Kindred Spirits

Chapter 25



Thunder & Enlightening



When Devon awoke, it felt as though her head was locked in a vice and her mouth felt like it was made of well-worn leather… it was then that she felt a weight shift besides her. She slowly opened her eyes, but it seemed that her eyes did not want to cooperate with her this morning since all she could see was a blurry mixture shapes and colors. Like tha’s a real big ‘elp ta me when I would like ta know where th’ bloody ‘ell I am! The weight moved again, and moved nearer to her this time. She could feel the heat drawing closer. She wasn’t sure what it could be until she felt an arm possessively slung around her waist and felt something hard poking her in her lower back. Devon bit on her lower lip… there was something awfully familiar about this situation. Her nose also picked up a familiar scent, but in her current situation, she didn’t think that familiarity was necessarily a good thing. Actually, no it was not a good thing at all.



As she narrowed her eyes to attempt to gather any information from her surroundings, any of the familiarity she had previously, vanished instantly. She was somewhere she had never been before… Though when she realised that there was a slight rocking motion beneath her, she found that it eased her nerves somewhat. When she was finally able to see clearly, her gaze traveled along the beautifully decorated room she was in. There was ornately carved wood everywhere, and the wood was so dark that it seemed almost black. Ebony… jus’ gorgeous….



She was pulled from her reverie rather abruptly when she felt the arm wrap tighter around her waist. Now that she could see she risked a turn of her head to see who it was next to her… When she did, her nose barely missed someone else’s – Jack’s to be exact – who was sprawled out naked beside her. Good God, how did this happen... AGAIN? She was appalled… pure astonishment was clearly displayed on her face. During this moment of shock, something clicked in her mind and she quickly slid her hands back under the covers to check if she had clothes on. She breathed a sigh of relief when she felt clothing underneath her fingertips… she smoothed her hands down her blouse and her breeches, nothing was out of place, save the buttons are her blouse that were opened. To her surprise she could even feel that she was still wearing her boots. Wha’ in th’ Hell is goin’ on ‘ere? He be naked yet I be clothed, an’ to top it off we're in a bed together... AGAIN! But th’ question still remains: Where th’ devil are we? Her mind was working overtime attempting to figure this all out, when she suddenly remembered the map hidden inside her boot. She slowly slid her leg up, she felt inside the leather for the map, and found that it was still in its place. Devon was relieved, but still very uncomfortable while she remained in this position with Jack. She tried to shift herself into an upright position so that she could look around, but even with the slightest movement her head pounded hellishly. Scratch tha’ idea… She couldn't help but let herself fall back down on the mattress. Damn th’ darned rum. I’m ne’er gonna drink a single drop ‘gain!



‘Mornin’, luv... Feelin’ better are ye?’ Jack whispered, his voice hoarse as he twirled a strand of her hair between his bejeweled fingers. Last night he had studied the strange map for a while, but he couldn’t make heads or tails of it. So he called it a night, put the map back in its place, undressed himself and had snuggled close to Devon’s warm body in the bed. First he had found it difficult to get any sleep… tossing and turning for hours, and it wasn’t even because of the map oddly enough, but because of what he had done earlier in the night. Feeling Devon so close to him only made him feel guiltier about the whore. But when she had turned around and had snuggled into him, her head on his chest, his thoughts drifted away slowly and he finally fell asleep.



‘Dunno ‘bout better… given tha’ I feel like me head’s ‘bout ta explode – an’ where th’ devil are we by th’ way? An’ why is it tha’ I am with ye again?’ she asked as she rubbed her temples, as some of the events from the night before began to fall surreptitiously back in place in her mind. ‘An’ would ye please stop fiddlin’ wit’ me hair? It hurts…’



He grinned when he saw a most adorable frown grace her angered face, ‘Firstly, yer head might feel tha’ way ‘cause ye drank ‘bout a barrel o’ rum las’ night… Secondly, due ta tha’ heavy drinkin’ o’ yers, ye got quite sick, heaved an’ passed out, so therefore ye ‘ad ta be transported over ‘ere by means o’ me strong, masculine arms… An’ thirdly, this here is me quarters. Yer on th’ Pearl… th’ fastest an’ most beautiful ship in th’ whole Caribbean.’



