Author's Note: My. Lord. I cannot believe how long I took to update! At first I could blame it on summer vacation, and then school starting, and then the rehearsals for our play… but all three? Pathetic. I'm so sorry it took so long, and no I didn't give up on the story and I'm not planning on it, I just go through little periods devoid of any creativity whatsoever. And I'm posting this right before school's starting so I don't have time to reply to any comments, although I appretiate them very much so!

Kris

Chapter 17

The next week or so, to put it bluntly, was a time of absolute bliss. Apart from some minor discomforts, like Mia's ignoring Will and the usual tension that arrived between Jack and Elizabeth ("I told you it could never work out with us, dear"), everyone was content. Jack had his ship back, Mia had her cousin back, Will had his wife back and Kris had rediscovered a piece of her past in the form of a friend. They sailed aimlessly (although the majority of the crew would have been surprised to find that out), for once waiting for opportunity to come to them instead of seeking it. Things ran as usual with Jack at the wheel, Kris intermingling between mostly everything, Mia challenging random people to duels and the twins' usual mishaps, although it seemed that Brett had partaken in far more than usual now that Katrina was back aboard.

As for Kris, she couldn't remember being this happy in a long time. Her days were spent with friends, her nights were spent with Jack, and all the in-between time she spent with Mia. After noticing a significant change in her cousin's attitude (she still couldn't tell if it was a hint of seriousness, or maybe even maturity), she had vowed to be a better guardian for her, because although Mia could never admit it, that was exactly what Kris was.

But, of course, many things had changed, besides Mia's attitude. Elizabeth was now a permanent occupant of the ship (even surprising everyone by actually working), and despite her occasional complaints got along with mostly everyone, including Mia, who somehow couldn't seem to dislike her (so she compromised by simply ignoring her existence). Eponine, of course, fit into the crew like a missing glove, happily helping with everything and laughing while she did it. Will had noticed that Mia was paying far less attention to him than she had used to (but it couldn't be possible that she was ignoring him, could it?), but he just associated it with the fact that Kris and Jack were around again. But, of course, the events that had taken place on Jeremy's ship were far from forgotten.

"She was absolutely brilliant, wasn't she?" Kris had exclaimed whilst explaining their story yet again to an audience of Bill, Brett, Mia, Will, Elizabeth and Jacob. "If it wasn't for Kit, we'd probably be dead by now."

"I wouldn't go as far as saying that." Katrina said modestly.

"Oh really, because Kris and I were doing an absolutely wonderful job of escaping." Jack commented.

Mia sat closer to the edge of the group, on the other end of the table from where Jack, Kris and Katrina were loudly relaying their tale for the others, wedged in between Brett and Bill. She had been the first to spot the obvious 'feelings' Brett had developed over a certain female on the ship, and was currently teasing him mercilessly over it. Brett generally tried to ignore the comments, but it was always apparent that he was embarrassed due to the bright red color he turned and the knowing looks his twin would shoot his way. After all, if anyone would be able to tell a person's true feelings, it would most probably be their twin.

"So, when's the wedding?" Mia said slyly, a positively evil grin plastered across her face. Brett's face turned beet red as he rolled his eyes and took another sip of his drink. Bill took on a grin eerily similar to Mia's and patted his brother on the back.

"I do hope we get to help with the planning." He said.

"Oh, we can have cake and wine and a daisy arch!" Mia exclaimed a little too loudly, causing the others to all look up in confusion. The sight of Katrina staring at the three sent a slight pang of panic over the twins, but Jack simply took another drink.

"Daisy arch? You'd never catch me under one of those death-traps." He stated, resting his feet up on the table. "You have my word on that one."

As soon as he said this, the various other debates and conversations started up again. (Now, as you all know kids, Jack's drunken statements can often create a much needed change in the conversation.)

"Death-trap?" Kris exclaimed. "Now how the hell would daisies be a death-trap?"

"Not just daisies, love." Jack pointed out, quite truthfully really. "A daisy- arch. Which reminds me, you know how we got some letters the other day…"

Kris raised an eyebrow and set her drink down. "Yes?"

"Guess who got a letter!" Jack reached back and grabbed a pile of letters off the ledge behind them, picking one out of the stack and sheepishly handing it to Kris. "He-heh…Saved the best for last, you know how it goes…"

Kris shook her head and casually grabbed the letter from his outstretched hand. The stark white of the envelope contrasted shockingly with the dim light of the room, and Kris slowly turned over the letter in her hands as she listened to the conversation being held between Jack and Katrina ("Ah, but New Orleans is French is it not, love? They're all eunuchs I tell you, every last one! And mayonnaise… it's because of them that the horrible stuff exists, isn't it? Oh… you say you're French… well really, they're not that bad, honest…") She turned it over passively as she listened in, shaking her head in mild disbelief.

And then she saw the black seal.

It was as if time stopped suddenly, like a small tear had been made in the fabric of the world and their little room was stuck in the middle of it, everything not quite halted but in excruciatingly slow motion. Perhaps the rest of the world stopped too, or maybe it just kept going as it always did, but Kris wouldn't have known as she stared down at the ominous black seal holding the envelope closed. She tried to make out the symbol and slowly her vision sharpened. It was as if the seal was the clearest thing in the world; Trawe. The emblem of Trawe was embedded in the black wax, and somehow she knew before she opened it…

Black wax. Black meant death.

