Down the Rabbit Hole

by AshTree13

When Tessa wakes up on the shores of Cape Bonavista, she knows something's wrong - especially since she was supposed to be hacking into Abstergos mainframe. Thrown back to a time when pirates ruled the sea, Tessa struggles to survive the pirate way of life. Yet, as she sinks deeper into the world and opens her heart, she finds that maybe this was where she was meant to be all along

27. Chapter 24

A/N: I really wanted to finish this chapter by christmas... but clearly, that did not happen. Then I aimed to finish it by new years... only to remember that I was going on a road trip with my family and my laptop was being left behind; not that it mattered, I was the only one throughout the entire trip who had no internet connection and I wasted my data during the first four days or so. Then I figured, February - I couldn't count on January because of my heavy work schedule BUT a trip to Japan had me put it aside AGAIN... I have never been so frustrated in my life! _

BUT! I have managed to get it done and here it is! I hope you're all still looking forward to it :)

Once again, a huge thank you to all of you who read this fanfic :3 It honestly makes me so proud and so happy to see so many people enjoying what I write :) It's been my dream since I was little to be a writer and to see so many people enjoying this gives me hope that if I were to write my own original story, that people would enjoy that too. Knowing that there are many of you who are eagerly awaiting (I hope) for the next chapter, makes writing this fanfic 100x more rewarding and enjoyable if I didn't have that. Thank you for your reviews and thank you for all of your patience :)

I've rambled on enough.

- AshTree13 xoxo

P.S the poem I have used as my inspiration is also at the end of the chapter, for any of you who want to read the whole poem without my little edits. It's a lovely poem, and has always been one of my favourites so please check of Henry Lawson's complete The Cross-Roads after finishing my chapter :) ENJOY my lovelies xx

---

Once more I write a line to you,

While darker shadows fall;

Dear friends of mine who have been true,

And steadfast through it all...

The bitter things are written now,

And we must let them go...

The friendships that I have abused,

The trust I did betray...

The gifts I threw away...

But you might deem them answered now,

And answer from my heart...

But I have done with barren strife,

And dark imaginings...

[I] will seek the better things.

- Henry Lawson, 'The Cross-Roads' -

---

Chapter 24:

Surprises - there are both the good and the bad.

This was certainly one of the good.

With my arms outstretched, I carefully navigate the narrow plank of wood that stretches between Thatch's newest ship - a former slave frigate that had once belonged to the British, or so I had been told and had been armed to the teeth, the perfect pirate ship to strike fear into the hearts of sailors everywhere... the perfect pirate ship for the most frightening pirate on the seas - the Queen Anne's Revenge and the Jackdaw, incredibly conscious of the fact that just bellow my feet was the beautiful blue sea. Behind me, the Jackdaw's crew readied the diving bell for submersion, checking every nook and cranny for any fault because if the submersible was to go under with some sort of error, the results could be detrimental. Honestly, I shuddered to think what might occur if Edward went down with a faulty bell - he wouldn't last long if he didn't have an immediate escape route, even with the extra air barrels that we would provide. The crew had told me stories about sunken treasure fleets and the various attempts made to reclaim the buried treasure; few had been successful, primarily because beneath the surface of the ocean there were various dangers like eels hiding behind chests and scores of jellyfish floating with the current... though, the biggest danger were perhaps the sharks that had made the wreck their home. I can easily recall the tales my brother had told me, about the torpedoing of the USS Indianapolis and the sinking of the Nova Scotia, in which many of the survivors were killed by the fatal bites of Oceanic Whitetips and although I love sharks - after all, they are fascinating creatures - their bites could be fatal.

As far as surprises go, I think as I jump off the plank and onto the Queen Anne's deck, stretching my arms up behind my head, a shark bite is certainly one of the more... distasteful ones.

But like I said, this surprise was a good one.

I can feel the smile curling the corners of my lips as my eyes fixate on a very familiar figure and, although I tried to maintain all propriety when I first spotted him in the distance, I abandon it all now to run across the somewhat crowded deck and throw my arms around Stede Bonnet's neck. With a loud oomph, I feel Stede wrap his arms around my waist and hug me back just as fiercely, stumbling back a couple of steps from the force of our collision. And as Stede spun me around in a circle, barely able to keep his own excitement in check, I could not help but let out a twinkling laugh to express my own.

"I can't believe it's you, Miss North," Stede chuckles, holding me at arms length as his squinty hazel eyes study my face intently, "my goodness, the West Indies is a compact place!"

"It's so good to see you again, Mr. Bonnet," I say with a smile and another hug. "But... what's with the eyepatch."

"I was trying to be... I don't know? More piratey? Is that a even a thing... is that even a word? And it's Stede," he immediately corrects and I can't help but laugh at the familiarity of it.

