Disclaimer:  The creators are hunting me down with sticks to beat me for what I keep doing to their people . . .not that they were all that much nicer . . .

AN:  I'm sorry again about the delay in updating.  I thought that I could get a lot done this weekend, homework wise, healing wise, writing wise . . .yeah . . .God's up to his old tricks again.  Maybe he doesn't get that people don't normally hold conversations in their cars with beings who aren't there or stand out in rainstorms and scream at a sky that couldn't care less.  Maybe he thinks it's amusing.  I told you guys before that I go to the Center for half the day.  My entire class there is sixty-seven students . . .or it was.  I think God has a quota for us.  I think something bad happened to one of us freshman year, but I was too new to really be part of the chain of news.  Sophomore year a Center alumnus died in the Twin Towers.  Center alumni come back every year and talk to us, and they're just as close as the rest of us.  Last year he must have missed, or maybe he counts what he just did as last years since it started during the summer.  Our class is small, and it's close, and we care for each other, even if we're not really close friends.  Two weeks before school started again one of my classmates was driving home alone after midnight and she fell asleep at the wheel and crossed the median and two different vehicles that were much bigger than her car hit her.  She was hanging in there, even after cranial surgery to relieve pressure in the brain, and we thought she might have had a chance.  Don't trust to hope.  It abandoned my life two months ago.  I can't even really mourn correctly because I wasn't one of her really close friends and I see them managing to cope, or at least looking like they're coping, and I feel like I have to cope perfectly too and it's hard.  We can't even be angry at anyone because it was a stupid mistake that could have happened to anyone.  She was only seventeen, and we were all looking forward to our graduation, and it isn't god-cursed fair.  I don't know what I'm going to do if we lose another one, especially if it's one of my seven really close friends from the Center.  Sorry to rant.  Getting back to writing now.  I might decide to give this story to someone else to write if things get too much worse here, so if anyone is really keen on having it, just pipe up.  I'm posting a LotR fic, too, that I'm not sure at all about, so if anyone wants to look at that, or take it, drop me a line.  Yeah.  Writing now.  Writing is better than crying and screaming at the sky.  I can do those things later.

To Love and Protect

Part 3

"Jack!"  Ana-Maria screamed even as she dove over the side of the boat, risking only a quick glance back to ascertain that she hadn't capsized it in her head-long rush before turning her full attention toward the water.

Pieces of the Pearl lay in burning chunks all around her, while pieces of wood that weren't in flamte bobbed lazily on the water.  Barrels and pieces of sail completed the surreal picture.

Surreal.  She had seen other ships die and never thought it surreal . . .fiercely beautiful, in a way, and also vaguely sorrowful, but never surreal.

None of them had been the Pearl, though.  None of them had been her home for twelve years, her lover's home, at least in spirit, for over twenty-two.

The female pirate scanned the water, hoping against hope to see Jack swimming towards her, grinning his trademark grin, or, given the circumstances, vowing to see that whoever was the captain of the British ship found themselves without a helm.

No such sight greeted her eyes.

Breathing as deeply as she could, she dove beneath the waves, opening her eyes despite the sting of salt, cursing silently as the drag of her sword and pistol made in more difficult to swim.

She thought that she spotted him even as her lungs began to protest against the strain of being underwater.  Kicking hard, she broke the surface and dove again just as quickly, heedless to the sounds that were echoing on the surface.

Swimming straight down, she ignored the pressure that pushed upwards at her, intent on reaching the limp form below her.  The water around him was red with blood, a comfort in that it meant his heart still beat, a danger in that it would draw sharks and other predators.

Stretching down, she wrapped her fingers around Jack's forearm and twisted upward, drawing his body into a bear hug as she turned them both towards the surface.

Positioning her lips over his even as she kicked towards the surface, she exhaled slightly, sharing what air she had left in her lungs, before clamping a hand over his mouth and nose.

