We're Only Human

.

"... More importantly, it is indeed a sad life that has never breathed deep this sweet, proliferous bouquet that is Tortuga, savvy?" Sparrow glanced back at Isabelle and Turner with a wide grin. "What do you think?"

Both looked around the lawless island of Tortuga, one with a wrinkled nose as the strong smells of rum, piss, and sex finally started to hit her. The noise level was almost deafening. Women, either prostitutes or just women looking to liven up their night, were stationed everywhere and called out to anyone that passed by, promising them a good time. Some were practically having sex in the middle of the street. Men were drinking large amounts of alcohol and singing nonsense songs, or fighting about trivial things, and some had even passed out from both. It certainly was different from Port Royal.

If it wasn't a fact that Isabelle was sick of being stuck on a ship for almost two days, she wouldn't have even step foot on the barbaric island.

"It'll linger," finally said Turner.

Grimacing as she had to step over a man who passed out in the street, Isabelle replied, "I feel like I need more than a few hot baths to rid myself of this stench."

"Ah, you'll get used to it, lass," said Sparrow with a chuckle. "I'll tell you though, if every town in the world were like this one, no man - or woman for that matter - would ever feel unwanted."

"I certainly don't," mumbled Isabelle as she glanced around. Men were staring at her as if they were a pack of hungry dogs and she was raw meat that they wouldn't mind tearing into. She kept her hands constantly hovering over the handle of her sword, just waiting for someone to try and grab her. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"If you say so... Ah, Scarlett!" said Sparrow, advancing toward a red head woman that was marching towards him, a very determined look on her face. She raised her hand and smartly brought it down, slapping Sparrow so hard his head snapped to the side.

Isabelle winced in sympathy as Scarlett huffed angrily before turning on her heel and moving off. "A friend of yours?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Not sure if I deserved that," muttered Jack as he cradled his cheek and looked forward just in time to see another woman, this one a blonde, marching up to him. He really should have seen what would happened next, but Sparrow simply grinned like an idiot. "Giselle."

"Who was that?" Giselle asked snappishly, her accent heavy as her make-up.

"What?" Sparrow said stupidly.

And then another slap to the other cheek made Sparrows head swing the opposite direction, and this time, Isabelle had no sympathy for him as he grimaced. "I may have deserved that one," he mumbled as Giselle stomped off.

"Well, that's the kind of greeting you get when you try and have a relationship with two women at the same time and suddenly leave them both without warning." Stepping forward out of an alley, another woman smirked and crossed her arms, showing off her slightly larger than normal chest. "Welcome back to Tortuga, Captain Jack. Its been far too long."

"Ah, Grace," said Sparrow, lifting his arms to try and give her a hug, but faltered when she gave him a look, taking a step back. "I didn't realize you were in Tortuga. Otherwise, I would have stayed far, far away."

"Mm, strange how I'd have done the same thing," said Grace, obviously sarcastic. She was perhaps Isabelle's age at twenty or twenty-one, with long brown hair that was messily pulled into a bun and dark blue eyes that were almost black. She was dressed in loose men's clothing, and besides carrying a sword, also had a pistol and a knife at her hip. "You best be glad that she doesn't know you're here yet - she's not happy with you. You know, for stealin' her ship and all."

"I'll remember that," said Sparrow with a loud gulp.

"So, are you gonna introduce me to your friends?" Grace asked, her gaze turning towards them.

"We aren't friends," said Turner. "More like... business partners."

"Will Turner and Isabelle Bennett," said Sparrow hesitantly, "Meet Grace Smith, the daughter of an old friend of mine... What?" he asked when Grace glared at him. "I introduced you!"

"But you didn't do it properly," Grace said with a shake of her head. "You forgot to mention that I'm co-captain of the Night Terror, which happens to be the only ship in the Caribbean with a completely female crew. I've also known Jack since before I was born." She said all this proudly before she stuck out her hand for them to shake. "Pleased to meet you both."

"But you're a woman!" said Isabelle before she could stop herself. "You can't be a pirate!"

Raising a dark eyebrow as she dropped her hand, Grace looked to Sparrow. "Where'd you get this one from, a nunnery? She can't be that naive?"