"Well, first off," I say, raising a finger as I tick of my answers to his seemingly never ending questions, "no. It's not a word. Two, it's not a thing... not really... and third, if you wish to be Stede - although Bonnet just seems to roll off the tongue much better - then you shall have to call me Tessa. That way, we're even. Deal?"

"You drive a hard bargain... but I accept."

With a bemused smile and a quick shake of my head, I wrap my arms around Bonnet's pudgy body and give it another squeeze, somewhat surprised by my excitement. We hadn't known each other very long and our short acquaintance had ended with Edward and I being taken into custody and tossed aboard a save ship bound for Spain - ah, the memories. If I were to be honest, I hadn't thought I'd ever meet Stede again but now that I had, I was thrilled; I mean, he was such a kind, gentle soul... he was hard to dislike. And it honestly felt like, despite the time apart, that it had been only yesterday Stede and I were in a small tailor, trying on row after row of fabric and dresses and toasting to our future successes at one of the lesser known taverns in Havana.

It really was good to see such a friendly face.

"Edward!" Stede calls, sidestepping me with an enthusiastic sparkle in his eyes and a frantic wave of his hands, "Edward! It is you, right?"

"Who else could it be?" Edward calls back from the helm of the Jackdaw, leaning against the gleaming, scarred wood with a lazy smirk and a cheerful salute, "Allo, Bonnet. A surprise seeing you out here."

"A nice surprise," I interject, squeezing the gentlemans' upper arm, "but how did you end up here of all places? And with one of the most fearsome pirate captains to boot?"

"Didn't a certain someone say that the pirate life just wasn't for him? To free for a man of responsibility," Edward teases.

"It's a long story..." Stede admits, ruefully scratching at the back of his head and shrugging his somewhat narrow and slender shoulders, "the short of it is that I met Mister Thatch a month or so ago and he offered to take me under his yardarms, so to speak." He gives a somewhat troubled smile and Thatch, whose lounging on a nearby crate, tosses him a green bottle filled with, what I assume, is rum - and if not rum, some sort of alcoholic beverage because that's the only way Thatch would do it. After all, it's totally overrated to be sober; right? Fiddling with the bottle, Bonnet ruffles the back of his head and says somewhat sheepishly, "Says I must wash the hayseed from my hair before I am a true pirate."

"Gotta say, Lass," Thatch tells me, rolling his dark eyes, "this is either the biggest challenge of my career... or the worst bloody mistake I've ever made."

And though I know from the curl of his lips and the mischevious sparkle in his eye, that the man is joking, I can't help but roll my own blue-green eyes and sigh exaggeratedly, leaning over to land a reasonably soft punch on the fearsome pirates forearm. "Oh, don't be an ass. Stede's awesome - awkward? Yes. But totally awesome."

Flushing red right to the tips of his corn-blond hair, Stede shuffles his feet and, with his gaze trained to the floor, mumbles a soft thank you in my general direction.

Pacing the deck of the Jackdaw, Edward laughs - the rich sound filling the air, causing shivers to race up my spine - and shakes his head. "Well," he says with a fond smile and a tilt of his chin, "good luck to you then. Worse men have become better under Blackbeard's watch."

"From the mouth of one of the lot," Thatch smirks, raising another bottle - this one open - to Edward before downing almost half in a single gulp. Following his captain's example, Bonnet pulls out the cork of his own bottle and takes a sip... promptly gagging on the liquid moments later. Sympathetically, I pat the coughing 'pirate' on the back, certain that when Bonnet had attempted to drink the alcohol, he had assumed it would be like the prime beverages we'd indulged in when last in Havana... it didn't help that the man himself was a very light drinker, well... from what I could recall anyway.

"On a more important note," I say after a moment has passed, still rubbing Bonnet's back as the man hacked and coughed and spluttered and tried to make himself appear somewhat unaffected by the strength of the drink Thatch was chugging down like water, "did you have any luck finding medicine here in the wrecks?"

"Nothing 'round this spot," Thatch informs Edward and I, flipping the bottle over and giving it an impatient shake as if it would magically transform the last few drops into more liquor. Tossing aside the bottle, Thatch looks over at Edward. "But there's a few wrecks yonder that haven't been scoured by nothing but crabs and coral. My first mate mentioned that the San Ignacio wreck is just a couple of clicks in that direction... treasure and medicines, suppose to be small trove just lying beneath the sea. Was going to check it out myself but since your hear..."

"I'll have a look," Edward says with a decisive nod, already turning away to change the ships direction - Adéwalé was already barking out the orders for the Jackdaws imminent departure. "We'll reconvene with you in an hour, two tops... would you like to join me?"

It took me a moment to realise that he was addressing me, with that last question. It had been some time since we had actually held a decent conversation, one that was civil and didn't end with the now annoyingly familiar burn of tears behind my eyes... to even look at me and hold my gaze was, in my books, a huge accomplishment; and yet I had to go an stick my foot into my mouth.

