The Map

A/N: Usual disclaimer – own nothing.

Thanks to AniSparrow for her great editing and correcting. Any problems remaining are mine and mine alone. Sorry for the delay and hope it’s worth the wait.


Chapter 38

A short trip around the maypole


Nell leant over the rail looking down at the activity of the dockside - fishermen mingled with pirates and other locals, all going about their business. She sighed, searching for signs of Jack or Hock on the wharf but they were nowhere to be seen. They had escorted her back to the Black Pearl after leaving the tavern and then had gone back onto the island to supervise the supplies, although Nell had an idea that the supervising would be done from inside the tavern and with another bottle of rum. But maybe she was doing him an injustice; then again, maybe she wasn’t.

She could see some of the crew of the Pearl busy loading the supplies onto the boats and it occurred to her that their manner was subdued and the usual laughter and coarse language that accompanied their work was not present. Nell could see the bruises and cuts on the faces of the ones who had returned from the island; she could also see that it was still obviously at the forefronts of their minds - it would take more than a few days and a few drinks before they would be able to rationalise what they had seen and then, as was the custom, turn the whole experience into nothing more than a tale to be told round a fire, embellished and padded out, until each story teller, single handedly fought the monks and was victorious. She would have found it funny, she might even find it funny later; but not now, not when her own memories were too sharp. She had let herself be distracted in the Book and Bell, but now she was on her own, her mind wouldn’t allow her to push it to the back. She had been certain she’d heard the chanting of monks in the market, but Hock had given no indication he’d heard them; then there had been the priest…

Nell looked down at her hands remembering, with a shudder, the grip he’d had her. She had been certain he’d spoken to her about absolution; certain that he’d mentioned the monks. Her hand went to the back of her head and shifted through her hair and she gave a gasp of pain as her fingers caught at a tangle of knotted, matted hair over a bump on her skin; she drew her fingers away and was surprised to see the blood that was smeared on their tips. So she definitely hadn’t imagined falling backwards and hitting her head, and for some reason, there was a measure of relief in that knowledge. She pressed her fingers back on the bump and was a little disconcerted when she saw the amount of blood that covered her fingers when she drew them away again, reasoning that she had disturbed the cut and had probably made it worse; she needed to have it cleaned up, but as she couldn’t see herself the extent of the cut, she would have to ask someone to do it, but she didn’t want to have to explain what had lead to her hitting her head. She couldn’t ask one of the crew or Lady Clarence as it would involve more questions than she was prepared to answer. Nell narrowed her eyes as she studied the dock once more; an idea formed in her mind, she was sure that she could find her way back to the doctors that Jack had called on for the Turners, she would ask for his help and no one else need ever know.

She looked towards the gangplank and waited till she could slip unseen down the plank and onto the cobbled surface of the dock, and made her way through the throng of people, not realising she was holding her breath until, when she was finally out of sight of the Pearl, she let it out on a deep sigh.

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Jack was happy with the deal he had struck and let the goods he had bought slip into his pocket. He looked the priest up and down and smiled genially at him.

“A confession is confidential isn’t it?” he asked cheerfully, the slur pronounced in his voice, matching the smell of rum that came from his breath.

“You wish to confess?” asked the priest doubtfully. It had been a strange day indeed and he was just waiting for the time he could shut and bar the door and retire to his rooms behind the main church.

Jack merely laughed in reply. “Would be wasting both of our time, Father,” he slurred. “No, I was just wondering how many of me crew has passed through your doors this day?” He didn’t phrase it as a question, but he arched one dark eyebrow at the priest and swayed slightly.

“None that I know of,” the priest replied quietly. “Pirates don’t usually frequent churches.”

“No,” Jack agreed amiably. “But my young friend, Nell; she confessed earlier; but then she’s not technically a pirate, not yet anyway.” He nodded as if he was stating a fact, not fishing for information.

The priest frowned, wondering why the name Nell sounded familiar, especially as he had not had confession with any ladies that day.

“I have given confession to no one this day. I don’t usually give confession today.” The priest frowned at Jack, his hands in front of him, his bible clutched tightly in his fingers.

“Ah!” Jack peered at him swaying slightly to the left. “But I was sure, Miss Nell was in here; in fact I was waiting for her outside.”

“Oh!” Realisation dawned on the priests face and Jack saw something else light in his eyes.

