A/N: So updated probably won't be this frequent in the future. I've realized an issue with the story later on that I have to fix, plus I'm headed back to school on Saturday. Thanks to the couple of you who reviewed...it's much appreciated. So...here's Chapter 2. Enjoy.
Chapter 2
I laid on the bed the rest of the night, wide awake, until daylight crept through the small, grimy window. My eyes were sticky and stiff from my dried tears. Finally sitting up in bed, I looked longingly to the vacant spot on the bed to my right. It was still a little warm, his scent still clinging to the sheet and pillow. A lingering tear found its way out, and I brushed it away half-heartedly. I looked down, and I realized that in the folds of the worn linen of the bed, there was a glimmer of gold. I reached into the fold, producing a gold coin. This wasn't any ordinary gold coin, though. It had an ominous-looking skull etched into it. A small chain ran through it.
"You bought me off, you heartless wretch. Treated me like a common whore. You think this makes up for it? For abandoning me? Then you've got another thing coming, Jack Sparrow." I whispered through clenched teeth. He promised he wouldn't leave me, and I hated him, because I loved him. Of course, I realized what a mistake this was to begin with. I knew he'd never love me…but I just wished it so much that the only thing I could do to make it hurt less was to believe it to be possible. I made myself vulnerable. This was my fault as well. I opened my heart like I never had before, and he left, just like the others. Except those I hadn't loved. Now, all that was left was this "trinket of his appreciation" for offering him my "personal services." I knew that was the way he saw it. I guess the joke's on me.
I awoke with a start, panting heavily. Why did these memories insist on torturing me every time I closed my eyes? I'd pushed them out of my mind years ago, but every time I fell asleep, there they were again. That old weakness kept coming back to haunt me. I looked around the cabin, my head throbbing. Clearly, I was on a ship. I rubbed my eyes, trying to remember last night's…
"Wait a second…what the blazes am I doing on a ship?" I wondered aloud, my voice coming out sounding more startled than I would've preferred. I threw the covers off of me. Looking down, I realized I was in a man's shirt, not the dress I had been wearing the previous evening. I attempted to jump off the cot, but I clenched my teeth in agony as soon as my feet contacted the floor. A blinding pain shot through my left ankle, searing up through my entire leg, and I toppled to the ground with a sharp thud. I heard footsteps come rushing toward my cabin, then the door swung open.
"Oh good. You're up," an unmistakably familiar voice slurred indifferently. I turned around to face the person who had entered, but I already knew. I'd recognize that voice anywhere. I just hadn't willed myself to believe it yet.
"Jack?" I stammered. It had been too shocking a thought to rely on my ears alone, but now here I was disbelieving my own eyes. He lifted me back into the cot gently, throwing the covers back over me.
"The one and only…Well, not technically I s'pose…that damned monkey was named 'Jack' as well…" he mumbled, his breath warm against my face. My sense of smell concluded it, due to the strong, if not entirely unpleasant, aroma of rum, the sea, and something else so uniquely Jack that I couldn't call it by any other name. Okay, so I finally believed it. I was indeed in the presence of Captain Jack Sparrow. But I had no idea how to respond to it.
"How—why—" I had so many questions, and all seemed to be fighting over which one got to be asked first. "Why am I in different clothes?" There was a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
"My eyes were closed the whole time," he told me grinning, revealing his gold teeth. I felt my face grow hot, as I was reduced to an embarrassed silence. "You're welcome, love."
You're welcome…YOU'RE WELCOME? You lie to me, break my heart, leave me in Tortuga with nothing, no friends, no money, no job, and then you try to buy me off like a common whore? And now, above all else, you're expecting my GRATITUDE? What the devil do I owe you?
That's what I wanted to say, anyway. I wasn't one to wear my emotions on my sleeve though. Jack never was aware of just how deep my feelings for him ran. At least, that's what I thought at the present moment. It was probably best that way. No…it was definitely best that way.
"Wh—what do you mean? Why should I be grateful to you?" was the best I could muster out of all my lingering anger. He sat on the edge of my bed, reaching to me head. I recoiled slightly, confused by his actions. He held his hands up in an "I mean no harm" kind of way and pointed to my head. He reached for my head once more, and this time I let him. He removed a bandage from my forehead that I hadn't realized was there. It was stiff from my own blood.
