Disclaimer: I still don't own anything that you recognize. Sorry girls, Jack Ferriman will not be available for rent at this time.

Chapter 10

Jack froze as his mind worked over the complications of Murphy's revelation. Shocked, he let his grip on Murphy's mind go. The man collapsed to the floor as the pain ceased, shaking and breathing harshly.

Jack ignored this and puzzled over this new bit of information. His head was pounding.

'Why did I get myself into this shit?' he thought for the first time since his death, 'Why did I agree to do this? I should have just gone to Hell where I belong; I wouldn't have had to deal with all this drama.'

Jack massaged his temples and started to pace, ignoring his companions behind him. Jack knew Murphy was telling him the truth; he couldn't have lied while Jack was in his head like that. The more Jack thought about it, the more it made sense. Ashe was about the right age to be Murphy's offspring, she certainly shared his passion for the sea and boats, and now that he thought about it, they had some of the same facial features and expressions.

A chuckle worked its way up Jack's throat, soon turning into hysterical laughter. Why did this have to happen? Why did things have to go and get so goddamned complicated? Jack doubled up, grasping his side as he tried to quell the laughter. Greer, Dodge, Munder and Santos had all turned to face him, giving him looks that suggested they believed him thoroughly insane. Even Murphy, his chest heaving and sweat pouring down his face, raised his eyebrows in Jack direction.

If there was one thing Jack prided himself on, it was his sanity. Fifty years of being both alive and dead, killing thousands and spending most of his time at sea, and he was still sharp as a tack. But as the implications of Murphy's words washed over him, he started to think that maybe they were right. Maybe he was finally losing his mind.

Jack stopped laughing as suddenly as he had started as he realized how very un-amusing this situation was.

"Shit…" he muttered, and then he looked up and spoke sharply to his crew, "What the fuck are you looking at?"

Greer snorted, Munder shook his head and Dodge pointed to his temple so to say 'he's out of his mind'. They all turned around, leaving Murphy's prone form on the ground. The old man was still getting over the after-effects of Jack's intrusion.

Jack strode over to Murphy, knowing what had to be done. He looked down at the man who had fought him so hard.

"You're time is almost up, old man. You've got a little reprieve right now, but when I get back, I'm gonna finish what I started. Enjoy your freedom while it lasts."

Murphy looked up at Jack with a look of utmost loathing on his face. But to Jack's intense pleasure, the old seaman's eyes also held fear and dread.

"Where are you going?" Murphy asked sharply, letting Jack know that the man knew exactly where Jack was going.

"I'm going to have a chat with your little girl, Murphy," Jack sneered, enjoying the look of hatred on the other man's face, "She was getting pretty cozy with me earlier, who knows? We might not even need to leave her bedroom."

Jack barked a laugh when Murphy bared his teeth at him. Jack was having fun baiting the old guy; he was easy to get a rise out of.

"But," Jack started again in a conversational tone, "Perhaps she's just too emotionally fragile for that type of relationship. After all, she had a pretty shitty childhood. You know, she told me when she was drunk that she's never felt loved, Murphy, not once in her life. I wonder how differently things might have turned out had she had a father figure in her life, eh? I wonder if she wouldn't have cried herself to sleep every night, feeling like she would never find anyone that loved her."

Lies, of course. Ashe had never said anything of the sort, but Jack took pleasure driving in each word like an arrow through Murphy's heart, watching the old man's heart break as his own fears were affirmed.

"You never gave her what she needed, Murphy," Jack continued, "You never loved her, you left her and her mother to live in poverty. Her mother's dead, you know. She took up smoking after you left, and now she's dead of lung cancer." Jack smirked. "I wonder who's fault that is?"

Murphy looked like he couldn't take any more, but Jack had to say this one last thing, had to make sure Murphy was so badly beaten that he wouldn't think of doing something to fuck things up even more.

"You know what she told me, Murphy? She told me that I was the only man she's ever trusted. She told me that I was the only one who understood her. It's surprisingly easy to work her mind into thinking I care about her, you know. She's needy, she's depressed, she needs someone to lean on. I have her wrapped around my little finger now, Murphy. She'll do exactly what I want her to do."

Jack let that sink in, giving Murphy plenty of time to think about what Jack could do to – and with – Ashe. Then he drove the knife home.

"And if she doesn't, I'll kill her. And you know what, Murphy? Before she dies, I'll tell her about you, that you've been alive up until now but that you've never tried to acknowledge her. I'll make her hate you. And then I'll kill her."

Just then, Murphy lunged at Jack, aiming for his legs to take him down. Another burst of pain through the Mark stopped that notion. Once Murphy had stopped screaming, Jack continued.

"It's sooner or later, Murphy. I kill her now or she dies later, there's no way around it. But if she's gonna be a pain in the ass, it's going to be sooner. And you know what? I'm going to enjoy Marking her. I'm going to enjoy making her my property, because there'll be absolutely nothing you can do about it. Face it Murphy, you're beat. Now if you'll excuse me, I should be going."