“She didn’t cause you trouble I hope?!” laughed Jack. “She can be quite a handful at times.”

“She was…” The priest stopped and eyed Jack carefully, unsure what to say to this obviously slightly drunk pirate. He had no idea if he was truly the friend he stated to be, but then the young lady had been playing on his mind. She had seemed so upset by something, had ranted at him that he had said something, even though he had only been praying for her.

Jack remained quiet, knowing that sometimes people talked more without prompting them. He raised his eyebrow and placed his hands together under his chin, the tips touching the start of the braid that hung from his chin.

“She was very upset over something she thought I said,” the priest spoke hesitantly at first. “I was praying over her and she panicked over something.”

“Something?” Jack kept his face clear of emotions or his intentions.

“Monks, or something,” came the cautious reply. “I told her there are no monks on Aruba and she fell backwards and banged her head on the floor. I tried to help her, but she ran out…” he stopped and took a deep breath. “How was her face bruised and cut?”

Jack looked at him and lowered his hands slowly, his mind working over what the priest had told him. “Dreadful with her drink,” he explained flapping his hands as he spoke. “Can’t hold her drink, but will insist on trying, bless her!”

“Has a habit of falling over does she?” asked the priest disbelievingly but Jack merely grinned at him.

“Only when she’s drunk, but then don’t we all?” Jack laughed and patted the pocket of his coat. “I must be moving on, a tide to catch and all. T’was a pleasure doing business with you.”

“It was hardly business,” the priest coloured up. “But I do appreciate the generous gift you have given us, and so does the Lord.”

“I’m sure…” Jack resisted snorting and instead tipped his hat and left the church, swaying and whistling as he walked.

Hock was outside and leaning against the wall, much the same way as he’d been when he was waiting for Nell earlier. He saw Jack come out and straightened up immediately.

“Did you find one?” he asked, knowing why Jack had gone in there.

“Aye,” Jack nodded. “And now I need to be seeing, Nell.”

“She’ll be surprised and pleased I’ve no doubt,” Hock said cheerfully as they made their way back to the ship.

“I’m not so sure,” Jack murmured. “She left an impression on the priest.”

Hock looked down at Jack in surprise. “How?”

“Apparently she thought the priest was a monk or something.” Jack’s hands danced with his words, looking as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

“She thought what?” choked Hock. “But she… I mean why… what...”? Hock was completely thrown with Jack’s statement and could only think of one word to say. “Huh?”

“Ostensibly she started ranting at him about monks, he tried to tell her there are no monks on Aruba; oh, and she fell and hit her head.”

“Are you sure she hit her head after saying that about the monks and not before?” Hock cleared his throat; his initial surprise had worn off and was now replaced with concern. “She seemed perfectly all right in the Book and Bell… well, no she didn’t, did she? Not at first anyway; I thought she was thinking about the island.” Hock took a deep breath and carried on again. “Well, I mean she obviously was thinking about the island, but a little more than I thought. Are you sure she didn’t hit her head first? She could have knocked herself a little silly; round the maypole silly, mayhap the doctor should see her!”

Jack listened to Hock ramble with some surprise, although he kept it well hidden. He knew that Hock was fond of Nell, most of his crew were, but it was clear that Hock was more than a little disturbed for Nell; he had known on the island that Hock would defend Nell to the death, but he had assumed that some of that came from loyalty to him as Captain, but now he saw that Nell commanded her own loyalty from him just by being herself. It would have made him smile with pride if he wasn’t so concerned.

“She didn’t knock her head first; not according to the priest, who, to be sure, was not lying,” Jack stated quietly when Hock stopped to draw breath again. “It was only yesterday; things happened to her on that place, things I’m not even sure about yet. I need to have a bloody good talk with her, but that’s nigh on impossible with the Commodore and his bloody side-kick breathing down her neck!”

“I can keep them occupied!” Hock said slyly and grinned with evil intent making him look sinister.

“Aye, well, nothing that’ll permanently scar them,” Jack grinned back. “Funny thing, but they’ve grown on me, a bit like fungus really.” He laughed but it was shaded with concern for Nell.

“Even though the red-coat has designs on Nell?” asked Hock his mind diverted for a few minutes.

“I can’t fault him on excellent taste,” Jack replied, relieved to see the Pearl ahead of them. He quickened his pace, not noticing as his swagger became more apparent. “She’ll probably be in her cabin,” he mused to himself as they walked up the gangplank. “Check the lads and the supplies; I want to leave as soon as possible, this is dragging on and I don’t like things dragging on, makes my feet itch.”

