OMg, you guys are amazing.  I got so much feed back of the last chapter.  For all of you who reviewed, here's an extra long chapter.  Please read through the entire thing before you decide to hate me.  ; )

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   Osprey Point . . . Kendra scowled at the seemingly empty landscape that went in every direction.  Who'd have thought it to be so big?  She trudged onward, wishing that she had some faster way to get to Swallows Rest than her own two feet.

   Dull thuds drifted into her ears and she paused, trying to identify the sound.  Hoof beats.  A horse, likely approaching from behind.  She turned and spotted the solitary horse and rider with ease.  She put a hand on her pistol and kept walking.  No need to be lax.  Can't forget that I'm still on a pirate inhabited island.  Have to keep my guard up.

   The horse and rider slowed to a walk when they reached her, the blond man looking to her curiously.

   "Are you lost?"

   Kendra only spared the man a quick glance.  "Only if the townspeople give faulty directions.  Swallows Rest is up ahead, is it not?"

   "It is."  He gained an amused tone.  "And what business do you have there?"

   She looked up again, this time far more agitated.  "What is it to you?  Are you a Morgan, too?"

   His grin broadened.  "I'm a family friend.  Alex Thompson.  Who might you be?"

   "Ken of the Dilettante," she grumbled.  Her boots were soft, supple and had served her well, but she'd never walked two miles straight in them.  Let alone on so little sleep and food.  "How much farther is it?"

   "A little more than two miles, I think."

   Her head shot up. "The house is four miles outside of town?"

   Alex nodded, barely holding back the amusement he felt looking at Kendra's shocked and disgusted expression.  "The Captain likes his privacy."

   "Well," Kendra glanced down the remainder of the road once more.  "Aren't I in a fix?"

   Giving what he took to be a very small pirate a cursory examination, Alex patted the empty space on his saddle.  "I could take you the rest of the way."

   Kendra hid her unease.  Sitting right in front of this unknown man was a risk, but one that sounded all the more tempting by the moment.  Especially considering how the road ahead of her simply did not seem to end.  "And no harm will come to me?"

   "I give you my word.  I was heading to the house myself.  I heard some news in town that I thought Captain Morgan might be interested in."  Not to mention Cat.  But at least this will give everyone something to worry about other than the Captain's failing health.

   Kendra walked a bit closer to the horse and stuck out a hand, "An accord.  No harm to either of us."

   "Agreed," Alex leaned over and shook her hand, surprised at the strong grip.

   "So," Kendra looked curiously at the stirrup and different components of the saddle. "How do I get on?"

   Alex chuckled. "Keep your firm grip and I can pull you up."

   She nodded, tightening her grip, glad of her small size as he lifted her off the ground and within reach of the saddle.  Kendra grabbed onto the front of the saddle and somehow managed to fumble her way through mounting a horse for the first time.

   Alex was dimly reminded of the last time he'd had a passenger sitting in front of him.  It had been Winn, fleeing after her grandfather's rather firm and unexpected declaration that she marry.  Ken was smaller, lighter, and seemingly much stronger than Winn; he smiled down at the pirate looking up at him.

   "Ready to go?"

   Kendra nodded.  "I only wish to know how to stay securely on the horse."

   Alex clicked his tongue and his horse started walking again.  He set his free hand on his thigh, the other holding the reins, scooting up a little closer to be more comfortable and decrease the risk of falling off.  "Don't worry yourself, at low speeds you only need to keep your balance."

   "And if we were to go faster?"  She did not much appreciate the odd jolt of the horse's gait, slight as the disturbances were.

   "I'll make sure you stay on."  His smile did little to comfort her, despite how kind it appeared.

   The two rode in silence, until the gathering clouds started to give an ominous look to the landscape and thunder sounded in the air, rain beginning to fall.  Alex glanced down at Kendra, noting that she was looking at nothing in particular, almost seeming to be in a stupor of some sort.

   "Are you ready to go faster, Ken?"

   She looked over her shoulder at him.  "Over a little rain?  Is it necessary to increase our speed?"

   "We've still got a mile to go."

   Kendra sighed.  "I suppose I could tolerate it."

   Alex nodded and wrapped his free arm around her waist, pulling her next to him and squeezing the horse's side, clicking his tongue more urgently now.  The horse snorted and shifted to a faster gait, a gallop.  Kendra was, to say the least, a bit unprepared for this.  The feeling of riding a walking horse unsettled her, but being jerked against this man and subjected to an entirely new 'jolt' below her . . . was definitely a shock.

   To remedy her unease, she put her trust in Alex's accord, letting herself ignore the warning signs flashing within her.  Particularly from the lack of anxiety she was feeling from the closeness of Alex's warm – and from what she could tell – quite strong body.   She felt herself slowly grow calmer.  Her surroundings were blurred from the speed the horse was traveling, Alex's larger frame blocked out much of the cold, refreshing rain, and she now realized that his close proximity to her was becoming strangely . . . pleasant.  Almost to the point where she could ignore the unease of the horse's gait and fall asleep . . . sleep was very tempting.

