Adrift

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Ah yes, the morning after...I know you've been wondering about that, my faithful reviewers. Thank you again to Faeritales, CoffeeMuse and Elena, for your comments and encouragement. Elena, at least one of your questions had already been addressed in this chapter. Forgive me for being coy, I've always been a fan of the big build-up!

A little more naughtiness and plenty of intrigue to follow...

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Not since he’d been a wee lad, his bed a simple pallet beside the family hearth, had Hector awoken with the same sense of contentment he enjoyed with the arrival of the dawn. His had been a dreamless sleep and an easy awakening, the strife of the day before supplanted by the presence of a beautiful woman between his sheets and recollection of the way she’d given herself over to her passion and his.

He stretched his arms and then tucked his hands beneath his head, careful not to disturb the girl’s well-deserved slumber. If he’d ever entertained an idea that a single night of lust would purge Elizabeth Swann from his heart for good, he understood it now to be outright self-deception. If anything, knowing her in the most private of ways only deepened his adoration and further enflamed his desire. No use denying it – he was good and lost.

She rolled towards him and snorted loudly, her face veiled by her tangled brown mane. His lips twitched in a grin at the distinctly unladylike sound, knowing she’d be appalled at having made such a noise at all. Elizabeth squirmed, reaching instinctively across the sheets for him only to fall back into stillness again when her fingers found the warm skin of his side. He smiled to himself and reached down to caress her hand gently.

A sensible man would cast off lines and set sail for some distant isle before she woke, taking her from the turmoil and danger awaiting them just miles from Wisteria. Hector knew she’d not stand for it, though, and while he might pretend that her stubborn nature galled him to no end, he’d not have her any different. What was it if not her fire that he loved, the wilful spirit of her heart?

Even if he could convince her, flight would likely do them no good – he hated to admit it, but he knew that to be true. No wind blew as could carry them far enough away to avoid their part in whatever tale was unfolding. Best it was to become resigned to the fact now and deal head on with whatever was destined to come in the days ahead.

He sighed and looked over at Elizabeth’s still form. He should likely be up and having one of his men cook something with which the two of them could break their fast; he had, after all, promised he’d have her back to her dive site before the day was very far along. He’d have to go and deal with Marilyn before they left, too...perhaps a night alone, pondering both her betrayal and her fate, would prompt her to reveal their enemies. He didn’t want to think on the punishment he had no choice but to exact.

For now, though...ah, the sun was still low on the horizon, and the dim haven of his stateroom held too much promise of pleasure for him to abandon it so rashly.

Hector reached over and slowly tugged the edge of the blanket off of Elizabeth’s tan shoulder. He paused, waiting to see if she noticed but there was no change in her breathing. Carefully rolling over on his side, he again took hold of the bedding and pulled it further down as he leaned closer to her neck. There he breathed deeply of her inviting scent before placing a kiss on her fragrant skin.

He traced a path over her side with his hand, pushing the covers down to the valley where her hip began. He kissed her there as well, his hair falling forward and trailing over her waist as his lips moved. She shivered and muttered in her sleep.

“What’s that, me girl?” he said teasingly as he raised his head, admiring the lovely breast that had been exposed as the covers had come down. He bent towards her rose-tinted nipple, intent on waking her with the slow arousal of his tongue.

“Said…ridiculous hat. The feathers tickle…Barbossa, take it off…” she moaned quietly.

He stopped moving altogether, his heart frozen in shock. Hector shook his head. “What did you say, ‘Lizabeth?” he asked hoarsely, drawing the downy tresses away from her face so he could see her reaction.

Despite the question, she did not awaken but merely sighed happily, a ghost of a smile gracing her face briefly before she drifted deeper into sleep again. He let the curtain of hair slip from his fingers and then sagged back against his own pillow, staring blankly upwards as he sucked in a deep breath, trying to steady his pulse.