“Aye, Capt’n,” Hock said and began to walk away. He stopped and looked back over his shoulder at Jack but he was already striding down the corridor to the cabins.

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Nell realised with a sinking feeling that she had no idea which street would lead to the doctor, or which cottage would be his. She thought she could remember, but when faced with the reality of every street and house looking remarkably like the rest, she had to admit that she was lost. She turned around and headed in the direction that she thought would lead her back to the dock and to the Black Pearl, but it soon became apparent that she had taken more wrong turns than right ones, and when she found herself on the outskirts of the village, unease and frustration began to edge into her mind.

She started back the way she had come, her earlier worries about having her head cleaned up was lost beneath the feelings of being lost in unfamiliar territory. It also crossed her mind that if she wasn’t back at the Pearl before Jack, he’d most likely realise she wasn’t there. She wasn’t all together sure how he’d react, but one thing was sure, he’d be angry with her - and making Jack angry seemed to be what she did best these days. Sighing she headed back down the street, realising that she’d acted stupidly and was now paying the price. Her fingers went to the bump on her head and she winced when the cut stung from the salt on her fingers; she was starting to develop a headache behind her eyes, but she didn’t think it was due to the bang but more to do with the situation she was finding herself in.

Nell could have kicked herself; Jack had made it quite clear that she was not to come ashore without him or Hock, and here she was, walking down some street that looked just like the last three she’d tried, completely alone and defenceless except for the dagger in her boot. She lifted her eyebrows as she remembered the dagger; it wouldn’t do her much good if it was in a place she couldn’t reach. She stopped and bent down, sliding the dagger from her boot and placed it into the waistband of her britches instead. A movement to her left side caught her eye and she turned her head sharply, just in time to see someone duck behind the corner of one of the alleys that dissected the streets. She frowned, a shiver going down her spine, and she hurried along, suddenly aware how deserted the streets seemed to be. Nell reached the end of the street and turning the corner, found herself in the street with the church; relief flooded through her and she quickened her pace as she headed down the street that she was sure lead to the dock. She could hear someone behind her for sure now, and her nerves were jangling when the street seemed to go on forever with no sign of the dock or the ship. The footsteps behind her matched hers, quickening when she did, slowing when she slowed; but whenever she turned the street was empty and there was no one to be seen, not even any villagers.

Nell hurried along now, her hands clenched at her sides, her mind working feverishly over who was behind her. Her mind began to torment her with images of monks, or half-eaten crew members and she let out a sob and broke into a run, certain now that her life was going to end at any minute. She could feel them gaining on her, could hear the footsteps pounding behind her; could almost feel the hands clutching at her shirt, trying to drag her back. With a sob of relief she saw the dock ahead of her and the solid black presence of the Black Pearl was there, but her foot caught on something and she fell forwards, stumbling and just managing to keep upright. She whirled around, her hand going to the dagger in her waistband; a strangled cry of horror left her lips when she saw who was standing behind her.

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Jack frowned as he came back out onto the deck; if Nell was keeping company with the Commodore and Bryant so be it, but he was a little disconcerted with the way it made him feel. Damn Hock for asking him outright what he’d refused to acknowledge so openly. He crossed the deck, his eyes on where the supplies were being stowed below board. They were nearly finished or at least that was how it appeared; he saw Hock and lifted a hand in his direction, his fingers dancing as he called out to him.

“Nearly done, Mister Hock? Crew all aboard now?”

“Aye, Capt’n,” Hock called out and crossed towards him with Gibbs in tow.

“We’re ready to head straight out, Jack,” Gibbs scratched at his chest through the open front of his shirt. “Some of the men are a little restless at not having shore leave, but they understand what’s what,” he murmured quietly.

“Excellent, well they’ll be whoring themselves a plenty at Tortuga soon enough. As soon as you’re ready, Mister Gibbs, cast off.”

Gibbs nodded his head, a big grin on his face as he headed towards the stairs that lead to the helm. Hock looked towards the cabin and then back at Jack questionably.

“She’s not there,” Jack said by way of explanation. “Probably visiting with the Commodore and his lackey, or maybe her ladyship.”