   Ignore it, she took a breath, hoping to keep herself awake.  Remember the things that have kept me alive.  One man's warm body is no reason to get worked up.  Besides, I have a job to do.  Keep an eye on Winn, Sparrow's pregnant wife.  I don't know who I can and can't trust.  Cursed Sparrow . . . having me come to this absurd island and have to keep an eye on everyone.  Really, there's only so much a person can do, pirate or not.

   Alex had noticed Kendra's frantic fluctuation between tensing and slackening her muscles, but as they were in full gallop, he might as well keep going.  He kept his concentration on keeping the two on the horse, and was relieved when he felt the smaller pirate slowly relax, loosening and making his job of balancing himself and his passenger much easier.  Pulling Kendra closer to improve his balance, he mindlessly noted just how scrawny she was.  Wonder what the boy is here for?  "Here it is," Kendra barely heard him above the storming weather.

   Nodding numbly, she was glad to see the large estate ahead of them, and even more grateful to see the covered area that he would likely go under.  Kendra nearly had the wind knocked out of her as her jerked the horse to a stop under the covered area, his arm jerking into her gut unexpectedly.  He released her and looked down at her.  He looks all right.

   Alex swung his leg over and hopped off the horse, flipping the reins over the horse's head, "Need a hand down?"

   Kendra looked over the situation and shook her head, gripping the front of the saddle firmly, swinging her leg over and sliding off, landing on unsteady legs.  Every muscle of her legs - muscles she didn't even know she had - ached.

   "You can wait until I've stabled Lucifer or head in yourself."

   Lucifer?  Kendra looked over the horse – it was the pale tan of many of the Caribbean's sandy beaches, and from what she could tell, had a decent temperament.  But what do I know of horses?  She spared a glance for the horse's owner and then nodded. "I'll head in."  Biting her lip as walking took a bit more effort than she preferred, she could have sworn she heard Alex laughing at her.  Never going to ride one of those horses again.  Definitely not a preferable thing.  Now, to get into this estate and finally get this errand started.  Even if Sparrow's wife isn't here, I can use the time to look over the territory and get to know the help.

   The door had a porch over it and Kendra was glad for it.  Knocking quickly, she then shook off her coat and hoped it would dry soon, along with the rest of her.  Her stomach growled mercilessly and she did her best to ignore it.  The door opened slowly to an older manservant.

   "What brings you here, young sir?"

   Mistaken as a boy once again . . . might as well continue the façade.  "I've been sent here by Captain Sparrow.  I'm to see Captain Morgan as soon as possible.  I have a pass, but . . . could I please step inside?  It is a mite cold out here."

   The servant nodded and stepped to the side as if used to strange people showing up at unexpected times.  Kendra wondered what that had to say about this family, but didn't linger on the thought.  The man closed the door and waited for Kendra to present her pass.

   Kendra shook out her coat once more, then pulled out the thankfully dry note, handing it to the servant.  "I'll be expecting that back, of course."

   The servant scanned the two pages of the note quickly and lifted his gaze to her once more.  "Of course," he handed back the note and held out an arm.

   She looked at him in confusion. "What?"

   "I know it might not seem like it lad, but we do try to stick to some of the niceties around here.  It's customary for a coat to be removed when entering a household . . . not to mention you're near to soaking wet, and I can get that dried for you."  He winked.

   "Oh, yes, of course."  Kendra cursed her slip up, then changed her mind.  She'd had propriety pounded into her head years earlier, but had not thought of it for quite some time.  However, this man seemed rather laid back so she felt a little better about forgetting.  And what do cabin boys know about proper manners?  She put the note gently into her mouth, struggled to get her coat off for a moment and then carefully felt for her concealed knives as she handed the servant it over.  Wouldn't want him hurting himself on my knives . . . would be a shame after he's bein' so nice.

   The servant nodded and walked off into another room, while Kendra took the note out of her mouth and slipped it into her thankfully dry sleeve.  Given this time all by herself, she put her hands behind her back and examined her surroundings.

   The walls of the entryway were paneled in dark wood while the floor was some sort of light colored stone that had rugs haphazardly strewn here and there.  There were several tables, some supporting vases of flowers, some holding statues.  The one nearest her was covered in a jumble of belongings; pocket knives, dolls, stones, string, wooden carvings, and more.  Well, this is obviously a house that's lived in.

   The walls themselves interested her greatly.  The one to her right held an assortment of flags, banners, and weaponry.  Tokens of successful raids, no doubt.  She looked to her left and found a galaxy of portraits.  It started with an older man and woman, moving onto couples – three men with a strong family resemblance and their spouses, and a man she easily recognized.  Jack.  She examined the picture of Jack and the woman who was undoubtedly his wife.  Well, the woman is certainly prettier than I.  Not a beauty like Janette . . . or most any noblewoman, but she's nothing like me.  At least in looks.  Looks to be near me size . . . taller and more . . . womanly shaped.  I always figured Sparrow to stay free roaming all his life, but I can understand settlin' down with a woman . . . especially one with such nice connections.  He does seem fond of her, though, giving her a nickname.  But then again . . . he gave me a nickname . . . and I was nothin' but trouble for him.  Either way . . . I think I could in the least tolerate lookin' after her until Sparrow gets back.  