Jack stepped over Murphy's form while ignoring the older man's curses and expletives. Jack bounded up the steps to the door leading out of the hold, and as he opened the door to leave he shot a glare at the rest of his crew.

"Keep an eye on him this time," Jack growled in their direction, "No more mistakes."

Jack swung through the door and shook his head to clear it. He grasped his head and muttered a few choice phrases of his own invention that were delightfully obscene, then sent his mind out to look for Ashe. He found her where he had expected to: her cabin. Opting to walk, Jack set a pace for the lowest cabin deck, wondering why he had ever thought this ship would be easier than the last.

Ashe swam through dreams made up of memories. She twisted and turned on her bed as the images appeared out of the haze of her sleeping mind.

Ashe walked through the dark mist, its black arms constantly swirling around her. The narrow path was littered with stones and briars, but she kept going. She knew she could never go back the way she came.

Shadows leaped at her from the corners of her vision, but as she turned to face them they disappeared. Voices whispered around her, though there was nobody to be seen amidst the swirling black mist. Shouts, screams, came from all directions. Ashe trembled, bleeding profusely.

"Help!" she called, "Is anybody there? Where am I?"

Suddenly, a dark shape loomed out of the mist. As she drew nearer, never straying off the narrow path through the darkness, the shape made itself out to be a huge, ornately carved wrought-iron gate. It stretched far above her head, and she had to crane her neck to view the spectacular gold piece adorning its center topmost spire. Ashe glanced back down the path she had been following, only to find that it had been wiped away behind her. Her white shirt was soaked with her own blood, but somehow Ashe knew that no longer mattered. Panic seized her as the voices drew closer, their whispering growing louder in her ear.

They were all watching her! They were all seeing her, judging her just like all the others! There were too many, too many! Ashe screamed as the wrought-iron gates flew open to reveal a sight that had haunted her dreams for two years since, a sight nobody would ever forget once they saw it. She saw what countless people had seen before her upon crossing the threshold of the gates. She saw what her life had become.

Jack stopped halfway down the corridor leading to Ashe's cabin and narrowed his eyes, concentrating. The sound stopped, but Jack kept his ears open as he crept the rest of the way along the corridor to cabin number 228. He knew that sound too well, mostly because he was usually the one to cause it. It was the sound of screaming.

Hepaused outside Ashe's door, collecting himself to knock. Then he heard it again: a feminine scream of pain and fear. It was coming from behind the door.

"Ashe!" Jack called, pounding on the door, "Ashe, are you in there? What's going on? Ashe!"

Jack tried the door but of course it was locked. The screaming had stopped, leaving in its place an eerie silence. A man poked his head out of a door down the hall and gave Jack a dirty look, but retreated without a word when he glimpsed the look on Jack's face.

Something was wrong. Jack raised his hand to knock again, but just then the door swung open to reveal a sorry-looking creature with dried tears on her face. Ashe.

Ashe awoke to the sound of screaming and a fierce pounding. As she woke, the screams died away, but the pounding continued. It was coming from the direction of her door!

Shewas aware that she looked like shit. Her shirt was rumpled and her hair was a tangled mass from the stresses of the day: rain, smoke, wind and nightmares. Her mascara had run down her face and she was soaked in cold sweat.

"Hang on a minute!" Ashe called to the knocker, wondering with a pang of fear if it was that man from the deck again.

'Yeah, right, Ashe,' she thought as she rose on shaky legs that somehow managed to hold her weight through the aftershock of her dreams, 'You wish. You wish someone would come knocking at your door. They've probably just got the wrong room number or something.'

Ashe's muscles seemed made of jelly as she padded the way to her door. She wrenched it open and stared at the man with his fist cocked back, prepared to take another go at her door.

"Jack?"

Jack took a step back in surprise, lowered his fist and eyes her warily.

"I heard you screaming," he said with a frown, "What's going on?"

So that's where the screams had come from. Ashe winced as she remembered the bloodcurdling wail she had heard upon waking, recognizing it now from the countless other nights she awoken shaken from the memories.

"Oh, that," she said with a shaky laugh and a dismissive shrug, "I was just taking a nap. I had a nightmare."

Jack frowned and Ashe blushed as his eyes traveled over the state of her clothes and hair, then to the makeup mixed with dried tears running down her face. He obviously didn't believe her show of nonchalance for a moment.

"Can I come in for a sec?" he asked suspiciously, peering past her into her room.

"Uh…sure," Ashe conceded slowly, backing out of the doorway and allowing him room to pass. He brushed past her and strode to her bedroom. He threw a cursory glance around the room, as if checking for hidden danger, and then his eyes fell on the bed. The red print bedspread lay on the floor in a heap; she must have kicked it out from under herself at some point. The sheets lay exposed and considerably rumpled. Jack turned to face Ashe, an incredulous eyebrow raised.

"Some nightmare," he said softly.

Suddenly uncomfortable, Ashe cut in front of him, blocking his view of the bed.

"So Jack, what are you doing here?" she asked, then realizing that sounded awfully rude she added, "I mean, why were you outside my room when I screamed?"

