Title: Time Cannot Erase

Characters: Grapple, Mallot, Jacoby, Sara (OC), Allen Hobbs (OC), Molly (OC)

Disclaimer: The song lyrics that inspired this story are from Evanescence's 'My Immortal'

Summary: An unconscious biography of a character that is marked with death, angst, violence, love and blood. As he ponders his past and contemplates the future, memories plague him of his highest and lowest moments in life.

Author's Notes: Not much. I wrote this as a one-shot fic originally but changed it, as it was way to long in my opinion.

ALSO, September 19th is International Talk Like A Pirate Day!!! So celebrate and rejoice, ye thievin' scum!!! : D

Two: Liaison

When I was fifteen, Sara came up to the loft by herself. This was common; Jonathan (thirteen at the time) was probably busy elsewhere or didn't feel like whatever she was planning on. She had a book with her, an adventure and romance novel about pirates. I found it amusing that pirates could be portrayed as heroic loving figures when I had grown up around many and knew better. She wanted to read the book regardless, so we did. The romance was...definitely there. I don't believe I had heard grown men talk about sex so much. Sara found it hilarious I stumbled so badly on most of my words. She got a lot closer to me and we eventually ended up lying down together, her in front of me and on our sides as I held the book out in front of us where both of us could see it. I didn't quite notice when it started, being busy with reading, but when she leaned back against me after a while; I definitely did notice I caused a small problem.

Well, being a teenager with 'raging hormones' who the bloody Hell would blame me? I had an attractive girl pressed up against me reading a highly detailed romance novel! She noticed the problem as well. What did she do? Laugh. Not at me, at the fact that she had excited me and given me an erection. I think that's the point where I fell in love with my best friend. Of course, I didn't think much of it; only when she touched me, simply because it reminded me of how she had pushed up against me for comfort. This went on for a year, though I engaged myself with other girls every now and then.

When we were sixteen, I guess men decided she was ripe enough for the taking, because they sure as bloody Hell started trying to make passes on her. She wasn't a whore, and some people were scared to touch her. Hobbs had a loving relationship with his riffle, and knew how to aim it. He would never approve of somebody sleeping with her, let alone kissing her. There was a man though who was clever enough, even when he was drunk. Collin Glencairm, often called 'Glen' by his mates. He was a captain of a ship called 'Sunny Fortunes', a pirate of course. He thought he was to big for his boots, even at the old age of forty-six. He wanted Sara, just to prove he could attain the forbidden. He relentlessly hounded her, making cruel jokes, slapping her rump as she went by, tugging her skirts...

Jacoby has just been laid flat. Although we are cursed, we can still be dazed and knocked unconscious. We can even get sick and show the signs of it, though we aren't affected. We also age, which is why there is such a rushed desperation to get uncursed. I street box whenever we are in port. The crew likes to watch, as well, so I always show off even though I know I'm going to win with immortality on my side. It's bare fist, and I've been seriously cut up and bruised before but I refuse to get knocked out. I'm a veteran to the illegal sport. I've been doing it since I was a young pup of sixteen. Of course, I haven't always won. I've got four false teeth to boot. Huh. Good money though. Anyways, the bastard just singed my ponytail. I've got odd hair, I realize, messy, greasy and a mane-cut, but honesty-burning it? Tch. Heh.

When Sara was seventeen (I had been eighteen by two months) Collin went behind the bar counter. Jonathan, who had been given the position of bartender and was damn proud of it, knocked him back and out of the way. He also pushed the man down the trapdoor that lead into the cellars. Hobbs kept all his ales, wines, and alcohols down there until they needed to be used. There were some very step wood steps and Collin pretended to be hurt. Sara went down to check on him and see if she needed me to drag him out (as I had somehow acquired the extra position of security and 'brute forth-assistance'). When she got down there, Collin dragged her up against the wall and started tearing her gown open. I just happened to be passing by the trapdoor to get myself a drink when I heard her whimper. Her pure voice...God, I miss her. Anyways, I poked my head down there and...this is a part in the story I wasn't present.

I said before I had been affected by my father's abuse towards my sister. I said it somehow got into my mind. Well, it had also given me what I refer to as 'Dementia Praecox'. It's commonly known as Schizophrenia, or Multiple Personality Disorder. I have a violently furious and sarcastic personality, a dramatically playful one and an almost feral one. Jonathan knows about them. He likes to name them. Dah, Keevar and Garou.

Dah came out and nearly ripped Collin to shreds. He dove down into the cellar, yelling and roaring in fury. He ripped him off of Sara, pushing him clear to the other side of the room and tackled him. Collin was screaming for help, Dah was simply beating the man to death. There was a lot of blood, both from him and my own flesh. I wanted to stop after a while but found I couldn't. I was just watching. Even after Hobbs came down to investigate and dragged Collin to safety, he had to get Molly to hold Dah back. She was a strong woman, regardless of how she looked. She could make a rabid dog submit if she wanted to... I broke out of Dah after twenty minutes of trying to break loose and slaughter Collin, who had already been thrown out of the tavern.

