Hey everyone! Sorry for the wait! Anyway, I hope you all liked it!

I don't own POTC…I wish!

Chapter Nine

Little Liddy's Squeaky Voice

The Pearl floated in the residual calm after the storm. The waves had calmed and now quiet grief hung thick in the air. Anamaria was silent and staring, steering the ship around the far end of the small island they had strayed on the edge of the night before. Her heart was visibly torn in two and she couldn't help the tears that formed in her eyes.

Marty had taken Victoria below deck hours ago, the woman's loud wails of grief over powering the singing of the surf. Now the deck was quiet as the grave. Their captain was gone and they were alone…she was alone.

The night before had left her numb but she could still feel the deep panic as she had raced along the railing, staring into the gray, swirling water below, wincing as Jack was slammed against the hull…and then he was gone, swept away by the waves that last night had been so hungry for pirate flesh. Blinking she turned away, Jack's dead. The words made her stomach swoop and her heart clench. It was impossible to believe the sea had betrayed him and her. The sea, their home, Jack's mistress…

Gibbs came to her slowly, his eyes rimmed with red from lack of sleep, his face pale from grief. How many years had he known Jack? How many late nights had they stayed up under the starlight, talking, laughing and drinking. Now those nights would never come again. She'd lost him once already and such grief had been nearly unbearable. Now it was starting all over again.

"How are you doing, lass?" Gibbs asked quietly. Anamaria didn't even blink, her gaze fixed on the rising and falling horizon. "Mrs. Williams is below, her poor little girl." He trailed off, staring at the deck. "The men are demanding a funeral service."

"We'll be in Port Royal tomorrow." Anamaria said softly, blinking away the stinging in her eyes. She wished nothing more then for Gibbs to leave her, but he didn't.

"You should go rest, miss." Gibbs said, trying to take the wheel. Anamaria pushed him away and shook her head. Her sleeping place was beside Jack, in the Captain's cabin, in his bed. The room reeked of him; in a soft and warming way…she could never go there. She'd die of exhaustion before desecrating his memory.

"I'll be fine, Gibbs. Leave, go do something." He opened his mouth but she stopped him. "Leave before I stick something in your mouth." He eyed her sword and then walked away, allowing her to drown in her grief.

William Turner pulled open his shop door a little harder then he had intended. Calming himself, he pulled in a deep breath, closed his eyes and leaned against the doorframe. Splinters of old wood poked his shoulder but it felt oddly calming today, like pain could cut away at the jealousy that he felt inside.

Oh, James Norrington was good! A gentleman to a fault? Hardly. Will opened his eyes and entered the cool safety of his shop. Usually so stuffy and warm, today it was cold and almost forbidding, as though better times had been seen in here. His eyes moved around the room and found the small bench beside the fire pit. He and Elizabeth had spent so many nights on that bench, talking and laughing…

Will closed the door and rushed to the furnace. He had to find a way to keep himself occupied. It would not do well to go back to the house and kill a Commodore of the Royal Navy. He was sure that not many people, including his wife, would be very happy about it.

Stoking the fire, he began gathering gear together. A large order had come in from the fort for horseshoes, such an order demanding his attention for the next few days. His mind began to wander as he worked; occasionally passing over what he envisioned Norrington and Elizabeth were doing at that very moment. Ruth was at a friend's house, he was glad for that. The less time she spent with that pompous…

"Ouch!" Will yelled as his hammer made contact with three of his fingers. Sticking the throbbing digits in his mouth, he tried to ease the pain while absorbing the taste of metal work.

"You may want to be careful." A voice said behind him. Will whipped around and backed into the stone behind him, heat rising up his back as the fire heat pressed against him. There was a man in the doorway, shrouded in black. The afternoon light illuminated his black cloak from behind and obscured his face completely. Will reached out; trying to grasp a nearby work in progress sword but the man's arm extended and pointed a gun at him. Will stopped. "Like your father, aren't you?" The man was sneering.

"Who are you?" Will asked, his voice more tense then he had intended it to be. The man was so still, his arm so steady, he could have been made of stone. Will lowered his arm and decided to play along. If absolute need arose, he would make another reach for the sword.

