Disclaimer: Sparrow, Ana and the rest of the POTC world are unfortunately, still not mine.
A/N: As always, I thank you for the many kind reviews. Your words are what keeps me going. Sorry to say that I was a bit confusing with that last chapter. Christopher was not Ana and Precott's brother. They do have a dead brother, but his name was Findley. I didn't really explain Christopher too well, but fear not you'll know who he is by the end of this chapter.
Now, onto the story!
"Jack! Jack wake up!" Ana was kneeling beside the fallen pirate and shaking him by his good shoulder.
Sparrow did not move.
"For heaven's sake," she said to herself, "I just saved you from a bloodthirsty Spaniard. The least you could do is stay alive long enough to thank me."
Sparrow still did not move. Ana placed her ear to his chest. His heart, at least, was still beating. Ana ran her hands through her dark hair. Clearly, the man was hurt much worse than he had let on. He needed to rest, and he did not need to worry about duty driven naval officers or being returned to a Spanish prison.
Ana's eyes drifted up the staircase to the guest room, then back down the 24 steps to Sparrow's limp body.
How in the world was she – Prescott! He couldn't have gotten far.
In seconds, Ana was on her feet and running to the road, "Prescott?"
She heard footsteps, "Annie, what's happened? Are you alright?" Prescott's gentle blue eyes were full of concern.
"I'm fine. It's Sparrow," she explained, dragging her brother back into the parlor, "he's collapsed."
"Sparrow?" he said, "Annie, this soft spot for pirates that you've developed is going to be the end of you."
"Yell at me later, will you," Ana said, "right now I need your help."
A soft spot for pirates. Honestly, Prescott could always be counted on to tell her what she did not want to hear. Truth, or not. Maybe she did have a soft spot for the pirate. Maybe not. Whatever the case, he was badly injured, and she could not stop herself from worrying about him.
Prescott carried the unconscious pirate up to the guestroom and set to work on building a fire. Ana put a fresh bandage on Sparrow's shoulder and was pulling the covers up when she noticed her brother brushing off one of his arms, "what is it?" she asked.
Prescott extended his arm, "blood," he said, referring to the red stain on his sleeve, "get his coat off."
Pulling down the pirate's dark coat, the pair discovered that his white shirt was stained with blood. Ana squared her jaw, knowing what she would see when they removed Sparrow's shirt. His back was still covered with deep slash marks. The man had not been given the chance to heal, and a few of the cuts looked infected. His scarred chest was a myriad of bruises overlapping bruises.
"Dear God," Ana exclaimed, crossing herself. If it was possible, Sparrow looked worse than he had when she had tended to him in the prison.
Prescott's face was a mask of calm, but his eyes betrayed him. Ana could see a storm, "clean the cuts with water and rags. I'm going to the Loyalty. Our surgeon has concocted some sort of cream that helps with infections."
"Thank you, Prescott."
Prescott closed his eyes, "Annie, I don't like Cornado or what he does anymore than you do," he reopened his eyes and fixed them on his little sister, "but, I don't like what you're doing either. I'll give you the cream. I won't turn Sparrow in, but that is it."
Ana nodded.
"You're a big girl, and you can make your own mistakes."
Prescott turned on his heels and disappeared into the hallway.
Ana cleaned Sparrow's wounds and tried to remain calm, despite the fact that the pirate was burning with fever and had not stirred since he fell in the parlor. She closed her eyes, "Captain Sparrow, what horrors have you seen?"
*****
Anamaria leaned against the wall of the prison yard and watched as the sailors from HMS Calypso refilled her stores from the tiny village south of Don Antonio's manor. The sloop had arrived early this morning to convey her and Prescott back to Kingston. At long last, she could leave this cursed prison.
Nearly three weeks had passed since she and her brother had been shipwrecked on this island. In that time, she had seen the darkest side of humanity.
Two nights ago, Jack Sparrow had been returned to the yard. Prescott had made her promise that she would not visit him again, or go near the yard, but she knew the pirate was there. Last night, very late, she had heard him. She awoke from a dream about the Resolute sinking and swore that she could hear the cries of the men as they struggled to keep the ship afloat. As it turned out, she had heard a man's cries.
This morning, Sparrow was once again chained to the stone column. Fresh blood dripped from his back. The cries had definitely been real.
*****
Prescott returned some time later. Ana put the salve on Sparrow's wounds, before joining her brother downstairs in the parlor. The man still had not moved.
"What is it about this pirate?" Prescott asked as she sat in the chair next to him.
"It is nothing about this pirate. It is everything about that Spaniard," Ana replied, "doesn't your stomach turn when you think about what that man is capable of?"
"Annie, I already told you that I don't like Cornado anymore – "
"Then how in the world could you entertain the notion of taking Jack back to him?"
"Jack?" Prescott repeated, his eyebrow raised, "I didn't realize the two of you were on a first name basis."
"You're insufferable."
"And you are becoming dangerously close to a pirate."
"If he is such a terrible person then how do you explain that he has done nothing – Nothing, to hurt me?"
"Oh, I see. You've discovered the fabled gentlemanly rogue?"
"Are you making fun of me?"
"Yes."
Ana sighed, "I just cannot stand by and watch a man suffer like that, never mind being responsible for handing him over to the likes of Cornado."