   After spending so much time examining the woman she was here to protect, Kendra gave a cursory examination of each of the smaller portraits, each with a name underneath them, all of children.  There were sixteen.

   So this is the home of the Captain Morgan? she thought as she finished her examination of the room.  Never thought I'd be standing here . . . never.  Although I must admit that it's not quite what I expected.  With nothing left to do, Kendra leaned against a wall and started planning just what she was going to do next.

   Before too long the servant returned and she was about to follow him upstairs, when a child came into the room.  Well, more like a blossoming young woman.

   Unconsciously, Kendra felt a surge of jealousy.  She's already taller than me and looks more like a woman than I'll ever be . . .  But she put on a smile, stifling the pointless emotion, and doffing her hat, a bit of rain water spilling out with the action.  "Hello, miss."

   The girl who'd come down the stairs was Bella.  She looked Kendra over curiously, not sure what to make of the dripping boy dressed in oversized clothing and bearing a sword, pistol and likely a plethora of other weapons.  She knew exactly what could be hidden on a small body, mainly because she knew what she could hide on herself.  Like her aunt Winn, the girl was rarely caught without at least one dagger.  "Hello," she nodded.  "Who are you?"

   "Ken, miss," she flashed a grin and put her hat back on, nodding and starting to turn, before pausing momentarily.  "And what is your name, may I ask?"

   "Bella Morgan," she replied, doing her best not to start spewing forth questions about this miniature pirate's reason for being there.  She knew that this cabin boy had to have something to do with her aunt and uncle, and she wanted to know what.  And while she normally wasn't shy around girls or boys her own age, she was strangely hesitant to question this stranger.

   "Nice to make your acquaintance, Miss Morgan, but if ye'll excuse me, I have some business to be about."  Kendra had not failed to see the girl's overwhelming curiosity.  "We can talk further if ye'd like.  I doubt that I'll be leavin' too soon."

   Bella nodded and then Kendra returned her attention to the servant who was waiting at the top of the first flight of stairs.  She hurried after him, then kept his slower pace as he continued further up.

   "Sorry to keep you waiting," she softly added, keeping her gaze on the nearing second floor.

   "That's perfectly alright.  I'm afraid that the Captain is under strict orders to rest."  It wasn't the man who answered, but a woman that Kendra recognized from one of the portraits downstairs.  The woman held out a hand for Kendra to shake.  "I'm Catherine Morgan, Cat to most.  I hear that Jack sent you?"

   "Yes, mum."

   "Please, just Cat.  We don't stand on ceremony much here at Swallows Rest, except for when addressing the Captain."  The woman started walking, clearly taking Kendra someplace, although she couldn't imagine where.

   "Which captain is that?  It seems as if your family boasts more than its fair share."  Kendra did her best to absorb her surroundings, but found them almost too large to comprehend.  A fort's one thing . . . but this house.  Amazing . . .

   "That's true, but in this family, only my husband's grandfather is addressed as 'the Captain.'  Ah, here we go."  Cat opened the door to a smallish but very clean and very comfortable room.  "I assume you will be staying with us for some time?"

   "I believe that's what Sparrow had in mind."

   "Alright then, this is your room.  Did you leave your belongings downstairs?"

   "No, I left them at an inn down by the docks.  I didn't want to impose –"

   "Nonsense.  We've more than enough room.  I'll send one of the boys for your belongings as soon as this rain lets up a bit."  Cat looked her small companion up and down.  "Is your business so urgent that you must see Captain Morgan immediately?  As much as I'd like to know what news of Jack and Winn you might have, I don't dare question you before the Captain gets the opportunity . . . and I prefer he rest while he can."

   Kendra shook her head, "Nay, but um…" as her stomach growled again she smiled.  "If I could have a bite to eat, it would be greatly appreciated."

   "Of course.  I've enough of my own children to have guessed that."  Cat smiled and led her back downstairs, where a knocking was heard on the door.  Not the front one, but one leading in from what she thought were the gardens.

   Kendra waited in the back doorway while Cat opened the door opened for Alex, who was immediately ushered in and his coat taken.  "Alex, it's good to see you.  I –"  Somewhere in the back of the house, someone started crying.  "Oh goodness."  She smiled apologetically.  "Richard and Sarah dropped the children off for a fortnight so they could have some time to themselves, and with my luck, Susan has moved into a stage where she's constantly irritable and short-tempered."

   "Ah, making up for Freddy."

   "Say that to her once she gets back, I'm sure she'll appreciate it."  Cat nodded to Alex and Kendra.  "If you'll both excuse me?"  She scurried off, leaving the two alone in a somewhat awkward silence.

   "Thanks for the ride," she nodded to Alex, who smiled in reply.