Jack had started the air sharing as a game.  It had been a rare stretch of tranquility, the Pearl riding at anchor, most of the crew either drunk out of their minds or sleeping.  She could see him in front of her eyes, bare-chested and grinning as he played, occasionally climbing back onto the Pearl just so he could have the joy of diving off.  She had at first been content to watch him unwind, to share from the sidelines his joy, his love of the sea, but once he invited her to join him, it was nearly impossible to refuse.

Unlike most people, even most sailors and pirates, Jack could not only swim, he could swim just as long and just as well as he could walk . . .according to some people, given how he walked, better and more naturally than he could walk.  Even so, he had almost drowned both of them the first time he dragged her underwater and kissed her.  It hadn't taken very long to correct the problems, though, not very long at all . . .

His play might just have helped to save his life.

Ana-Maria broke the surface, gasping for air even as she attempted to find a position that kept both their heads above the water.

No longer being swept around by the currents, blood mingled with the salt water on the right half of the pirate captain's face to form a crimson mask.

Frightened shouts drew Ana-Maria's attention away from Jack.  The British ship that had been approaching before was now sailing around the wreckage, leaving a wide berth that would still bring her within range of the pirate's now basically helpless in the water.

The ship drew nearer still, and the female pirate waited, treading water, watching leerily, just able to discern a line of redcoats standing at the bow.

The sound of gunfire rang out over the water, and the female pirate watched as pirate's screamed in pain.  Most of Jack's crew had at least a rudimentary ability to swim, and some men jumped out of the boats and into the water, hoping to do what she wasn't sure.  A few returned fire, and two of the redcoats cried out and backed away, but more stepped forward to take their place.

Ana-Maria again clamped one hand around Jack's mouth and nose and sank, hoping to be overlooked in the general melee as they were closer to the Pearl than anyone else.  A hiss of pain escaped in a shower of bubbles as a streak of pain ran down her upper left arm, but she otherwise ignored it, staying under as long as possible before surfacing again, grabbing a breath, diving, forcing air into Jack's lungs, and continuing to wait for the carnage to end.

When she surfaced again, the British ship had turned and was pulling away.  The surface of the sea reflected the sun with a definite reddish tint, and bodies sank slowly or floated on top of the water.

The female pirate towed her motionless burden towards one of the still-upright boats, keeping a careful eye on the British ship, but they seemed to be certain that they had hit everyone, as no more shots rang through the air.

Ana-Maria grabbed the boat with her left hand, wincing as her arm burned at the upward movement.  It was going to be nearly impossible to get both of them into the boat without capsizing it, and she somehow doubted that Aaron would be much help in getting them up, given that he was sporting a rather large hole in his chest.

"Jack, I could use some help here."  The pirate captain gave no response.  Ana-Maria waited a moment more.  Then she carefully maneuvered her captain over to the boat and threw one of his arms up and over the edge, which was riding lower than normal due to Aaron's dead weight.  Then she maneuvered his other hand up and over the edge before giving his entire body as hard a shove as she could upwards and in towards the boat, leaving the pirate captain hanging off the side, which listed towards him.

Ana-Maria quickly dove under the boat, grabbed the other side, and heaved herself into the boat, lunging across the small craft both to keep it from capsizing and to grab Jack as he threatened to slip back down into the sea.  A few minutes of maneuvering left Jack and Ana-Maria alone in the bloody boat.

The female pirate turned her attention to her captain.  He was breathing, though shallowly, and she suspected that he had inhaled salt water.  A slash ran along his back, and seemed to be from a sword rather than the explosion.  A combination burn and gash ran along the right side of his head, starting just in front of his ear and continuing upwards until it disappeared under his hair.  Her own arm burned where it had been grazed by the shot, but she ignored the pain.

She was stranded on a boat with one oar, an injured man, no food or water, no shelter from the sun, and no way to find help, in a sea that would more than likely soon be teaming with sharks and the like.

Stretching out next to Jack on the bottom of the boat to rest and dry off as she decided what to do, she consoled herself with the fact that it could be worse.

She could be utterly alone.