Feeling Chapter Four

Sorry, ths isn't a new chapter or anything.... It just was brought to my attention that I had a bit of OOCness in the case of Jack's personality. Thank you Rose Noire le Mort for pointing out my flaw. As I've said many times before.... The only way for my writing to improve is with the help of reviewers like you. If you tell me what's wrong, I'll do my damnedest to fix it. Thank you all for your input....

And, now, on with the show!.... um.... err.... Story!:

Feeling Chapter Four

"Ana?" His voice is more felt than heard. He spoke my name softly, as if afraid of ruining the moment.

"Hmm?" My tone matches his. I don't want to ruin the mood either. It feels so.... ethereal, so.... surreal. The pale moonlight casting its silvery glow, the two of us wrapped tightly in each other's arms, and the soft sounds of a life at sea.

"How long have you been doing this to yourself?" He traces the scars of my exposed arm as he speaks. So much for calm and captivating storybook ending.

I might as well be honest. I'm sure he can see through a lie, anyways. "Since...." Alright, so I can't be completely honest. I cant tell him about Barbossa, so I can't tell him the whole truth.... "Since they found out I was a woman." I don't have to tell him who 'they' are. I know he knows I mean his former crew. I just hope he's content with the answer.

He's silent for a while. In the silence, I pray he doesn't pry. How can I explained myself? (How can he trust you when you don't trust him?) On, god, don't let the Voice be back. Not now. (Why not?) I don't have time for you.

Jack's voice startles me out of my mental conversation. "That was nigh sixteen years ago.... You've been hurting yourself for that long?" I don't answer. He must take my silence as a yes, because he continues. "Why didn't you tell anyone? I thought you trusted me." I really don't want to be having this conversation. I want to sink right through the floorboards.... I already feel so small.... He means well by it, I know that. I just feel so.... bad.... so guilty.... "I would have helped. You know that, don't you? Why do you still do it? Things are going so well. We're the most feared pirates in the Spanish Maine.... Nay, the entire world. Why do feel you have to hurt yerself?"

How could I explain it to him? The warmth of my blood trailing down my arm.... The relief that comes from ridding myself of the pain.... How could he possibly understand? He became a pirate by choice. I became one by necessity. He grew up with a loving family, mine hated me. He knew what it's like to be loved. It's easy for him to love. He understands it. What do I have? Jack, the Black Pearl, and the crew. I can't just sit by and let someone love me. It's not in my nature.... And he wants me to explain to him why I need my knife? I just can't tell him.

(He wouldn't understand, even if ye could find the words.) No, he wouldn't. (He'd just judge ye fer no' being perfect like him.) I'm not so sure about that part. (If you told him the truth, he'd want t' be rid of ye. Ye can' tell 'im.) I want to.... If I could find the right words to say it.

The silence echoes in my ears. I can hear every little sound. The creaking of the ship.... Jack's and my breathing.... The whisper of the wind.... And.... it sounds like footsteps.... in the cabin. But we're both standing still. My focus is turned the footfalls, pacing back and forth, from us to the bed and back to us. The steps are so soft, I can't be certain if they're really there or not.

Jack's words once again steal my attention. "Ana? Are you alright?" He must've mistaken my silence as a sign something is wrong. "You can trust me. Please, tell me what's wrong." He actually said "please". He never says please. Why does he care so much why I cut and burn? He has no relation to me, so what's the problem? It's not as if it's limiting my ability to preform my duties as First Mate.

(Perhaps he has a different reason for caring. Like he truly is concerned about you.) Why does the Voice even care? Why should I trust it? 'Maybe I'd be more inclined to believe you if I could see you.'

"Ana?"

"Sorry. I was distracted...." Well, it was the truth.... The Voice is really distracting me. (Apologies.) Yeah, right.

"What's wrong?" His finger traces an especially decorative scar, a crown over a setting sun. I was feeling creative when I did that one. His gentle touch sends a warm shiver down my spine. "If you ever need anyone to talk to, I've got two perfectly good ears. No' much between them if ye ask 'most anybody.... But My ears still work, in any case." He pulls back a bit from our embrace. My arms tighten around his waist. I don't feel like being left alone right now. I don't really feel like anything other than standing there in the warm shelter of his arms.

"Wait." I can't let him go, and I need to explain why. He deserves that much at least. "I don't know how to explain what it's like to feel the release when a vein is opened, or when my bubbling flesh hisses my name. I don't know how to make you understand how it feels when warm blood coats cool flesh. You can't truly appreciate the calming.... euphoria that comes with this type of pleasure." I don't know why I'm being so bloody poetic.... I'm starting to sound like a simpering noble–woman.... "It's just not something you couldn't understand."

"Ana...." His mask is up. That usually means he's either debating on whether to say or do something, or he's trying to figure out the best way to rid himself of a problem. I really pray it's the first. I'd rather him say something hurtful and cruel, than lose him forever. "You've had a rough life...." I feel relief that it's only words he was debating on. But now I dread what he's about to say.... "You've had too short of a childhood. You don't know love.... But you're not the only person in the world who's had pain. I've had my fair share of hardships, too. Just because you've had some troubles, that doesn't make you turn to slicing open your body for relief. There must be something more. Tell me, help me to understand." I feel like a child being scolded by my older brother for doing something wrong. "Let me take away your pain a different way. Let me love you. Let me teach you how to love. That's one of the few lessons I did pay attention to growing up.... Let me in. Let me in and I'll show you how to be happy. You won't have to do this any more." He runs his hands over my scars. "Just think about it, alright?"

