"Lie to me convince me that I've been sick forever/ And all of this will make sense when I get better/ But I know the difference between myself and my reflection/ I just can't help but to wonder which of us do you love."

Evanescence; Breathe No More

Demon Called Deception

Chapter Fifteen: Lie To Me

"No! All of you are lying!" Rebecca cried, covering her tearstained face with her dirt covered hands.

Will stepped forward, wrapping his arms around Rebecca's trembling shoulders. She leaned into him, her arms going around his waist as tears streamed freely from her brown eyes.

"Please father," she whispered, "tell me it is a lie."

Will sighed, his eyes flicking up to meet Jack's. Jack was watching them silently with his stormy brown eyes. He sat calmly in his captain's chair, his fingers steepled at his lips. His eyes were hooded; no expression evident in his features.

Will sighed again and then gently pushed Rebecca far enough away from him so that he could look in her eyes. His heart broke at the pain and confusion he saw there.

"I cannot tell you that," he began. "If I did, that would be lying to you and I cannot do that; I have never done that to you."

Rebecca pushed him away from her and wrapped her arms around her waist. "How can you say that?" she cried. "You've lied to me for twenty years!"

"It was never something I wanted-" Will began and then paused, rubbing his eyes. "We did it to protect you Rebecca. It was never intended to hurt you."

"We had to," Michel said.

"You are still our sister," Alex seconded, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"No, I'm not," Rebecca sobbed.

"You were raised as their sister," Thomas answered. "That is all that matters."

"You could have told me." Rebecca whispered.

"We were going to on your birthday," Will replied. "We were going to tell you everything."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" she cried, the seemingly never-ending tears still streaming down her cheeks.

"Because I asked 'em not to," Jack answered, finally breaking his odd silence. "I needed ya ta grow up wit' a normal life. If you knew about everythin' that yer mum went through an' everythin' that yer blood carries wit' it, then you'd never 'ave a regular life."

"Who gave you the right to decide how I was supposed to live my life?" Rebecca asked angrily.

Jack's dark eyes grew cold. "Yer mum as she died in me arms." He stood up, placing his hands palm down on his desk, disregarding all of the books and papers laying there. "It could also be the fact that I'm yer father whether ye like it or not."

"Jack," Will began.

Jack ignored him. "I don't know why it's botherin' you now, lass," he said, his tone gentler. "Skinner told ya who ye were."

Rebecca gazed up at him, wiping the tearstains from her cheeks. "I thought he was lying," her brown eyes flashed, "as all pirates do."

Jack's lips twitched. "Touché, love. But in all actuality, Skinner wasn't lyin'. I am yer father an' Lor Adams was yer mum."

Rebecca hugged her arms to her stomach, her hands collecting fistfuls of her dirty and ragged dress. "I just do not understand why this is happening. I just wish that someone would explain."

Alex's arm went around her shoulders, holding her to him in an attempt to offer her some support. Will looked up into Jack's softening eyes. "We need to tell her." He whispered.

Jack sighed. He slumped back into his high-backed chair, his shoulders relaxing slightly as some of the seemingly ever present tension diminished. "That, my dear, is a long- and not so easy to tell-story."

And with that, Jack launched into the tale.

"Emily? Emily, how are you feeling today?"

Emily looked up from where she was playing with her son. "Yes, of course. Why do you ask?"

Elizabeth sat down slowly, her skirts settling around her legs. "I have been worried about you. You have not seemed yourself lately."

Emily was silent for a moment. She looked down at her son as he sat playing, oblivious to both women sitting there. "I wasn't myself for awhile," she finally replied. "I allowed my concern to eat away at me. I allowed it to overwhelm me. But I spoke to Lieutenant Norrington a week or so ago and he showed me that I am not the only one feeling this way. He showed me that I needed to stay strong not only for my son, but for myself as well."

Elizabeth smiled, reaching out and taking her daughter's hand in her own. "He is a wise man. Much like his father. He will bring much to our family."

"He must be in love," Emily answered, "and brave to marry into a pirate's family."

"Did not Thomas do the same thing?" Elizabeth questioned. "He married you, and your father is a pirate, even though he may not look it."

"Yes, but Thomas did not know about it until recently. He did not knowingly marry a pirate's daughter."

Elizabeth's brow furrowed. "Is that any better? Was it not harder to keep that secret from him, than it would have been just to tell him out right? You carried the weight of our secret on your shoulders for four years. Was it not hard for you?"