Kris couldn't remember opening the envelope as she hastily read the letter from the city officials, but that didn't matter as her eyes hungrily searched for the important part. This letter has been sent to you by the official chairmen of the community of Trawe… We hope this letter will reach you in your time abroad…

The conversations around her kept on going ("yes, Jack, I am French, and no I don't know any eunuchs…") But to her they became an in subsequent buzz in the background, slowly becoming more and more lazy until the sound deeply resembled that of a swarm of bees. The candle on the table in front of her flickered lazily, casting shadows across the paper.

We regret to inform you…

Kris's chair scraped against the floor as she stood up, still clutching the letter so tightly that her knuckles began to show white, and looked around with a slightly panicked look on her face. And then she quickly and quietly staked out of the room.

"Honestly Kit, I never did say anything against Frenchwomen…" Jack said, embarrassed slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck with a bejewelled hand.

"I don't take kindly to insults towards my culture, monsieur." Katrina replied teasingly, giving a toss of her dark hair. "And I would love it if you could come up with even a shred of unbiased truth about the eunuch statement of yours."

"Easily!" Jack exclaimed. "Just ask one of the damn things!!"

"Frenchmen are not things, Captain…"

"Sure they are." Jack replied. "Everything's a thing when you think about it lass, isn't that right Kris?" He turned his head backwards to look at her and finally noticed that she had left just moments before. "Kris?"

"I daresay she disagrees." Katrina replied with a grin, before standing up and sauntering over to the other end of the table, as her curiosity over what all the pointing in her direction was about had gotten the best of her.

Jack ignored Katrina's comment. "Where'd she go?"

"Where'd who go?" A rather drunken Gibbs yelled from across the table, but didn't wait for an answer as he jumped right back into his conversation with Will. Jack shrugged and managed to stand up after about the third try, and although he swaggered slightly he actually managed to stay standing. He slammed his glass down on the table after a moment of thought, figuring that it will be there when he got back anyways.

He swaggered over to the door, mostly unnoticed, and stumbled out into the darkness of the night. The fresh air calmed him and he managed to compose himself, and the cool breeze seemed to bring him to his senses like a slap in the face. His eyes adjusted slowly to the dim of his surroundings, and he momentarily stood staring up at the night sky, transfixed by the stars. Everything seemed so much clearer than usual, and the galaxies and cosmos of swirling pinpricks of light seemed nearly hypnotizing. The night was nearly moonless, except for a tiny sliver. God's thumb, someone had once referred to it as. The thumbnail of god was all that lit up the sky.

The slight sound of liquid hitting liquid jarred him from his state of thought. His eyes strained as he looked around the deck, before he noticed a figure leaning over the rail of the deck nearly directly in front of him, barely even eight feet away. A shock of auburn hair was the only distinguishing feature he could see, and he quickly rushed over to Kris as she relieved her stomach over the rail.

She was sick. He rubbed her back slowly, not knowing what to do. No, she wasn't just sick… she was also crying. Sobbing.

"Kris!" He exclaimed softly, gripping her shoulders. "Are you all right?"

She stayed leaning over the rail for a moment, staring into the water, before she straightened up. She looked over her shoulder, and Jack's fears were confirmed; she was crying. Her face was a ghostly white in the dark and there were streaks of tears running down from her reddened eyes. She looked at him with a completely straight face, but her expression sent a sudden shiver through him.

"What is it?" Jack squeezed her shoulders comfortingly, but deep down he was slightly scared. He'd only seen Kris cry once (the only time taking place mere days ago), and he knew it had to be something pretty big that was upsetting her. And her expression… it wasn't as much helpless as it was cold, and at that moment her eyes seemed like the saddest, darkest voids on earth… She broke eye contact with him and seemed to shrink almost in grandeur, bringing her hands together and staring at the piece of paper before thrusting it towards him and looking back out at the ocean.

Jack didn't ask questions as he managed to catch the letter before it fluttered to the ground. He gave one last questioning look at the back of Kris's head before turning his eyes down to the paper.

This letter has been sent to you by the officials of Trawe, written on the third of august… He skipped the unimportant official babble and skimmed down to what seemed to be the point of the letter.

We regret to inform you that on the first of August we found that your Uncle, Benjamin Kayte, was found deceased in his house outside of town. We are very sympathetic towards your loss and ask that you return to Traw in a time period of two weeks for the reading of his will…

Jack didn't need to read the rest of the letter, mostly concerning the will and Mia. He looked up to see Kris watching him silently once again, this time her eyes dry but saddened.

"My lord…" Jack was nearly speechless. He grabbed Kris arms and slowly drew her towards him, letting her head rest on his shoulder. But she didn't cry. Instead a dry, hoarse whisper escaped from her slightly parted lips.

"Benjamin… he's dead…" She closed her eyes, trying to shut the reality out. "He's dead… he's dead…"

"Kris…" Jack patted her back as he held her, but he knew it wouldn't help. Because these kind of things can't be turned back, or even consoled without time.

He was dead.