Catherine stood with her back against the cold, rough bars in the Flying Dutchman's brig. Bill remembered her. She had heard that Davy's curse slowly eroded the memories of its possessor; at least it hadn't got that far. But although the curse seemed to have not affected his mind much it had definitely affected his body- most notably in the face. His face, shoulders and hat were littered in barnacles and his skin now had a greenish tinge. It was hard to tell what was his real hair and what was seaweed. And his face, his face had been partly covered by a starfish and the rest with a few sea-urchins. However it was still him, she could still recognise him. Catherine closed her eyes and painful memories flooded to the surface.

'Hello Hector.'

Barbossa stopped in his tracks- he had been enjoying a walk on the ship- his ship. Now he felt a hand on his shoulder and the touch of something sharp on his neck. Although it was a strange sensation- he could feel both these things- but not the coldness of the blade, the warmth of the hand nor the spray of the ocean. Numb, unfeeling; the curse seemed to get worse every day. Barbossa knew the voice, he had expected it- it would have to happen sooner or later- but it was going to happen sooner than he had previously thought.

'Miss Vane- I was wonderin' when I'd see ye again.' He remarked cheerfully.

Almost immediately the hand tightened its grip. Even the bravest Pirate would be somewhat daunted by such a threat. Catherine knew this was unnatural- Hector was a good fighter- however even he felt fear. Something was wrong, but she couldn't quite place it. Perhaps it was the fact it was freezing and Barbossa wasn't wearing any sort of coat or perhaps the fact that the pearl seemed to give off an air of misery and torment. She had been on this ship many times and had never felt this before.

'Where's Jack?' She hissed in his ear.

'On a tiny island in the middle of the ocean. Didn't ye hear of the mutiny?'

'Of course.' She snapped.

'Ah you just wanted proof…' Barbossa laughed harshly before continuing. 'I think the one shot we left him with has been used by now.'

'Where's Bill?' Catherine asked- uneasiness creeping into her voice. Barbossa knew she was panicking; her usually collected demeanour was slowly breaking. Like a cliff being eroded by the waves.

'Bootstrap- well he's like Jack- cared too much about others. He felt guilty… Damn him… And was disrespectful to his captain. I couldn't allow that; don't want the crew to get ideas.'

The blade pressed closer to his throat. Barbossa still couldn't see Catherine's face- she was still behind him. Although it would have been hard to see her anyway; they were in a shadowy part of the ship, near his cabin, where the moonlight couldn't reach.

'You killed him! You bas-'

'He's still alive Missy.'

'Where?'

'At the bottom of the ocean…'

Suddenly Barbossa felt an extremely strange feeling in his throat. He looked down. The blade had totally impaled his neck. He shook his head and laughed. However the blade made this difficult; the laugh sounded like he was having a coughing fit. This was totally expected. Catherine never could watch her temper.

Catherine frowned. This strange turn of events had washed away her strong emotions. It wasn't possible! He hadn't reacted to the pain, let alone slumped to the floor. She withdrew her weapon and examined it. Sure enough, it was gilded with blood. Even in the shadows the crimson on the blade was noticeable. She looked at Barbossa's throat- he seemed to be waiting patiently for something, there was no wound.

Barbossa turned round and looked at Catherine.

'I was getting to that.' Barbossa slowly explained about the Aztec gold and through the tale his face was getting redder and redder. His temper was waning too. 'And you know what? Bootstrap said we deserved this. We deserved this Hell! We need all the gold we took t' break the curse, and he, he sent a piece away to his damn child! So I sent him to the depths, so he experiences a new level of Hell! Bootstrap Bill- there be a name ye won't be hearin' again.' Barbossa said Bootstrap's name with malice in his voice. Bitter wasn't even a good enough word to describe it.

He looked at Catherine levelly- her eyes were unfocused. She had dropped the knife and was using her only gloved hand to support herself on a wooden pole. Her mouth was forming unheard words- she was struggling to cope with what he had said. Barbossa sighed and waited for her to stop.