"She's... new to this kind of life style," said Sparrow with a shrug. "Daughter of some fancy Navy official, and she's only with me cause we're both going after the Black Pearl."

At that news, Grace visibly paled. "The Black Pearl? Jack, are you bloody mad? What reason could you have for going after a ship that even God has forsaken now? You know what, never mind," she said before Jack could answer. "I don't want to know. And talking about this in the middle of a crowded street is probably not the best idea, so maybe we should move inside, mm?"

"Good idea," said Isabelle. She'd rather be anywhere but out on this street.

"But wait, if you're going after the Pearl, why are you here in Tortuga?" asked Grace, frowning.

"I'm looking for a crew," said Jack. "Starting with me former first mate - Gibbs."

A grin appeared on Grace's face. "Well, lucky for you, I know just where to go. But you owe me a drink."

A few minutes later, after a slight detour to fill two buckets with water, Grace led them to what looked like a tavern called the Faithful Bride. Outside was a woman sitting casually on a crate even as men and women drunkenly passed by her. She looked up as they came by and gestured behind her. "He's still there," she said to Grace. "Could you do something about him? I swear, he smells worse than the pigs."

"Not a problem, Mary," said Grace with a nod before leading the three behind the tavern. The smell hit Isabelle's nose before she even saw the pigsty, her hand going up to cover her nose as she grimaced. Laying in the pen, using two pigs as pillows, was a middle aged man sleeping in the mud. Taking a bucket from Jack, Grace dumped the cold water over the man. "Gibbs, wake up!"

Sputtering, Gibbs brought out a knife as he looked wildly around for his 'attacker'. "Curse you for breathing, you slack-jawed idiot!" Then he caught of Grace and sighed. "Mother's love, Grace! You should know better than to wake a man when he's sleeping. It be bad luck."

Grace waved a hand in dismissal. "If bad luck hasn't caught up to me now, then I doubt it ever will." She grabbed the other bucket from Turner and dumped it on Gibbs, who yelped in shock and scrambled up, dripping wet.

"Blast it, I'm already awake!"

'That was for the smell," Grace said dryly. "Mary's right, ya smell worse than the pigs. Now get up, there's someone here to see yeh."

Scowling angrily, Gibbs suddenly blinked in surprise as Sparrow stepped forward, a grin creeping across his face. "Blimey, Jack! When did you get back in Port Royal?"

"That's not important," said Jack with a wave of his hand before patting Gibbs on the shoulder, wincing as he tried to discreetly shake off the dirty water before finally giving up and wiping it on his trousers. "Why don't I buy you a drink, eh? We have much to talk about."

"Don't forget, you still owe me a drink, Jack," spoke up Grace.

"Worry not, Gracie, I get ya one. Ah, I remember the days when your mum wouldn't even let you touch a drop of rum," said Jack with a sigh.

"That didn't stop you from sneaking it to me when I turned sixteen," replied Grace with a snap, even as she grinned.

"And what are we supposed to do?" asked Turner finally, gesturing to himself and Isabelle, who was still trying not to throw up due to the smell. It was actually starting to make her a little dizzy, and she wondered if she should have stayed back on the ship.

"You look a little sick, girly," said Grace sympathetically. "Jack, you better get her something to calm her stomach down - maybe a pint of rum will do."

"No, thank you," said Isabelle as she shook her head, holding back a groan when that seemed to make her feel worse. Rum was the last thing she needs. "I think some tea maybe..." she asked hopefully. Or maybe that was too much to ask for.

Giving her a strange look, Grace finally shrugged. "Sure. A friend of mine is running the tavern - I'm sure he wouldn't mind rummaging up some tea. And you don't worry, Jack," she said while walking away. "She's not around. She's looking after someone for me."

For some reason, Sparrow breathed a sigh of relief before following, earning confused looks from the remaining three.

Sometime later, Isabelle found herself sitting at a small table, gratefully taking a tin cup of tea from the female pirate with a quiet thanks. She took a slow sip - the tea was weak, but still better than the alternative. But now the noise level around her was giving her a pounding headache, as if she had just downed more than a few tankards of rum. She glanced at Sparrow and Gibbs, who were sitting off in the middle of the room, and wondered how long they were going to take. Turner was not far away, apparently on the watch for possible danger.