Emily did not reply. Her mother's words rang true. She knew she would not be able to deny it. Keeping a secret such as the one they had kept hidden for so long had been trying.

"They will be alright, won't they?" Emily asked in reply.

"Of course they will, my dear. They will be fine." Elizabeth answered, a small smile crossing her face while at the same time some form of fear jabbed painfully at her heart.

"You have done well Captain Skinner," he said, the smile gracing his lips not quite reaching his eyes. "You have placed the map- and the bearer I might add- back in its rightful hands. Congratulations are in order I do believe."

Skinner merely scowled. "No need ta celebrate yet, mate. Least not 'til the treasure is in our 'ands. She's as headstrong as 'er mum. She could make it difficult."

His grin widened. "I actually plan on it. Nothing would give me more pleasure than to torture one of the bloodline that destroyed me. She has much to learn; so much history that she has only brushed the tip of it. There is so much I must teach her."

Skinner stared at him. He was unsure exactly what this man was speaking of. He knew the man was talking about the legend surrounding the map and the treasure. He was not that daft. But the rest, this history that he constantly spoke of, meant nothing to him.

Skinner was not an ignorant man. He knew there were plenty of things this stranger kept hidden from him. Secrets such as his name. Several times over the last few months Skinner had tried to make him slip up, but never to any avail. The man had always replied that all would be revealed in good time. At times, Skinner had a sudden urge to beat the man until he answered his questions. But the strong urge would pass as soon as their eyes met.

Now, Skinner did not fancy himself a weak man by any means. In fact, most men would quiver in fear should they ever cross his path. But this man, this man was different. Even though neither his face nor his voice bore any trace of an emotion or expression, there was something about his eyes that screamed danger. Something in his eyes that proved him to be even more cunning, even more evil than even Skinner himself.

And that frightened him.

"Your son must also learn much."

"My son?" Skinner answered, jolting out of his thoughts. "What does my son have to do with it?"

"Everything."

They sat in stony silence. He stared unabashedly over at her, his dark eyes taking in her down turned face. She would not look at him, would not dare look at his familiar face for she knew what would happen if she did.

She knew that her heart would forgive him.

He knew that it was not easy for her, knew he had blown his last chance. But still, still, something inside of him whispered, telling him he needed to at least explain to her his reasons. With a shuddering breath he broke their frozen silence.

"Em-"

"Captain," she snapped, still refusing to meet his gaze.

"Em," he continued, refusing to use the title she had given him. "I need to explain."

At this she looked up, her odd eyes blazing. The moment their eyes met she could feel her heart thump, but she gathered all of her will, her anger, and centered it on the man kneeling in front of her. "Explain what, Connors? How you've betrayed me? Again? How you've betrayed my crew and-"

"Your crew is fine," Tristan interrupted.

"Only because of a deal I made! Only because of a bargain your father was forced to keep! You led us straight into a trap-"

"You led yourself into it," he exploded, all manner of civility gone. "I had no say in it. You and your dreams have led to this. If not for them you would still be out searching for you long-lost sister."

"A sister," Emory snapped, "that your father kidnapped. He started this. And you helped." Her eyes widened for a moment as she paused, a thought flitting through her mind. "He sent you, didn't he? He sent you two years ago to kill me."

Tristan shook his head. "No. He sent me to watch you, to make sure nothing happened."

Emory stayed silent, her eyes staring unseeingly at the brig floor. "That makes no sense," she whispered. "If he sent you to watch me, then why did he take Rebecca?"

Tristan gave a brief smile at her question. "Because I gave him the wrong information. I told him that the girl he told me to watch- you- was the wrong girl and that I had killed you." He paused. "Which at the time I thought I had. I informed him of another girl; another girl who could possibly be the heir to Lor Adams."

"You gave him Rebecca," Emory finished.

Tristan moved closer to Emory, knowing that she could not harm him since she was in shackles. "It was either that or I give him you." He stated. "And I couldn't do that."

"Why? Because you had feelings for me? Because I was a good lay?" she bit out.

Tristan was silent again, his expression going blank. His gaze wandered down, following a small drop of water that had made its way through a tiny hole in the ship's side.

Emory slid her foot quickly forward, pushing a mound of dirt at his knees. "Tell me why you could destroy the life of an innocent girl, but not mine," she demanded.

Tristan looked up at her finally, still silent. Minutes later he spoke. "I don't know what you want me to say."

Emory's eyes hardened. "Lie to me," she replied. "Tell me that you did everything because you cared for me; that you never wanted to hurt me," she paused. "Tell me that you loved me."

