Chapter V
The Heart

Bree had a plan.
It wasn't a very good plan, but she had nothing to lose. She hadn't told Bootstrap, because he would have tried to stop her. But Bree didn't care if she was caught. Jones couldn't really do anything to her, and her back was toughened from her frequent floggings.
Bree was going to sneak into the captain's cabin. Once inside, she would look for a log or a chart, anything to give her a clue as to where they were headed, or where they were. Then, using the data gleaned from that, she would formulate a plan to escape, be it by jumping ship and swimming to land, or remembering the common trade ship routes.
Rain was pounding the decks, slipping off the sails and drenching the rigging. Lightening crashed, thunder booming down at the Dutchman. Waves splashed over the sides as Bree made her way towards the cabin. She was supposed to be checking the depth, but she had snuck away. Everyone was busy with their own roles, and Bree easily made it to the great door. She hid nearby, waiting. She was sopping wet, and knew that she would leave wet spots on the floor, but the entire ship was damp, including Jones' cabin. She could get away with it easily.
The door opened, and the dim light was just enough to cast Jones' shadow across Bree as she lay hidden. She only got a glimpse of his face. His eyes seemed dimmer than usual. He walked with more of a limp, as well.
Bree watched as the captain left his cabin. Her heart beating hard in her ears, Bree stole out from her hiding place, entering the room. She had been there before, and she was determined to do what she had planned.
As Bree approached the large organ in the far end of the room, she began rifling through some papers scattered about the floor. Nothing. Surely Jones kept a log or a chart or something! She looked up, then stopped. As small tinkling sound had started. Bree recognized the sound. It was a music box. She stood, going over to the organ, careful not to touch any of the keys. She saw a small, heart shaped music box. It was playing softly. Ah, yes, that was what Bree had seen! But she was puzzled. Why would Jones have a music box? And where had she heard that tune before?
Picking up the small device, Bree examined it. It had been half obscured by a container of writing pens. She looked at the box, laughing inwardly. Did Jones have a soft spot for this kind of music? This seemed like the thing a lady would have!
Suddenly, Bree heard the captain's unmistakable clunking footsteps. Frantic, Bree scooted the container of pens back to the way they had been, hiding any evidence of her going through them. Unable to waste time putting the music box back, she clenched her hand around it and looked around. Only one thing to do. Hide behind the tall organ pipes.
Wedging herself in between the tallest sets of pipes she could find, Bree watched as Jones entered his cabin. She felt her heart beating so hard she thought it might burst out of her chest. She clenched the music box tight as the captain neared his organ. He didn't seem to notice anything amiss. Bree didn't dare breath. Jones sat down, his shoulders slumped. His tentacles hung limply. Bree thought he looked sad, but why?
Jones bent over his organ, and suddenly, his tentacles began flying over the keys. Music boomed up from the pipes, and Bree almost screamed as the pipes she hid behind began booming out as well. Her ears were ringing, but she soon forgot that. The song Jones was playing was what the music box had been playing!
Of course! Why hadn't Bree recognized it? It was the song he was always playing! The fact that she had never heard the music box version had confused her so she didn't recognize it. And she hadn't been expecting it. This made Bree wonder. Why play the tune of a music box? She could see part of Jones' face. She could only make out his eyes, and the look in them made Bree feel something well up inside her. He looked so…sad. No! She didn't pity him! She hated him!
And then Bree looked down at the music box again. Jones must love it dearly to play its tune. Bree looked back up at the captain. Her eyes hardened. Then she would take it! Let him know what it was like to lose something dear!
Bree was lucky. Jones was too preoccupied to notice her slip out from behind the pipes and run out of the room.
Bree slid out through the doors, rain pelting down on her. She looked up, making sure no one saw her. No one was taking any real notice of her anyway, so she snuck to the front of the ship, standing over the figurehead. She climbed down onto the bow, hanging on to the figurehead and edging out along the bowsprits. She balanced there, the wind threatening to buffet her about, her hair flying and slapping her face.
Bree had stowed the box in her shirt. She reached in and drew it out, looking at it. Jones may control the sea, but he wouldn't be able to find the music box at the bottom of it!
Bree edged out farther until she had no more room to hold on to anything. She clenched a fist around the small box and held it out over the raging waters. She stood there like that for a long time. Her emotions were battling within her. She hated Jones, and wanted to make him angry. But the way he had looked when he came in…made her sad. She drew her hand back, looking down at the small music box. She shielded it from the slanting rain, keeping the gears from jarring. Why not keep it?