Hock shook his head, a frown between his eyes. “Tilly’s asleep, and the red-coats are alone - I saw them as I passed back from looking in on Tilly. Nell’s not below deck, unless she’s with Soames or Dwent or someone else.”

Jack sighed and stuck his hands on his hips. “She’s probably rigged herself up a job somewhere stacking the supplies.” He rolled his eyes at Hock and carried on below deck to where Soames and Jimmy were both storing the food supplies with the help of Coales and Dwent.

“Miss Nell been helping?” Jack asked them, frustrated when they all replied that they hadn’t seen her. It quickly became apparent that, unless she was in the hold or the bilges, which he doubted greatly, she wasn’t on the ship. Frustration turned to anger, which was quickly overshadowed by alarm at the realisation she was alone and ashore. Swearing loudly he returned above deck and belayed his last orders to Gibbs before barking orders for several crew to go ashore and start a search for Nell, Hock and Dwent amongst them, and they headed down onto the docks to look for her.

“Where do you think she is?” asked Hock, his voice was low and he showed no signs of any emotion, but his eyes were dark with concern.

“Hell only knows!” Jack barked angrily. “But I know where she’ll be when I find her; over my bloody knee having her backside tanned, is where she’ll be!”

Dwent snorted in agreement and kept pace with them as they headed towards the church. “Ye be finkin’ she’s confessin’?” he asked, completely unaware of her earlier visit to the church.

“I hope so,” Jack replied, although he knew confession would be the last thought on her mind. “Bloody women!” he cursed in exasperation. “Why can’t they just be straightforward like us men?” he groused to no one in particular. “Don’t go ashore without us I tell her! So what does she do? Goes ashore without us!”

“Maybe the bang to her head was more serious than we thought,” Hock spoke quietly but it made Jack stop in his tracks and then, turning on his heel, he changed direction, banging squarely into Hock as he turned. Hock almost fell over but Jack caught his arm and held him up.

“Brilliant, Mister Hock, she’s taken herself to the doctors to look at her head. Well done; but next time I’d be grateful if you could watch where you’re going!” Jack slapped him on the back and headed quickly towards the doctor’s little cottage. Hock rolled his eyes at Dwent and the two men followed their very strange pirate captain.

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His face was unpainted but it didn’t need to be for Nell to realise who was behind her. Not only had the monks followed her, of that she was now sure, but the islanders were here too. Her breathing was hitched as he stayed back from her, watching her with the dark eyes she remembered well, not only from the memories of the monks but the sight of the islanders themselves when she had walked through their village. She shook her head, desperately trying to make the image of him disappear but it became clear he was going nowhere.

“What do you want?” she whispered, her heart in her throat and her stomach in her boots. Terrors clawed at her skin, raising every hair on her body as she stared, like a panicked animal, at the islander in front of her. “What do you want?” she repeated her voice slightly raised; but he made no reply and made no movement either towards her or away from her.

“Miss Nell!” a shout from behind her had her turning her head quickly. Soames was coming towards her with Coales and Jimmy. She turned back quickly to the islander and let out a gasp when the space he had stood in was now empty.

“Miss Nell, what yer playin’ at? Capt’n’s in a right tizz over yer slippin’ ship!” Soames’s voice was sharp as he drew level with her.

“Are you slippin’ ship? Have ye decided to stay ‘ere?” Jimmy asked worriedly.

Nell looked at him, but their words made little impression on her as she looked away again at where the islander had been standing. “Did you see him?” she asked them quietly, already frightened of the answer.

“Who?” asked Coales and looked around them. “Ain’t no one ‘ere but us, Miss. Best ye go aboard - I’ll go and tell the Capt’n we found ye like!” He turned and left them quickly.

“Who, Miss?” Jimmy stepped forwards and looked about him; his arm was no longer in a sling but was still heavily bandaged.

“Did you see anyone here with me?” asked Nell trying to keep the sudden fear from her voice.

Soames stepped forwards and slung his good arm around his shoulders. “Listen to me, Miss. Yer tired and ye’ve been through a lot the last couple of days; ‘ell, weeks even, countin’ what ye’ve learned about yer guardian and yer back an’ all. Let’s be ‘avin’ ye back aboard and ye can ‘ave some shut-eye. Ye need it, Miss, no offence, but yer whiter than a ghost.”