Catherine was finding it hard to breathe. Strong emotion had suddenly collapsed on top of her. A heaving mass of sadness, fear and regret. So powerful, she'd almost fell to the ground. She couldn't control it- it was a monster that had been fighting to get out ever since she had heard of the mutiny. The emotion escalated and was warped until it became pure anger. She stood up properly and drew her sword. An idiotic act at the very least, but anger had blinded her.

She charged at him and he drew his weapon. They fought. Her with furious blows and him with stamina to match- stamina that could last an eternity. Their fight brought them onto the main deck of the ship. Suddenly a monkey jumped into her face and Barbossa saw his chance. He deliberately sliced her across the face. Catherine dropped her weapon for the second time that evening. She staggered backwards and covered her face with her hands. Both were now looked soaked in blood.

Slowly she lowered her hands and brought herself to look at Barbossa's face. He was no monster- she knew that. But as she looked at the tattered remains of his body in the moonlight she found it hard to believe what she knew as truth. Was this really the man she had drank with, joked with and even considered a friend? He hadn't killed her- but was that because a worse fate was in store for her? Or was he showing mercy? Catherine grimaced, her whole head was throbbing, and something wet was trickling down her cheek. There was no time to feel pain; she knew what she had to do. Catherine jumped over the side of the ship and prepared to welcome oblivion.

Catherine looked at Bootstrap. He had said her name. She wondered how long they had been stood in silence. It seemed like an eternity but time was a strange and fickle mistress. A million words swarmed in her head but she said only one.

'Damn.'

Catherine bit her lip and stared at a barnacle-encrusted wall. It was the only place she could look so she didn't have to make eye contact with anybody. Her face was burning, but not with embarrassment. Anger swept through her- however it wasn't the raging, burning fire that was usually bubbling below the surface of her apparently calm demeanour. It was cold, unforgiving and grave. All other feeling was gone. Just this strange, unnatural feeling remained. This was the true danger. Fierce, wild anger could be controlled. But this, coldness, could not. It was this sensation that had earned Catherine her reputation. Death was just one of many things which had resulted from this sensation.

'I hope you enjoy your stay.' An oddly familiar voice remarked. Elizabeth recognised it immediately; it was Norrington. He was alone- none of Davy's crew seemed to be around. Though you never could tell, because most of them blended in with the ship.

'You too mate… You too…' Jack laughed.

'And what is that statement supposed to mean?' The Admiral asked.

'Well it seems to me Commo- Admiral that you are a prisoner just as much as the rest of us.'

'Then you are mistaken.'

'We'll see.' Jack smiled cheerfully.

A heavy set of footsteps suddenly filled the room. A figure wearing similar, but much dirtier, naval uniform entered the room.

'Ah Mr Mercer. I hope you enjoy the pleasure of looking after our prisoners. I have a very important man to attend to. Make sure me and Governor Swann are not disturbed.'

'Aye.' Answered the man smoothly.

Elizabeth looked at him and frowned.

'You… You… You work for the most despicable man alive. I suppose it was you who killed my father.' Elizabeth said heatedly.

'Third-party killer love. I don't get involved with the small fish.' Mercer smiled. 'Although it seems you do.'

'What are you talking about?' Elizabeth asked suspiciously.

'They've found some documents on the ship. Signed by me employer. Same ones given to the assassin. He was on your ship.'

'Really?' Barbossa mused. 'That is indeed interesting. Don't you mean she?'

'What?' Mercer asked, it was his turn to be suspicious.

'She. Don't you mean she was on the ship? The assassin was female.'

A/N My internet has been terrible for ages so I apologise for the very late update. I'm also going on holiday in a week's time so don't expect another update soon. I did write a different flashback for this chapter but it was terrible. If you think this was bad you should see my other attempt! Definitely need to stop revolving the story around my OC in the next chapter.