"You sure are the princess type, aren't ya?" said Grace as she twisted the seat across from her around before plopping into it, resting her arms and chin on its back.

"I beg your pardon?" asked Isabelle, earning a laugh from Grace.

"That's exactly what I mean," Grace said once she was done laughing. "Lemme guess, you've probably never even ventured away from home till now, and were probably content with just sitting inside sewing and gossiping with your little friends."

"Well, I have to admit, you are half right," admitted Isabelle with a nod of her head. "I've never left home save for when I was very young and we moved to Port Royal from London, and it wasn't a... pleasant experience, or at least one that I never want to repeat. But I was not content at all with sitting at home. I can't sew to save my life, and those girls that are content to gossip are liable to drive me mad."

"So what did you do to keep yourself entertained?" asked Grace with a purr.

Blushing, Isabelle answered, "I read or practiced my fencing."

"Ah, a swordswoman at heart! Mmm, maybe you're not so bad after all, girly," Grace said with a smirk. "Maybe a little naive still, but we can't have everything I guess."

"I am not naive!" squeaked Isabelle angrily.

"Than tell me, why can't I be a pirate?" asked Grace with a raised eyebrow. "Just because I'm a woman?" When Isabelle didn't answer, she scoffed and shook her head. "And that is why you're naive. Times are hard, and women finding jobs, besides whoring out, is harder. Many women have become pirates, but have to hide it by dressing in men's clothes. I just happen to make it more open that I am a female pirate, and that if any female wishes to join my crew, they can. Besides, what about you? You're a swordswoman," she pointed out. "Most don't agree with that than they do with pirating."

Opening her mouth, Isabelle closed it promptly a short moment later. She never thought of it that way. She knew most women didn't participate in such activities, that's why people thought of her as strange and crude, but her father had agreed to it, and even pushed it, so she hadn't questioned it at all. "Why can't you just marry?" asked Isabelle a moment later, reminded of her own engagement to Norrington. "Than you wouldn't have to worry about stealing to survive anymore..." A man would take care of her. That what she was taught since she was a young girl.

Grace's look darkened. "That is also not an option," she said simply. "Not anymore."

Even though she didn't understand, Isabelle simply nodded and sipped at her tea, ignoring the fact that it was starting to get cold. "Do you know what they could be talking about?" she asked, tilting her head towards Sparrow and Gibbs.

"Honestly? No idea," said Grace with a shrug, looking a little happier now that they were changing the subject. "Sparrow's probably asking Gibbs to become his first mate again and filling him in on the reason why going after the Black Pearl." Pausing for a moment, she studied Isabelle. "What's your reason for going after that cursed ship?"

"They took my brother," said Isabelle softly. "He's only ten..."

Her face softening, the pirate nodded in understanding. "And we'll do anything for our loved ones, won't we, girly?"

Isabelle answered with a small nod and a smile.

"Oi, Gracie!"

Perking up at the sound of her name, Grace stood just as a woman with a baby in her arms came to their table. "My sweet Emma, what are you doing here?" she asked the little girl she took into her arms, giving her a loud kiss on her forehead. "I thought Grammy Bell was watching you?"

Smiling brightly, Emma, who shared her mother's dark hair but must have gained her father's bright green eyes, giggled, "Mumma! Foun' Mumma!"

"Is this your daughter?" asked Isabelle. When Grace smiled and nodded, she went on with, "She's a beautiful girl. How old is she?"

"Just about a year old now," said Grace as she cooed at her little girl. "Oh, she's the love of me life. Yes she is, yes she is!"

"Glad to see I'm so important," said another woman with a roll of her eyes, though she still smiled. At least in her late thirties or early forties, she had long and wild auburn hair, that was topped with a hat with a feather, and that went well with her dark brown eyes. "She wouldn't stop looking for you." She groaned. "God, I need rum, I forgot how hard it is to keep up with someone that has much energy. I ain't young anymore."