Bree slowly tucked the box away in her shirt again, where no one would guess to look. She then climbed back onto the deck and went back to work, pretending she had never left. All the while she listened to the booming sound of Jones' organs, but the tune he played had a new meaning.

Bree didn't sleep well that night. The music box was hidden in the folds of her jerkin in a pouch that hid it from sight. Just feeling it pressed against her body was a sort of comfort. She was glad she hadn't thrown it into the sea.
Bree was almost asleep when she heard a slight disturbance. She uncovered her head and raised it slightly. Then the same clunking sound that heralded the captain's approach began. Bree was confused. It sounded like he was…headed for the hold.
Bree pulled the ragged blanket up to her chin, leaving her eyes open a slit to see what would happen.
Davy Jones indeed came into the hold. He clunked down the steps, and suddenly made a beeline for Bree's hammock. Bree concentrated on breathing normally, but her heart was pounding so loud she was sure her captain could hear it.
Jones surprised her though. He simply stood over her, looking at her. Bree could make out his eyes, but not the emotions in them. She stifled a growl. He was probably assessing her physical health to contrive more tortures for her.
Jones suddenly moved away, and headed for the bosun. Bree lifted her head just a little to see him take hold of something and rip it away. Her medallion!
Jones looked at the medallion, and then tucked it into his shirt. He then turned, looking towards Bree again, but the girl put her head down. Then Jones left, back to his cabin.
Bree was bewildered. What had just happened? She didn't sleep at all that night.

Davy Jones stood at the railing, his claw clutching the chain of Bree's medallion. He looked at it, not understanding his own feelings.
Bree.
She had a pretty name. But it was wild, like her. She…she was a perfect pirate, fit the sea like Calypso herself.
Jones grimaced, still looking at the medallion. No. No, it was just…just the fact that she was a girl. She was just a reminder! That was all. Just bad memories. He put the medallion back into his shirt, near the place his heart should have been.
Davy Jones turned towards his cabin, making his was inside. He sat down, realizing how tired he was. He closed his eyes. Bree was there before him.
The pale blue eyes of the captain snapped open. What's wrong with me? he thought in frustration. He admired her. That was all. He was exhausted. Too tired to think properly.
The moon was hidden from view as the Dutchman sailed on. Two pairs of eyes never truly closed that night.

Bree rose earlier than morning, owing to the fact that she hadn't even slept. She pulled on her jerkin, which had been returned to her, and went up on deck. She looked out over the water, a thick layer of fog covering it. She leaned on the railing, sniffing the moisture.
Bree's neck hairs began to prickle. She turned slowly. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she found that her captain was standing only two feet away from her.
"Pretty, isn't it?" Jones said in a flat tone.
Bree opened her mouth, but then shut it, turning around again, signaling that she had no wish to talk to him. But Jones simply went to the railing, leaning on it beside her. He looked out over the water, and Bree glanced at him, noticing that his eyes were slightly troubled. When he looked at her, she looked down quickly, unnerved.
Bree turned her head to the side as Jones spoke again, "Where are ye from, Bree?"
Bree thought it odd that he was asking her. She knew he didn't like her. But he was always so…curious about her. Probably hasn't seen a girl in…who knows!
When Bree didn't say anything, Jones put his claw to the back of her neck and turned her around, but Bree was surprised when it wasn't as harsh as he normally was. His grip was gentler.
"Where are ye from?"
Bree swallowed, answering, "I…I don't really know…I wasn't born where I lived when I was a young girl. My home has always been the sea."
Bree saw something struggling in Jones' face. Was it admiration? Recognition? Remembrance? She couldn't tell. But something tugged at her heart. He looked…desperate. Was it because he wanted her to talk? Just to talk? Did he want to hear something from her? Something to…to remind him of something else that he forgot?
Bree felt compelled to speak, "I think I was born on a pirate ship. Me mother was a wench, an' I think the cap'n o' the ship took her along with him, either for the crew or for hisself. That cap'n was my father. The ship Bloodsail."
Jones suddenly showed recognition. Bree continued, "After I was born, my mother was taken back to Tortuga, I think, an' that's where I was first raised. But then my mother died an' I stowed away on a merchant vessel. After that they found me an' took me to a smaller town where I was adopted. They tried to train me to be a lady. Ha!" Bree laughed harshly. She looked at Jones. A slight smile played about his lips, as if he found it to be amusing. Bree actually stifled a smile, but she continued.