   "It was my pleasure. Finish your business already?"

   She narrowed her eyes. "Not just yet."

   For a short time, an uncomfortable silence filled the room.  The same servant who'd let her in finally came over to Kendra and gestured towards another room.  This house was simply too convoluted for her to keep track of what was where.

   "The only Mrs. Morgan in residence tells me you can use some food.  It's this way to the kitchens and dining room.  Please follow me."

   Kendra nodded, "Thank you."  She noted that Alex was following her and glanced over her shoulder.  "Hungry yourself?  Or do you just find yourself with nothing better to do than follow me?"

   Something about the lad's mannerisms quite amused Alex.  He was sure the boy was hiding something, and he fully intended to find out what it was.  "I'm not one to turn down a meal."

   She sighed and continued on.  I won't get a bit of rest in this place . . . I can tell already.  Not unless I hide myself in some unknown room in the dead of night and lock the door.

   They finally reached the dining room and the servant had the two sit across from each other at one of the enormous table.  Well, it wasn't all that wide, but it was extraordinarily long.  "What would you like?" he asked.

   "Anything you can scrounge up, if you would.  I'm starving," Kendra grinned, then decided to add, "I eat like a growing lad, so don't hesitate to pile it on."

   He nodded, then looked to Alex.

   "Whatever you have lying around, Dom.  I wouldn't want to trouble you."

   With that, it was just down to Kendra and Alex again.  She slumped over on the table and rested her chin on her folded arms, her eyes drooping a bit.

   "Something the matter, Ken?"

   There's no reason even to bother looking over.  Too tired to anyway.  "Haven't slept in a while is all.  Nor have I eaten.  Think once I deliver my initial message I'll sleep for a bit. Even if I have to do so in a corner of some room."  The thought of climbing those stairs and finding her way to her room was daunting.

   "What message is this?"

   Her tone began to get drowsy.  "Just taking care of," a yawn made her pause, "some business for Sparrow.  Gonna be glad to have this errand over and him back in my debt again."

   How does he know Jack?  And why would a boy his age call him 'Sparrow'?  "This Sparrow . . . you do mean Jack Sparrow?"

   "Aye, one in the irritating same."  Her eyes were getting heavier and the table all the more cozy.

   He simply nodded in reply, watching the nearly-asleep figure across from him carefully.  Spitfire would never allow her husband to send out a small cabin boy all by himself.  Especially one as foolhardy – and underfed – as Ken.  But . . . the lad could be more resourceful than he seems.  Can't expect the impossible out of a tired, hungry, soaking wet lad.  I'll let him doze until the food comes.  And it is odd for a cabin boy not to call a captain by their title . . . even if they're not from the same ship.  The boy did say his ship is the Dilettante.  Maybe Ken just isn't fond of Freddy's husband.  Or Ken isn't a cabin boy at all.  Doubtful, but a possibility.

   Kendra felt the warm hands of sleep willing her consciousness to nothing . . . and barely had the will to resist.  She was just so tired . . .  I'm in a strange place though!  I . . . I can't fall asleep like this.  Not only am I making a sorry name for myself, but I'm vulnerable when I'm asleep.  Captain Morgan may well not take kindly to my intrusion and kill me in my sleep or something.  She doubted it with how welcoming everyone had been so far, but it was still possible.  With how tired I am now, I'm not quite sure how heavily I'd slumber.  With my type of luck around Sparrow, I'd be out like a rock.

   Alex had taken to examining the room and was glad to see a few servants come out with trays of steaming food.  Time to wake up the boy.  He looked down at Kendra and couldn't help but smile.  Sleep had almost taken over, and a soft innocence had conquered the harsh and sarcastic expressions previous.  I'm almost tempted to let the boy sleep.  But he did seem very hungry.

   "Ken."  There was no response.  "Ken," he said louder.  Still she didn't respond, so he reached out to touch her shoulder, but just before he reached it, the pirate jerked back and stumbled to her weary feet, drawing heavy breaths.  Alex had pulled his hand back and was glad to see that he had only startled her.

   "What's . . . what . . . ?"  Kendra's eyes were slightly out of focus and she found it difficult to concentrate.  Until the smell of food reached her.  Hot food.

   "You'd almost fallen asleep.  I was trying to wake you up."

   "Oh . . ." she gave a weak smile.  "Sorry, just a bit jumpy I suppose."  Quickly pulling her seat back to its previous position, she plopped down and eagerly waited for the food.

   As soon as the trays were set down, and the lids taken off, Kendra slid one that was particularly full over to her, and began to dig in, not bothering with utensils.  She ate with a limited amount of grace, keeping her mess to a minimum.  Her stomach was demanding food so violently that she found it difficult to even maintain that kind of propriety.

   Alex watched her with guarded eyes.  Seems like the boy is practically starving.  Though in many occasions boys go through a period of time where they eat like no tomorrow.  Probably something like that.  Neither Captain Sparrow nor Winn would allow one of their crew to starve.  It was a good explanation, but Alex still got the feeling there was more to this boy than met the eye.

