Disclaimer: See last five chapters.

A/N: Endless Rain and Name of Reading: I love you….sniff

(Looks out into the great big world) Hello? Is anybody out there? Is anybody gonna review my story? HelloooooOoo……

Chapter 6

Ashe loved the rain. There was something comforting about it, as if the darkness and pouring water all around her would hide the gloom and tears inside herself. No one else was out on the deck, and Ashe could imagine that she had this whole glorious ship to herself, that she could sail into the sea forever and never have to return. Without thinking, Ashe made her way to the front of the ship. The railing came to a sharp point at the prow, and Ashe nestled herself into the little nook, sitting on the ground with her legs trailing between the bars, dangling over the edge.

'Take that, Kate Winslet,' Ashe thought, reflecting on a film she had watched in her last year of high school, in which the actress had stood at the prow of a ship much like this one and proclaimed "I'm flying!" Ashe had rolled her eyes during that part. She had been sitting at the back of the theatre alone, watching the movie only because she hadn't wanted to go home. It had been a rainy day just like this one…

Ashe shook her head. Why was she always dwelling in the past? 'Because that's all you have left…' a small voice in her head said.

"No," she whispered out loud, shaking her head, "I have tons of time to do the things I've always wanted to do. I can't let my past bog me down now…" She fell silent, listening to the patter of raindrops on the deck and watching the ripples they made in the water.

The horizon stretched out in front of her, unbroken and eternal in the distance. White mist rose from the water, blurring the clear line between sea and sky, making it seem as one. She was alone in the middle of this gray world, and the only thing she wanted, the only thing she had ever wanted, was to sail over that horizon, to be swallowed away by the mist and rain and stay here alone with the sea and the sky forever.

Ashe had always embraced the idea of death as salvation, as an end to the torture of living in this world. Yet she had never once thought of taking her own life. She had contemplated it, of course, who doesn't? But she had never seriously considered it. She knew that her time would come eventually, and that it would be an end to her troubles. But now…She peered over the edge of the railing where her feet dangled, judging the distance to the roiling water below. Her hair blew behind her in a sudden wind, like a chestnut flag. The seat of her jeans was soaked from sitting in the wet deck, and she shivered in the cold. 'Don't you dare,' whispered something in her mind, 'You have no right to do that. You have a second chance, a chance to actually make a difference, to make yourself known to the world. You will not throw that away.'

"But I never wanted this," she thought, "I never wanted to be back here, with so many people, and I'm still invisible…"

A single tear leaked from her eye, mixing with the rainwater on her face. She knew she had to be here. She had a purpose here. And she was ignoring it. Suddenly ashamed of herself, she resolved to try harder from now on. She rose to her feet and tugged her sweater down to hide the wet spot on her jeans, although she was so soaked by now that it made little difference. Her hair had fallen out of its clamp long ago and now it clung to her face and neck in whorled tendrils, so dark it looked black.

Ashe turned to go inside, and was just about to grab the handle when the door flew open, smacking her in the face. She flew backward, her nose throbbing in pain, her teeth sinking through her lip. She landed with a small splash in a puddle of rainwater on the deck. She looked up, close to tears with pain and embarrassment. And there, looking down at her with what looked horribly like amusement, was Jack Ferriman.

Captain Sean Murphy sat silently within the lowest holds of the 'Arctic Pearl' with his head in his hands. He sat apart from his former crew, who were passing the time by telling loud obnoxious jokes, as was their habit during their lives.

Murphy's own life had been longer than theirs, and in many respects he didn't care that he was dead. He had always known his time would come eventually, but not like this. He had not lived a hard, lonely life just to die and become that bastard Ferriman's property. He resented Jack not only because he had stolen the souls of so many people before him, but because he had taken the lives of his crew, for whom Murphy felt he was ultimately responsible. His only consolation was that Epps was not amongst the four men in the hold with him.

Murphy felt a pang of regret and grief at the thought of the young woman he had known for so long and yet not long enough at all. She had been more than a friend and coworker, she had been like the daughter he had never had. He had never expressed this to her while he had lived, and now it pained him to know he would likely never see her again.

Murphy's life had been devoid of any real family. Born in Massachusetts to a pair of poor Irish immigrants, he had led a rough and very short childhood. When his father had died in a boating accident, Sean had dropped out of school to take over the family fishing business to support his mother and little sister. He had been sixteen at the time.

Just after Murphy had turned twenty, his mother had been overcome by Alzheimer's, and he had decided to leave New England for the west coast, where he had joined a team of ship salvers and learned the business.

When he was twenty-five, he had met a young Canadian woman and settled down with her for a while. It hadn't lasted long. After a few months, Murphy had found life on the land suffocating, the call of the sea strong in his blood. He had left her one night in early spring with only a note telling her that he would always love her, but that he couldn't ignore his very nature.

He had driven to the nearest port, full of regrets, and had joined another salvage crew. He had found that salving was his passion; he loved the thrill of finding something that had seemed lost forever and restoring it.

Murphy had never had another relationship with a woman that had lasted longer than one night. He had lived from job to job, on the sea more than he was on land. He loved the sea and all it had to offer, while the land held only bitter memories.

At the age of forty-six, Murphy had bought the 'Arctic Warrior', and soon after had contracted his very own crew. For three years they had brought up more wrecks than some salvers did in a lifetime – they were the best damn salvage crew in the business. Murphy himself was at the peak of his career and the happiest he had ever been. He was part of a close-knit family, albeit a dysfunctional one, and together he and his crew had shared laughter and tears, success and failure, love and loss. He had never expected or wanted any more.

Until a few short days ago, when it had all ended so abruptly.

A single tear rolled down the old seaman's cheek now as he surveyed all that remained of his hard, lonely lifetime – a few chests of gold and far too many ghosts.