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Chapter Quote: "There was a pirate attack on one of our ships coming into harbor."

Chapter Eleven

A Long Forgotten Past

Tom paced as he spoke to Will, the tension which had been mounting in him the moment he had heard of his bother keeping him unable to stay in one position for an extended period of time. "Me and Ben lived in Ireland with my parents in the beginning. It was a good life, we had a good farm, good land. We weren't too fond of the English, but we were happy."

"You are a native Irishmen?" Will asked in surprise, his dark eyes widening slightly with this new information.

Tom stopped momentarily to glance at him. "Yes." He said in puzzlement, "You couldn't tell?"

"You don't have an accent anymore." Will pointed out.

"That's because most folks wouldn't go hiring an Irish lad when they could help it. But that was later on." Tom here resumed his pacing. "My Da died of a heart attack when I was eleven years old, Ben was nine. My Ma took it hard." He paused, reliving past memories. "She didn't survive the winter, and by then, there was no family to keep me and Ben together. He was shipped off to the Navy it seemed like the best choice for him, seeing as he always had an interest in becoming a sailor. And I ran off to England and dabbled in horse racing."

"You shipped your nine year old brother off to the Navy?"

Tom paused, "Well...he didn't want to go. He wanted us to stay together...ya know? Said that's what our parents would have wanted." Tom shifted uncomfortably. "But I thought we'd do better if we were on our own. So...I left him there."

"You left him?"

Tom shrugged helplessly. "My Da had been friends with an officer who used to drink with him at the local pub. He took Ben on as a cabin boy." He met Will's inquiring eyes and he raised his hands in self-defense. "I didn't say it was the right thing, but it seemed like the only option I had. By the time I had turned sixteen, I was in London. My employer had been booted off the tracks for foul-play and I was jobless. I stowed away on a sloop headed for Port Royal. Halfway along...he found me."

"I'll bet that was pleasant." Will commented wryly.

"I've been through few things worse then that moment...but I was proud of him. He looked so fancied up in his uniform, all clean. He was a Midshipman by then." Tom stopped, smiling proudly with a faraway look in his eyes. "He just...sort of stared at me. We didn't say anything for a minute or so...then he cleared his throat and quite calmly said, 'All stowaways are to be brought immediately to the Captain.' I nodded, getting my things together, I started to rise but he pushed me back down, glanced both ways and whispered. 'But you're not a stowaway, you're my brother.' When the ship docked in Port Royal, he helped me get off without being seen. He stood on the dock with me for a few moments, and we just stood, staring at each other.

" 'You've done good for yourself Ben.' I said, he just looked and me and then answered, 'Don't you ever leave me like that again.' He had a hard glint in his eyes, and a look of disappointment that I've never been able to forget. I told him how sorry I was, how I thought it was the only way we could of survived. I stumbled through the words, trying to get him to understand that I had done it for him. Then he hugged me and said he'd write me soon...then he was gone."

Tom turned back to Will, "That was the last time I saw him, it was almost seven years ago. We wrote each other some and that's how I found out about his ship. He told me he'd be docking here, we were going to meet on some of his time off."

Will nodded with understanding, "Then his ship was attacked by pirates."

Tom nodded, "Now I'm here. I don't know how he is, or even what he looks like. He's got to be nearly twenty now." Will nodded, and opened his mouth to speak when they suddenly heard footsteps approaching from inside.

The nurse appeared at the door, she turned to Tom. "If you'll follow me, gentlemen, the doctor will see you now."

Stephen didn't return till morning. I was exhausted, and had spent most of the night staying up with Laura, who's sleep was frequented by nightmares that caused her to squirm and to cry out. The sun rose that morning with such brightness that I found myself cursing it as I stirred from my position by the window once more. Every bone in my body ached, every muscle cramped, and every limb protested as I rose and tried in vain to stretch.

And that's when Stephen came home. His sudden appearance in the room startled me, and it took me a few moments to regain my composure after my emerald eyes swept over his thin frame. His clothes were rumpled, he carried the jacket he had worn the previous day, now wearing a white, blousey shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Only the shirt was stained with a dark substance that I knew instantly to be blood. His eyes were blood-shot and his face haggard. I caught my breath and took a hesitant step toward him.