It wasn’t a memory from the distant past that had passed from the girl’s lips, ‘though it had almost sounded like one at first. Fairly certain he was that had she ever said such, he’d have remembered it well. But neither was it a recent reminiscence, what with the allusion to his attire of old and the name by which she had called him. Damn it all, he knew well enough what it wasn’t – if he could just figure out what it was, his mind would certainly rest easier.

But there was what she’d said and then there was the way she’d said it...and the more he thought upon that, the more intrigued he grew. Hector absently rubbed at his beard, thinking upon the sound of her voice. It wasn’t the whimper of a frightened governor’s daughter or the haughty disdain of the girl who’d sailed over the edge with him, but very much that of a woman full of desire and need.

More and more it seemed as if perhaps Elizabeth of old had harboured some of the same longings for him as did the Elizabeth now sharing his bed. Same soul she had, after all, and so long as her feelings remained constant through it all, what good did it do him to borrow worry? Ungrateful it would be to call into question whatever blessing had finally brought them together. He’d not waste time dwelling upon it.

He looked again to where she rested peacefully and he was seized with the need to awaken her before more of their morning burned away like fog from the water. Hector turned over and picked up her hand, tenderly pressing the tips of her fingers to his lips. She sighed again but moved no more than that, and so he forged a path of kisses that began at her wrist and wound along the tender skin of her forearm all the way to the inside of her elbow. He licked languidly at the velvety hollow there, savouring the sweet taste on his tongue.

As he glanced at her face, Elizabeth sleepily blinked a few times and stirred awake slowly, a shy smile spreading as she focused upon him. “Good morning,” she said, reclaiming her arm so she could drape it delicately over his shoulder.

His heart was touched to see her face reflect happiness back at him. So long as he worked to capture her heart in the here and now, he decided, the past could encroach all it wanted and she’d still be his – he would make damned sure of it.

“And to ye. Did ye sleep soundly?”

She bit at her lower lip as her eyes sparkled. “Yes, I did. Of course, I was exhausted beyond all reason after being ridden in such a wild and brutish manner.” She played about with the hairs on the nape of his neck and sent a shiver through him with her touch.

“I heard nary a complaint last night,” he smiled proudly, smoothing his palm over the crest of her hip and the smooth curve of her ass. With a tug he pulled her closer to him and she rewarded him by entwining her legs with his in a slow, sensuous dance. As Elizabeth’s skin slid warmly over his, Hector’s lust flared once more and his cock hardened, pressing into the softness of her belly.

Her luscious mouth parted slightly in delight and she slowly swivelled her hips against his erection, drawing a throaty moan from his lips. “Trust me, I have no complaints. I think I’d be hard pressed to find any fault with your technique.”

“Still an’ all…best to keep practicin’,” he intoned, raising an eyebrow at her as he skimmed his hand up over the small of her back. “Wouldn’t want to lose me edge.”

Elizabeth nuzzled his chest with her nose, her eyes falling to half mast as she laid wet kisses on his skin. “I do believe I was dreaming about you when you woke me up, you know,” she whispered against him, finding his nipple with her teeth and then teasing it to a point with the tip of her tongue.

The comment caused his heart to jump, but his anxiety dissolved with the rather distracting and altogether wonderful way she bit at him. “What makes ye say so?” he managed to gasp out as her nibbling turned instead to sucking. A growl rumbled deep within him and he arched his back, weaving his fingers through her hair and pushing his puckered nipple further between her lips. It almost felt as though a silken cord was tugging at his balls with each delicate mouthful she took and the sensation set his blood afire.

“Because from the moment I opened my eyes, I was already aching for you,” she said, the breath from her mouth cooling the tight little peak she’d been worrying and causing his cock to twitch heavily where it lay nestled between them. “I don’t remember much about my dream, but I do know that I was desperate to have you ease yourself into me, inch by glorious inch, until you filled me completely. But you were teasing, tickling...tormenting me until I thought I’d go mad from lust.”

Returning to the task at hand, she lazily circled the flat tan circle around his other nipple with her tongue, making him squirm again and barely able to keep from smiling as she did so. “Can you possibly imagine how that might feel?”