Pain.  Pain, and heat, and disorientation.  His entire body ached, his back felt as if he'd been staked under the Caribbean sun for days, and his mind felt as if he'd overindulged on rum.  Which he was relatively certain he hadn't.

   Something was touching his back, and an agonized moan was coming from somewhere.  It almost sounded like the Pearl when she was being buffeted by a particularly nasty storm.  But he wasn't on his ship.  Why wasn't he on his ship?

   The battle.  Gandolfi – he captured me and lured Winnie out.  And she was pregnant, and he poisoned her, and she was in so much pain.  Again he heard the moan.  "Winnie?  What's –"  He gasped as pain flared, and realized he'd been the one moaning.  Once he realized that, he remembered what had happened.  The sentencing.  Winn being called up to give testimony.  He'd ridiculed Hallington and the magistrate.  She'd collapsed and he'd held her hand, praying that she wasn't having a miscarriage.  Hallington had ordered that he be whipped.

   The sun had been hot, but nowhere near as hot as the paths of fire that had traced their way down his back.  Jack didn't remember the punishment coming to an end, he didn't remember the trip to wherever it was that he was now.  He grimaced as the pain flashed across his back again.  It felt like someone was digging into his back.  He tried to struggle against the pain, but a hand on the back of his neck prevented any real movement.

   "Relax, Sparrow.  There's still shreds of cloth in some of the wounds.  Unless you want to die of an infection, I suggest you let the physician do his work.  You've got enough on your hands with just the lashing and a fever."

   Jack knew that voice.  "Commodore –"

   "Please, keep your mouth shut this once."

   Jack grinned, then slipped back into unconsciousness.  He had no idea what was going on, he was completely defenseless, and under the Commodore's care.  Seemed like a good enough time to escape for a bit.

There was a knock on the door – Winn ignored it.  The sun was just coming up, turning the ocean to blood.  So much blood.  It seemed as if all her recent memories were covered in it.  Jack.  She needed her husband.  But she'd killed him.

   "Winn?"  Elizabeth didn't receive an answer, but she went into the room anyway, Grace a step behind her.  Perhaps her friend was actually getting some sleep.  She hoped Winn was asleep, because then she could delay giving her the bad news.

   No such luck.  When she entered the room, she found Winn sitting on the floor by the window, Pige by her side.  There was paper all over the floor, the candles had been burned down to stubs, and the blankets had been pulled from the bed.  "Winn?"

   Winn was petting her dog absently.  Her eyes were fixed beyond the horizon, watching something that no one else could see.  "I wake up in the morning, and I open my eyes to an empty bed.  And every single morning, I wonder why Jack got up so early, and then I wonder why my bed feels as if it's planted so solidly on something, and then I remember that he's . . . he's locked in a cell waiting to die.  But I can't believe that, because that would mean that I gave up on him.  That I abandoned him, not it being the other way around.  So every morning I trick myself into believing that Jack has gone up onto the deck early and left me to sleep in peace.  But this morning I couldn't do that.  I never went to sleep.  All I could think about is the pain I've caused.  I should never have let Jack marry me.  I should have run away – I could have done it.  I should have stayed in England.  But I stayed with him because I loved him and that's what killed him."

   Grace and Elizabeth looked at each other.  "Elizabeth, go downstairs and get Marcus and Ry."  Elizabeth nodded, and left the room after one worried glance at Winn.

   Grace waited until she could no longer hear Elizabeth, then slowly approached Winn.  "We need to get you back into bed, Freddy.  You're going to catch a chill sitting here on the floor."

   Winn didn't look away from the ocean.  "It doesn't matter – I'll be cold anyway.  I'm always cold."  The water was slowly losing its red hue, taking on the turquoise color that people were accustomed to seeing.  Life returning to normal after bloodshed.  Did life return to normal after one had been soaked in blood?  That what Jack hates the most about being on land . . . not being able to look out in any direction and see nothing but water.  He must hate that cell they have him in.

   "Freddy, I would feel better if you'd get back into bed."

   Winn sighed.  No use everyone feeling miserable.  "Alright."  Slowly she got to her feet, using Grace as a support to help her up.  Then she slowly hobbled back over to the bed, still leaning on her sister-in-law.  She was climbing into bed as the rest of her family came into the room.

   Winn paused and looked at them, setting aside her distraction for the moment.  It was never a good thing when relatives descended en mass.  She got the feeling that something was about to happen . . . something they knew she wasn't going to like.  "Grace?  What's going on?"  Grace merely looked to her husband, so Winn switched her gaze to Marcus.  "Marcus, what's wrong?"  She tried to struggle out of the bed, but Grace held her back.  Not Jack.  Not Jack.  Please . . .

   Marcus came over and took his sister's hand.  She was shaking her head, denying what he had to say before he could even say it.  "Freddy, I just got from the fort –"

   She pulled her hand free.  "No.  I don't want to hear it.  You're wrong.  Jack's strong, he'll make it.  He'll pull through.  I don't care what anyone else has to say – he promised he wouldn't leave me."