Fucking things up seems to be a speciality of mine, lately.

"I think I'll sit this one out," I find myself saying, almost as if I weren't in control of the words that were coming out of my mouth, the words my lips were forming. "I can swim but I'm not particularly strong... and it's not like I can hold my breath as long as you can; with the limited number of air barrels we have it'll be difficult to find our target if we have to continually resurface for air. I think I'll just observe, maybe catch up with Bonnet since I haven't seen him since Havana and it'd be nice to catch up and... yeah."

Oh my god, kill me now!

"Then I leave Tessa in your capable hands," Edward says to Thatch, turning away with a hand raised in farewell and no further acknowledgement to me. And, just as before, my heart ached hearing Tessa come out of his rather handsome mouth instead of his affectionate nickname, the one I always told him off about; it was strange, not hearing it for so long.

Clearly, I had become accustomed to Tess.

What a stupid thing to do, I thought, bring my face in my hands as my cheeks burned red with embarrassment and irritation.

"Tessa?" Bonnet asks softly, startling me out of my thoughts with a gentle tap on my shoulder.

"Yes?"

"Did something happen?"

Blinking in mock confusion, I tilt my head and press a finger to my chin, "I don't think so...?"

"Between you and Edward," Bonnet clarifies.

With a small frown, I struggle not to let my mouth slip into a pout but as I fail miserably, I look down at the floor and shuffle my feet, scuffing the already scratched toe of my boots. I didn't know what made me more embarrassed: the fact that I couldn't lie for shit when I used to be able to lie to the most observant guy on the planet - my brother - or the fact that despite not having spent any time with Bonnet since 1717, he - and probably everybody on the freaking planet - could tell that there was something not quite right between Edward and I. Even Thatch, who was happily drinking away in the corner, shot me a sympathetic look from behind Bonnet's back.

Now that's just depressing, I think to myself, the biggest, baddest pirate known on the seven seas feels sorry for me.

"Maybe," I mumble, rubbing my forearm sheepishly.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," I say quickly, startling the poor man almost out of his skin. With a soft giggle, I pat his shoulder and loop my arm through his. "I'm working on it," I assure Bonnet, tugging at his arm and he obliges, beginning to stroll about the deck with me, "and I've talked it out with someone... I just need some time to think about what I'm going to say... all I know is that I need to apologise."

"Apologise?" Bonnet asks, surprised.

I shake my head and he, respectfully, doesn't press me further. "Tell me about your adventures so far," I say after a couple of silent laps around the somewhat crowded deck.

"Hahahahaha, well there have been a few," Bonnet chuckles. He stops and looks out to the horizon; my gaze follows his, to where the Jackdaw in all it's glory sways on the open sea and we both smile, hoping that all of our effort wouldn't be for nought. After the pause, Bonnet continues in a soft voice: "I hope you and Edward work it out... you two seemed so close back in Havana."

I have to hold back my laughter at Bonnet's declaration.

From what I could recall, I had trusted Edward about as far as I could throw him and Edward had merely tolerated me, only promising to bring to Havana because he wasn't quite sure how else to deal with a stranded, crying woman. We were always butting heads, had argued near constantly to the point where Adéwalé threatened to throw the pair of us overboard or leave us on a deserted island until we worked out our differences. We kept so many secrets from the other - we still did - but... little by little, something changed between the two of us. I wonder when it started to change? When I started to see Edward as more than just a brash, vulgar pirate... more than just a friend. When did everything change? When did everything fall apart? It felt like Edward and were constantly moving at a faster pace than necessary, battling against the natural flow of reality, struggling to stay above water.

When would it be the right time to just give up?

"We'll work it out," I promise.

"Good. Now... let me tell you about how Mister Thatch absconded my ship."

With a bell-like laugh, I nodded and Bonnet, smiling as if everything was right in the world, began to tell his own tale.

0-0-0-0-0-0

It was cold beneath the surface and everything was tinted green.

Massive walls of rock, absconded by coral and sea life, and surrounded by the desecrating wreck on the San Ignacio informed those who wandered into the wreck site that it was they who were responsible for the ships demise. Fish of all shapes and colours flittered in and out from crevices and gaps in the barnacle covered wreckage; a kind of beauty and a new kind of world very few got to see. In fact, a small part of Edward, as he pushed himself off the diving bell and swam closer to the San Ignacio, wished that he was here at the wreck simply to explore; but that was not to be. He had a mission, one that he would stick to with few detours - after all, how could he turn a blind eye to the treasure just waiting to be discovered? - and very limited time.

But he could still take in the view while he searched.