Hector barked out a laugh and grabbed her suddenly by her hips. She squeaked with surprise as he lifted her up and over so that she straddled his waist and her hands rested flat against his chest. “Ye push me too far, my love. Only so much a man can be expected to take before he’s the one as is doin’the takin’.”

His shaft nudged against the sweet, wet heat between her legs and he sighed unevenly. She was a sight, for sure, proudly set astride his slender hips as her small breasts quivered with each sharp breath she took. A beautiful masthead she looked to be, made flesh and blood and wanting nothing more than to find fulfillment with him. He was startled, then, to look at her face and see a tear winding its way over her flushed cheek.

“What’s wrong? ‘Lizabeth, did I hurt ye? Too forceful I was last night, I’ve left ye sore...” he said with alarm, sitting half way up. He cursed himself for his roughness.

She shook her head and pushed him back down onto the mattress. “No, it’s not that...it’s nothing, I’m fine.”

“Yer not fine, don’t spin me such a fable. Tell me,” he insisted, bewildered at the sudden change. “Can’t stand to see ye thus.”

Elizabeth looked down at where her fingers had spread over his chest, avoiding his eyes. The tear dropped and fell upon his torso, and he laid his hands upon hers, trying to give her what comfort he could without knowing what pained her.

“What you called me just now, you’ve never said it that way before.” she whispered. “Was it just pillow talk…or…”

It finally dawned on him what had affected her so. Vigilant he’d been about keeping his terms of endearment ambiguous – he hadn’t felt it prudent to tip his hand so early – but his true heart had shown itself with the single word, ‘love.’

Who had wounded her so badly that she would doubt it, and so much so that a simple word held such power? Likely that miserable little bugger Turner. Anger nearly took him until he remembered that she’d dared to lay her hope bare before him and was awaiting an answer.

Hector sighed unhappily and moved beneath her, sliding backwards until he sat up against the headboard. He squeezed his eyes tightly closed as he moved - her damp pussy glided over his stiff arousal and he had to fight to tamp down his desire for the time being. Finally she was seated in his lap and he took her chin in his hand, tilting her head until she had no choice but to meet his unwavering gaze.

“Right ye are to be suspicious – there’s many a man as bandies about pretty words in the heat of passion, words that prove to be naught but shadow when comes the first light of day. There be no honour in a lie like that, though, and ne’er would I cause ye such pain.”

Her voice sounded small and vulnerable when she answered. “So you do...?” Almost afraid she was to say the word itself, and it occurred to him that while she needed to know and might even feel it herself, she simply wasn’t ready to speak it aloud.

“Ye can’t tell me, ‘Lizabeth, that ye didn’t suspect I harboured such feelins’,” he said quietly, grazing her lower lip with his thumb. “Had no intention, though, of revealin’ it to ye yet. Didn’t seem fair to be placing a burden of that kind upon ye after so short a time.”

She gave a short, disbelieving laugh. “A burden?”

“Aye, because so knowin’ might make ye feel obligated to return the sentiment, even if ye don’t yet hold that same feelin’ it in yer heart. And I’d rather ne’er hear it from ye at all than to listen to ye say the words and know them to be untrue.” He cupped her face in both his hands, letting her see in his eyes that he bore no grudge. “Content I be to wait fer ye...I’ll win fair maiden yet.”

Another tear spilled from her eye and he made a disappointed noise. “Now, none of that,” he chided. He leaned close and licked the salty drop away with the tip of his tongue, following the moist track it made over her cheek with a kiss. “Better ways there be to spend the mornin’ than this.”

Hector took hold of her lush ass and pulled her forward until she was kneeling, her legs on either side of his hips and her perfect breasts before his face. He closed his eyes and bent forward, rubbing his beard across a tender pink bud before pulling at it gently with his lips. As she let out a shivery sigh, she pressed herself closer and he enclosed as much of the sweet plumpness with his mouth as he could.

