Author's Note:

Just think; this'd be the bonus chapter of the series' previous instalment. Hurray for long action- and drama-packed stories! (Especially those of the Treasure Planet variety)…

It took the town guard many hours to rifle through what was left of the Townsend-Clarke Estate to find the bodies of the deceased after the fire had subsided. The fire had spared nothing, every room and piece of ornate furniture reduced to ash and charcoal, except the barely recognizable corpses of those that had been killed. Only a skeletal frame of the mansion remained, providing fencing for a new graveyard.

Morning came on Treaka and Rebecca worked hard through the day, arranging for workers to clear the area and planning sites in which to bury her loved ones. She spoke little to her comrades, determined to finish what she had begun.

Before the blood-red sun could begin to set, the commoners and visitors who had been killed were buried in orderly rows; their loved ones mourning at the mounds of freshly dug dirt.

Six graves set in a line were before Rebecca. The young woman stood at the highest point of the Townsend-Clarke Estate, a small hill that was situated behind the mansion. She reminisced the days of her childhood during which she and her brothers had played on the hill in the spring, while the flowers were in bloom.

Now, the cold of autumn swept across the hill, scattering a few multi-hued leaves around the area. Rebecca knelt before the grave on the farthest right. Serenity Williams, Sebastian's beloved and bearing their first child, never to have it. So loyal to loving her husband that she sacrifice her own life to be with him in death. Rebecca took out a silver chain with an amethyst carved into a small flower, setting it down at the base of the headstone. It had been an anniversary gift that Sebastian was planning to give to Serenity, so it seemed fit that she'd have it now.

To the left of Serenity's grave was Sebastian's. Even in death, her oldest brother was at his wife's side. He had given his life to try and protect his wife, but now they rested together. Rebecca placed the only thing of Sebastian's that she could find when shifting through the rubble of her home, his compass. Hopefully it would guide his soul to the peace that it deserved.

Next was Giles's grave. Rebecca felt tears come to her eyes at the thought of her middle brother. No doubt that his fiancée would soon be receiving news of his death. She remembered the look on her rebellious and carefree brother's face. He had been so deeply in love with Brianna Hart, and Rebecca knew that the reverse was true as well. Rebecca pressed the iron cross that Giles had been awarded for heroic actions in the war into the dirt.

Next was Denton's grave. Rebecca sighed, her youngest brother had always been the voice of reason whenever her other brothers had their squabbles. He had defended her whenever other boys said that she couldn't play with them, being a girl, stating that she could probably beat them all at any game any way. Rebecca smiled, smoothing her hand over the top of the headstone and placing Denton's pistol in the soft dirt. Hopefully it would protect him from anything in the afterlife that might try to harm him.

Next was her father's grave. Tears fell from Rebecca's eyes as she fell to her knees. It had been her father that had convinced her mother to let her go exploring. He withheld the commanding but gentle voice in the house and was always willing to see both sides of a story. Rebecca unsheathed her father's sword and laid it on the dirt mound.

Finally, the grave the farthest to the right was her mother's. Rebecca sighed. Maybe this wouldn't have happened if she had listened to her mother's orders. If she had never left home, then maybe they'd all still be alive. Rebecca removed the silver cross that she had been wearing all day as a symbol of her mourning and she placed it in the dirt of the grave.

Rebecca stood up and looked at all of the graves, the afternoon sun fell behind her, casting her shadow upon the graves. She thought about what had happened. How fast everything had happened. How she had been unable to save the ones she loved dearly.

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

"Yeh don't 'ave teh be sorry, Rebecca." John's voice answered from behind her.

Rebecca glanced behind her at the young man, her eyes filled with tears. She wondered how long he had been standing there. Or how long that she had been standing at the graves for the matter.

"There's no way in the Etherium that this was yer fault." John walked up the small hill, standing before Rebecca.

A tear fell from each of Rebecca's eyes as she looked back at the graves. "Then why do I feel like it is?" She asked, wrapping her arms around herself.

"When someone who's special teh us dies, we feel a need teh justify their death." John explained. "Most of the time that involves pinning the blame on someone, which is usually ourselves." He looked at the graves and sighed, "we ask ourselves, what could we 'ave done teh prevent 'em from dying?"

Rebecca looked at John, knowing that he spoke from experience. "What do I do, John?"

John shrugged. "Let it all out." He stated. "Yeh'll feel a lot better."

"What?" Rebecca looked at John, bewildered. "So crying about will make it all better, like some child?" The young woman shook her head, unable to stop the tears that were falling from her eyes. "It doesn't work like that, John! Nothing will get better by blubbering like a child, nothing will-" She had to cut herself off as a sob forced its way from her lips and she fell to her knees, crying uncontrollably.

John knelt down in front of Rebecca and pulled her against him, wrapping his arms around her. Rebecca continued crying into John's chest.

"It hurts…" Rebecca choked out as her body shook with sobs, "it hurts… so much."