"Um, Mum, there's something you need to know," started Grace slowly, but it seemed the woman had already found a problem, her brown eyes lit with dark flames as they landed on someone while her mouth worked into a deadly snarl.

"You!" she shouted, loud enough that the entire tavern went deadly silent. "You bloody bastard!"

Out of the corner of her eye, Isabelle watched as Sparrow's head snapped towards the voice, and he paled instantly. "Oh, bugger."

Marching forward, the woman didn't give Sparrow the chance to run before she pulled her fist back and soundly punched him in the jaw, knocking him out his seat and to the ground with a clatter. She towered over him, her fists on her hips as she snapped, "Where the hell have you been? I haven't seen you in over two years, only know your alive by rumors. And suddenly I see you in my bar, drinking my rum, without even trying to say hello to me! I bet you didn't even pay for it, did you?"

"Of course I paid for it, Arabella," said Jack quickly, scrambling away. "Um, hello?"

"Oh no, you don't," hissed Arabella, grabbing Jack by the back of his jacket to prevent him from escaping. "You're not going anywhere, not till we have a nice little talk about how you stole my ship and never brought her back! Where is she, Jack? Please tell me you didn't wreck her!"

"Mother, calm down," said Grace firmly, pulling back the angry pirate by the arm, the baby sitting on her hip starting to whimper at the sight of her grandmother fighting. "I understand you're angry. But let's not make a scene, alright? Why don't we take this somewhere else?"

Glaring at both Sparrow and her daughter, Arabella was silent for a few long moments before pulling her arm back. "Fine," she snapped. "I don't care we have it. But we're still having this "talk" right now."

Nodding, Grace glanced to Turner, who was watching the scene with wide eyes. "Will, would you mind taking Isabelle back to your ship while we talk?" she asked. "I promise that we'll send back Jack in one piece when we're done with him."

"I can't," growled Arabella.

"Sure," said Turner with a nod. "Miss Bennett?"

"Just try not to hurt him too badly," said Isabelle dryly as they turned to leave, ignoring a choked cry from Sparrow. "He's working for me now, and I hate to replace him this late in."

The only thing she got as a answer was a laugh and a whimper.

Sometime after they returned to the Interceptor, Isabella made her way down to the cells, with a tray of food for Norrington. She also brought a lit lantern for him to see by, hanging it on a nearby hook before she look over to her locked up fiance. "Norrington?"

The Commodore was sitting in a corner, both his coat and wig tossed into a corner. He didn't even bother glancing her way. Sighing, Isabelle set down the tray, laden with simple food and water, and slid it under the bars. "I know it's not very fancy, but I don't know how to cook anything. Someone else has always done the cooking for me."

When it got to the point that it was clear she wouldn't receive a answer, Isabelle sat down on the floor, tucking her legs under herself and smoothing down her skirt with shaky hands. "I can understand if you're angry with me," she said softly. "I would be too if I was in your position. But you have to understand, I didn't know what else to do. You didn't want to ask Sparrow for his help, and he knew where the Black Pearl was heading. My brother is on that ship, alone and scared, and I can't just let him go without a fight. Even if that means resorting to piracy."

"And I never meant for you to get into this mess," Isabelle went on. "You were supposed to just stay ashore or go to the other ship to look for me. Not stay here. That was never the plan. So you can't imagine how horrified I was, how angry I am at myself. It's my fault your here." She bowed her head. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, James."

"...I'm sure your father would think apologizing is a sign of weakness," Norrington finally spoke, still staring at the wall across from him.

Blinking a few times, Isabelle couldn't help but laugh softly. "Yes, he does. He hates it when people do."

Norrington looked her way. "What are you going to tell your father about this? Had he been here during the kidnapping, he would never agree to dealing with pirates, even if it was for... for the safety of his own son."

"I don't really know," answered Isabelle after a long moment. "He'll probably punish me in someway." Silently, she wouldn't doubt some kind of harsh punishment, perhaps he would lock her away for awhile. He done it before, and he'd do it again. "But," she said with a casual shrug, acting as it was no big deal, "it would be worth it, right? My brother would be safe."