He slipped a hand around her hip and up over her ribs until he’d found her other breast, kneading it softly until the nipple felt like a pearl against his palm and a moan of need broke from her throat. A surge of heat shot through him at the sound and his cock throbbed where it had curved against his navel.

Shifting his hips, he edged back down against the mattress, embracing her tightly as he once again reclined on the bed. “Take me as ye will,” he rasped against her neck. So close she was that he could feel the moist heat from her lovely slit washing over his groin and it made his pulse race. “Let go yer self-control and fuck me, show me yer desire.”

He thrilled at the hunger he saw on her face as she sat up, her eyes wild with predatory longing. There was no hesitation, no shaky uncertainty as she reached down between them and took him firmly into her hands. He gasped sharply and closed his eyes, his hips straining up towards her as she stroked him fervently.

“Tell me that you’ve never been this hard for anyone else,” she demanded of him, her voice low and sultry as she pulled her hands slowly up his length and made his toes curl with ecstasy. “Tell me how badly you want me to take you in and squeeze myself around you.”

He writhed within her grasp, the feel of her fingers driving his lust. “Ne’er wanted anyone as I want ye,” he panted. “Would give all that I have to call ye mine, to take ye hard and have ye clutch me tight within.”

Her breath caught in her throat at his words and she mounted him, the wet lips of her sex spreading around him as she took all he had, one agonizingly lingering inch at a time. She grabbed at his arms, her nails digging into him convulsively as she marked him, claiming him body and soul as she sank down upon him. He groaned deeply as she surrounded him completely, the sensation nearly robbing him of his restraint.

Hector Barbossa had been called lover by countless women over the ages. For some he was a dangerous conquest, a legend to be bedded for a night or two of forbidden fantasy. Still others had presumed to know his heart and thought to capture the love of a pirate lord, wanting the benefits of protection and power. As she moved above him, he understood that Elizabeth knew nothing but that she wanted to make him hers alone – her touch was covetous, her eyes eloquent with unspoken promises of forever. Never had he submitted to a woman in such as way; never had he so utterly given himself over to such sweet bonds.

They both stayed still for a heartbeat or two, overwhelmed and trembling. Slowly she began to move, her breath shuddering as she eased him out and then took him back in more quickly, determined to maintain her hold upon him. Her eyes shone as though she was on the hunt, and she snarled as she rose above him once more. He pushed up into her, challenging her and twisting his hips so as to push as far in as he could, meeting her thrust for thrust. His fingers dug into her flanks, spurring her on towards rapture.

Her need for him seemed to flow from her, in each breath and each satiny stroke of her quim. She flung her head back with sheer abandon, her hair flying and her breasts trembling as she began to ride him like a woman possessed. “So much,” she grunted huskily as she ground herself against him. “Want you…so much…oh God…”

He could feel his balls drawing up against his body and as the telltale jolts began in his gut, he clenched his teeth as he fought for control. It was too soon, she was chasing her release too quickly. He tried to slow her down, to steady her with his hands around her hips, but she was having no part of it. Close he was to coming, but he’d take no pleasure in completion if she didn’t first find hers.

With one hand, he reached around behind her and slid his fingers down the part in her ass, finding the small, tight whorl and circling against it. Her eyes fluttered open in astonishment before she relaxed again and gave herself over to the new sensation, moaning louder yet. When he eased a hand between them and brushed across her swollen clit, she sobbed and shivered violently, her thighs clamping his hips tightly as her pussy clenched to trap him fast. Her orgasm rippled over his cock and he jerked upwards to fill her with his seed, his climax fierce enough that it felt as though his heart would burst from his chest.

She collapsed atop him, her limbs shaking and the sound of her stifled cries filling the room. He smiled against the top of her head, knowing that the noises coming from her had their origins in high emotions rather than low. In the distance, he heard the rumble of thunder and he wrapped her in his arms to keep her safe...to keep her his.