Ashe tried desperately to restore some order to her hair and failed miserably, only making her more uncomfortable. She had just realized that Jack was between her and the door, which he had closed behind him, meaning that if Ashe wanted to get out she would have to get around him. He took a step towards her and she took a half-step back.

"Actually," he said after a short but pronounced pause, "I was wondering if you'd like to join me for dinner up in the ballroom. That's if you haven't eaten yet, of course."

He smiled at her briefly and took another step forward. He had changed since that afternoon on the deck, and he now wore a simple, perfectly-tailored suit, though his dark hair was still mussed from the wind. His eyes no longer held any hint of the predatory stare they had possessed earlier, only a warm, inviting glow. Inexplicably, Ashe felt the emotions from the deck earlier leaking slowly back into her mind. She wondered why she had been nervous; it was only Jack. Jack, who had listened to and understood her. Jack, who had kissed her twice.

She smiled back and nodded slowly.

"I'd love that," she replied, "Just let me get cleaned up a bit." She motioned to her disgruntled appearance. Jack nodded and went to sit down in the desk chair. Fighting down a sigh, Ashe crossed to her suitcase and drew out what she would need. She went into the bathroom and closed the door. She sat down hard on the edge of the bathtub and put her head in her hands, letting out a small groan. What had she gotten herself into? She hated being around crowds, yet she had just agreed to dinner in the great ballroom with hundreds of strangers! What was wrong with her? Mentally smacking herself over the head, Ashe debated going back out and telling Jack that she couldn't go. After a few moments, she decided against it.

'Ashe,' she reprimanded herself, 'You're here for a reason. Staying locked in your cabin the whole trip will not do you or anyone else any good. You've got to at least try.'

Nodding, Ashe got up. She slipped out of her clothes and took a quick shower. After toweling dry her hair, she brushed it up into a knot at the back of her head that she could never get quite the way she wanted it to. Grimacing, Ashe decided that it was the best it was going to get. Knowing that dinner in the ballroom was a formal affair, she donned a black floor-length dress and her black strappy sandals. Applying a fresh dose of mascara and lipstick, she checked herself over in the mirror multiple times from all angles before concluding that she looked at least half decent.

Breathing a deep sigh, Ashe exited the bathroom and, seeing Jack exactly where she had left him, gave him a weak smile.

"Okay, we can go," she said softly.

Once Ashe left the room, Jack waited until he heard the sound of the shower starting before closing his eyes and allowing himself to heave a deep sigh. He had felt her start to panic and knew that she had lost the tentative trust she had placed in him earlier. He had expected that, and had almost collapsed with relief when he realized how easy it had been to repair. All he had to do was pull the right strings, say the right things, a little eye contact and he had her. So far, so good.

His plan: take her to dinner, let her consume a bit of wine, and hope for the best. He really didn't want to have to go to the bother of killing her yet, but if she still wasn't ready to open up to him after tonight then that was it. He couldn't afford to waste any more time, and he had a plan to put in motion as soon as possible.

Jack heard the shower shut off and looked at his watch. Time was ticking away. Time was something Jack didn't have a lot of right now, as was patience. He tapped his foot on the ground, slumping slightly in the chair. Why does it have to take women so goddamned long –

Jack straightened as he heard the bathroom door unlock and open. Ashe stepped out and Jack did a double take. That couldn't be Ashe. It couldn't be. The woman before him bore no resemblance to the meek, bedraggled thing he had walked in on a few minutes ago. She still had that fearful, shy look as if she wanted to blend in with the shadows and go unnoticed. Appraising the sleek black gown she wore, Jack figured that she might be able to blend in with the shadows in it, but she certainly wouldn't go unnoticed.

The dress was made of a strange, silky fabric that Jack had never seen before. It clasped behind her neck and came to a low V cut that showed off her cleavage. The material then wound around her torso, hugging her slender form and falling over her hips in a full, swaying skirt that fell to the floor. Her hair was pinned up into a sleek bun, with a single strand of shorter hair falling down the side of her face. As he watched, Jack saw Ashe nervously swipe it behind her ear, only to have it fall out again seconds later. From her earlobes dangled shimmering black stones. She looked terribly self-conscious, and so very delicate. Fragile, as if she were a beautiful glass figurine that would shatter if touched.

Jack felt his mouth start to water. He has always been most attracted to small, delicate women. He liked a woman that he could break easily, that he could dominate and control. One that he could mold to fit his whims and that would quietly obey him, no matter what. Right now, looking at Ashe, he knew she fit that criteria perfectly. If it wasn't for that goddamned block preventing him from seeing into her soul…

Taking a deep breath and quelling the thoughts that surfaced in his mind, Jack rose from the chair and crossed the room to her.

"You look great," he said, smiling when she looked away shyly, "Let's go."

Wrapping his mind around hers and taking her hand, Jack started slowly feeding her thoughts of reassurance and trust. 'This your last chance,' he thought silently to her, 'This is your last chance to let me in. After that, you're dead.'