He could see the rusting anchor of the ship, leaning on it's side half buried in the sand, framed by pink and blue, green and purple corals and guarded by swarm of glowing, translucent jellyfish. Beyond that was a section of the ships hull and, from where Edward floated, he could see what was unmistakably a chest that, from what he could tell, was untouched. Ducking beneath the jellyfish's trailing tentacles - which, if he touched, would certainly leave a nasty scratch - he unlatched the chest and took a peak inside, a pleased smile tugging at his lips as he unearthed a small amount of gold and a sparkling silver cross.

With the loot tucked safely away, Edward continues forward, flinching as his shoulder grazed one of the Jellyfish's arm. Pulling away quickly as the sharp pain began to spread up his arm, Edward takes a quick look at the unmistakable red line trailing down his bicep before his eyes looked away and scanned the never-ending gloom for the main section of the San Ignacio wreckage which would ubdoubtly have the medicines Nassau so desperately required for its survival. If he failed... no! The possibility of failing couldn't cross his mind because then, then it would feel as if they had already lost the war. But, the reality was that Thatch had already failed. The death of Nassau was almost unimaginable and it made Edward almost sick to his stomach just thinking about it... however, if he couldn't find the medicine crate, that was exactly what would occur.

I can't let her down, Edward thought as he swam through the water before pulling himself up short and shaking his head fiercely, startling a nearby school of fish. I meant I can't let them down... them.

How was it that she was always in his thoughts? Even when he had first fallen in love with Caroline, she had not constantly surrounded his thoughts. Tessa was in every waking thought, every dream, in every breath he took, every step he tried to take - she was everywhere and he couldn't escape her... nor did he want to. Oh, how he desired her and oh how he wanted her. He wanted to run his fingers through her fiery hair, he wanted to kiss her sinfully red, full lips and her perfect forehead. He wanted to hold her in his arms and never let go, to listen to her melodic laugh day after day, to see one her luminous smiles curl her lips and to just be by her side... The question was how was he going to tell Tessa that without putting his foot in his mouth like he always seemed to do when it came to her?

Now, that was a question he had yet to answer and he wasn't sure he was going to be able to.

Damn.

Shaking his head, Edward peered through the ocean and finding the main site of the wreck, pushed himself through the current towards the decaying ship. On what would have been the deck, he found the hatch that would've led to the hull of the ship. Easing it open - so it didn't collapse - he let the hatch fall onto the deck, gripping the edge and using it to push him deeper into the ships belly; well, what was left of it. The ships hill was little more than an empty skeleton, much of what would have been the belly of the ship in splinters or missing entirely, it's wooden presence replaced with the sea floor. Looking through the gloom, Edward spotted the chest that could only hold the medicine he sought. It rested beneath a wooden beam which, after swimming closer to it, he supported the beam under his shoulder and pushed it to the side, the movement causing the entire ship to groan and with it, part of the ship that had barely held together since its sinking, began to collapse on top go him. Frantically, Edward pushed himself away from the chest and the falling beams, the decaying wood just missing him by a couple of centimetres as it crashed to the ocean floor, disturbing the sand so it puffed about him in little white clouds that momentarily blinded him. The moment he could see clearly, Edward darted forward and grabbed at the bottle of medicine half buried in the sand surrounded by the remains of the chest it had been nestled inside for the past couple of years. In the moment his fingers closed around the green bottle, a sense of relief seemed to flood his entire body and he seemed to become almost lighter in the water.

He had done what he had come to do.

Tucking the bottle in a safe place, he looked around the remains of the ship and, finding a large tunnel that seemed to be large enough for Edward to easily slip through, pulls himself through the entry and begins to swim the length. As he delved further and further into the dark, that fact seemed to only become more and more real and the elation that came with it only propelled him faster through the water - that, and the sudden realisation that it meant he could return to her and finally fix what was broken.

And for some reason, that seemed more important to him than the tiny bottle that held the fate of an entire colony.

0-0-0-0-0-0

"Do you think he'll be okay down there?"

Steve looks at me from out of the corner of his eye, his elbows resting on the solid wood of the ship, leaning over the waters edge with me as we anxiously await Edwards' arrival. He twirls the tip of his moustache thoughtfully, considering how to answer my query and after a moment, he offers me a gentle smile: "I think he'll be fine. This is Edward we're talking about."

I can't help but laugh; it seems like such a obvious conclusion to come to, that I can't help but wonder how I didn't reach it first. With a smile of my own, I watch the waves lap against the side of the ship and play with the locket Edward had given, finding comfort in the small silver pendant that sat just above my collarbones. However, even though there is a smile on my lips and a confidence to Bonnet's words, I can't help the flicker of doubt that nags at me relentlessly. "You're right," I say although I can tell from Bonnet's face that I certainly don't look appeased, "this is Edward we're talking about."

"What has you so concerned?"

"I don't know," I admit, pushing myself away from the ships edge so that I can pace the expansive length of the deck, "I'm just- it's just- there's sharks and jellyfish and god knows what else down there... I'm just worried he won't..."