***


As always, the weather of Florida turned out to be a mixed blessing. As the storm rolled in, the seas had became rough enough that the crew of the Penzance opted not to attempt a dive, instead calling Elizabeth to inform her of their return to the lab for the day. Although Hector should have been pleased that he’d have her to himself for a few hours longer, the time would not be spent as he’d have chosen. Confrontation was to be the order of the morning and so he found himself reluctantly leaving Elizabeth to her morning activities as he dragged himself out into the unwelcome downpour.

He made his way down the pier, feeling after only a few minutes as though he’d been dredged from the sea bottom and dropped soaking wet on land. The discomfort did little to improve his mood. As he boarded Marilyn’s vessel, he saw that John Ansill had caught the night watch. The burly crewman cautiously backed away with the dark look he received as his captain came aboard, but he at last mustered enough courage to give Hector a report.

“She’s still stowed below, Cap’n,” reassured Ansill, scratching at his shadowy face and trying to hold back a yawn that spoke of his long night. “Rackham said the fight pretty much went outta ‘er once they got ‘er locked up.” He shook his head in sad disbelief. “Can’t believe she went ‘n done what she done, sir. Guess ye ne’er can tell.”

“Did they rip out her radio? Make sure she couldn’t get word to anyone?” Hector growled, ducking into the wheel house to get out of the rain. He shook out his hair and smoothed it back out of his face as Ansill followed close on his heels. Puddles formed on the floor beneath them and Hector grimaced, hating the feel of heavy wet denim upon his legs.

“Aye, sir. Morris disabled the engine as well. She’s goin’ nowhere fast.”

“Fair enough. Send o’er yer relief and get yerself a decent meal. I’ll be dealin’ with this on me own.”

Ansill turned but then hesitated. “Cap’n...sir...yer not gonna finish ‘er off, are ye?” he asked quietly, wringing nervously at the cuff of his jacket. “I know what the Code says an’ all, but Doc’s meant an awful lot to everyone here. There must be a way...”

Hector glowered at him a moment, fury flaring briefly at being questioned by one of his crew. The sorrowful look in the crewman’s eyes, though, stayed his anger and cooled his temper. He didn’t want to see Marilyn die either, much less by his hand. “Code says a lot of things, and well ye know that I’m not averse to breakin’ a tenet or two to suit me own purposes. Nay, I’ll not take her life, Master Ansill, but know that having her stay amongst us is not an option I’ll be considering.”

Ansill looked placated and nodded, finally making good his departure. Hector watched the man hunch his shoulders and pull up his collar against the weather before he vanished into the dreary rainstorm. Alone to deal with the issue at hand, he stepped down into the cabin and threw the latch that barred the door, letting it swing open with a slow creak.

The curtains were drawn and none of the lamps had been lit, and so it took his eyes a few moments to adjust to the dark. Through the gloom he finally saw Marilyn, looking like a phantom version of herself, merely a greyish shadow in the faint light from one of the portholes. She was still in her nightclothes, her hand extended out the small open window and into the rain and the wind. The stiffening in her stance gave away the fact that she knew he’d entered, but she didn’t deign to acknowledge his presence beyond that.

“What am I to do with ye, Doc?” he asked quietly, leaning against the doorway with his arms folded in front of him.

“You alluded to it last night, Captain,” she answered in an ethereal whisper. “If I was one of the men and had crossed you, I’d be dead. I’m not interested in asking for forgiveness –kill me now and be done with it.”

“And ease yer guilt by makin’ it mine?” he scoffed, straightening and taking a step towards her. “Nay, ye can live with yer perfidy and a long life do I wish for ye, far from those who raised and sheltered ye. Alone ye’ll be with the thought of what ye did to haunt ye fer the rest of yer days.”

She turned her head, angry tears streaking over her worn and weary face. “You won’t grant me even that one mercy, after all I’ve done for you?”