"I ran away and joined the crew o' the Goresail. So my life has been the sea from th' beginnin'."
Jones looked slightly impressed. He spoke his thoughts, "Good for a young lass like yerself, Bree. At least ye can work an' fight well."
Bree grinned, a little confused. She found herself enjoying this conversation. She looked up at Jones, saying, "So…don't I get yer life story?"
Jones gaze snapped to her, and Bree flinched, realizing she must have done something wrong. He growled, "Don't ever ask that!"
Bree was somewhat hurt by this, but she growled back, "My apologies, sir, but I was only-"
Jones didn't listen. He turned around, snarling over his shoulder to her, "Git down below if ye've nothin' to do!"
Bree, angry and hurt, stamped her foot down, "Fine!"
She marched back down the hold angrily, her feet nearly punching holes in the deck.
Jones turned to watch her, and felt a slight pang of remorse. Was it really her fault that she had brought up those memories?
Why didn't my crew just kill her with the rest of the crew of the Goresail? Jones thought angrily. Since she came aboard, his feelings had been unstable and confused him. He growled, going to the bow and looking out over the waves.
Women. They truly did vex all men.

Bootstrap pulled Bree out of her hammock, knowing he couldn't coax her out, "C'mon, Cap'n will be angry if ye don't get up!"
Bree mumbled as she stood, picking the limpets from her cheek, "He's always angry at me!"
Jimmylegs had risen to give Bree her daily whipping. He grinned, his hand going to his neck to finger the medallion as he always did. His eyes suddenly went blank. Then they clouded with anger. He stormed over to Bree, bringing the flail down hard. Bree fell flat, then she flipped over, only to have the whip strike her hard across the face. She growled, indignant, "What was that for? I'm up!"
Jimmylegs hauled Bree up by the hair, growling at her, "Where'd ye put it?"
Bree was confused but not frightened. She bit Jimmylegs' hand and started running for the deck. Halfway up the stairs, Jimmylegs grabbed her ankle, causing her to fall. She kicked him hard and crawled up awkwardly, only to have the bosun pounce on her. He straddled her back, grabbing her neck as she tried to get away.
Bree was wriggling like an eel, baring her teeth and snarling. She had her head slammed down on the deck and two claws pressed to her eyes. Suddenly, she went still as Jimmylegs stopped clawing at her. She wrenched her face away, looking up.
Jones pushed Jimmylegs away roughly, then hauled Bree up. He folded his arms across his chest, looking at her expectantly.
Bree growled, looking at Jimmylegs, "'E just attacked me for no reason!"
Jimmylegs snarled, "She's a thief! She stole me medallion!"
Bree gave a vicious growl, lunging at him, but Jones grabbed her around the waist, pulling her back. Bree fought, calling out, "Liar! It's my medallion! An' I don't have it!"
Jones held Bree back easily, pinning her arms down. He barked out harshly, "Silence!" Everything went still. The crew had all gathered on deck to see what would happen.
Jones let go of Bree and she ducked around him, placing him between herself and Jimmylegs. She looked at Jones, almost pleadingly. He took it! Wouldn't he do anything?
Jones walked to Jimmylegs, and pulled out the medallion, "This is mine, now."
Jimmylegs made a slight sound of protest, but he didn't dare defy his captain. Jones turned to the girl, holding the medallion up, "If ye ever try to steal this, it's the gratin's for ye."
Bree bared her teeth but didn't say anything. She whirled around, stalking off to the bow. Jones followed her with his eyes, watching as she slipped over to the bowsprits. A slight smile threatened to show. She had true spirit. He tucked the medallion away, and then turned back to his crew, barking out the usual orders.

Bree didn't like sea urchins. Funny how her hammock happened to be absolutely full of them. Bree groaned, steeling herself and scooping bunches of them up in her bare hands. She listened to the music rolling through the ship in waves, too angry and frustrated to appreciate it now. She muttered curses under her breath, sucking on her fingers every few seconds and then scooping out more of the spiny creatures.
Bree might not have been paying attention to the music, but she noticed when it stopped. And it stopped quite suddenly. Bree looked up, the silence eerie and sinister.
Bree heard the slam of a door. Clunking footsteps. Jones.
