A/N: I can't believe I got this chapter up on time! I thought going away for the weekend would knock my schedule right out.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed! 200+ reviews, I can't believe it! I really appreciate them all (yes, even the death threats ;D). I hope you enjoy this chapter...


Chapter 23: A friend in need

Horror gripped Jack so tightly that he actually gasped as the wretched emotion stole his breath away. He forgot all about Nathan standing on the bank, he forgot about the Pearl though he was standing on her, he forgot about the crew, he forgot himself. There was nothing more important than getting to Sylvia and nothing could have stopped him from doing just that. He tore down to the lower deck with his heart and mind screaming. The sound of more gun shots dully entered his consciousness but they meant nothing to him, he did not even know who was shooting at whom any more. As he turned the corner to where he knew Sylvia would be, he found that he was still clutching at hope. He was hoping to see that Sylvia had not been hurt at all, that she was standing with a scared look on her face her eyes on the place in the wood where the bullet had hit mere inches from her. There was a woman standing there and for a wild instant Jack was convinced that his hope had not been in vain. But it was not Sylvia, it was AnaMaria, her hat back on her head over her loose hair. She was looking down at the person at her feet without a single trace of compassion or even concern. Jack did not pay her a single second's attention after his reeling mind had correctly identified her. Instead he looked downwards and saw Sylvia, his Sylvia.

She was lying in the tangled way people do when they faint. It might have looked like she had simply passed out for some reason if there had not been blood spreading across her side. Jack was on his knees beside her, almost on top of her. His breath was coming in panicked gasps which he was quite unable to control. He touched the damp patch on Sylvia's dress and looked at his fingers. Her blood looked so bright, so vivid. He did not remember seeing a more frightening sight than that. The bullet had hit her somewhere in the side, but the damage was hard to ascertain. Jack was only thinking of one thing, he wanted to see Sylvia's eyes open.

"Come on luv," he said pleadingly completely oblivious to the fact that AnaMaria was still watching him from very close proximity, "Open yer eyes." He tried to say something else but there was something in his throat that was making speech impossible. AnaMaria watched him run his hand down Sylvia's pale, rich lady's face. There was something about the way Jack had stopped talking, the way he was breathing, the way he was holding the stranger's body that made AnaMaria feel alternately guilty and alarmed. This was not the way her Captain behaved, he seemed to have forgotten what to do in an emergency. This was not the way he would have acted if it had been she, AnaMaria, lying on the deck bleeding instead of this stranger. Her eyes widened to their fullest extent when she saw Jack's shoulders shake. Was he crying! No, it wasn't possible. AnaMaria turned away before her own feelings awakened. She had never and would never cry, not for anyone! But she could hear her Captain's distress as clearly as if he had been screaming and it was tearing at her strongly, perhaps because she was partially to blame. She told herself it had been the right thing to do but that did not change the fact that Jack was still on the deck a mere metre from her, his heart breaking.

"Wake up Sylvia. Wake up." AnaMaria's heart gave a terrible tremble and she took a step forwards meaning to get away as far as she could when a different sound made her stop. It was a soft moan. She turned sharply in time to see Sylvia's eyes open. She forgot every feeling of regret she had been experiencing and stalked away.

Jack could have laughed with relief but this giddy feeling evaporated as soon as Sylvia's face screwed up in pain. She turned even paler and Jack thought she was going to pass out again but her eyes opened once more and looked up at his desperately. She wanted him to make her pain go away but Jack had absolutely no idea what to do. This wasn't one of his crew or even himself; this was Sylvia, delicate Sylvia. She wasn't supposed to get hurt.

"Jack…" Sylvia's voice was strained and very quiet. She was imploring him to speak, to tell her what was wrong, to give her an explanation. Jack swallowed.

"You're alright luv," he said with as much sincerity as he could muster, "Yer going to be alright." Jack could not tell whether she believed him or even whether she was listening to him. Her eyes were flickering and there were beads of perspiration appearing on her forehead.

"Cap'n! What happened!" Gibbs was charging down the deck which could mean only one thing, they were out of range of the marine guns. Gibbs came to a stop and looked down at Sylvia his eyes wide.

"Mary mother of god," he said under his breath and out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw him cross himself. This movement caused such an intense burst of irritation in Jack that he shouted, "Don't jus' stand there!" Gibbs jumped backwards away from the heat of Jack's eyes which were burning fiercely. Jack looked away from him and saw that his voice had startled Sylvia too. She was now looking up at him her own eyes full of fear. Jack's irritation died at once.