‘Just bloody wonderful…’ she said flatly, as more flashes of last night came back to her. When she recalled the blonde stick figure in her thoughts she sprung out of bed, a bit too fast for her own good, and she had to hold her head in her hands because the pain was nauseating. She stumbled and fell backwards on the soft mattress that Jack still occupied.



‘I’d take things easy if I were ye, luv…’ he whispered. He knew all too well how much he hated to be yelled at or even spoken to in a normal tone of voice when he was in a similar position. He looked at her and reached up to tuck a loose curl behind her ear. ‘I mean a hangover like th’ one ye undoubtedly ‘ave, is not a thin’ ta be taken lightly…’



Devon pushed herself back up from the bed again, leaning heavily on the mattress with one hand and holding on to the bedpost with the other. No sooner had she finally got her to stand, when all the memories from the night before came back to her. She growled when she could finally remember why it was that she had that much to drink that night. ‘Ye shut yer filthy mouth ‘bout las’ nigh’! Tis ye an’ ye alone tha’ is th’ cause o’ all o’ this!’ Her head pounded more and more and she felt a sharp pain between her eyes. ‘Good God, me skull’s ‘bout ta burst…’



‘Me? Ye gulped it down yerself, I wasn't even there, sunshine,’ he defended as he flashed her one of his golden smiles. But that smile vanished as soon as he saw her beautiful eyes turn to ice, with feelings of hatred and vengeance swirling in their depths… The canon weight he had felt last night after he had bedded the whore and left the room, instantly dropped back on his chest.



Devon's anger was building up inside her at an alarming rate, she was so angry that she didn’t give a damn whether she should keep her mouth shut at the moment or not. She wanted him to be on the receiving end of her anger because she knew that he undoubtedly deserved it. ‘Me point exactly! Ye had ta go an’ screw tha’ stick-insect while everyone was downstairs!’ she hissed, grabbing her vest off a chair and trying to put it on. ‘Ye make me sick!’ She struggled as she tried to get her arms into the openings, but in state, her reflexes weren’t much better than her mood, so she failed and fidgeted with the leather for a while, getting even more dizzy, nauseated and angry in the process.



Jack stood up, not caring about his current state of undress and tried to aid her, but when he attempted to take her vest from her, she turned and forcefully drover her index finger in his naked chest. ‘Ye stay th’ hell away from me, Sparrow. Ye’ve done quite ‘nough as it is. Stay away from me or I won’t even try to reign in my temper anymore!’ The look in her eyes was more then lethal and the glare she gave him was as cold as ice. Jack scrutinized that look, but was horrified at how the intensity of it increased dramatically as he did so. Not even in their first fight, the one where they had both gained scars, had she looked at him in such a way. She was entirely too hostile at the moment. He let go of the leather and Devon snatched her vest back from him instantly, threw it on, and even though that took some time and another two attempts, she ended up wearing it inside out. She couldn’t have cared less. Devon cursed and swore in various languages while she swaggered towards the doors and finally stumbled out. When she stopped for a moment to take a breath of the fresh air, she noticed the sun had just begun to rise. Truthfully nothing really mattered to Devon right now. Normally she would marvel at the sight, and the glorious image it created … but she was too far gone to bother. After she stormed out, Jack remained in the cabin, staring blankly at the door. ‘Wha’ th’ hell was tha’?’ he muttered to himself as he tried to figure out what the hell had just gone wrong.





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As Devon sauntered towards the sterndeck, she cursed the mere existence of Captain Jack Sparrow the Barbarian.



Meanwhile the barbarian himself got dressed, muttering to himself… ‘She’s beyond angry with me, not that this is new at all, but what did I do? I did help her did I not? I put her in me own bed fer chrissakes, what more does she want? What I did was my business alone an’ that’s got nothin’ ta do with her…’



AnaMaria had gone to her Captain’s quarters to wake him, but found him already awake, half-dressed, and rambling to himself. Since she was just standing there she couldn’t help but overhear what he was saying and thought that since the door was open anyway, she would go in and offer her two cents on the matter.



‘And ye be so sure tha’ was all ye did to ‘er Jack? Capt’n? … I mean SIR?’ Ana corrected herself instantly. ‘Ye went upstairs wit’ tha’ harlot ta get back at her. Didn’t ye?’