“Yer deceit threatened not only ‘Lizabeth, but all of us!” he yelled, his arms coming apart and his fists clenching as the rage and hurt emerged once more. Finally she flinched, perhaps sensing the true depth of his anger. “Did ye truly think we’d be left untouched by the blackguards intent on seizing control of the wreck? That they’d not seek to cut down the lot of us, knowin’ that if they did any different, we’d hunt them down and use their guts fer garters?”

Marilyn looked stricken and tugged anxiously on her long pale locks. “I didn’t realize...I didn’t think about that, not until you came back last night. They’d promised...”

“Too old ye are to be so naive,” he sneered, waving off her denial. “Too long have ye lived among pirates to believe that a bargain struck offerin’ ye that kind of provision be made of anythin’ but ash.”

“Okay, maybe I did want to hurt you, too!” she suddenly screamed, whirling around on him with wild eyes. “I’ve never been more to any of you than a convenient servant, someone to rely on but never really see! You and the others...as long as I do my job and keep quiet, you’re happy to have me around. Good ol’ Marilyn, always does as asked and never complains...why, she’s hardly even a person. Not a true member of your crew, just someone hanging around the edges of your world. Why did it never occur to any of you to ask what it is that I wanted?”

“And what would ye have answered?” he spat unpleasantly, knowing even as he did what she’d say.

Marilyn looked surprised at his question before turning back to the porthole, trying to conceal her humiliation. “I wanted you to love me. That’s all. Not her...me.”

“We took ye in as a child,” he said, his tone softening somewhat. “And so ye’ve remained in mind’s eye, even though yer hair has turned to silver and time has robbed ye of yer youth. Ne’er could I have thought of ye as anythin’ else. Hate me fer it if ye will, but even if I hadn’t found ‘Lizabeth Swann again, I’d not have been able to look at ye in such a way.”

She fell silent then as she gazed out at the storm, tears staining her cheeks. The trawler rocked upon the waves and the explosions of thunder punctuated the quiet that ticked by within the tiny room.

“Yes, your precious Elizabeth,” she hissed at last, the sorrow in her voice turning to acid. “Do you think that when she is my age, you’ll look at her in such a way? The sun will burn wrinkles into her face, too...her hair will turn white, her tits will sag...and then what, Captain?”

She turned and walked slowly towards him, her eyes wide and her grin macabre. “Will you still long for her touch upon your skin when her hands are gnarled and bony? When it’s an old woman with death fast on her heels who lies beside you in the night...will your heart remain quite so enamoured?”

It was Hector’s turn for surprise, rocked through to his soul by what Marilyn had said. It would be decades before Elizabeth looked to be the same age as he, but could he remain constant in love and loyalty past that? His heart answered a clear and resounding yes...she would be who she was, time or not. Loving her less simply wasn’t possible.

“Always...” he muttered, more to himself than Marilyn. But as Elizabeth got old, could he face watching her fade away? Could he handle the inevitable loss, knowing that he would have to continue on without her? His heart felt tight at the previously unexplored thought that such might come to pass.

“Can you say the same for her, then?” Marilyn went on spewing her vitriol, grabbing handfuls of his coat in her withered claws and crowing up into his face with vicious glee. “Will you live a lie until you can no longer deny that your back is as straight and strong as ever, that you don’t suffer the aches and pangs of old age, or the loss of agility and vigour? Beautiful as she is now, she’d not be able to bear to have you touch her when her body tires and wears out, and she no longer sees herself as desirable.”

Hector stared down at her and a swell of crimson rage swept across his vision. He freed himself from Marilyn’s hold and threw her hard against the wall, wrapping one large hand around her neck and slamming her with enough force to elicit a raspy moan of pain from the woman.

“Ye don’t love me half so well as ye think, Doc, to say such things and take pleasure in me pain!” he shouted. “Ye pour poison into me ear to try to soothe the ache of yer own heart and to justify yer crime! ‘Llizabeth herself once told me how black me heart was, but it’s nary so dark as yers.”