Jones came down the steps faster than Bree thought possible. He headed straight for her, his face a mask of hatred. Bree, confused and frightened, tried to dodge around him, but he grabbed her by the throat, and pulled her to the steps, actually hurling her up to the deck and following after.
Bree landed hard, dazed and confused. She struggled up, looking at Jones, her eyes full of fear.
Jones stood before her, quivering with rage. The scene might remind one of a coiled adder, ready to strike at a newborn hatchling. Jones walked forward and kicked Bree hard, hissing down at her viciously, "Where is it?"
Bree didn't understand, trying to defend herself. She cried out between kicks, "What?"
Jones grabbed her by the hair, hurling her to the side, "You know what it is! Ye thief! Ye stole it! Where is it?"
Bree now understood. The music box! Jones had discovered that it was missing! Bree still played dumb, "I don't know what ye're talkin' 'bout!"
Jones went wild at this, actually drawing his sword. He stood over Bree, raising the blade.
Bree cowered, covering her head with her arms. Then, the blow fell. She groaned in agony as the flat of the blade slammed into her back, leaving horrible red wheals on her back. Over and over again, the blows rained down on her. She touched the pouch hidden in the folds of her jerkin. No! She wouldn't reveal it!
The blows continued to rain down, but at last they stopped. Bree was covered in blood, tears soaking her cheeks. She looked up, seeing Jones stumble over to the side, his head down. Pity surged through Bree. His eyes were filled with pain.
Levering herself up, Bree backed away, still watching Jones. Part of her enjoyed watching this, but another part wished she would give back the box. But no!
Bree looked up to see Bootstrap. He put his arm around her shoulders to support her as she limped down to the hold with him. He helped her into her hammock and gave her an old, seawater soaked cloak to press to her back.
Bree voiced her thoughts, "What was Jones talkin' about up there?"
Bootstrap shrugged, saying, "Not sure, mate. I think he's lost 'is treasure."
Bree thingyed her head, "What d'ye mean?"
Bootstrap explained, "He only has a few treasured possessions in 'is cabin. One is an old music box that belonged to a girl. It means more to 'im than anythin' in the world."
Bree stayed her hand from going to the pouch. She played dumb, "Why's that?"
Bootstrap answered, "He was in love with the girl."
Bree's eyes went wide. Jones? In love with someone? Was it possible that her grim captain could love anyone?
Bootstrap left Bree to rest. The girl reached into her jerkin and pulled out the small music box, stroking its sides tenderly. Did it really mean that much to Jones? Bree's eyes went soft, and then hardened. Good. It caused her cruel captain pain. That was what she wanted!

Bree stood near the prow, sniffing the clear air that always came after a good rain and gently rubbing her shoulders. Some of Jones' blows had landed there, and she was sore. Her fins were cut and crusted with dried blood.
Bree looked up as Ratlin walked past her. Just for fun, Ratlin took one of the many ropes he always had with him, knotted it and swung it at Bree's back. Bree arched her back in pain, but didn't cry out. She simply whirled round, caught the end of the rope as it came down for another swing, and swung it back at Ratlin, who took it full in the face. Bree dodged to the side as Ratlin rubbed his cheek ruefully. He growled at her, but glancing to the side, saw Jones approaching. He walked past, muttering curses.
Bree didn't notice Jones as she turned back to look out over the dark ocean. She only noticed him when he spoke, "How's yer back?" Bree felt him run his claw down the upper part of her back, and she winced, partly from pain and partly from disgust. Jones withdrew his claw, seeming a bit disgusted himself.
Bree swallowed, and then answered her captain, "It's fine. Doesn't hurt a bit."
Jones could see she was lying. She was moving stiffly, hinting at her pain. But he bit back the words he wanted to say, instead saying, "Good. I won't let ye stay in th' hold tomorrow. Ye're workin' just like the others."
Bree swung round to face him, but he had been closer than she had thought, and her arm brushed his. She bit something back, startled and confused. But she spoke in a strained voice, "I…I didn't expect any kindness from ye."
Jones chuckled, actually reaching out and tipping Bree's chin with his claw, "Ye're a brave lass, Bree. Tough, too. Never met a girl as wild as ye."
Bree tried to swallow, her skin prickling as she answered, "An' how many girls have ye met out here?"
Jones removed his claw, answering, "I wasn't always like this, ye know."