“Probably because I just saw one,” Nell mumbled allowing him to lead her towards the docks, thankful for the weight of his arm around her. She stopped at the base of the plank and looked back, but there was still no sign of what she’d seen earlier, then turned and looked up at Soames as she slipped away from him.

“Thank you for bringing me back,” she muttered, and without another word she scurried up the plank and went below deck.

The moment her feet reached the bottom step she found herself facing Bryant and Norrington and neither of them looked that happy with her. Nell took a deep breath and passed them making her way towards the galley.

“What on earth were you thinking of, Nell?” It was Bryant’s who spoke but she knew they were both following her.

“I was looking for the doctor,” she said quietly and entered the galley and started to look for something she could wipe her head with.

“What for?” asked Norrington sharply. “Are you unwell? Is it Will? Is he worse?”

Nell hesitated slightly as she realised she hadn’t thought once about the Turners; she hadn’t asked Jack how the doctor had got on with them. Did that make her bad person? Her thoughts were vague as she drew a cloth from the drawer. She was beginning to feel as if she were above the whole thing and looking down on herself; as if she were watching a play, it was all very vague and dream like.

“Nell?” Bryant stepped forward to try and see her face. She looked up at him and sighed heavily.

“I cut my head when I fell; I was hoping he could patch me up.” She turned away from him; she was beginning to feel very tired; no longer sure of what was real or not; whether she was seeing and hearing things or if she was imagining it. She sighed again and rubbed the top of her nose.

“Let me see,” Bryant stepped forwards and placing his hands on her shoulders he eased her down onto a chair and gently parted her hair. “Ouch, Nell!” he looked at where Norrington was organising water. He took the cloth from her hand and gently pushed her head forwards till he could see clearly. “What happened?”

“I fell, banged my head on a stone floor,” she spoke quietly, her eyes on her clenched hands in her pocket. “I didn’t realise it was bleeding until I touched it earlier - I think I made it worse.”

“Well, there’s not much blood, but there’s a big bruise around it. How did you fall?” he spoke casually.

“Backwards,” she replied equally indifferently, unwilling to say anything to him at all about what had happened.

Bryant rolled his eyes at Norrington. “That I had already gathered - I meant, how did you come to fall? Was if an accident or were you pushed?”

“Accident,” Nell replied again and flinched slightly when he began to clean the blood away from the cut.

“Does Jack know you’re back aboard?” Norrington asked watching as Bryant dipped the cloth into the bowl. Blood swirled through the water making him look to see how bad the cut was.

“Jack does indeed know…” came a familiar slur that made Nell stiffen. “At least he does now!”

Norrington looked round at where the pirate captain was coming through the low doorway; his hat was missing but his bandana was present as always. Jack stopped beside them and put his hands on his hips as he peered at the back of Nell’s head.

“Ouch, indeed!” he exclaimed and took the cloth from Bryant without even looking at him. “You can both go now...” His voice was casually slurred as always, but the edge of steel beneath the surface told them both he was not expecting them to disagree.

Norrington indicated for Bryant to leave the room and together they went out; Bryant was a little reluctant but good sense prevailed and they were soon left alone.

Nell had kept her head down the whole time; her teeth worried at her bottom lip as she waited for Jack to speak. She heard him damped the cloth before he gently began to clean the cut on her head.

Nothing was said by either of them and the silence was heavy and tense; Jack finally finished and she sat up, her hair falling back away from her face. She looked at him, but he was wiping his hands on a cloth, his back to her. His coat was on and the dirty tails of the bandana hung down his back; his sword was in its place and she could just see the handle of his pistol at his waist.

“You’re cross with me,” she said quietly, her hands clenching and unclenching in her lap. He turned to face her, leaning one hip against the table; one and went to his braids and the other to his hip. “Which, of course, you have the perfect right to be,” she added almost lamely.

Jack arched one eyebrow as he looked down at her. “Glad you think so,” he slurred and pushed himself from the table to hoist himself up onto it instead. “Nell, I know you’re not stupid and I know you’re not a fool, which leaves me in a quandary. Why, I’m asking myself, would an intelligent women who had been warned of the dangers of going ashore alone, then completely disregard everything told to her and go ashore alone?”

“I…” Nell looked up at him and shrugged. “I didn’t know I’d hurt my head. I saw the blood and, well, I didn’t think.”

