Blah…

I opened my eyes and for a moment couldn't see what was happening due to the tears and the light. A figure walked in front of me, his - or her - features remained hidden because of the light behind them. I breathed more heavily than the figure and mad no attempt to move or get up. They reached for my hand, but I jerked it away. I instantly regretted it.

The sudden movement caused a shuddering pain to erupt from my hand and travel up my arm. That one pain brought me out of my trance and I began to feel aches and pains everywhere. I was sure I wouldn't be able to swing a sword for a month or so and I wouldn't be surprised if a few of my ribs were broken.

As I opened my eyes wider, they became adjusted to the light. I was below decks where we kept the rum, water, and wine. William bustled around me with bandages and a wet cloth. He had other various instruments that could be used for healing. Then I realized he was healing me. He attempted to grab my hand again and I let him wrap a bandage around it. Not before I saw the hole in it.

"What happened?" I asked as I tried to sit up. The pain within me told me to stay on the floor.

"You don't remember?" He countered my question with a question of his own. I shook my head, "Well, I don't feel like I should be the one to tell you."

I looked myself over. There was a tightly wrapped bandage around my waist – broken ribs as I expected – and Will was bandaging my hand right now. I reached for my face with my good hand and winced when I touched my nose. I must look like Beckett right now. I smirked at the thought off my enemy's hideous nose, especially after it was broken!

I looked around. There was blood – my blood? – all over the place and on me and Will. I racked my brains, trying to force myself to remember the events of last evening – morning? Day? However hard I tried, the fuzzy black stuff at the edge of my brain prevented me from doing any serious thinking.

"I'm going to sleep again," I muttered.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Will warned, "You have a serious concussion. If you fall asleep you might not wake up."

"That's comforting," I mumbled as I sat up, slowly this time. My head was pounding. We stared at each other for awhile before I broke the silence.

"I want to speak to Quentin," I blurted and regretted it immediately. Will narrowed his eyes and balled his fists.

"Fine," he mumbled and begrudgingly got up.

"Well, I mean… he's my friend, too! I'm still grateful for what you did for me! I really appreciate it – but I don't like you better than him – argh!" I cried in frustration as he swept out the door. I grabbed a pillar and tried to pull myself up. My legs wobbled, but before I could get up, Quentin grabbed me to steady me. His attempts weren't quite as useful and I fell into him. His breath quickened and so did his heartbeat. I could hear it while my head was pressed into his chest.

I cleared my throat and stood up myself. I was blushing.

"I'm really sorry this had had to happen," he began and before I could stop him he continued, "It's just he was really drunk and I refused to bring him anymore rum."

"He?" I knew exactly who he was talking about.

"Oh… did you not know? Oops…"

"Where is he?"

"Who?"

"You know very well who! Don't lie to me Quentin! You did the right thing, refusing him rum, now help me out and tell me where he is!"

"No," he said defiantly. I stared at him disbelief. I straightened myself up to my full height (despite the pain in my ribs) and stormed out while muttering under my breath, "Must I do everything myself?"

I emerged on deck and was unprepared for the light. I shielded my eyes in vain, but to no avail. The light remained to bright for me to see anything. Was it because of my concussion? I held my hands in front of me as I tried to walk forward. Quentin grabbed one of my arms and tried to hold me back.

"Please don't do this, Eloise!" I stopped and he crashed into me.

"Is-is he still… you know… drunk?" I asked, a little scared. The events of last night flowed back into my mind. I didn't want another fiasco like that.

"Worse. He's asleep. You don't want to wake him up."

"What am I supposed to do, when I can't do anything? My arm just healed and now I've got broken ribs, nose, and a hole in. My. HAND!"

"Don't try to overexert yourself. You have a concussion, too," he tried to calm down as soon as he noticed my temper rise.

"Oh! Of course! How can I forget my CONCUSSION!" By now the whole crew was looking at us.

"She tends to get into arguments a lot, doesn't she?" Marty whispered to Pintel.

"I heard that, Shorty! I'm going to ignore it!" I shouted at the midget. No one here understands me! They just don't get it! It's not just that I'm mad at my father. It doesn't really matter that I'm covered in injuries. What bugs me is that the big picture is missing! There is no point in my life right now! I'm not signing myself over to the King and I'm sailing to Who-Knows-Where! Wait, that's it! I know who knows! Jack…