"Stephen...what happened?" I asked in astonishment, unsure of what to do.

"There was a pirate attack on one of our ships coming into harbor." He asked, his voice hoarse and guttural.

I flinched as he said 'pirate'. Me. I would probably be out there now if I had listened to Jack's stupid advice to return. Ah...there I was blaming people again when I knew full well that the only person I could blame was myself.

"...half the crew was put out of action, a quarter were killed. The few that are left on board are still trying to keep the damn thing afloat." He shook his head, his unruly, red locks falling into his face. "I've been at the naval hospital all night...the irony in that fact is almost amusing." He laughed hoarsely.

"Why? What's the irony?" I asked in confusion, trying to erase the guilt from my mind. Could he read my emotions? Was he looking at me funny? Merlin's Beard...he couldn't know what I had done...could he? After all, I didn't have a ship right now, therefore, I wasn't a pirate. And if I wasn't a pirate, then that meant that the attack hadn't been my fault...right?

Stephen shook his head, dismissing my questions. He nodded towards Laura, stepping into the room and closing the door. "How is she? Did she wake up at all?"

"Yes." I answered, following him as he neared the table upon which she was laid. Her breathing had regulated, but her body, painfully thin, still shook with the fatigue of fever. Her arm, heavily bandaged, had been changed by myself a short while ago. I breathed with relief as I saw that her blood had not seeped through. Perhaps Stephen had stopped the bleeding...?

"When was her wound last attended to?" He asked, throwing his jacket on a nearby chair.

"Just before you came home. She tossed with fever all night...her name is Laura." He glanced at me in surprise.

"Indeed? How did you treat her?"

"I tried to keep her fever down with cold compresses...and cleaned the wound and bandaged it thrice between our last meeting and now."

He nodded, "Well done." He laid his hand on the girl's forehead, she shuddered under his touch, and then laid still. "Her fever has gone down." He said under his breath. He ran his hand over his face and shook his head once more, blinking as he did so.

I placed my hand on his arm to halt his movements. "Get some rest Stephen...you've been working all night."

He glanced back at me, "I'm expected back there by mid afternoon...I should attend her now while I have the time."

"It's not yet reached nine Stephen...take a break. I'll wake you before and give you time to attend to her."

He looked at me skeptically with every intention of turning back to his work. I sighed in exasperation. "Why is it that doctors feel they must murder themselves before they'll listen to anyone? I can watch her, and she can wait. She's getting better...you said so yourself. Just take a little break...all right?"

He paused, thinking, before a shadow of a smile swept over his face. "You were a stranger a few days ago. How is it that you have come to know me so well in so short a time?"

I didn't know the answer to that. I had guessed...had spent the last five years of my life guessing. It was becoming habitual. I smiled gently, "I'm just full of surprises." I answered. "Go on, I'll take over from here."

The Previous Day

"He's unconscious at the present time gentlemen, we just finished operating." Said the doctor as Tom and Will approached. Tom's face was stricken with worry as he cleared his throat and spoke very slow and calmly in an effort to control his voice.

"May I just see him? He's my brother."

The doctor, a middle-aged, red-haired man, surveyed Tom with sympathetic, dark eyes. He watched him for a moment before nodding towards the room behind him. "Go on in." He said gently. "But he won't come around till late tomorrow at least."

Whether it was some misplaced pity or some twisted understanding, Tom couldn't decide. Nor did he much care as he said a hurried thanks to the doctor and hastened inside the room the doctor had gestured to. The light from the window was dimming with the setting sun. But the glowing candles cast a soft light upon the limp figure of his brother.

Ben's arm was heavily bandaged as well as a part of upper chest. His face, though naturally tan from his lifestyle at sea, was pale in contrast. His hair hung in sweaty locks around his face, and his skin had a lite sheen of sweat. Tom approached him slowly, reaching out his hand to cautiously caress his younger brother's face. He smiled sadly,

"We've seen better times, haven't we Ben?" But the young man stretched out on the table gave no answer.

