Disclaimer ~ Don't own POTC, don't think I ever will. (What a depressing thought!!) ^_^

A/N No. . .I have to go back to school on Monday so updates will get less frequent. Oh well, tell me what you think of this chapter. And thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far!! ^_^

Chapter Nine ~ Rosie Runs.

"Ah, Roselyn, there you are, where on earth have you been, child?" Her aunt screeched. Rosie gasped, she had forgotten the time. She had spent the evening with Bill and Jack, watching the sunset.

"I'm sorry aunt. . ." She began.

"No matter, no matter." She said, waving her hands. "It's just you've kept Mr Winchester waiting."

Rosie spun round, her dress was frayed at the bottom, and slightly wet. The back of it was dirty from where she had sat leaning against the old fort wall. She definitely wasn't dressed for visitors.

"Mr Winchester lives about a mile away, dear, on that grand estate just west of the old fort." Her aunt said, with a smile.

Mr Winchester was a middle aged man, with a distinct air of arrogance about him. He looked at Rosie through the thin slits beneath his bushy eyebrows with a look of despair.

"Is this it? I expected something better from the niece of Miss Everton."

"She cleans up well." Rosie's aunt said quickly. "Roselyn, my pet, go upstairs and get changed, I'll send Milly up to help you."

Rosie left the room, but she did not go to her room. Slowly, she put her eye up the keyhole, and watched as her aunt served the tea.

"You see Mr Winchester, when I heard you were travelling back to England, I was most joyous." Her aunt began. "I mean, you have met my niece. It is not her fault you know, it is the company she keeps."

Mr Winchester nodded, but didn't reply.

"And so I was wondering if she could travel back to England with you. I mean her cousin would meet her of the boat, and that would be the end of it."

Rosie gasped. She closed her eyes and tried to picture England. But all she could see was the beautiful palms, the clear blue waves, and the old fort of the Caribbean. She took one last look at the door, before running down the hall, and out of the front door.

"Mother, I'm home." Bill cried, as he walked in the house.

There was no answer.

He ran to the living room in a panic, but stopped dead at the door. There was his mother, lying asleep on the couch. She hadn't slept properly for weeks, well since. . .

He gently stroked the hair out of her eyes, and sighed. "Told you we'd be okay." He muttered. She looked so peaceful, and content lying there on the couch. Her face was free of worry, the lines of concern had ceased, and her face was a picture of innocence.

He sat down beside her, and slept. And for the first time in months, his dreams did not contain his father, they did not hold any bad feelings of vengeance.

Rosie ran as fast as she could, she only stopped when she got to the Old Fort. She leaned against the old brick, panting for breath, and shivering in the night breeze coming from the sea. A fog had sprung up, and she could barely see two feet in front of her eyes. And there is that thick blanket of fog, she lay down on the ground, and fell asleep.

The next morning her aunt woke to find her niece missing. It was almost more then the old woman could handle. She alerted the navy officers at once, and a search began for little Rosie. Jack heard of his friend's disappearance, he left the house without a word to his father, and went to find Bill.

The two of them began their own little search.

"This is pointless, she's probably miles away by now, if I know Rosie." Bill muttered. They sat down on the bench facing outwards to the sea. They had been looking for quite a while now, and Bill was ready to give up.

The waves crashed against the rocks sending up a salty white spray. Rosie once said they looked like white horses charging in to battle. The horizon was fogged over, and the mist was still to be blown away, making looking even harder.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, when suddenly a thought struck Jack.

"Can't believe I've been so daft!" He cried. "Look I'll meet you back 'ere in an hour." And with that he ran off, disappearing into the fog.

He reached the old fort, and began walking carefully round the outside, narrowly avoiding walking right off the cliff. He saw a bundle lay on the sun filled grass, and skidded to it's side.

He lifted the hair from her face, to reveal the cold, unconscious figure of Rosie.

"Rosie?" He said, softly, shaking her. "Rosie!" He said, speaking louder. "Rosie!" He shouted. He gently tapped her face in an attempt to wake her up. Her cheek was freezing. He felt her arms, cold as ice, he rubbed them to warm her up.

Eventually her eyes flickered, and she stirred slightly.

"Rosie." He said, again, calmer this time.

She opened her eyes, and slowly pushed herself up off the cold, wet floor. She gasped to see Jack in front of here. "What have I done?" She asked.

"Been very stupid?" Jack suggested.

"Jack, I need your help."

He raised his eyebrows. "Anyone who's willin' to trade their comfy bed, for a night under the cold stars. . ."

She shook her head, and put her freezing, shaking hand on his mouth. "No, Jack, I really need your help. I need to get away from 'ere."

"You what?"

"My aunt wants to send me to England, to be a Lady. But I'm not going." She screeched.

"Thought you wanted to be a lady?" Jack said.

"No, I just wanna be me." She replied.

He leaned forward and stroked her cold cheek. The warmth spread from his hand, to her face. She stroked her head against his rough hand. "I'm Rosie, and I belong 'ere, savvy?"

Jack nodded. "Aye, you do."

"Then you'll help me?"

Jack seemed to think about it for a moment or two, then he nodded. "'Course a will, for a price."

"Name it."

"I can come with you."

She laughed, happily. "That's more then I ever hoped for."

"But right now, you 'ave to go 'ome. I'll think o' something." Jack promised.