"I s'pose I shoulda figured you wouldn't recall wha' happened last night," he mused, referring to my head injury. He began placing a new, clean bandage on my wound while recounting the story of last night, and how he had heroically rescued me. "I leave for a couple years, and look what 'appens," he grinned. That hurt me more than he knew. I doubt he noticed the pain what was reflected in my eyes.
"I'm not some poor damsel in distress who can't function without you, Jack. I've supported not only myself, but my—" I stopped dead in the middle of my self-righteous speech, my heart threatening to break out of my chest. Jack appeared confused and somewhat concerned.
"What is it love? Wha's wrong?" He looked around the room apprehensively.
"Brianna…" I whispered. "Oh God, Brianna! Jack! We've got to find her! Please, NOW!" I was in a complete state of panic, until Jack placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Let me GO! We've got to—"
"Mr. Gibbs! Come in 'ere, quickly!" Jack called. I assumed he'd be ordering Gibbs to return to Tortuga. I had broken out in a cold sweat, my already aching head now blinding me with pain induced by the thought of what could have happened to my daughter. The door opened slowly, revealing a heavy, bearded man. Before he could get a word out, Brianna burst past him into the room, racing to my bedside. She threw her arms around me. I ignored the pain, just so glad to hold my daughter in my arms again. I felt her tears soak my shirt.
"Oh thank God! I was so worried, Brianna…so worried." My heart eventually slowed, settling into its normal rhythm.
"Mommy, I told you not to go, I told you! But what happened in my dream was worse. I didn't want to be alone, Mommy," the young girl sobbed. I hugged her tightly. Jack watched curiously, paying careful attention to the girl. He snapped out of his daydream, tapping Brianna lightly on the shoulder.
"Why don' you go with ol' Gibbs 'ere, while I talk to your mother, young missy?" He reasoned with the young girl. It was strange, watching Brianna. She was normally so shy around strangers. But her eyes met with Jack's, and she smiled, scampering away towards Gibbs, and they both left the room. "I found 'er at the docks. Poor thing was crying her eyes out. Tha's when she saw I had you, and she told me…you 'ave a daughter…" I wasn't sure if it was a question, or merely stating the obvious. Either way, I wasn't sure how to respond.
"Her name is Brianna. She's a wonderful child." I beamed. He nodded absent-mindedly.
"How old is the lass, anyway?" he asked casually. I stared at the sheets.
"A month past five," I told him truthfully, smoothing out an imaginary wrinkle in the sheet. I could feel his eyes on me, but I changed the subject. "So what's this all about?" I asked, glad to change the subject. He sighed.
"Me crew and I are fresh returned from robbing Singapore blind. Hadn't been to me favorite port in a while, figured I'd see what I'd been missing!" I didn't doubt the truth behind his statement. I knew how Jack felt about Tortuga…and why, I thought disgustedly. With my next question, I knew I'd have to keep it as casual as possible to avoid showing him even a shadow of my pain or, God forbid, any tears. This man would not see the pain he had caused me if I could help it. And I could.
"So…why did you leave?" I asked him, refusing eye contact with the intention of sounding as nonchalant as possible. After a pause, I finally got the courage to lock eyes with him. I found him staring back at me, those eyes practically reading my soul. I felt unbearably exposed and wished nothing more than to take the words back.
"Why wouldn't I? I'm Captain Jack Sparrow," he answered simply, as though the question hardly warranted an answer. That answer hurt me more than if he had come right out and said, "Because you meant nothing more to me than the countless wenches I encounter on a near-daily basis." I left his question unanswered. He felt the room fill up with tension, and he did what he was good at and left. Rising from the bed, he helped me lie back down. "You really need some rest, love. Try and sleep," he told me, blowing out a candle that rested on a small table beside my cot. He turned around, placing his hand on the doorknob.
"Jack?" I called out. He turned to face me. "Thanks," I said as sincerely as I could. I suppose, if nothing else, he deserved my gratitude for saving Brianna.
He smiled, and had I not known him a well as I did, I might not have noticed. He pressed his hands together, bowing slightly.
"Aye, love," and he left the room. I just laid there for a long time, thousands of questions and thoughts running through my aching head. Eventually though, I gave into my exhaustion, drifting into an unnatural and fitful sleep.