I simply became silent and still, and Molly hesitantly let me go. I walked out to my loft and stayed there for a day. Life went on as usual, after that. They figured I had simply been so enraged I snapped and tried to kill Collin as painfully as possible, which I had. Mallot spoke to me once, explaining how he knew the reason I had really gone berserk. 'Dah' was my revenge for Amelia, my anger for my father. He was right, of course. He had never spoke of it before, and never spoke of our father again. He was dead to us, and we just carried on.

We didn't see Sara for six days after that, and hardly did we see Molly. Of course Sara had been upset! God damn it, she had every right to be. It wasn't something one could laugh at like a young teenager's erection! I just wanted to see if she was all right. In the cellar, in the corner opposite the stairs, there was a hardly noticeable door, which behind it lay Sara's quarters. I approached it but had to duck behind a barrel of rum as Molly came out. She closed the door behind her and bustled up the stairs, meeting Hobbs at the top. They spoke for a while, and Molly said Sara was asleep. Their voices faded. I stayed still where I was, hardly breathing, even after the trapdoor was closed. For ten minutes I lay still and quiet, until I had to get up as the pins and needles in my legs were piercing. I crept to her door and pressed my ear to it. Then, guided by my urge to see if she was all right, I opened the door silently.

The moon is full tonight. The stream of stars in the sky that looks like a white river is exceptionally bright, and I'm in full skeletal form. I hate it. I'm a rotting corpse that has been decomposing for ages. There are no clouds in the sky and the stars are clear, as fire is bright. Huh. Neat little metaphor I just came up...Heh.

Sara was sitting up, propped up by four pillows. The candle in it's holder by her bed on her nightstand was alight and there was a small stick of incense by it that had clearly been burning for a long time before hand, as it was down to it's last centimeters. She looked up, startled, and her eyes went wide. She was scared of me, scared of what I had done and was capable of doing. I wasn't angry, just a bit hurt by it, but I understood. I understood her concern fully. She stared at me, standing in her doorway, for long, grueling minutes. Then, Sara relaxed. She settled herself back down and continued staring at me. At last, she opened her mouth to say something, yet hesitated. Then, at last, she smiled and patted the space on her bed beside her.

I have to pause in re-thinking my past. Mallot just dropped his hammer on his own foot and we heard a bone crack. Bloody heavy thing, I'd hate to get hit with it. Those who have have met most painful deaths. Broken skulls, that rusty nail pierces flesh as easily as my hatchet, and he knows how to use it to cause pain and not a fatality.

"Grapple, come over here. Close the door behind you, please. Oh, and lock it."

I grinned somewhat and liked how she referred to my name, not my Christian dubbing. I obliged her. Turning around, I shut the door quietly and flipped the key around in the lock. There was a small click and I turned back to her, satisfied the door was secure. Not quite wondering what we were going to do, but curious nonetheless how it would happen, I walked towards her and sat down. After a moment of silence, I took my belts off and removed my grapnel hook from over my chest. Placing them at the floor beside her bed along with my boots, I lay back and settled down, got comfortable.

"Thanks," she murmured after shuffling up beside me and resting her head on my bicep. She laid an arm over my chest and sighed with a shudder. I felt goose bumps rise on my skin; she felt a little cold. "For saving me, I mean," she said, even quieter then before.

"I can't...let anything happen." I swallowed a lump in my throat, my cheeks turning red. "To you, I mean." She looked up at me and I shut my eyes. After a moment, I still felt her eyes on me and opened my own, shifting my gaze at her. She wasn't smiling, but she wasn't angry. She had the twitching of a grin on her lips. I wanted to make her smile and laugh like she always did. She had a nice ring to her laugh; it always relaxed me up when I heard it. It was a tense moment just before I sat up a bit and raised her chin. But as we kissed for the very first time out of love, I found that uneasiness dissipated. She encouraged me by pushing forward, returning it. I couldn't hold back, I had finally been given a chance. As I turned her onto her back, kissing her lips, her nose, her cheeks, all over her face, and moved down to her neck, I felt her legs wrap around my back and the scratching noises of my harsh clothes against her smooth gown. I tugged my pants down to my knees and held her tightly. I didn't want to hurt her...we couldn't stop; we were caught up in the motion.

Ah, bloody Hell. Going over this almost makes me feel guilty. It wasn't my first time. Hell, I wasn't new with sex, but she was, I was positive. She was. I didn't want to hurt her. It always hurts girls for the first time, which probably is a major letdown for them. Ah, bloody Hell...

Somehow, all our clothes had come off during the coition. I don't even remember how my pants ended up where they did across the room, but I do recall throwing her gown in front of the door. It was...nice. I asked her if she wanted me to stop when she made quiet sounds of pain, but she told me to go on, which I did. She adjusted after a while; I guess when the hurting stopped. Sara was quiet that time, and fidgeted quite a bit. Kept asking me to "go slow". I did. Even after I climaxed I couldn't stop kissing her.