"I know, Rebecca." John eased a hand through Rebecca's raven-black hair. He rocked her back and forth, calming her down as he held her close.

She cried not only for her family, but for having fought against pirates when she was captured only to have them take away what she cared about the most. Rebecca clung to the front of John's shirt, wanting the sensation of closeness to never leave her. To never lose the soothing sensation from John's calming demeanour as she listened to the beating of his heart.

John held Rebecca against him, wanting all of her pain to fade away. He just wanted to see her smile again, to hear her laugh and to know that she was happy. He could feel the warm sun against his back as the last of the sun's rays melted over the horizon, casting dark shadows upon the graves of those who had died.

Rebecca's body relaxed in John's arms and John looked down at her, realizing that she had cried herself to sleep. He rested Rebecca's head in the crook of his arm and gently wiped the tear tracks from her cheeks. 'How could something so horrible happen teh someone like Rebecca?'

He stood with Rebecca in his arms and carried her through the graveyard that was once her home, all the way down to the main road leading to Port Hastings. The young man stepped into a taxi carriage and gave the driver the directions to his dock. John laid Rebecca's head in his lap and looking out the window, watching the last of the sunlight disappear as night began to descend upon the port town.

Rebecca woke up in her bed on the HMS Aurora. She wondered how she had gotten into her bed and looked around. There was barely any light coming through the porthole, so she assumed that it was well past sunset. She sat up in her bed, grabbed something from under her pillow and got to her feet.

The young woman poked her head out of her room, looking around. The ship felt oddly silent. Empty. Rebecca walked down the corridor to John's stateroom. The door was slightly ajar and a warm lantern light came from within.

Rebecca opened the door, knocking lightly on the doorframe as she entered the room and looked around. John looked up from the desk he was sitting at, a half-emptied bottle of rum in one hand.

"Oh, you're up…" He sighed. The weariness on his face aged him well past his years, as if he had been through a thousand miseries.

Rebecca sat across from John. "What are you thinking about?" She enquired.

John exhaled. "How many bottles of rum I'm gonna need teh forget all that's happened."

"Well." Rebecca pulled out a crystal bottle of brandy. "Misery loves company."

"How'd yeh get that?" John asked, surprised that Rebecca –of all people- would have such a thing.

Rebecca's smile faded. "Giles's old stash." She looked away. "It…" Rebecca paused to collect herself; "It was the only thing of his that survived the fire." She looked up. "I've got more in my room."

John raised his eyebrows in interest. "Really?"

"Drink up me hearties yo-ho!" John and Rebecca merrily stumbled down the corridors of the empty HMS Aurora -arm in arm- singing like there was no tomorrow.

Rebecca giggled as John pulled her into his quarters. She stumbled across the room, plopping her self into the chair behind the desk and downed the last of her brandy.

She smiled amorously to John. "Another glass, kind sir, if you please." The intoxicated woman held out her tumbler to her drunken companion.

"All right…" John slurred, elbowing the door to the bedroom closed, "but that's the last of it!" the young man emptied what was left in the bottle of brandy into Rebecca's tumbler. He drank up the few drops of liquid left in the bottle before tossing it aside.

"Tonight, we give a toast!" Rebecca proclaimed.

"A toast?" John raised an eyebrow.

"A toast: to death!" Rebecca exclaimed and then looked deeply into her glass. "For it is the single battle that not even the best of us –no matter how clever we are- can win." She held up her tumbler for a moment's pause.

"Teh death indeed." John clinked his bottle of rum against Rebecca's crystal tumbler and the two drained their drinks.

Rebecca set her empty crystal tumbler onto a John's desk and stumbled to her feet.

"We should… dance… the night away!" Rebecca fell inelegantly against John while the drunken young man tried to keep them both standing. He let the empty rum bottle slip from his fingers and clank against the floorboards before rolling away.

John chuckled; "I think yeh 'ave 'ad too much teh drink, Miss Clarke…" he then swept Rebecca off of her feet and tossed her onto his bed.

Rebecca squealed as she landed on John's comfortable bed. She leaned against the pillows of the bed and smiled up to the young man. "No more than you, Mister Silver."

"Yeh should get some sleep." John stated, his coal-black eyes twinkling from the alcohol-induced bliss.

"But I don't wanna sleep!" Rebecca giggled.

"Well then." John sat down on the opposite side of the bed, "I'll just 'ave teh wait right 'ere…" he lounged next to the young woman, propping his head up on a fist, "…'til yeh fall asleep."

Rebecca locked eyes with John. "I don't want to sleep." She whispered more seriously.

There was a short pause between the two young adults before they locked lips. Rebecca moaned gently, twisting her hands around the fabric of John's shirt as he cupped her face with his free hand.

They separated. "Yeh know…" John started, breathless from the passionate kiss. "I don't think I wanna get teh sleep, either." He tossed his jacket to the floor and pulled Rebecca into another heated embrace.

Author's Note:

Ooh… Thank you Whisperwings, you are awesome and you know it!

MG#6