"He won't come back?" Thatch offers from his perch, tilting back his head as he tries to swallow the remaining drops of rum from the slender brown bottle he clasps in his hand - his third or so, by the looks of it. "Edward'll come back, Lass... or he'll die trying."

"That's what I'm afraid of," I say with a pointed look in Thatch's direction, snatching the clearly empty bottle out of his hands, "don't you think that you've had enough?"

"The best part about being a pirate, Lass?" Thatch says, unfazed by judgement and already reaching for a new bottle and cracking it upon. He pauses with the bottle halfway to his lips, thinking over what he's about to say: "scratch that - the second best thing about being a pirate?"

"What?"

"The endless supply of rum that we carry aboard our ship," he says.

"And what if all the rum is gone?" I ask, mildly curious as to what his answer may be.

Thatch lowers his bottle and glares pointedly as me. "That's the kind of talk that'll have you swimming back to Nassau, Lass," he says, gesturing with the brown bottle so enthusiastically that some of the rum sloshes over the rim and drizzles down the bottles smooth sides, "even if we finish our supply, we'll simply absconder some more."

"Aren't we supposed to avoid terrorising the merchant fleets?"

"I-" Thatch pauses and tilting his head to the side, scratches at his beard in thought. He looks down at the now half-full bottle clasped in his hand and, with a look of immense regret, lowers it to the decks wooden floor, "I had not thought of that... not thought of that at all."

I giggle at the disappointment on Thatch's face, covering my smile with my hand. Bonnet joins in not a moment later, a soft chuckle which only prompts my to giggle louder until the two of us are clutching at our sides and wiping away the tears in our eyes - clearly, rum was very very important to the man who was known as the fiercest captain of the high seas; I guess everyone has there weakness. At our laughter, Thatch looks over at the pair of us and glares that kind of glare that people often joke would make hell freeze over. Bonnet immediately ceases to laugh, looking like a deer caught in headlight under Thatch's fearsome look but Bonnet's distress only causes me to laugh harder and I have to turn away from the pair of them, pressing a hand to my mouth in an attempt to stifle my laughter and dim my smile.

"Diving bell on return to ship, captain!" a crew member calls out to Thatch, a declaration that immediately wipes the smile off my face.

I look towards the black-bearer pirate, who swipes the hat of his head and turns to face the calm ocean, fiddling with the hats brim. He looks towards me and then looks towards the diving bell, which several of his crew members are fussing over in order to bring the metal contraption safely aboard the deck of the Queen Anne's Revenge. "Go," he says as if this is the most obvious thing in the world and really, it is.

What's wrong with me? I think, shaking my head at my own ineptness. But even though I ask myself that, I know what's wrong as I approach the throng of people gathered on the opposite end of the ship. Small tremors shake my body as I creep closer and closer, nerves forcing me to shorten each step till I'm practically shuffling along, my fingers wrapped around the butterfly-engraved locket so tightly that the metal wings cut into the flesh of my hand. I can feel my heart racing in my chest, pounding faster and faster against my ribcage as my eyes seek out the one person I desperately wanted to see but the moment my eyes land on Edward, every fibre in my body tells me to turn tail and run; while screaming is an option, although an extreme one at that.

I'm not ready, i'm not ready, i'm not ready... Round and round that same thought floats in my mind as I force myself to keep walking, to keep my eyes on him, I'm not ready, I'm not ready... I can't do this!

"Welcome back."

I cringe at the sound of my own voice and flinch away as Edward turns to face me, his blue eyes unreadable as he looks me up and down - once, twice - before pushing back his blonde curls which are stuck to his forehead and the back of his neck. My heart pounds harder and faster in my chest and I can't help but blush as I gaze at the man before me: rivets of water flow down his chiseled, tattooed arms and chest, sparkling in the fading light of the day. My eyes follow the droplets of water, lingering on each and every tattoo I could see and I find myself wondering what each tattoo meant - although some of them were easier to guess than others.

"Tess."

"Yes?" I squeak, feeling that familiar warmth that only Edward seemed to inspire seep through my body, trying desperately not to grin when I hear him use that particular nickname. Realising however that I was still staring at him, I jerk my gaze up from Edward's well-toned chest to his eyes which were just as spellbinding as always, drawing me in and refusing to let me go until I had sufficiently drowned in the blue depths. I tighten my grip further on the locket, pressing it closer to my skin as Edward leans towards me, water dripping from his hair unto my skin.

"My eyes are up here," he teases after a heartbeat, pulling back with a wry smile.

I feel my cheeks burn as my heart flutters and I duck my head to avoid his keen eyes from picking up on it, "r-right. Sorry."

"No need to apologise."

"Um," I say, awkwardly shuffling my feet. With a sigh and a silent scolding to myself for my suddenly shy behaviour, I thrust my arm towards Edward and hold out for him a thin towel that, although dry, had clearly seen better days. "It's not the cleanest but its dry…"

"...Thanks," Edward says softly, reaching for the towel with a small smile still curling his lips.