“I’ll go out on a limb here and completely disagree with you.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “See, the way I’m seeing things is that you did think. You did a lot of thinking before slipping ship; you didn’t want anyone to know about your head otherwise you’d have asked Mister Benjamin to see it.” He shrugged his shoulders, his eyes holding hers. “So why did you not want anyone to know, or more to the point, me?”

Nell’s tired brain struggled to find a way around his questions but she could only look at him, her fingers tightly clenched in her lap still.

“How did you hurt your head?” he asked her quietly. “Falling backwards won’t be enough for me; to be sure, I’m not that easy to push aside.”

Nell sighed and unclenched her fingers to rub at her temples. “I fell in the church. I didn’t know I’d cut myself till we were back aboard and I didn’t want to worry anyone.”

“I saw the priest,” he said quietly and waited, seeing the panic in her eyes the moment his words registered. “Nell, whatever you think you saw or heard wasn’t real.”

Nell shook her head and jumped to her feet; his hand shot out and caught her wrist tugging her round to face him.

“It was…” Nell shook her head again and looked at him. “It seemed real,” she whispered. “I would have sworn on the Lord that I heard him talk about the monks… but now?” Nell closed her eyes briefly before opening them and looking directly at him. “Now I can’t even remember what he said – not exactly; it’s like a dream that’s faded. I was wrong in going back ashore and I’m sorry; but…” she hesitated. “I wasn’t sure… at first it was so clear and then when I saw you, it seemed to be hazy as if I’d dreamt it. I didn’t want you to know about my head because…” she shrugged. “I think I might be losing my mind.” She tried to laugh but failed.

Jack opened his legs and tugged her forwards till she was stood between his knees. He took her hand and turned it palm up and using his other hand traced the lines that criss-crossed her skin.

“Yesterday you were in a nightmare,” he said softly no slur present in his voice at all. “You’ve lived in a nightmare that’s become progressively worse over the last few months.” He drew her closer still and rested her head against his shoulder, his hands slipping around her waist. “You have to give yourself time and you have to let it out, talk about it - I want to know what happened to you on that island. I want you to tell me everything, leave nothing out, and for God’s sake, trust me with it. No one will disturb us; I’ve made sure of that - trust me, Nell.”

Nell lost herself in his hold, her arms creeping around his neck; her guard was down, and she felt defeated and weary. “I don’t know where to start.”

“I’ve always found the beginning to be a good place,” he replied with no mockery in his voice. “Start with walking across the sand, when Jones was caught by the quicksand…” He felt her tense up and just stopped her from withdrawing from him. “Nell, darlin’, one thing I’ve learned from my one hundred and twenty years on this earth,” he grinned slightly, “when dark things happen to you, the worst place you can keep them is hidden in the corners of your mind. When I realised the curse on the Pearl was true, I was intrigued. I’d seen things, heard things before; but not like that and then, when it was all over, and I was back aboard the Pearl and young William was wooing Elizabeth, it hit me. Rum’s always been a good friend, always will be, but talking, and talking to someone who saw what you saw? It puts light into the dark corners, takes away the scary bits, makes them manageable - maybe not fathomable, but manageable indeed. If you don’t – then those corners grow and grow until your entire mind is a black corner and there’s no way out of that.”

“I don’t think you’ve ever been scared,” Nell said weakly, knowing he was right but unwilling to start the process.

“Not often, I’ll grant you, but to be sure, I can think of a few times in recent years when I’ve been scared out of my skin,” he muttered darkly.

“When that… thing… was in the cave?” asked Nell and was surprised when he shook his head. “What was it for you?”

“I’ll tell you later, for now I want you to talk,” he replied quietly. Nell shuddered slightly and began talking; slowly at first and most definitely reluctantly, but once she started the words began to flow freely.

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“He can’t still be in there!” Bryant said hotly when Hock stopped him from entering the galley.

“Aye, still with Miss Nell.” Hock smirked and watched Bryant’s face, relishing the reaction Bryant didn’t quite manage to hide quickly enough.

“It doesn’t take that long to tend to a cut!” Bryant announced despite the warning look Norrington sent him.

“No,” Hock agreed gleefully. “But then, the Captain is a thorough man!”

Bryant nearly choked on his tongue and started towards the steps, but Hock caught him quickly by the back of the shirt and dragged him back.

“He doesn’t want disturbing,” he said, none of the humour showing now. “In fact, he made it quite clear that he didn’t want either of you there anymore.”