"So, what are you going to do? Keep him in your guestroom indefinitely?"
"Yes. And maybe we'll have a torrid affair and run away together."
"You call me insufferable?"
"Look, Prescott. I'm worried about him. Pirate or not, I'd prefer if he didn't die upstairs. So, yes, I'll let him stay until he's well enough to go."
"You're getting in over your head."
"What do you make of him?" Ana asked, ignoring her brother's last comment.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, you tracked down quite a few pirates. What do you know about Sparrow?"
"I think Sparrow is either – "
"The best or the worst pirate to ever sail," Ana finished Prescott's thought with a smile, "you've told me that before. Why is he the best or the worst?"
Prescott leaned closer to his sister, "do you remember the story about him escaping from the East India Company?"
"Yes. I read that he vanished without a trace. The papers made him sound like a ghost."
"I remember," Prescott agreed, "there are a lot of stories like that about Sparrow. Fantastic tales with no real explanation. He could be a very lucky man. Perhaps he was caught by the seven dumbest agents that work for the East India Company. On the other hand, he could be a genius. His escape could have been so well planned and executed that it really did seem like he just disappeared into thin air."
A smile crossed Ana's lips as she pictured Jack vanishing in a cloud of smoke.
"No one really knows anything about the man," Prescott continued, "he showed up in these waters about four years ago on a ship with black sails called the Black Pearl. Before that, next to nothing is known about Sparrow, just a lot of wild stories."
"Such as?"
"Oh, that he was the son of some well to do family, or that he's a colonial. There's even a rumor that he was in the navy."
"Do you think that's true?"
"Your guess is as good as mine."
"Do you know how he ended up in prison?"
"Don Antonio said he was caught in one of the Spanish colonies. He didn't say how. They brought Sparrow to la Cerradura because no one has ever escaped. So much for that."
"What happened to his ship?"
"The Black Pearl still sails, different captain, obviously," Prescott said, his expression changing slightly.
"What's that face for?"
"Just seems strange a pirate giving up his ship."
"Could it have been taken from him?"
"That would be mutiny," Prescott said solemnly. Two years ago her brother had been one of three captains that presided over a court martial in which the officers of HMS Neptune were accused of mutiny. They were found guilty and hanged.
"Some how I cannot see pirates holding courts of inquiry."
"They don't," Prescott said, "if a pirate crew mutinies, then usually the former captain is never seen nor heard from again."
"Do you think that's what happened to Sparrow?"
"Could be. That would explain his capture, if he'd been wounded or something. Maybe he'd just given up, a pirate isn't much without his ship. Could be that Sparrow didn't care if he lived or died anymore," her brother sighed, staring blankly into the crackling fire.
"Careful, Prescott, you're beginning to sound like you give a damn," Ana chided.
"And you're beginning to sound like him," Prescott said, gesturing up the stairs, "don't curse. It's unbecoming."
"There is a pirate sleeping in my guestroom. I am so far past propriety –"
"Yes, I know. But he won't be there forever," Prescott interrupted, "do not forget who you are," he stood up and the siblings walked to the door, "I will not say a word about this as I promised. This is the end though, Annie. No more helping pirates."
"Thank you," Ana said, and it was the sincerest thank you that she had ever felt. Her brother could have easily his behind his commission and arrested Sparrow without a second thought.
Quietly as she could, Anamaria pushed open the door to the guest bedroom. Despite her best efforts, the heavy door creaked loudly. Sparrow turned his head and fixed his espresso eyes on her as she approached the bed.
She smiled, "welcome back."
"Couldn't wait to get ol' Jack in bed, could you?" His voice was soft and tired, but his eyes sparkled with a mischief that Ana had not seen before.
Ana shrugged and sat on the side of the bed, "I guess you have me figured out . . . sugar."
Sparrow furrowed his brow and struggled to pull his ragged body to a sitting position. Ana rushed to his aid, "I don't have you figured out at all," he whispered leaning his head against the wooden frame of the bed.
She pursed her lips. Apparently, he had not forgotten her display in the parlor. No doubt, he would demand to know how she knew about Cornado and his prison, and she was not sure that was a story she wanted to relive just yet.
"Captain, are you trying to kill yourself?" she asked, overlooking Sparrow's statement. Instead, she began wiping the sweat from the injured man's brow. He was watching her intently, but she did not meet his eyes, "you really should be resting."
"Who's Christopher?"
"What?" Ana said, surprised by Sparrow's question.
"You know, the chap your brother seems to think is turning summersaults in the ground?"
Ana lowered her eyes to her left hand, "he was my husband."
I hope that wasn't too mean of me to leave you hanging here, but I want to keep you all coming back for more! Don't forget to drop me a review before you move on. I have to once again thank everyone who has reviewed so far. Cal, I am so grateful that you take the time to leave me those incredible reviews. I only hope that my little story lives up to them. Kungfuchick, I'm so glad you like this story. Mecano_Grl don't worry, not every Spaniard in my story will be as awful as Cornado. Lykosdracos, welcome home. I hope you had a great vacation, thanks for coming back to my story.
Alright, I have finals this week so I'm not sure how much I'll get to write, but the next chapter is in my head and begging to get out (it's probably scary in there) so I'll try to update soon!