As he reaches for the towel however, Edwards fingers brush mine causing that sweet heat to flood my body and with a gasp, I can't stopp myself from jerking away from his touch. And just as I do that, Edward does the same, the rag fluttering to the floor between us looking as sad and dejected as I felt.

Why did I do that? I think, flustered as I bent over and retrieved the old rag from the decking, holding it out him while my eyes remained firmly lowered, studying my boots intently almost as if I had never seen them before. I knew why I did… I just couldn't understand why I had gone through with it. I was honestly like a young, blushing schoolgirl who was talking to her crush for the very first time but after all Edward and I had been through, it was pointless.

"Thank you," Edward repeats softly, his fingers once again brushing against mine as he grabs the towel.

I shiver and prepare to draw away again, but he grabs hold of my hand and pulls me closer, pressing my small frame against his firm body which despite being wet, is still incredibly warm. The sudden force has me nearly tripping over my feet though but I manage to stop myself from face planting into Edward, my hands resting against his chest to cushion my fall, my breath hitching as I feel his wet skin beneath my the palm of my hands. I can feel the steady beat of his heart, pounding against his chest just a little bit faster than what I expected it to be and in my transfixed state, I can't help but trace his tattoos with the tips of my fingers, feeling Edward beneath by light touch.

He grabs at my hands - dropping the barely used towel - and looks down at me, his own breaths coming away now slightly faster, the pupils of his eyes dilated slightly. For a moment we simply stare at each other, gauging the others reaction before considering how we should proceed and, like he so often does, Edward takes the lead. He releases my hands in favour of cupping my face between his palms, drawing my face closer to his so we remain only a breath away and then... he presses his lips to mine and I feel all of my worries, all of my doubts and fears and frustrations fly out the window as I sink into the kiss. I throw my arms around his neck so that I can curl my fingers into his soft blonde hair, obediently opening my mouth when his tongue urges me to do so. He steals away every breath of air in my lungs, turning my knees weak to the point were Edward has to wrap an arm around my waist to keep me upright, spreading that familiar heat - that I hadn't realised I missed until now - throughout my body, from the top of my head to the tip of my toes.

And, just as suddenly as it begins… it ends.

However, although the kiss was everything and more, there was something sad about it. Almost like it was a farewell but that couldn't be it... could it?

"Tonight," Edward breathes heavily, his voice a low murmur. He rests his forehead against mine as his fingers catch a loose strand of my hair, curling the red strands over his fingers before tucking it behind my ear, "tonight… okay, Tess?"

I can only nod, too breathless to find my voice.

"Interrupting something, are we?"

"Yes," Edward jokes, looking over my head to Thatch and Bonnet, a wry smile curling his lips as he regards his friends.

"No," I answer back, slapping at Edwards' forearm before I turn away, massaging my cheeks as the blush returns. Flustered, a run a hand through my hair and desperately try to think up an excuse on the spot but all I can manage is a few 'umms' and 'ahhhs.' There was no point to it anyway, considering that both Bonnet and Thatch knew that there was something more than simple friendship between Edward and I… well, they knew that there had been but considering how uncertain things were, I was reluctant to put a label to it.

Even if the bloody man had just swept me off my feet with that kiss.

"Any luck?" Thatch asks.

Edwards' face sobers, all traces of laughter gone in a manner of seconds. "I found one crate hidden beneath a school of sharks. Sadly," he shakes his head and pulls out a tiny green bottle, uncorking it and upending it on the deck, a sickly green liquid drizzling out, "the elixir inside is…"

"Quite spoilt," I finish, curling my lip in distaste as the smell of the rancid medicine hit my nose. Honestly, it smelt just as bad as it looked.

Glancing over at Thatch, I raise my eyebrow as I take in what the pirate has clutched in his hands - a lit torch, which he held precariously close to his hat. Catching my curious gaze, the pirate smiles and says, "be patient…"

"Like you know what 'patient' is," I tease, shaking my head as I watch Bonnet take a sniff of the medicine bottle and giggling at the horrified expression he makes upon catching the scent.

"Regardless of that," the pirate growls, tossing aside the torch with a quick flick of his wrist. It rolls harmlessly across the deck while Thatch storms away, grinding his teeth with a dark expression upon his face, "plague and perish! Will we steal medicines now?"

"Somehow, I feel that goes against Hornigold's rules of sticking to the pardon," I say, with a shake of my head.

"Tess is right," Edward says, following his mentors' agitated pacing with his eyes, "remember the pardon, Thatch. We're to be subtle."

That just seems to irritate the man further. "Says Hornigold!" he snarls, shooting Edward a withering glare, "a pirate now too proud to call himself one!"

"Thatch…" I start, taking a step towards him but stopping mid-stride when his anger is turned on me.