There are so many things I want to say. So many things I want to do. Still, all I do is nod slightly and bury my face in his chest. I knew it. He doesn't understand. He doesn't get the fact that my wounds aren't just boredom. I need to do this as badly as he needs to drink his rum. (Now let's not get carried away here....) I need the release. Otherwise the pain just builds up. With out my crimson tears, I'd be reduced to a sobbing child, emitting silver ones.

(Now is that really true? Ye'd die if ye didn't bleed yerself?) 'Yes!' (I doubt tha'.) 'What do you know?!' Anger is beginning to well up inside of me. My knife is calling for me. Its pull is almost irresistible. (So 'tough, powerful, Anamaria' can't fight against the attraction of a puny knife? You're no' as strong as ye say, then, aye?) I want to scream at the Voice.... I want to hurt it.... I want to claw up my arms to alleviate my mental anguish.... I want to just stay curled up in Jack's embrace.... Guess which one I'll end up doing.

I practically suffocate myself in the rough fabric of Jack's shirt. "I just want it to stop...." Speaking of silver tears.... They quickly begin to fill my eyes. "I just want it all to end.... The pain.... The Voice.... The sorrow.... I just want it to go away." Too bad I don't know how to make that happen. I doubt Jack can either.

I feel his arms around my waist. He holds me close to him. I feel myself lifted off me feet. He carries me to my bed, setting me down gently. I feel the bed give beneath me to accommodate him as he sits beside me. Our arms are still around each other, and we just sit there a moment. He pulls away slightly, just enough to look in my eyes.

"Will you try, for my sake?" I almost ask him 'try what', when he continues. "I'd hate to have to find a new First Mate because you got over–enthusiastic about one of your knife drawings." His eyes fogged over, and after a moments silence, he added, "I don't know what I'd do without you...." He sounds so sincere. Why does he care so much? I just don't understand it.... What's the big problem, anyway? It's my life, and my body. Why can't I decide what to do (or not do) with my body?

(I don't think that's what he means by all of this....) Then what? (Maybe he really cares, ever thought of that?) But why? (Sometimes there isn't a reason.)

I don't understand why he cares so much.... But, looking at the worry and sorry in his eyes, I know.... "I want to try. I want to make things right.... But.... It's just so hard. I––" his finger on my lips stops anymore words.

"That's all I'm asking for. I know it'll be a challenge.... But since when was there ever a challenge that either of us couldn't face? Together, we can do anything.... If you put your mind to it, I know you can stop hurting yourself.... I'll be there for you whenever you need anything." He smiles, though it's just a shadow of his usual grin. "Besides, don't you get hurt enough in battles? I thought you'd be sick of it by now."

I laughed softly at that. "Just because your fighting skills are lacking and you get injured as a result, doesn't mean it's the same for me."

"There's the smile I've come to love." I blushed slightly at that. "Now, what say you to letting me take care of those burns?" I've all but forgotten them, but at their mention, a throbbing, searing pain emits from them. I nod. "Good. Then let me gather the materials, and I'll have them as good as new." As much as I respect him as a Captain, I somehow doubt that Jack is very good at taking care of wounds. I guess I'll find out....

"Then we can work on getting you over your fascination with pain. Hopefully it'll help me just as much. Perhaps once you get past your pain–is–fun phase, you'll not only stop wanting to hurt yourself, but you'll stop wantin' t' hurt others as well.... Meself bein' on the top of tha' list, of course...."

All I can manage as a response to that is a soft "Good luck with that. I'll still slap ye when ye deserve it." Besides, even if I stop, he'll still get slapped....

I don't know if he heard me or not; he's already on the other side of the cabin, retrieving scraps of cloth to bandage my wounds.

He turns back to me, accoutrements in hand. I can tell I was heard by the smile on his face. Even if I wasn't certain he caught my words, his words assure me he did. "Well, then.... I'll just have to be more careful not to deserve it...." He pauses a moment, nearly stumbling in the dark. "Ye will have some leniency for a daft fool like me, won't ye?"

I stifle a laugh as I answer. "Only if ye make sure t' keep yer promise..."

What lay on the horizon? I don't know.... But, for once, I won't be alone when I face whatever it is....

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So, that's it for "Feeling". As they say, "All good things must come to an end". But, at least in this case, there's more to come. I'm already midway through a sequel. Hell, I'm already at least midway through four different stories, all in this time–line. Unfortunately, to keep some semblance of order, I must post them in chronological order. Too bad that's not quite how I wrote them.... I just follow the Plot Bunnies wherever they take me..... Blame them, I'm just the lowly scribe who feeds and cares for them until they grow big and fat enough to kill and make into a nice meaty story....

As always, reviews are most welcome.... Tell me how good I am, how bad.... Just tell me what you thought. I actually try to listen to what you say. Use your voice (well, written voice, but you get the idea) and you will be heard.

I hope you enjoyed the story, and Read and Review! Domo Arigato! I know, I spelled it crapily again, sorry.... Damn Usagi....! (I've been watching Japanese Anime again. Sailor Moon. Can't help the poorattempt at Japanese.... --notices all staring--What? I can't like Anime?)