"Am I going to die Jack?" She asked the question so calmly that Jack was not sure he had heard her correctly.

"No," he said forcefully, "Yer not going t' die. I wouldn't let you, savvy?" To Jack's surprise Sylvia smiled, a very small smile.

"I love you." Jack's lungs tightened so powerfully that he winced.

"Don't you be saying yer goodbyes," he said quickly, "I won't have it." The small smile remained on Sylvia's lips even as she closed her eyes. Jack watched her leave him and suddenly knew what he had to do like a switch had been flicked on in his brain. In one movement he picked Sylvia up off the deck floor. She gave a small cry of pain but other than that remained silent all the way to Jack's cabin.

"Wha' are ye doing?" Gibbs turned to see AnaMaria watching him. He turned away again and continued to fill a bucket with water.

"Tha' bullet's going t' have t' come out," he said by way of explanation.

"Why bother?" AnaMaria asked as she came closer, "She's never going t' survive." Gibbs felt an uncomfortable prickle on the back of his neck.

"Cap'n says no organs were hit, he says she'll be ok if the bullet comes out." Gibbs recited Jack's words and tried not to remember the way Jack had looked when he had said them, like a man on the edge of his reason.

"She's not made of the stuff that we are," said AnaMaria, "She's never had to fight like we do, not for anything, let alone her life." Gibbs didn't like AnaMaria's tone, she sounded almost hopeful, she wanted him to believe her but he wouldn't, not when Jack had told him differently.

"She's a strong lass," he said firmly, "And if Cap'n says…" AnaMaria cut him off.

"Do ye really think she's going t' want t' live here even if she does survive?" she asked, "Do ye really think she can trade in one life for the other?" Gibbs fell silent, his eyes low.

"Ye know as well as I do Jack couldn't do it for her." She took a step away from him. "She's too good for him, jus' try and deny it." Gibbs was immensely grateful that AnaMaria left before he had to try.

Sylvia could feel the beads of sweat on her forehead more clearly than she could feel her legs. She could hear her own breathing but the sound of other people talking was distorted so much that she could not make out the words. She didn't remember anything that had happened before this moment, it was like she had been born into this haze of pain. Someone laid a hand on her forehead and for a moment her head cleared and she could hear a voice she recognised and loved. Jack was right beside her, he was looking after her. The hand was removed and her thoughts became fuzzy again but the knowledge that Jack was there remained like a beacon of hope in a stormy sea.

The bullet had entered just above Sylvia's right hip and despite what he had told Gibbs, Jack had no way of knowing whether it had hit anything but muscle or not. There was a lot of blood, which was a fact that escaped no one's attention. A scarlet trail of it ran from the place Sylvia had fallen to the cabin in which she was now lying. There was a cloth pressed against the wound now but still more blood came. The sight of his own blood had never alarmed Jack as much as this scene did. His mind was full of worst case scenarios. What if it never stopped? What if he couldn't get the bullet out? What if it had hit something important? What if she never…? Gibbs opened the door to the cabin in time to cut that thought short. He took one look at Jack and rushed to his side. He had never seen him look so afraid.

"She's looking a bit better," Gibbs lied. Sylvia looked terrible. Jack gave his first mate a very dry look but said nothing. He knelt down and gently stroked Sylvia's limp hand. She made no movement or sound.

"Time to get the bullet out," he said in a resigned tone. He looked behind him and saw that Gibbs had brought the water he had requested. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Jack removed the makeshift bandage which was completely soaked with blood. He pulled a knife from his boot and, after the briefest of pauses, he plunged it into the hole the bullet had created. By the lack of screaming it was evident that Sylvia was completely unconscious and could not feel a thing. Jack, who had waited for any reaction from Sylvia, continued with his grim and bloody task. In a way he wished that Sylvia had reacted in some way, the way she was lying there without the slightest movement was unnerving. He hated the way he was making her bleed even more but he had to get the bullet out, he just had to. The tip of his knife hit something hard and Jack knew he had found it. Hooking it out proved tricky but eventually Jack had the bloodied bullet in his stained hand. Gibbs cleared his throat and Jack thought he was going to say something but he did not. Jack threw the bullet on the floor not bothering to watch where it rolled to. He grabbed a clean cloth and pressed it to Sylvia's side which was still pouring with blood. Gibbs backed out of the room; he suddenly had the feeling that he was no longer needed.