   "Freddy."  Marcus looked into his sister's eyes, watched as she desperately tried to build walls against what he was going to say.  "I'm sorry."  She shook her head as her hand tightened on his enough to hurt.  "Jack's gone.  He d–"

   "NO!"  She pulled away, pushing Grace's hands off her shoulders.  "He's not dead, he's not."  She climbed out of bed, Pige instantly at her side.  Winn laid a hand on the dog's shoulder without realizing what she was doing.  "He just managed to get away.  Jack's smart . . . he could do that."

   Marcus and Ry looked at the women and motioned for them to leave.  This was a family crisis – something that needed to be dealt with between brothers and sister.  At the rate things were going, Winn was going to give into her tempter fully at any moment, and that wasn't something that should be inflicted on outsiders.  There would time for Grace and Elizabeth to comfort Winn later – right now the two brothers needed to keep her from hurting herself or anyone else.  She might very well try to run off after Hallington.

   "Winn – you know better than that.  You know there was no way that he was in any condition to escape." 

   Winn shook her head.  "But I need him."  She backed away as her brothers tried to come closer to her.  Her anger blossomed – how could they give up so easily?  There had to be another explanation.  She'd know if Jack was dead.  Somehow she'd know.  "Stay away from me.  Pige – guard."  The dog looked at her as if confused, but did as she was told.  Both Ry and Marcus stopped as the dog started growling as she placed herself firmly between them and Winn.

   "Winifred.  You've moved past anger and now you're overreacting."

   "You're under-reacting!  How can you just so easily accept that Jack is dead?  Why is that the only explanation?  Why can't someone have helped him escape?  Why can't Hallington have hidden him away somewhere until he can hang him?  Why is death the only acceptable reason for him being missing?"

   "Winn – Norrington was the one who found his body."

   Winn felt a sheet of ice form around her body.  Her words from last night came back to her.  "Jack's a good man . . . but so are you."  Norrington wouldn't lie about something like that.  He has no reason to.  "When?"

   "Last night, after he left here."

   "We killed him, you and I, or we will kill him."

   "Winn . . ."

   "No.  Don't say anything."  Gandolfi . . . Hallington . . . this is their fault.  She rested her hands on her expanding belly, feeling her child kicking under her hands.  "I want to see Norrington.  Now."

   Marcus looked at Ry, not quite believing that things were turning out to be this easy.  "Alright . . . we'll send a note to him –"

   Why couldn't they see what she wanted?  Why must they treat her as a vulnerable widow?  If she had been the wife of a pirate yesterday, then today she was a pirate wench looking for revenge.  "No.  No notes, no waiting, no more apologies.  I want to talk to Norrington face to face.  I want to look into his eyes when tells me that Jack . . . that my husband is dead.  I want to know when and how he plans to go after Gandolfi.  I want to see the man pay for what he's done."  She went over to her wardrobe and pulled out a dress.

   "Winn . . . you're in no condition to be traipsing all over Port Royal."  Ry held back the urge to squirm under the glare that Winn shot at him.  He ruefully remembered all the times his men had teased him about giving way to his baby sister, but none of them had ever seen Winn take on an opponent twice her size and come out undaunted.  "Do you remember what happened yesterday?"  Bad choice of words; Winn picked up a hair brush from the table next to her wardrobe and threw it with deadly accuracy at his head.  For a woman still weak from grief and a harrowing ordeal, she still had enough strength to force Ry to duck the hairbrush.

   When he looked back to his sister, he saw that her eyes had turned to ice.  "Yes.  I noticed what happened yesterday.  In a moment of weakness I abandoned my husband to die alone."

   "But the baby –"

   "The baby is Jack's, the only part of him that I have left.  I will do nothing to endanger it."  Winn stopped her activities and looked at her brothers.  "I need to do this.  I need to do this just to assure myself that I'm still alive . . . that I didn't die with Jack.  At the moment, anger is all I can feel, so I'm hanging on to it.  Don't take that from me, let me do this."  The brothers looked at each other.  If Winn were this determined, it would take more energy than they wanted to expend to keep her in the house.  Marcus shrugged; Ry nodded.  "Thank you."

Winn was having a hard time containing her impatience.  Norrington hadn't been at the fort, and Hallington had come out to offer his apologies from the day before.  She'd had to keep her eyes locked on her lap as he'd patronizingly droned on and on.  Only her lack of a weapon had kept her from killing the man there and then; only the fact that she was pregnant kept her from bodily attacking the man.  He was soft, he wouldn't have stood a chance . . . but she couldn't risk hurting Jack's child.

   "Freddy.  You're bleeding."  She was?  Ry's concerned voice broke through the haze taking over her mind. 

   Winn looked down at her hand – she'd been holding the trinket Jack had sent her so tightly that the edges of the round piece of metal had pierced her skin.  She watched as the blood welled up out of her palm.  Thirty-five lashes.  "I'm going to kill him, Ry.  Hallington.  Jack didn't deserve that punishment and we all know it."  Her brother didn't answer her.  Instead Ry folded her skirt back and tore a bit of cloth off one of her petticoats.  He then wrapped the fabric around her hand, cutting off the flow of blood.  "I'm serious, Ry."