"I won't let your father do anything to harm you, Isabelle," said Norrington firmly, as if reading her mind and seeing what her father would do. "I promise you that."

Even as she smiled and gave her quiet thanks, Isabelle couldn't help but doubt her fiance. No one ever defended her from her father since her mother died. She wasn't expecting that to change now.

The couple sat in silence for awhile as Norrington took his tray and started eating slowly. It was a sharp contrast to what they used to do when they were little; racing around, sneaking food from the kitchens, and playing games. But it was so long ago, and Isabelle couldn't help but feel like those children had grown up into two completely different people. She didn't even know Norrington... James anymore.

"Thank you for the meal," said Norrington as he slid the tray back to her. Startled out of her thoughts, Isabelle smiled out of reflex and took the tray, standing so she could wash it and return it to the rightful place. She could at least do that.

"Isabelle, why do you even need to go back?" suddenly asked her fiance as she turned away. "You're far away from your father now, you don't have to go back or listen to him anymore."

You don't have to marry me.

"I..." Isabelle swallowed heavily. "I don't know," she finally answered before quickly leaving the hold, thinking that this might be a good time for some sleep.

~o0o~

"Ow..."

"Oh, quit whining, you big baby," snapped Arabella, even as she gently pressed a soaked rag against his slightly red and purple cheek. They were currently in her private room in the Faithful Bride, her daughter and grandchild going to their own room to get some sleep. "I didn't punch you that hard." Well, maybe she did, but he deserved it.

"Did you have to punch me at all?" asked Jack as he placed his hand over the rag, letting Arabella withdraw hers so she could sit down in the chair across from him. "I know its been five years, but -"

"Last time I saw you was when you asked to borrow my ship, the Blue Rose," said Arabella, stressing it. "And I never got it back. Now you're telling me that someone blew it up! Do you know how bloody expensive it is to buy a new boat, Sparrow?"

"Situations arose," mumbled Jack.

"Uh huh. Whatever the reasons, you owe me a new ship, or at least the amount of gold it will take to buy a new ship," Arabella informed him. Smirking as Jack groaned in defeat, she grabbed her bottle of rum off the table and took a swig before asking, "What have you been up to in the last five years? Still looking for the Pearl?"

"Aye."

"And after ten years, you're not at all closer?" Why wasn't she surprised?

"On the contrary," said Jack with a smirk. "I know for a fact they're headed for Isla de Muerta at this very moment, and soon as I gather a crew, I'm following them."

"Is that so?" said Arabella, raising an eyebrow. "And how exactly are you planning on getting your ship back from Barbossa? You and I both know he ain't the type to bargain, and I doubt you have anything he wants."

"But I do," said Jack confidently. When Arabella waved at him to go on, he said, "You remember me telling you about the curse that I found out was placed on Barbossa and the crew when they took that gold? That they couldn't get rid of it without each coin and the blood of each crew member?"

"I remember," Arabella said with a nod.

"They've finally found the last coin," Jack revealed. "But they're still missing one thing - the blood of Bootstrap Bill." He shook his head. "They killed a good man... I still miss him sometimes."

Biting the inside of her cheek, Arabella nodded. "I miss him, too," she admitted. The three of them had been close, long before Jack became captain of anything, when they first started out as pirates. Both she and Bill had an even closer relationship that they kept secret from Jack, and the news of his death had hit her hard. "How do they think they're gonna get his blood?" she couldn't help but ask.

"They've been looking for the next best thing," answered Jack. "His child."

Startled, Arabella went wide eyed. "His child -"

"And I found him," Jack went on proudly, not noticing Arabella's shock. "Out in Port Royal - went there to look for Bill when his mum died."

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Arabella set down her bottle before slowly asking, "Bill's son? You found him?"

Jack nodded. "Aye. You saw him earlier - the boy that Grace sent away earlier after you hit me... Bell, are you alright?" he suddenly asked, concern obviously in his eyes. "You don't look very good, love."

"Oh God," whispered Arabella, her mind was racing as she tried to remember the boy that Grace had called Will. "That - That was his son? How old is he?"