Jack sunk to the floor and rested his forehead against Sylvia's cool hand which was hanging off the bed. He stayed like that for a very long time and no one disturbed him.

"Send a message out to all nearby ports. I want that bastard stopped."

"What should the message say, sir?" Gregory wasn't used to this. He had only joined the marines a few days ago and he certainly had not expected to be a messenger boy but the sight of the irate man before him quelled any complaints he might have been tempted to voice. Captain Nathan Spencer looked like he might bite his head right off his shoulders.

"What should the message say!" he repeated disbelievingly, "It should say that some bloody pirate has kidnapped my wife!" Gregory winced as flecks of Nathan's spit peppered his young face but he dared not anger the man further by wiping them away. Nathan obviously expected Gregory to leave because he turned away and began filling a glass with something from the cabinet on the wall.

"Er…sir….should I…should I include the part about your wife being…?" Nathan rounded on him.

"My wife being what?" he asked and Gregory suddenly understood. He swallowed and backed out of the room muttering apologies as he did so. Nathan watched him leave and then turned back to his drink which he downed in one go. The liquid burned the back of his throat and tasted foul but he poured himself another large glass all the same. He may have stopped his wife from escaping but he was not going to let a pirate get away with embarrassing him. He was a god damn gentleman for Christ's sake! He jerked the glass upwards and emptied its contents into his mouth before he threw the glass against the wall where it smashed into a thousand pieces.

Jack stepped outside his cabin for a moment. He leant against the door and closed his eyes. It didn't seem real that a few hours earlier he had promised to keep Sylvia safe, a promise that now lay shattered beyond repair. He could barely remember what it had felt like to be so gloriously happy that he would make promises like that. Happiness seemed so very far away now that Sylvia was lying motionless on the other side of the wood behind him. He had told her to go down to his cabin, he had tried to protect her but he had assumed she had followed his instructions rather than made sure she did so. He had assumed she was alright while he engaged in his little game with Nathan. He had never dreamed she would be in any danger. Soft footsteps made him open his eyes reluctantly. There was only one person on the ship who walked like that, AnaMaria. Jack closed his eyes again as she rounded the corner.

"Cap'n?" Jack did not speak. He was hoping she would just go away but she did not, instead she remained on the spot watching him with those dark eyes of hers.

"Is she alright?" Jack did not notice the stress AnaMaria put on the 'she' and he failed to wonder why she had not just used Sylvia's name. What he did realise was that AnaMaria was not just going to go away like he had hoped.

"Aye," he said quietly but the moment the word was out of his mouth he took it back.

"Of course she's not alright," he said sounding cross with himself, "How could she be alright?"

"It wasn't yer fault." Jack opened his eyes again; he had not expected AnaMaria to say anything like that. She was walking towards him very slowly. There was a peculiar light in her eyes that was vaguely familiar. Jack began to feel uneasy as AnaMaria got closer.

"It wasn't yer fault," she repeated presumably because Jack had not responded the first time. There something about her face that was not quite right, something Jack could not place until she was even closer then he saw it; there was a very small smile on her lips. A terrible thought struck him like lightening and sent a shockwave right through his body. It wasn't his fault. AnaMaria gasped as Jack grabbed her wrist and swung her round. She grimaced as her back hit the door Jack had been leaning against a second earlier. Jack held her arm high above her head with one hand, in the other he held a knife which he had whipped from his belt and he brought the weapon up so that it touched the fragile skin of AnaMaria's neck. Anyone else would have pretended, they would have screamed or pleaded for a reason for Jack's behaviour but AnaMaria, after recovering from the initial shock, merely stared back at him fiercely.

"How do you know it wasn't my fault?" Jack asked savagely. AnaMaria let out a faint hiss as the blade pressed harder against her neck but she did not answer. She knew what he was talking about; she did not look confused or scared. She knew. Suddenly revolted Jack released her and stepped backwards. AnaMaria did not move except to lower her arm. She kept her eyes on him and Jack thought it was like looking at a completely different person to the one he knew. He slipped the knife back into his belt and saw AnaMaria's hand drop back to her side, it had been on the way to grab her own blade.

"You willingly endangered a member of the crew." Jack was suddenly business like as if he could not bring himself to talk to her like he once had, like a friend.

"She was not a member of the crew," AnaMaria spat with unmistakeable ferocity. Her eyes were shining like a wild cat's and her claws were out. "She had no right to put you in danger."