   "I know you are."

   The door of the carriage opened and Marcus climbed in.  "Norrington wasn't there.  He's at home, and he's asked not to be disturbed unless it's an emergency."

   "Marcus, if you're asking me whether or not I want to go back home, the answer is no.  I need to talk to Norrington.  I need to make sure that someone is going to make Gandolfi pay for what he's done."

   Marcus nodded and tapped on the roof of the carriage.

   It took another five minutes to travel across the town to Norrington's home.  Once they were there, Winn refrained from jumping out of the carriage as soon as it came to a stop, instead waiting for her brothers to help her down.  Then she walked up to the front door of the house, her brothers flanking her, and rapped on it.  No one replied.  Winn waited another few minutes before knocking again . . . still nothing.  "This is ridiculous."  She tried the latch – the door was unlocked.

   "Winn!" Marcus hissed as Winn walked into the Commodore's house uninvited.  She ignored him, and Marcus looked to his brother for support. 

   Ry simply shrugged.  "She's your sister too."

   "Don't you find it odd that she's a foot shorter than either of us, but neither of us is willing to reach out and stop her?"

   "No.  She's meaner than either of us."

   Marcus was going to reply when a cry from the inside of the house interrupted him.  The brothers looked at each other, then followed their sister into Norrington's home.

Winn was frozen in shock on the threshold of Norrington's sitting room.  There was the Commodore in a chair – looking extremely disheveled – and there was her husband on a divan.  What's going on?  I don't understand.

   "Mistress Sparrow."  Winn looked at the Commodore in shock.

   "I don't understand."  She heard her brothers come up behind her.

   "Captain Morgan."  Both men nodded.  "Please, Mistress Sparrow, come in and have a seat." 

   Winn looked at the man, then moved into the room, quickly walking over to where her husband lay.  She knelt on the floor next to him, brushing some hair out of his face and stroking his forehead.  It was hot.  There was a basin of water and a cloth nearby – she wet the cloth, and rubbed it over his face.  She looked at his back, and winced at the number of bandages covering him.  Blood was soaking in through in one or two places.  Jack.

   The men stood at the doorway still, watching Winn as she started to care for her husband.  When tears started to roll down her face, they turned away.  "Captain Marcus, we're going to have a talk later about entering a man's house uninvited and unannounced."

   "It's not my fault, sir.  It was Freddy's idea."

   "Then we shall have a talk about the importance of sharing significant information with your superiors."  Marcus cringed.

   Winn disrupted their talk.  "Commodore?  How long has he been unconscious?"

   "Since shortly after dawn, madam."  Norrington walked back into the sitting room, his bearing the same as it would have been had he been in full dress uniform.  "He's been fighting he fever since last night."

   "And . . . and his back?"

   "I had a very discreet physician here most of the night cleaning the wounds."  Winn nodded, knowing he meant that the man had been picking sheds of fabric out of her husband's back.  "He asked for you."

   It was too much.  Winn wiped tears from her face as she played with Jack's hair.  "I'm so sorry, Jack.  So sorry I got you into this."

   "Ah . . . it's only to be expected, love."  Winn's eyes opened and stared straight into the open eyes of her husband.  "You're a woman, and women are trouble."

   His voice was so rough.  She could tell that at some point the day before, he'd been crying out in pain.  "If you want to talk about trouble, Jack Sparrow, then let's talk about you.  Leaving me to worry about you the way I did."  Winn's voice, despite her brave words, was trembling.  Jack sighed, and reached blindly for her hand.  "Don't cry, Winnie."

   "I'm not crying, you despicable man, I'm angry.  I thought you were dead."  Marcus and Ry pulled Norrington from the room.  "If I wasn't afraid of killing you myself, I'd . . . I'd . . . I'd kill you."

   "Not your best argument, love."  Jack managed to get a hold of Winn's hand, and he used it to pull her down to him, brushing a kiss over her cheek.

   She rested her head against the side of the sofa, making Jack bend his head down a little to keep eye contact.  "You're more trouble than you're worth, Sparrow."

   "That's why you're here, right Winnie?"

   She sighed and squeezed his hand.  "Maybe I like trouble."  She looked into his eyes again, and saw how tired he was.  She smiled sweetly.  "You should get some sleep."

   Jack knew she was right.  "Don't leave."

   "I'm not going anywhere.  You're going to have me on your tail until I'm too fat to walk anymore."

   Jack grinned, then went back to sleep, his wife sitting contentedly at his side.

****************************************************

Author's Thanks: well, thank you so much to you all.  I did get to individual replies, but they're going to be short since there's so many.

jackfan2 – yay!  You're back!  I'm sorry to hear that life is ganging up on you too, but I really do appreciate anything you take the time to write – so insightful you are.