Tristan's gaze softened for a moment, but quickly hardened back into steely resolve. He stayed silent, refusing to speak; refusing to admit anything. Tristan reached out slowly, allowing the tips of his fingers to briefly brush away a strand of her unkempt hair.

Emory jerked away, the loose strands of her hair flying around her face. "Lie to me dammit. Tell me you couldn't do it because you cared for me."

"I can't do that," he whispered. "Because that wouldn't be a lie."

Emory's eyes narrowed. Words left her for a moment. She wasn't sure how to respond. She had spent two years hating the man that knelt in front of her; two years hating everything that was him. And yet with one sentence, one whispered word, he could make her forget everything he had ever done. Well, almost.

The anger boiled deep inside of her, burning in the pit of her stomach and stabbing at her heart. How could he expect her to believe him after all of this? After everything he had done to her, how could he ever expect her to trust what he says again?

"Don't give me any of yer bullshit, Connors. Do you honestly expect me to believe that?"

Tristan sighed. She could never make anything easy. He reached out quickly, gently grabbing hold of both sides of her face. Emory attempted to twist her face away, doing her best not to look at him. She reached up, her own hands grabbing hold of his arms, the chains on her arms clanking loudly.

"Listen to me, Emory," he whispered, drawing her face closer to his. "I am not lying to you. Nor have I lied to you since this journey began. I just never told you the complete truth."

"That's the same thing."

Tristan shook his head, his dark hair waving. "No, it isn't. There were just some things I couldn't tell you; some things that even I don't know. But you can trust me when I say . . ."

"Well, isn't this a pretty picture?"

Tristan backed away at the voice, his hands releasing her face. Emory's eyes left his, traveling instead to the pirate standing outside of her cell. Tristan stood up slowly, turning his back on her, his grey eyes growing bored.

"What do you want Compton?"

Compton merely grinned. "Interrogatin' the prisoner, are we? Gettin' anythin' useful?"

"That's none of your business," Tristan snapped. "What do you want?"

"Cap'n wants ta see ya in 'is quarters. Told me ta come find ya."

"Fine, then lets go and leave our guest to her own devices." Tristan replied, opening the cell door and stepping through. With one last look at Emory, he turned away and left the brig.

The moonless night seemed ghostly, the fog hovering over the resting sea caressing the anchored ship. The ship seemed almost peaceful; the majority of the crew sleeping in their bunks. The few men still awake watched over the seas, their eyes searching for any sign of danger.

For some of the more superstitious of the lot, the fog bode ill. It could bring nothing but bad luck to the watchful pirates. Nothing good could come of it. Or so they believed.

And yet for one man, a man who was not a pirate but more of a ghost of a man who had once been, the fog bore good tidings. For tonight his story would be told. Tonight they would find their missing pieces. Tonight his past would become their present.

He made his way silently through the ship. The crew paid little or no attention to him, watching the ill-bearing fog more than they did anything else. He walked silently down the steps, not one board creaking beneath his weight. He stopped only when he reached the unguarded cell, the sleeping form of a woman lying prone on the dirty floor, her wild, dark hair splayed about her head.

The man opened the door slowly, leaving the stolen keys hanging in the lock. She did not move, did not twitch, as he walked closer and knelt down next to her. He reached out tentatively, his thin fingers brushing against her hair. He moved his hand down, lightly tracing the contours of her face.

"Such innocence hiding in this tough face," he whispered. He smiled. "But you were like that before. Hiding your true intentions."

His fingers stalled over her eyes, hovering just over her eyelids. "Sleep well, my dear. Dream deeply, my sleeping beauty, for when you wake, your life will be altered; your lost memories will be remembered." He paused, his fingers trailing to her lips. "And you will be mine."

She shifted uncomfortably at his words, her eyes clenching in her sleep as if unwanted dreams filtered through her mind.

His smile widened. "Yes, my dear. Dream well. Remember everything you have forgotten."

AN: Wow. It has been a long time since I updated. I am so sorry. But, for awhile I lost my muse. And then when I found it again, I could only write a little bit. And then it left. Again. But, now I've found it. Again. This time, I think it'll stay. I find that I can write a whole lot more when I'm in school, and since the dreadful thing has started up again, I'm having no problem writing anything. Weird, huh? Anyway, I hope you enjoyed!

I'm honestly really tired right now, so I'm not gonna have time to write to my reviewers. I will say, though, that I appreciate all of you, new and old, that have reviewed and I hope you continue to do so!