"What did you say to her?" asked Jack his own eyes blazing. He was beginning to picture the scene. Sylvia, hovering between diving for safety and a desperate longing to know he was alright, AnaMaria, in the right place to push her one way or the other with a desire to cause the other woman harm but why? And how?

"I only told her the truth." AnaMaria's chest was heaving like she had just run very fast. This was her final stand, her only chance. "That bastard husband of hers might have shot you instead of her." Jack's jaw clenched.

"Do you want me t' thank you?" he asked, "I didn't need your help." A strange cloud descended over AnaMaria's face and the look in her eyes changed.

"No," she said softly, "You've never needed me." And Jack understood. Several feelings converged and mixed together until only the strongest remained. When he spoke his voice was clipped and so cold it made AnaMaria's heart freeze.

"As soon as we pull into the next port you are no longer part of me crew. From then until now if I so much as see you I'll shoot ye on site, savvy?" She stood as proud and as strong as ever but something had changed the moment Jack's words had left his mouth. He had crushed her. She did not say anything as she turned away but Jack could see the tears that she never cried were already leaking from her eyes.

"Cap'n? I was wonderin' if you wanted to set a course for somewhere." Gibbs stood awkwardly in the doorway. It had plainly taken him a little while to work up the nerve to interrupt Jack again and he was still unsure whether it had been the right course of action to take. The problem was they could not keep drifting aimlessly about, not unless that was what Jack wanted of course. Jack, who was watching Sylvia, sighed heavily. He had not thought about where they were going to go. All those sorts of decisions had been wiped away in one foul swoop by Nathan's pistol and his one accurate shot. He could not remember where he had been planning to sail to, or why he had been planning to sail there. Sylvia needed help, she needed a doctor but where could he go that wouldn't land them both in prison or worse? The solution came to him like an epiphany.

"Will…," he said softly and then to Gibbs, "Take us to Port Royal."

Commodore Norrington had just supervised a full cleaning of the fort. It had taken the best part of a week but as he looked out now he was more than satisfied with the results. Governor Swann had passed on his compliments earlier and Norrington doubted whether there was a more proud man in the whole of Port Royal than himself. It was a beautiful evening and he was quite sure that nothing was going to be able to wipe the smile from his face. This, of course, turned out to be quite wrong.

"Commodore?" Norrington turned and saw Gillette was standing a little way off. In the fading light Norrington could not help thinking that Gillette looked even more fish like than usual as his features became less clearly defined.

"Yes," he said politely. Gillette cleared his throat in an effort to sound more important than his rank. Norrington suppressed a sigh. He wished they did not have to go through this pantomime every time Gillette delivered a message.

"I have just received word from a Captain Spencer, sir." Norrington tried to place the name. It rang a small bell in his mind but he could not quite place it, he thought that perhaps he had heard the name in conversation once before, he certainly had not met the man.

"Yes, and what does this Captain Spencer require?" He looked out to sea as he spoke. The sunset was going to be a beautiful one; he considered asking Gillette to leave him until it was over but decided against it.

"Apparently, his wife has been kidnapped, sir." Norrington turned away from the setting sun which was just beginning to colour the water gold.

"Kidnapped?" he asked with a frown. What a dreadful business. Still, he wondered what it had to do with him as he was sure this Captain Spencer did not reside in Port Royal.

"He says, sir," said Gillette in his most pretentious voice, "That his wife has been kidnapped by none other than Captain Jack Sparrow." The smug look on Gillette's face said it all. It was common, if unspoken, knowledge that Commodore Norrington turned a blind eye to the Black Pearl's infrequent comings and goings. As long as the Pearl kept out of sight and its crew out of trouble, Norrington had allowed Jack Sparrow to do as he pleased. But this news meant all that had to change. Norrington gave Gillette orders to report the presence of the Pearl or her crew at once before dismissing him. He turned back to watch the sunset but could not concentrate on it any more. He would never have claimed to know or understand the eccentric Sparrow and he knew that the man had done some bizarre and terrible things in his time, but kidnapping another man's wife? It didn't seem like Jack somehow but Norrington knew he could not risk ignoring Captain Spencer's message. If Jack really had kidnapped Mrs Spencer, he had no choice. The moment Jack Sparrow set foot in Port Royal; Commodore Norrington would have to have him arrested.


A/N: I think it's time for some dramatic music...;)

I hope everyone's been having a great week, mine has gone so fast! I should be able to get the next chapter up next week, sound good:)