Afterwards, we just lay in each other's arms, half asleep and quiet with our own thoughts. My main attention was derived to praying to whatever divine entity was out there she didn't get pregnant. That would have been...not good, for starters. Of course, I don't think Hobbs would have let me live long enough to figure out what happened. Sara shifted against me and once again she felt cold, mismatched with her warm breath on my collarbone. I remember her trailing kisses along my skin, and falling asleep with the rhythm of her gentle breath on me.

I also remember waking up. Mallot had picked the lock, also bent on checking if Sara was okay. I heard the door open and looked up as the knob turned. He opened the door and saw us wrapped up within each other. I...honestly don't know how he first reacted, or wanted to react. He just stood there for the first five minutes starring at us. I stared back without saying a word. His expression changed quite a few times before he just put his hands behind his back and started grinding his teeth in that annoying way he still does to the day. He breathed out, relaxed, and left us be without a word, shutting the door behind him. I suppose he figured it would have happened. I don't know....

The next day, Sara and I went on as if nothing had happened between us. I found myself wondering if it indeed had, and it wasn't just some longing that had interrupted my dreams. Then again, I pondered whether or not she just wished it hadn't happened or hadn't been impressed. A group of French privateers came in, and I visibly twitched. I had a minor grudge against the French since they attempted to enslave me. Regardless, I served them their drinks and they stayed until late in the evening. Mallot kept a close eye on them and myself, probably fearing I might go berserk like I had on Collin and kill them or something. After they sparsed out (whether by going upstairs to fuck, passed out drunk, or simply leaving), Mallot and I settled down to relax for a bit and drink ourselves into some kind of coma. He was only fifteen but had a talent and stomach capable of drinking a Swedish man under the table. We weren't talking very much, the surprise of him seeing Sara and I together I guess a bit to odd for him. However, he turned to me after a while and asked, "Love 'er then?" I stared at my drink and remained silent. "I think y'eh do. Y'eh have f'er a long time, brother."

"Yah, suppose I have," I replied after a minute.

"Well?"

I looked up at him, not quite understanding. "Well wot?"

Mallot looked at me ludicrously. "Well do y'eh love 'er?"

"I..." I paused, then snorted and grinned a bit. "Yeah. I guess I love her."

"Hm," Mallot exclaimed simply and started drinking again. The night went on as usual then; we were both talking normally about the day's events, occasionally the attractive woman that came by was mentioned, what I had earned in a fight and other things that we figured important. Molly bustled by and forced some food down us, saying we should eat before and while drinking. I never argued; it was pointless to bicker with that woman. You would be arguing why you didn't need to eat while she'd be spooning soup in your mouth.

Around two in the morning, I was seriously sloshed and Mallot was near to passing out. Sara poked her head out of the cellar and spied me. Looking around herself, she crept towards me and whispered it was time for us to go to bed. I figured she meant Mallot and I as we were well watered and both teetering dangerously on our chairs, so I let her help me up and lead me away out the back where there was a small path that lead up to the barn doors. We opened them and I dragged myself towards the ladder and climbed it with grace for someone who was stumbling ever other step he took. However, I had done it many times before, and Sara was behind me (though I didn't register it). I crawled the remaining way to the hay-stuffed mattress I slept on and collapsed onto my back. Sara lay down beside me and pulled the single cover up.

Whether it was from the natural heat of the Caribbean, or our own heat combined with each other's and the blanket, I started taking my shirt off when Sara practically leapt on me and straddled my hips like I was one of the horses below. Next minute, we were roughly making love. It was sweaty, hot and if it weren't for the sex part, I'm sure we would have been uncomfortable. She couldn't walk quite right the next morning, for the record. I had a large hangover and whether it was the pain and she was being sympathetic or she was just content, she was very affectionate to me. Jonathan clued in quickly and kept making inferring jokes to let us know he knew what we had been up to. It went on for ages, because Sara and I...we woke up beside each other a lot after that.

Turns out she was a wildcat in the sack. I had to admit; it took me completely by surprise the first few times. She always seemed a little more timid then she really was. I guess it was simply how we went about it. After the fifth time with her, it became apparent that the location didn't matter either, though Molly was curious as to how we had both acquired hay over ourselves.

The Captain's come on deck, wanting to know what the commotion was. Mallot's explaining how the beard had caused more trouble then it was worth. Barbossa is giving me a glare because he just saw Jacoby sprawled out on the other side of the ship. Hector's warning me now that if Jacoby's mates find out (which I'll make sure they don't) I may find myself in a bit of trouble. Of course he's not too concerned, he knows I take care of myself. He's going back to his cabin and Mallot is trying not to laugh. Stupid idiot... Heh.