"You don't recognize me?" Will frowned and listened closer to the voice. It sounded familiar but he couldn't place it. "Jack is heading this way and I have a message for you to give him." Will shook his head and the man advanced a few steps. "Or your beautiful little daughter, Ruth, will be forfeit."

Will's heart clenched and he lunged for the sword. Before he could reach it, however, a knife buried itself in the wood shelf beside his hand. Will cried out in shock and pulled away, stumbling for a second over a few tools that fell as he wheeled. When he turned back to the stranger, the man was still in the doorway.

He threw a wadded up ball of paper onto the shop's dusty floor. "That is for Jack, with this message: I'm watching." Will felt anger bubble in his stomach for a moment but it subsided when the man laughed. "Goodbye William Turner, we shall meet again." And the man was gone. Will grabbed his sword and rushed to the doorway. The man was gone, only throngs of shoppers and navy could be seen.

The paper was balled into a tight wad but with careful ease he managed to unwrap it. There was only one thing on its faded yellow surface…a large black dot.

The crew of the Black Pearl stood in absolute silence. Port Royal was over the hills, hidden from their view. Jack had long ago found this secret hiding spot, large enough and secluded enough to divert the watchful eye of James Norrington. Anamaria let her eyes wander across the deck, stopping on no one man, past the burning lanterns hanging from the rigging, and across the black ocean to the island. Dark trees swayed in the light wind and waves lapped the boulders along the rocky beach.

"…Forever." Gibbs finished, his voice weak and strained as though he were about to break down. Anamaria bowed her head with the rest of the men and tried to block out the sound of Marty sniffing beside her. "Would anyone else like to say a few words?"

Anamaria looked up at the old man and glared. How could she dredge up words for the man she loved? Gibbs watched her, his face thrown into sharp relief by the candlelight. He looked so much more worn then she had seen him earlier that day. No one said a thing and the silence seemed to drag on for hours. Finally, Gibbs made a strange guttural sound so Anamaria took it into her own hands.

"Drinks all around!" She cried, her voice stronger then she had thought it would be. The men looked up at her in surprise but she had long ago lost any embarrassment around them. "Drinks all around in honor of Jack!" Gibbs smiled at her and began passing out the cups.

In a few hours the men were seated, drinking until they dropped. One of the men had begun a story telling ring and now they all laughed at the exploits of the man they had grown to love.

"I wasn't sure exactly what he was doing," Montroy laughed, his eyes in his cup. "But he suddenly slipped off the side of the pier and into the water." The men laughed harder, some remembering the night in Tortuga very well, others imagining what had happened. They all sat in silence for a moment, lost in their thoughts.

"Did I ever mention the time Jack…"

Pulling into the Port Royal bay, the Manacled Queen, under the captaincy of Harry Brown was solemn and quiet. All men were focused on the job at hand, getting in close to Port Royal. Although they were a pirate ship, they had never gained the fame that the Black Pearl had, nor any other famous Pirate ship. It brought no good, for all the legendary captains seemed to die a gruesome death. All the men dared not say anything to their captain at the moment, however, for he seemed to be worried beyond comprehension.

Harry Brown paced the deck, his eyes on the port town while his mind wandered to his cabin. That little girl had refused to leave, not even when he had offered her food on the deck. She seemed to be attached to Jack, refusing to leave him. It was probably fear and the need for a familiar face that kept her there…he'd never known Jack to like kids.

"We'll need to re-supply and head out immediately, captain." Froshier said quietly, watching the shore with a little bit of fear. No one liked being so close to that ponce, Norrington. Legends were spreading that one look from the man could find you magically on the gallows with your feet kicking a second later. Harry Brown sighed and nodded. In and out was the plan.

Jack Sparrow was still asleep, his bare chest rising and falling slowly. He looked so peaceful, almost dead, that the little girl sitting beside him, humming, couldn't bring herself to wake him.