Edward, undaunted by Thatch's black mood, pulls me to his side with a quick shake of his head. He turns his gaze to the horizon and says quietly, "He prefers caution to cannons."

"Caution's nothing without charisma!" Thatch growls, crossing the deck in a few short, angry strides. He presses close to Edward, his voice dangerously low as his notorious temper begins to flare up. Taking a deep breath, he looks away for a moment before glancing back at Edward, a determined glint to his eyes. "For if a man plays the fool, then it's only fools he'll persuade."

"But appear to be the devil," he continues slowly, as if willing Edward and I - but mostly Edward - to understand his reasoning, "and all men will submit."

Edward, after a moment to take it all in, smirks and tilts his head slightly towards Thatch. "And would you be the devil?" he asks.

For a moment, the two simply stare at each other. Then Thatch, tightening his grip on his hat, raises it to his head where four fuses sit beneath the brim and smoke as they burn. He grins, an almost sadistic, devilish glint to his gaze and in that moment, I could believe that he really was the devil - or a complete psychopath.

"For an audience, aye," he says with a nod, "it's all a big show."

"And a convincing one at that," I mutter, folding my arms over my chest as I regard the pirate whose stories were regained to me as a child, whose stories used to scare me shitless to the point where I wouldn't board any boat out of fear it would be absconded by pirates like Blackbeard. Of course, back in my time, there were no pirates quite so legendary as to strike fear into the hearts of sailors - there were pirates but none so fearsome as those from this golden age.

He spares me a quick grin as he passes, strolling almost casually towards Bonnet who stood off to the side as if he was uncertain where he fitted into the grand scheme of things. Honestly, Thatch's careful steps and the way he looked Bonnet up and down silently, was far more terrifying than his anger; and it seemed Bonnet agreed. He trembled as the pirate approach, shrinking back as to appear smaller and more docile - a usual fight or flight instinct.

"Give your quarry something to fear," Thatch continues, still watching Bonnet and almost circling the poor man as he got closer and closer, "some hellish thing from a fevered dream…"

He stops.

"… and men will drop to their knees," he continues, voice low and dangerous as he looms over the near terrified Bonnet, "pleading for their lord before aught else!"

His voice ends at a terrifying roar and I can't help but flinch away, even though Thatch was a couple of strides away. I could only imagine how Thatch looked up close, radiating as much anger and power as he was. From the angle Bonnet was at, it would have to be a terrifying site - the fuses burning brightly, casting smoke about Thatch's face which, due to the angle, was half hidden by shadows and bathed in the reddish glow of the sunset.

If anything… Thatch truly like the devil.

I could totally understand why Bonnet looked as pale as a ghost.

"Oh… God…" Bonnet manages to gasp out, stumbling back a couple of steps.

"Jesus Thatch," I cry out, "you're gonna give the poor man a heart attack!"

Edward chuckles, folding his arms over his chest as he looks on. "Looks fine," he jokes, laughing as I swat at his arm.

"'Course it does," Thatch answers in a calm, even tone of voice, turning away and making his way towards the helm of his ship. "If you can find a quiet way to acquire medicines," Thatch says, looking over his shoulder at the pair of us, "tell me soon." He continues his ascent, raising his voice so it can be heard from the newfound distance, "otherwise, I'll handle it myself."

Edward tugs at my hand and we drift away but I can't help but I can't help but shiver at the thinly veiled threat Thatch had made. We had to do something… otherwise, chaos would erupt on the Caribbean Sea.

0-0-0-0-0-0

He found her exactly where he knew she would be: at the bow of the ship, the wind whipping her loose hair wildly around her heart-shaped face, her pale skin aglow under the pale light of the moon. She leaned against the ships bow, her luminous eyes watching the waves that rushed from the ship as it cut through the otherwise silent and still sea. Her full lips were open slightly as if in wonder and he himself could not help but stare at her in complete awe. As if sensing his gaze, Tessa turned her head, her fingers holding back her wild, fiery-red hair as it flowed about her face and upon noticing him, her lips curled into a soft smile; and although it was small and maybe a little strained - to be expected, of course - but it still took Edwards' breath away.

"I'm sorry that we didn't have better luck," she says softly once he's within an earshot.

"Better luck with what?" Edward asks, leaning against the bow of his ship as he regards the tiny, beautiful woman.

She rolls her eyes and giggles, giving him a look that plainly said he should know what she was discussing without having to tell him. "Better luck with the medicine," she clarifies, "I know how important it is for us to find some… it's to save our home."

"You know… when I first met you, that word and Nassau wouldn't even be in the same sentence."