Almost without a thought he swung his other arm up, ready to slap her across the room. As she cowered before him, though, he stayed his hand and shook his head. No, it was enough of a sentence to send her away for her trespass. He’d not struck a woman in anger since he’d been upon the Isle de la Muerte and had done just that to Elizabeth for deceiving him about her bloodline. Even though he’d done so in that unnatural and desperate state, the injury he’d inflicted upon her then had preyed upon his mind for a long time to follow.

He released his grasp upon Marilyn and let her slide to the floor where she clenched and rubbed at her throat. “Just because what I say is ugly, Hector, doesn’t mean it isn’t true,” she coughed, her watery eyes brimming with hatred.

“Tell yerself what ye like, harridan,” he growled. “But think not that ye know me heart or hers.”

“You deserve your fate, then,” she retorted, curling her arms around her knees and pulling herself into a ball, rocking back and forth. “Go back to her, hide behind the lie and pretend that love will conquer all. I’m living proof of that falsehood.”

He turned away, ready to leave but then hesitated. “Now who tries to give life to a lie? Pretend that what ye felt fer me was love if ye wish, but nothin’ so putrid or selfish should be allowed to be called such.”

Hector had just made it to the door when he heard an unmistakable click, the one that signalled that someone had chambered a round. He slowly turned back around to see Marilyn shakily pointing a small .22 calibre handgun at him. He was angry with himself for the oversight - idiot that he was, he’d not told his men to search her ship for weapons. Never occurred to him that she’d have any or that she’d know how to use one.

“Think on what yer doin’, Doc,” he warned, taking a careful step back towards her. “Bein’ marooned be a far cry preferable to bein’ dead...trust someone who’d know. Ye can’t kill me with somethin’ so small but dead ye’ll be afore I even feel the bullet. That I promise ye.”

Marilyn gave a frightening laugh and gestured towards him with the gun. “I don’t want to kill you, Captain Barbossa. But I am going to give you something that will be hard to explain away.”

The sound of the blast was deafening due the close quarters and the hot tear of lead through his thigh brought him to one knee. He roared and grabbed at his leg, looking at her in disbelief as he gritted his teeth against the burning pain.

“Yer dead where ye stand, Marilyn,” he gasped, trying to find enough purchase against the wall to stand. The blood on his hands made the wood slick, though, and he slumped back down, sweat breaking out on his brow as throbbing agony spread through his thigh. Any other day and he knew that his men would be rushing to investigate a gunshot, but the chaos of the storm had likely drowned it out.

“You should be careful threatening someone with a gun, don’t you think?” she mocked, stepping back and taking aim at him again.

He moved as quickly as his injury would allow, rolling across the floor to grab hold of the hem on her long gown. Hector yanked hard and she lost her balance, shrieking and falling to her rear end with a solid thump. The gun flew from her hand and slid just out of reach, and she scraped her hands against the wood, trying to jerk loose from his hold to crawl after it. Reaching down towards his ankle, Hector scrambled to pull the knife from his boot. It finally came free and with a grunt, he drove it through the loose fabric of Marilyn’s gown and into the floorboards, pinning her in place.

He struggled to his feet and holding a hand tightly over his wound, limped across the floor to where the weapon had slid. He opened it up and emptied the chambers, letting the rounds fall to the floor around him. Starting to feel faint from the loss of blood, he slumped down into a chair and panted heavily. She must have hit an artery – otherwise he’d not be bleeding so heavily.

Marilyn shrieked from where she was tacked to the floor, tugging frantically on the handle of the knife in an attempt to free herself. At long last, someone aboveboard heard something of the commotion and he could hear heavy footsteps coming down the stairs.

“St. Pat’s rats! The captain’s been hurt! Blood ev’rywhere!” exclaimed ginger-haired Mike Flaherty, the first one through the door.

“Get me somethin’ to tie it off, ye stupid sot, or there’ll be more upon the floor than in me body!” Hector hollered. True that it was hard to kill one such as he, but a fatal wound was not impossible. He’d be damned, though, if he’d shuffle off the mortal coil after a fight with an old woman.