Her young mind still couldn't grasp exactly what had happened. He hated her, something she felt saddened by. He had also saved her, something confusing in itself. Her memories of waking up, wet and cold with a man bending over her, calling to her still frightened her. She had been terrified until she'd seen Jack lying next to her, cold and pale…unmoving.

She'd only seen one dead person in her whole life, her friend. She'd died of brain fever a few months before, and Lydia still missed her terribly but it came to her in dreams, something she couldn't black out.

Now Jack was fine, alive but asleep. Lydia reached out a small hand and touched one of the two braids on his chin. He didn't move as her hand trailed over the rough hair and spun the bead around at the base.

Then her hand began to move again, over the trinkets in his black hair. There were braids here too, and dreadlocks which she tugged lightly on. He still didn't move. Biting her lip, she continued, moving her small face right in close to examine some of the pictures on the beads.

With her index finger, she began to poke and prod at the bullet holes on his chest until his gruff voice spoke, making her jump in alarm. "You better be a gorgeous woman."

Lydia giggled and Jack opened his eyes. For a moment, he blinked, trying to pull the room around him and her small little face into focus. She was disheveled and salty flakes were still matted to her cheek but other wise she was unhurt. Him, on the other hand…

"We're still alive?" He asked, blinking and bringing a hand to his aching head. Lydia laughed again which sent a stab of pain through his forehead. "Please, quiet."

"I had breakfast." Lydia said, smiling at him. Jack didn't return her show of happiness but glared at her as if she was some thing on the bottom of the ocean. "There are really nice men aboard here. The Captain is nicer then you."

Jack sat up slowly and shook his dark hair from his face, choosing to reply when he felt the need. "The captain is nicer then me probably because he's a…"

"Now, do you really want to finish that sentence, Sparrow?" A deep voice from the doorway asked. Jack turned his head so sharply his head swam and he had to lay back down to get his bearings. Harry Brown, a face he hadn't set eyes on in years, was standing in the doorway, smiling at him with a tankard in his hands. "Long time no see."

"Not long enough." Jack growled. "Is that for me?" Harry held up the tankard and came over to his friend, sitting down beside Lydia. He handed Jack the tankard who in turn drank the water inside with one long gulp.

"Thirsty?" Harry smirked. "Where's your ship?" Jack closed his eyes and tried to focus. Where was his ship?

"I don't know. Maybe I flew out here." He answered. Lydia giggled and played with the comforter that covered him, tracing the red swirl pattern in it's depths.

"Maybe. You always were a little light on you're…" Jack smiled.

"Do you really want to finish that sentence, Brown?" He asked. Harry laughed and picked up his shirt off the floor. It was still damp and crusty from the salt water.

"Dress and we'll find your wings." With that, he took hold of Liddy's little hand and tried to lead her from the room. The little girl wouldn't budge, though.

"No, I want to stay with Jack…" Jack cringed. Her squeaky voice was making his head pound harder.

"No, leave!" Jack hissed, closing his eyes to block out the moonlight all around him. "Go eat something." Even the thought of food made Jack's stomach turn.

"Yes, come on Liddy." Harry soothing voice said. "We have to get you some supper and my men are going into town for supplies. Then we're going to find you're mother…besides, Jack's not wearing anything."

Jack's eyes snapped open and he turned his head to watch the two depart. He'd lost his pants many times but…Harry peaked his head back in. "Hurry up, Sparrow, let's go!" Just like old times. Harry laughed and closed the door.

Jack sighed and grabbed the pillow behind him, lifted it to his face and screamed into it in frustration. Why did everything have to happen to him?

To my reviewers:

blackmagic365: lol, well, I'm glad you're still reading my little story. I have a lot of material to get through!

forceflow46: Ok, thanks. Well, I'll try with the email again, I saw it didn't work last time with Ghost Ship, so we'll see.

Madmaz: Hi! I'm glad you like it and I'm sorry about the whole cliffhanger thing…one thing though, I do it a lot so I'll apologize now. LoL. Thanks for the reviews!

AND TO ANYONE I MAY HAVE MISSED OR WHO ISN'T REVIEWING, THANK YOU TOO!