“But, she’s….” Bryant stopped unsure what to say. He’d known that Nell was in love with Jack, but he was also fairly certain the feelings were not returned and now he was sure that Jack was using her and he said so firmly. “He’s taking advantage of her!”

“Relax!” Hock laughed. “He’s talking to her, that’s all…” He pulled a face. “At least I think that’s all; but with the Capt’n, you never can tell.”

“Blast it, man!” Norrington restrained Bryant from trying to go down the steps again. “Do you have to rub his nose in it? Have you no compassion?” He glared at Hock who was watching Bryant with delight.

Hock scratched at his chest lazily watching Bryant gain his composure again. “I can’t help it; something about the colour red just makes my tongue loose.”

“Well, it obvious the truce is now well and truly over!” Bryant snapped angrily. “You’re pirates again.”

“We never stopped being pirates,” Hock said quietly. “Same as you never stopped being red-coats, and we never stopped remembering that.” He looked away from Bryant, his hand unconsciously going to his throat as he could almost feel the rope they’d tie round his neck if things went wrong later. He did not relish the idea of taking them straight into Port Royal and he’d told Jack as much; but Jack was more optimistic about Norrington’s honour to his word than he was. Hock was more sure of the notion that once a pirate hating red-coat, always a pirate hating red-coat. Damn, he’d be glad when they were all back to normal and he knew exactly where they stood; where they all stood.

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“It’s like a nightmare that I can’t wake from,” Nell admitted, pulling back from Jack to wipe at her face angrily. “I know it was only yesterday, but I’m sure Elizabeth and Will aren’t seeing things or hearing things,” she said with self-accusation.

“Well, actually they are.” Jack replied matter of factly. “After the doctor left them, Elizabeth drew me to one side and told me that twice she had thought she’d seen them in the room. She said she’d been dozing the first time and something woke her; she said she could have sworn there was a monk in the corner of the room. Will was awake already and saw nothing; Elizabeth is not losing her mind, she’s just reacting to what she’s been through and so are you.”

“I hope you’re right,” Nell whispered looking at him. “I really hope you’re right, because if you’re not…”

He touched his fingers to her lips stopping her from saying any more. “Of course I’m right; when have I ever been wrong?” he grinned at her.

“Jack, what if…” Nell stopped before taking a deep breath. “What if I really did see something?”

“Nell, you didn’t, we left them behind on the island.” He leant forwards and kissed her lips quickly. “Stop doing this to yourself - the more you think and dwell on it, the worse it’ll be.” Jack shifted forwards slightly on the table and drew her closer to him till only a few inches separated them. “You’ve had so much to deal with, Nell, not just the island but the fact that everything you thought was right is wrong. Your guardian and what he did to your back, the fact you have a brother…”

Nell sighed as he reminded of her of the brother she’d forgotten about. “Oh Lord, Stephen Wearing. Does that make me Nell Wearing or Nell Montilice now?” Nell mused vaguely. “I don’t really care anyway,” she said slowly, feeling deathly tired again; talking through everything with him had drained her more than she thought possible. “What’s a name anyway? At least it’s not De Mornay…” she frowned. “Although it could be, couldn’t it? It could be De Mornay if my mother gave me her family name as well.”

“Nell,” Jack pressed his fingers to her mouth, a small grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “Stop thinking so hard! Just let it flow; you can call yourself anything you want. What about Smith? Smith is a safe name.”

“Helen Smith? Nell Smith…” Nell let the name roll of her tongue. “I don’t feel like a Smith though. I knew a girl once whose last name was Smith; we took an instant dislike to each other in the convent school…”

Jack sighed and did the only thing he knew would work in shutting her up. He clutched the material of her shirt and pulled her forwards, his mouth closing over her still open mouth. She gave a startled sound before melting into him and winding her arms tightly around his neck. When she was in his arms – or even in his presence everything felt right; she was sure of herself and her courage in facing things.

Neither Jack nor Nell noticed the dark shadowy form that stood in the doorway watching them as they kissed.

A/N: , hopefully the next chapter won’t be so long. I know that Nell seems like a wet blanket at the moment, but she had only just got back aboard the Pearl from the Island so it’s going to take a while for her to adjust. But her newly acquired backbone will continue to develop as time goes on.

Thanks to everyone who has emailed or reviewed and indeed done both! It makes uploading a pleasure!

Have a great day wherever you are.

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