Bree knew this, but she still could never picture her cruel captain as anything but the half-man half-sea creature that he was now. She crossed her arms across her chest, saying, "Don't think I'll ever think of ye any differently."
Bree looked to see how Jones would react to this. She was surprised to see a hurt expression in his face, but it was veiled by stoic indifference. She shrugged, spitting out, "Why so friendly all of a sudden? Just a few hours ago ye were tryin' to rip the hide from me back!"
Jones laughed softly, admitting at last, "Ye're one to be admired, Bree. A true rebel. But rebels never succeed here."
"Will Turner did!" Bree found herself blurting out.
Jones' eyes darkened, "He's dead."
Bree growled, "But the Kraken killed 'im! He still escaped! An' Sparrow? I don't see his soul anywhere!"
Jones faced Bree, stepping forward. Bree stepped back, but Jones snarled at her, "Sparrow is dead! The Kraken brought him an' his beloved Pearl back down to the depths she came from!"
Bree was silent for a moment, then sniffed, saying, "Still. He ain't in this livin' hell."
Jones stifled another smile. He wanted to know more about Bree! He had never before been this curious, but he asked her, "Surely ye had another name on the Goresail." A name that shows how wild ye are!
Bree averted her gaze, nodding, "Bad Luck Bree." Then she looked up at Jones again, her eyes on fire, "O' course I can see it fits! I ain't had anythin' but bad luck ever since the Goresail left Tortuga five months ago!"
Jones looked out over the rippling waves and said, "Don't think ye haven't brought any along wi' ye."
Bree instantly understood what he meant. And she was shocked.
Jones believed her! He thought she really didn't have the music box! He must have thought it had been lost overboard! Of course, the fact that she had taken a beating from the flat of a broadsword rather than give up the music box must have convinced him. Bree suddenly felt an ache in her heart, pity and compassion surging up. She had to force them back down, her stomach twisting into a knot.
Bree dared to reach out and put her hand on Jones' shoulder. Jones' head jerked around to look at her, and Bree felt her mouth go dry with fear. But she spoke, "I didn't…want to bring bad luck to ye…" Her mouth snapped shut. What was she saying? It's the blood-loss, she told herself.
Jones looked at her for a moment, and then brushed her hand aside. He snarled slightly, saying harshly, "Get back below! I'll expect to see ye workin' tomorrow!"
Bree, for once, didn't snarl back at her captain. She simply turned, walking back.
Jones clenched his claw. What was happening? His shoulder, where Bree had laid her hand, felt like it was burning. He was angry at her, that was it. She must have stolen his music box! But…she would have revealed it. She was such an honest, bright…no! She was a rotten little bilge rat! A sorry excuse for a female creature!
Jones growled, standing up straight. Tomorrow, he would get these feelings sorted out. He would assure Bree, and himself, that he truly hated her.

Bree rose early again that morning. She snuck up to the deck, making her way to the bow and climbing down to her hiding place. Sitting safely astride the bowsprits, Bree pulled out the music box. She was tempted to wind it up and play it, but sound carries across water, and if Jones heard it…she dare not think about it.
Bree looked at the music box for a long time, thinking. Could she possibly trade the music box for her medallion? No, Jones wouldn't let her get away with stealing it. She'd best keep it hidden. Tucking it back into the pouch, Bree leaned back, resting her mind and body.
Used to sleeping with one eye open, Bree glanced to the side. She saw a small rock formation near the starboard side, probably a sort of reef-like structure. It was tall enough to be considered a cliff. She was merely glancing at it when she saw the prow of a ship emerge from one side. Bree's eyes both fully opened. She watched as the ship slid back behind the rocks.
A wild idea formed in Bree's mind. She was undead, and could therefore swim without fear of drowning. The ship wasn't that far away. If she could speak with the captain, she could persuade them to hide behind the rocks until the Dutchman moved off.
Bree stood, peeking over onto the deck. No one but the watch near the stern. Bree grinned wildly. This was it!
Bree edged out further onto the bowsprits, and then, her heart beating wildly in her ears, she did a spectacular swan dive into the clear Caribbean waters. She was a good swimmer and diver and she hit the water with barely a splash or ripple. She struck out strongly, knowing that she was visible but also knew that she could stay beneath the surface for as long as she wished, now that she didn't have to take a breath.
As the sun fully rose, Bree had reached the rocks. She climbed as high as she could go and turned, looking for the ship. There it was. Her eyes grew wide and she nearly fell from the rock.