Erica Dawn – thank you for catching that mistake, and I'm really glad that you didn't wake anyone up.  ; )

Siremaik – well . . . yes and no.  I need to keep the happy couple apart for just a bit longer.

VagrantCandy – was this quick enough for you?

bobo3 – well, still haven't decided how Hallington is going to get it in the end, but tell Kendra to be on standby.

jigglykat – ok, it's not nice to let the author know you're on to her.  ; )  We all know I'd never really kill Jack.

BeBe – nope, had a minor change of plan – decided I couldn't pull off a rigged hanging.  Which is how we got this . . . liked the change a bit more anyway.  I couldn't stand more waiting.

Dawnie-7 – I have many twists up my sleeves, and I've a lot of sleeve, so think about that for a moment.  : )

Beak – I liked that chapter a lot too – it was really fun to write and imagine all the abuse I was going to reap for it.  ; )  I enjoy upsetting my readers.  It's fun.  BTW – I did notice that you're a new reviewer, and so therefore you can rock Sam, the raccoon that sits on top of my computer monitor.

Lila Elensar – you're right . . . he can't.  I'd never do that to him or to all of you. 

lilitaliandragonok, I'm serious about people needing to stop reading my mind.  *sigh* I try to psych you all out, and then there's people like you who've been reading long enough to expect that I'm not actually going in the direction I'm implying that I'm going to go in. 

Circe-Asteria – glad to hear from you, wish more people would believe me when I tend to say people are dead, but very glad to hear from you.  As a new reviewer, I think you can rock . . . the 'Get Fuzzy' comic on my desk.

Berne – wow.  I don't have the patience to read this for two hours.  ; )  I'm really glad you took the time to review – reviews are really encouraging and they help motivate me to write (mainly because I feel guilty for not updating faster).  New reviewer!  You can rock the baseball cap I got in Hoopa, Calif.

moorandaI'm glad to hear that this story has picked up enough to keep you interested, and I'm really glad to hear from you again.  Really, I notice all my reviewers, and I notice if they don't review, and I wonder if I've made them hate me (or my story), but now I know that you don't hate me and that you're reading, and I am happy.

CaptainJackSparrowsGirl – Jack's not dead, I couldn't do that.  : )

Eledhwen – am I really so transparent that you all can see where I'm going with something?  Yes, Norrington is a good guy and I like him.

BlueTrinity – I'm sorry.  I really don't try to make people cry.  (Well, I do try to upset them . . .)  I know, I'm awful.

NightSkyFlight – didn't you review the last chapter?  *is puzzled*  I'm glad that you took the time to review though, and I understand if you often just don't have the time to do so.  You can rock my 'Little Thing Two' doll that I got in a box of Rice Crispies.

TaraRose – how did you all know that Norrington helped Jack?  I don't understand.  *wails*

KamikazeCreamPuff – I'm glad to hear you wouldn't hesitate to tell me if I started slacking off or something.  It's good to know that I have people who will keep me on the straight and narrow.

Belle – I've started to like him too.  The deleted scenes really helped that along.  And speaking of deleted scenes, you can rock the deleted scenes on my copy of PotC.

WakingDream – I think you're talking to my double a lot.  You forgot the 'h,' luv.  : )  Glad you were excited to see the next chapter though.

pendragginikwow.  Thanks for the complements.  It's nice to know that I've written well-rounded characters.  Have you reviewed before?  I seem to remember your name, but perhaps I've just seen it elsewhere.  You can rock my LotR soundtrack.

SuzzieQue – thanks for the rum.  ; )

KawaiiRyu – ugh.  Sorry about all the finals and such – I didn't know people were still doing that – but I'm indeed very happy that you came and read my fic first thing.  : )  Hallington will eventually be taken down a few notches.  I'm really relived that I managed to write Norrington well.

GoldenRose3 – sorry 'now' turned out to be several days.  ; )  Wow, I made you gasp?  That's pretty cool.

pirate-miss – yes, I have arms up my sleeves.  ; P  I'm not trying to write a tear-jerker . . . something to mess with your head, yes.  But tears?  I don't like to cry.

RadioActiveSocks – are you kidding?  I'm one of those people who notices every single one of my reviewers.  I really do draw a lot of my encouragement and ideas of what facets of my characters need to be expounded on from people who give feedback – like your comment that Winn needed to toughen up some.  I lost her a bit in the pregnancy, but I'll do what I can.  I hope this chapter was a good start.  BTW – as a new reviewer, you can rock the pirate socks that I'm wearing.  (They have a neat charm on them.  : P)

georgie b – since you're the second person to point out that Winn might be a little 'limp' I really am doing my best to give her back some of her spirit.  She got lost in the pregnancy and the near miscarriage, and Jack being caught . . . . *sigh*  Was she better this chapter?  I hope so.  I was really glad to hear from you, and as a new reviewer, you can rock my pirate wristband.

*Whew*  Finally done.  You guys gave me way more reviews than I feel I deserve . . . but I'll take them,  ; )  Gotta go.  Tell me what you think of this chapter.