Galvanized into action, the crewman swiped the bandanna from his head and kneeled over by his captain, knotting the fabric above the seeping wound to staunch the flow. As other crewmen made their way into the cabin and upon the bloody scene, he leaned forward and grabbed hold of Flaherty’s collar, pulling him closer. To Hector’s utter horror, his hand was shaking and he clenched it tighter, willing it to still.

“Get her locked up now, and find me a scalpel and some surgical dressings,” he snarled at Flaherty. Healed fast, he did, courtesy of his near-immortal state of being, but the mending couldn’t start until the shot was removed. Would prefer not to have to fix and dress his own wounds, but time was running out along with his life blood.

“Doc! Heads up, she’s got the knife!” yelled one of the men and everyone turned. Marilyn must have kicked it free somehow, Hector decided; his strength had to have been waning already when he stabbed it into the wood; elseways she’d never have been able to move it.

“Keep the hell away from me, all of you!” she screeched, whipping the knife around in front of her as the crew advanced slowly. Her chest heaved and her eyes bulged out of her head with fear. The men stopped where they were, but one by one started to draw weapons.

“Stand down,” Hector told his men, wincing at the spasms in his thigh. It was taking more effort than he could sustain to keep a coherent thought in his head. “There be nowhere she can go that we can’t find her.”

Marilyn’s frantic gaze returned to his, her expression morphing from terror to hatred, and then to a pathetic entreaty within a few moments. “Please...I don’t want to leave. You’re all I ever had...”

As he looked upon her, a memory surfaced of Marilyn as a young girl, smiling down at him from the riggings, pushing her fly-away hair up under her hat as she tied down a sail. Happy she’d been to have a family, even one so unconventional as that they offered. Shaking his head, he pushed the vision to the side, knowing he couldn’t let what she had meant to him – to all of them – sway him in his duty.

“Perhaps that should have been top o’ mind when ye made a deal with yer accomplices,” he said, his spirit laid low. “There be no coming back from what ye did. Give o’er the knife, Doc, and it’ll be exile instead of death as was promised.”

The last hope faded from her eyes and was replaced with cold loathing. “There’s a world of hurt coming for all of you. I’ll die, but at least I know that the Blackhearts are finished and Elizabeth Swann along with them.”

Before they could grab it away, Marilyn clenched Hector’s dagger tightly in both hands and thrust it to the very hilt into her chest, arching her back and screaming out against the steely intrusion. Blood spurted from where the blade was buried in her body and splattered across the floor, mixing with the blood that had already spilled from Hector’s leg. She went into jerky spasms in front of them before finally stilling and slumping into a tangled heap. By the time Hector stumbled over to her and lifted her up, the gurgling rattle of her wet breath was already giving testament to the end of her life.

A cold ache filled Hector’s chest and he squeezed his eyes tightly shut against the heartbreak. Marilyn’s slight and lifeless body lay limp in his arms, her eyes staring sightless and empty. “When I find them as caused us this anguish,” he swore, shuddering as more pain moved through his leg and his vision became dimmer, “I’ll be cutting out their spleens with the very same knife, mark me words.”

He carefully laid her down upon the boards, moving his palm over her face to close her eyes. At that point, Marilyn’s ship seemed to tilt to starboard and he slowly tumbled over on his side, his cheek resting against the sticky wet floorboards.

“Captain, stay with us now! Ye two, there...help me get him back to his ship! We’ll deal with him there!” ordered Flaherty, kneeling beside him with a tight hand on Hector’s shoulder.

“No...” Hector protested weakly. “’Lizabeth is not to see this...won’t have it...”

“Not another word, sir. Come on, ye slack-jawed idiots...step lively!”

The sounds started to mix together and it became impossible for Hector to discern whose voice was whose. Never listened when they needed to, this bunch. He just needed a rest, was all...he’d be fine with a rest. With that final thought, the grey mists moved in and the others disappeared entirely.

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Oooooo! What will happen next??? Tune in soon...same Barbossabeth time, same Barbossabeth channel.