"He took a bullet in the right shoulder, and another closer to his heart- just missed it by a hair's breath." Said the doctor, reentering the room and standing just to the left of Tom. Tom turned to gaze back at him, but the doctor's eyes were fixed in concentration upon Ben. There were lines of fatigue apparent in his face, his eyes were blood-shot.

"Is he bad?" Tom asked softly, instantly dreading the doctor's answer.

The doctor, startled from his revere, gazed into Tom's stricken face. "Oh, he'll be all right, as long as the infection doesn't spread and he's kept in a stable condition. He just needs some extra attention." The gaze drifted, paused on the door, and he spoke quietly, as if thinking aloud. "Some extra attention indeed."

Tom let out a sigh of relief, rose to meet the doctor. "I'm sorry, I don't know your name."

The doctor snapped back to Tom, smiling wearily, and took his hand. "Stephen." He replied, and strangely enough, did not obviously feel inclined to give his last name. He looked up at Tom with dark eyes that did not seem to miss much. "He will be conscious within a day, if you come to see him tomorrow I'm sure he'd be awake."

"But-" Tom started to protest but Stephen neared him and held up his hand.

"He'll be fine. I'll have a nurse keep an eye on him tonight and he'll be well cared for. You should go, try to get some sleep. I wouldn't want to see you here on one of these tables." Stephen gestured to the wooden operating table that Ben was presently stretched out on, his face pale and bandages woven tightly about his chest and shoulders. "Go home and try not to worry. Your brother is in good hands Mr. Murphy."

Present

Stephen's Office

Laura had not woken and neither had Stephen. You know what? I hadn't realized how lonely silence can be. I had been so confused lately that my thoughts had kept me company. But now I didn't want to think because then my mind would drift to what I was doing here now...how I couldn't really consider myself a pirate any longer...and then I would eventually drift to thinking about Tom. He had looked good...so handsome...yes...so handsome when he had stood there next to that...that woman. He had looked content. And he had looked content even with the knowledge that I was dead.

Damn! There I was...thinking about him again. I hated when that happened. I felt an ache inside my chest where my heart should have been. Damn him! Damn them all! Damn Natalie for leaving me here! Damn Will for telling me that basically, I was better off dead! Damn my mother for marrying someone who I, for the last five years, had been stealing from. And Damn Tom for being happy when I was suppose to be dead!

I was so mad that I let out a moan and directed all my anger into a well aimed punch at one of Stephen's white-washed walls. Well...that didn't do me much good I as pain erupted in my mind. I raised my shaking hand to my face and I watched as blood droplets ran down the back of my it from my torn knuckles. This was not a good way to start my morning. Wincing as I grabbed a bandage off one of Stephen's various shelves, I wrapped it as best I could around my knuckles and then picked up a pen and sheet of paper and started scribble a note to Stephen, telling him I was having a rotten morning, that I went for a quick walk, and that I'd be back in an hour or two.

Then, with another moan of frustration as I realized I've be leaving Laura alone and breaking Stephen's trust and my own word, I grabbed my cloak, and flew out the doorway in a rush of skirts and petticoats. I had to get out of that house...I do believe I'm going insane.

Are you insane if you think you are? Damn...now I sound insane. This really wasn't a good morning...no...not at all.

A/N: I'm so sorry for not updating! You all have no idea how bad my writer's block for this story was, and I even seriously considered discontinuing it. But then I knew I would hate myself if I discontinued a story because I HATE stopping something I started without finishing. So here I am, updating. I do plan to get back with a regular updating schedule, twice a month minimum. So don't give up on me yet because I have gotten some plot together so writing this should be a tad easier. Just know that I am juggling updates for five or more stories at once (yes, I am crazy. I know) so updates will not be as regular as you wonderful readers all deserve. Kudos to anyone still interested in this revived story! Mistakes are all mine and don't hesitate to point them out in your review! I would enjoy that very much and it would help me out in perfecting this story. Thanks again!

TO BE CONTINUED...