Tessa tilts back her head and laughs, catching her head and pushing the strands behind her ears and to Edwards' surprise, he noticed a small, silver stud glittering on her earlobe; he'd never noticed that she had pierced ears but ti wasn't like Tessa wore a lot of jewellery in the first place. In fact, the only piece she did wear day in and day out was the silver locket he had gifted her in Kingston - and before that, before she had lost it, it had been the small pearl she had fashioned into a necklace back in Nassau.

"Things change," she says with a soft, affectionate smile, her gaze trained back on the still ocean. With a sigh, she shakes her head and then tilts it to the side, seeming to choose her words carefully before she continued in her soft, melodic voice. "I still miss home… and I'd like to go back one day I think. But Nassau has become my home," she turns her gaze upon him and immediately, Edward is trapped in her blue-green, serious gaze, "and I don't want anything to happen to it. That would be… too heartbreaking to bear."

"I'm glad," Edward says and at her surprised expression, he chuckles under his breath and reaches over to smooth down her fiery hair. "I'm glad that you consider you're home," he explains, "I'm glad that you've settled."

"Well," she says somewhat matter of factly, "it's been how many years since we ran into each other?"

He can't help but laugh at that, "true… true."

"Besides… I have friends there; like Anne and Mary and you and Adè and now Bonnet... even Thatch I consider a friend, a good friend, even if he does share me shitless." Both of them laugh at that because, there was nothing more true nor honest than that statement. After the laughter has died down, she continues: "and I have a wonderful job at the Old Avery and I have so many great adventures with you, even if sometimes they can be a little overwhelming and dangerous. But really, what more could I want?"

"You tell me."

She pauses, searching his face in case he wasn't being serious. Finding no trace of mirth, only patience and curiosity, she reaches for the locket at her throat and fiddles with it, stroking the butterfly wings with a contemplative look up her beautiful face. "I'd like us to fix whatever it is we broke," she eventually whispers, looking away from his gaze as a blush burns brightly against her ivory skin.

"Ok…"

"I mean, we constantly fight and argue and have these misunderstandings that just leave me tired and confused and… lonely."

"I…" Edward pauses, searching for the right words, "I understand. I really do, Tess."

"I just…" she falters, turning her gaze back to the star-studded sky with a helpless shrug of her shoulders, "I just wish it would stop, that it would all end."

It was as if she had physically knocked the breath out of him, as if she was confirming his worst fears; which she was. Did she mean it? Did she really want this all to end? He couldn't blame her… this hadn't exactly been the life she had chosen; hadn't he promised to her all those years ago, on that very day they had met, that he would bring her home or at least tried to help? He hadn't done much in that department. She had kinda just fallen into his world and he hadn't question it but Edward honestly thought… he thought that she had become accustomed to it. To all the ups and down, all the danger, all the excitement - that she had become accustomed to being by his side through and thin. She was probably homesick, missing her brother and her parents and her friends and… and him.

The very thought of her with another man sickened him to his stomach. But it wasn't like she owed him anything. Yeah, the two of them and shared a few kisses, a few intimate moments but they weren't exactly together and for gods sake, while he could have fun - not that Tessa was just for fun… she was so much more to him than merely a toy to which he could amuse himself with - Edward did have a wife. That he loved. Very much… right?

"Edward?" she says, her voice almost far away. Edward felt her fingers brush his arm, breaking him out of his rampaging thoughts. The touch was silent inquiry as to whether he was ok and with a quick shake of his head, he forced himself to focus on her, to curl his lips into a smile which felt more like a grimace with each passing second and… well... lie.

"I'm fine," Edward says slowly, "just… lost in thought."

"Oh."

"… You're right, you know?"

"I… I am?" Tessa asks, her beautiful eyes widening in surprise, raising one somehow perfectly arched, dark eyebrow, "about what exactly?"

"All of it."

"I don't quite…" she says, her face melting into one of confusion.

Swallowing thickly, Edward forced himself to turn back to the petite girl by his side, his eyes finding her inquisitive gaze. He almost faltered, seeing those doe-like eyes and that tiny half-smile pulling at her lips but he made himself continue.

"You're right," he repeats.

"Edward?"

"Let's end this… all of this."

---

Once more I write a line to you,
While darker shadows fall;
Dear friends of mine who have been true,
And steadfast through it all.
If I have written bitter rhymes,
With many lines that halt,
And if I have been false at times
It was not all my fault.

To Heaven's decree I would not bow,
And I sank very low—
The bitter things are written now,
And we must let them go.
But I feel softened as I write;
The better spirit springs,
And I am very sad to-night
Because of many things.

The friendships that I have abused,
The trust I did betray,
The talents that I have misused,
The gifts I threw away.
The things that did me little good,
And—well my cheeks might burn—
The kindly letters that I should
Have answered by return.

But you might deem them answered now,
And answered from my heart;
And injured friends will understand
'Tis I who feel the smart.
But I have done with barren strife
And dark imaginings,
And in my future work and life
Will seek the better things.

- Henry Lawson, 'The Cross-roads' -