Title: Of the Sea Rating: PG-13
Chapter Title: 4. Reflections
Summary: A party, followed by a dream, followed by a hangover, followed by a conversation, a deal, and some rum.
Timeline: Wednesday, May 4, 1675
Author: Cicatrix (Marin K.)

A roaring party was held in the mess that night, like many others following a successful and profitable raid. Pints upon pints of grog and ale lifted from the Lady Anne were passed around, and the crew laughed and talked. They sang in off-tune voices, reminisced and told tall tales (each more unbelievable and outlandish than the next, though most everyone was too drunk to notice).

The air around the many tables was light, everyone grinning over their respective drinks. Raucous laughter poured from a nearby table, while Matthew listened with half an ear to Mr. Gibbs, who was recounting one of Jack Sparrow's fabulous adventures, this one about how Jack had done the unthinkable and sacrificed that most holy of drinks, rum, to get himself off the island on which he'd been marooned for the second time. Next to him, Anamaria rolled her eyes.

"Another pint?" Jack waved a mug under Matthew's nose. With a grin, he drained his half-empty glass and traded it for the full one that was offered. Jack, who seemed more drunk than usual, stumbled to the cask to refill it. He staggered back, sunk onto the bench next to the younger man. "You should see the scars!" When no one expressed the desire to see them, he shrugged helplessly, then paused a while. "To freedom!" he toasted.

"Aye," Matt added, tapping his pewter mug to the other, "and t'the boundless g'n'ros'ty of Lady Anne!' Everyone else laughed and raised their glasses in agreement, then drank deeply of their draught.

"You know," Jack said in a conspiring whisper, "for a lightweight, you handle your drink well."

Matthew grinned. "Thanks mate," he drawled, leaning back against the table and stretching his legs out in front of him, "pr'ctish, y'know."

The whole affair would end several hours later, with most of the men laid out on tables or passed out on the floor.

Somewhere, a woman's scream tore through the night's shadow. Matthew tried to jerk himself awake, but his body would not react. Voices were jeering, taunting. They filled his ears with their abominable insults.

"Here's a pretty little thing, boys! Turns out Anthony has some benefits we have yet to take advantage of."

"What's a little lass like you doing out here in the middle of the ocean pretending to be something she's not?"

"Bad luck to have a woman on board, isn't it?"

"Aye, but a naked one'll calm the sea, she will."

"If you touch me, I swear I'll kill you."

"That's not very nice! Miss Sharp here hurt my feelings!"

Miss Sharp? How did they know?

It was cold, the chill enough to freeze flesh down to the bone. The voices were replaced by screams, by hands that groped and tore and bruised, points of knives that traced thin, deep lines in soft tissue. Between her legs, something burned and ripped and hurt. She felt split through the center of her being, as if her guts were shredded and unraveled. There was so much blood, she felt it but couldn't see it, couldn't stop its flow.

Something held her down, bound her wrists and her ankles. It was impossible to breathe, hands at her throat and... She struggled in vain, tried to kick or punch or scream, but she could not move, no sound would escape her lips. She was engulfed.

Water. It filled her nose and her mouth, and she gasped for air, in vain. She flailed, tried to find the surface, but she sunk deeper beneath the waves, something dragging her down. Her lungs were on fire, they ached for oxygen, screamed for it. She was drowning, and she knew she would die.

Matthew woke in a cold sweat. He could feel his heart racing within his chest, and all the bruises and cuts on his body seemed to throb with a pulsing, dull pain. Even his lungs felt damaged. A splitting pain pounded in his ears. That was the alcohol. He pushed himself up with his elbows and sat up slowly. He was sitting on the top of the table, and the bodies were piled around him, many snoring. Jack was in a chair in the corner, his hat tipped over his eyes. Matt stood, stepped carefully to avoid disturbing the sleeping.

The night air was soothing and warm, and the moon was bright in the sky, though it was waning now. The dark waters were calm. Matthew took several deep breaths. It was only a dream. He rubbed the bruise that darkened his throat, and then stared at his wrists. Realistic dream, he corrected himself, very realistic dream. Still a dream though. Wasn't it? He decided it was. He sighed, reaching behind his back, tugging at the cloth under his shirt. Blasted things, he thought, not sure if he was thinking of the bandages which kept his figure in check, or the more feminine attributes that made said bandages necessary. He couldn't find the knot; he let his hands fall to his side.

"Curse this body," she murmured to herself, imagining her small breasts. She was of average height, measuring slightly closer to six feet than five, and was small-framed. She was not particularly curvaceous, having an undersized bust and little to no hips. It essence, her figure perfectly suited her purposes. Despite her thinness, she was by no means fragile, though her bruised flesh lent that appearance; there was no part of her body that did not bear those black and purple abrasions; they covered her slim hips, her breasts, ribs, shoulders, neck, arms, wrists... She wished she could believe herself, the constant mantra she repeated: it was a dream. She shook her head. I don't remember what happened. It's human nature to assume the worse. Doesn't mean it's real. For long minutes, she stood in silence, staring into the ocean.

"Matt, you alright?" He flinched visibly when he felt the hand touch his shoulder. He crossed his arms across his chest, turned his head and looked at Jack, who stood behind him. The man's face was half in shadow, and his dark eyes held a look that looked almost like concern. Almost.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Wanted a breath of air. Bit of a headache, too. What're you doing out here?"

"I woke up about a minute ago. I was on my way to my cabin, saw you out here."

"Ah."

"You going to sleep?"

"Nobody's doing the night watch. I might as well."

"Ah."

"You?"

Jack smiled vaguely. "I might join you."

"You don't have to, Captain."

"I want to. And Jack's fine."

Matthew turned away from the sea, looked at Jack. He smiled, sat on the ground. Jack sat down next to him. The older man pushed his hair behind one shoulder, the many beads clinking gently against each other. For what seemed an hour, they sat and stared out across the deck.

"You said you had a headache," Jack said at last.

"Yeah."

"Drink this, it'll help." A bottle of rum was thrust in Matt's direction. He accepted it, guzzled some of its contents down, and passed it back to Jack, who took a swig in turn. Matthew smiled.

"It does. Is it true that you burned the entire cache on that island in a signal fire?"

Jack grinned enigmatically. "If I tell you, you have to tell me something about yourself, too. Fair trade." When the other nodded, he took it for an accord. "Alright, it's not exactly true. I got stranded with this girl, Elizabeth, and she and I got really drunk--" he paused, "Okay, I drank myself into a stupor and she pretended to be really drunk, and I passed out. She then snuck off and burned all the rum, and the food, and the shade, so the navy showed up to rescue us... well, her. They picked me up because they wanted to hang me, which I dare say wasn't very kind of them. But she burned the rum!"

"Stupid wench," Matthew interrupted.

"No kidding," the other said. "She's wrong though."

"Wrong? I thought you got rescued?"

"Yeah, but she also said rum was a 'vile drink', and that's obviously not true." They both laughed. "Your turn."

"Alright, alright. What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

"You'll owe me."

"Agreed."

Author's note: Chapter four, at last. Actually, it hasn't been that long since I uploaded chapter three. It's really cold in here right now, I don't know why. I'm shivering. Brr! I don't know what to say about this chapter. If it looks like there's a word missing, please let me know. I typed it up on the school computers, which have the tendency to censor stupid words, so it may have deleted a word or twelve. I couldn't find any missing, but I really just skimmed it.

Review responses:

heather321: Lots, I hope. I have a rough outline written for the first fourteen chapters, so there'll be at least that many, and probably more.

DaydreamBeliever14: Thank you. Chapter five should start appearing soon. I hope. I uploaded it last night.