"Almost twenty, I think," said Jack even as he frowned. "Bell, what's wrong?"

Shaking her head, Arabella covered her face with her hands. "I can't believe it," she muttered. Bill had a son. A boy that was almost as old as Grace. Did he look like his father? Would she see Bill the next time she looked at his face? "I never told him," she said after a moment.

"I never told you or Bill a lot of things," said Jack. "But I didn't start panicking over it. What is it?"

"... It's about Grace," finally admitted Arabella, the secret she'd been keeping to herself for the past twenty two years pouring out before she could stop it. "I never told anyone, not even him. He ended the relationship before I even knew."

"Bell..."

"We never told you," Arabella babbled on. "We were going to, but it never seemed like the right time. And then he left for home, and then I found out that... that I was pregnant with Grace. And I never told him. When he came back, he told me he was married and I didn't want to ruin it for him. He just always assumed I'd found someone new after he left..." Tears rolled down Arabella's cheeks, and she wiped them away hastily. "Oh God. What I am going to do now?"

"You need to explain this a little better, Arabella," said Jack firmly. "Just calm down."

Taking a few deep breathes, Arabella started to explain. "Bill and I had a relationship - more than what you knew. I thought he was going to ask me to marry him. But then he suddenly broke it off, and went back home. I was a mess for a while and then I realized that... that I was pregnant. By the time Bill came back, Grace was already born, and I was going to tell him she was his. Before I could, he started telling us about his wife, and about his son... and I... I just couldn't. He was obviously in love, even though he had to leave them. I just told both of you that I didn't know the father."

"Are you saying that Grace - your Grace - is Bill's first child?" asked Jack slowly.

Arabella nodded.

"So that means... Grace and Will are half-siblings?"

Another nod.

"Oh, Arabella..." said Jack sympathetically.

"I should have never been with Bill," said Arabella bitterly, wiping away more tears. "I know it was a bad idea, and at the time I wish I knew. But at the time, I just thought I loved him so much." She scoffed. "I should have know that I was just being a love sick idiot."

"No, Bella," Jack said soothingly, "you were only acting human. We can't stop ourselves from loving someone, even if we learn later on it was the wrong person to love. And besides, if you hadn't been with Bill, you wouldn't have gotten Grace and her new little girl - what was it, Emma? She a beauty, just like her mum."

Sniffling, Arabella laughed a little. "When did you get so damn smart, Jack?"

Shrugging, Jack took the bottle and took a few gulps. "What I can't believe is that little Gracie has her own little girl. It seems just like yesterday that she was begging me to play 'pirate' with her." He chuckled. "She's probably gonna be a spitfire just like her mum and grandmum..." An awkward silence followed for a long moment before he asked, "Are you going to tell them - young William and Grace I mean - about their shared dear old father?"

"I don't know," admitted Arabella as she grabbed the bottle back before he could drink it all. "I guess that I should tell Grace at least. She deserves to know and she's old enough now. But..." She shook her head as Jack stood and got his own bottle. "How do I tell him about something like this? 'Oh, hello Will. Would you like a drink? How's the weather? By the way, your father and I shagged before you were born and now you have a half sister and a little niece.' Aye, that sounds bloody brilliant."

"Maybe you don't need to tell him," said Jack, sitting back down and taking a long gulp of rum. "He's been fine without a sister and niece til now. It might be better for him to stay that way."

"Maybe... And what about you?" asked Arabella with a narrowed glare. "Are you really going to use Bill's son, the only son of one of our friends, just so you can get your damn ship back?"

"Can't see another way," said Jack with a shrug. "'sides, he's already going along with it. Not for my ship though, he's in it 'cause he's trying to save his damsel in distress. Although I'm sure he'll be happy to learn that he'll be getting revenge on the men that killed his father."

"So you're going to tell him about that at least?"

Jack didn't answer for a long moment. "He already knows his father was a pirate. Might as well let him know he died trying be one of the few good ones."

"I'll drink to that," said Arabella, lifting her bottle in salute. Jack mimicked her before they each took a long sip. They sat in a comfortable silence for a long few minutes before Arabella stood up, ready to find her daughter and finally tell her who her father was.

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