Jack sighed heavily, while he buckled his belt and turned around. ‘I went upstairs with ‘er ‘cause I felt like it. It’s not like I haven’t done it countless o’ times b’fore. ‘Sides tha’ I don’t believe I owe ye an explanation fer what I do Ana. Now if you’ll excuse me… It might ‘ave slipped yer attention fer a moment there, but I ‘ave work ta do an’ so do ye.’



‘I’ve seen th’ way ye look at ‘er, Jack… Ye look at ‘er th’ way ye look at yer Pearl. There’s no sense in denying it, I know ye care fer her…’



‘Bollocks,’ he spat back, while his eyelid twitched as he denied her statement. Then he shoved her unceremoniously out of his way and staggered through the double doors. I don’t look at the tart the way I looks at me Pearl… do I?



Ana was left behind astonished. She had seen the slight twitch his eyelid had made when she had referred to the way her Captain had glanced at her childhood friend. Not only that, but she had seen a brief flash of pain behind Jack’s dark eyes. It was then that AnaMaria knew she had been right, there was more going on between her Captain and Devon Duville than met the eye. And as for her Captain, it was quite clear to her that Jack Sparrow regretted last night…. And as astonishing as that was, it didn’t make any sense to her… Jack Sparrow had never looked at a woman that way… none of his many woman had gained a look of … approval… from Jack. Ana crossed her arms in front of her chest and leaned heavily against the doorframe as she contemplated all of this, then she called after him.



‘Capt’n?’



He turned around to meet her gaze. ‘Aye?’



‘Ye may not owe me an explanation, ye don’t even ‘ave ta answer me question, really. But I do ‘ave somethin’ else ta say. An’ tha’ be tha’ ye owe her an explanation at least, Jack. Regardless o’ what ye did… ye still did it, an’ she obviously cares ‘nough ‘bout ye ta drink herself off th’ map ‘cause o’ it. Ye should talk things over with ‘er. I mean if she’s ta stay ‘board th’ Pearl fer a while as ye’ve informed us, it won’t be pleasant ta ‘ave ‘er in a right mood th’ entire journey. I know Devon’s temper… either talk ta ‘er or be sure ta lock yer cabin doors an’ get used ta sleepin’ wit’ one eye open…ifen ye gets me meanin…’



Jack nodded his head slightly and walked away from his first mate wordlessly. She was right… he had hurt Duville much more than he had intended. He had never thought she cared about what he did or didn’t do that much… but from Ana’s little lecture, he knew he had to talk to her. Hell, but not right now, she’ll shred me inta tiny pieces an’ feed me ta th’ fishes… Best ta let ‘er cool off a bit, Jack…





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Devon was grateful that the fog that lingered over Tortuga still covered the ship in a veil of grey as she fled from that bastard of a Captain. Her heart pounded in her throat and she had to fight back her anger, else she would have slit his throat in a heartbeat. How could he be such an ass? And worse, how could she have fallen for him only to end up completely whacked over the head with these stupid and most unwanted feelings of hers.



She huffed, strolling across the maindeck toward the bow of the ship, Bullet following close behind. The Frenchie was one of the most sensitive breed of dogs, and because it sensed Devon was in pain, it never left her side. When Devon reached down to pet it, it licked her hands and nudged its head against her palm.



Gibbs, who was busy working the ropes, greeted the muttering woman, a bit of unsure how to react to a seemingly annoyed and hung-over female. ‘Mornin’ Miss Duville, feelin’ any better now are ye?’ he studied the woman’s features, as best he could at any rate, due to the fog. She seemed distant in a way, she didn't look at him at first, but all she did was stare into the fog as if the fog held all the answers. Then she mumbled,



‘J'espère qu'il tombe mort et obtient mangé par les grands oiseaux,’ I hope he drops dead and gets eaten by big birds, which caused Gibbs to stare even more, now truly confused by the woman who made him feel a little uncomfortable to say the least. There was some quality about this woman that he had seen before. The way she moved herself, the way her dark blue eyes could look right through a person... he was certain that before that one night in Tortuga he had never seen the woman before in his life, but something was so familiar about her... it reminded him of someone... He didn't like her, but then again, when he first got here he hadn't liked any of the Pearl's crew, including her Captain, at first… He shrugged his shoulders and walked away from the still muttering woman and her dog.



Devon worked, and tended to every cannon the Pearl possessed with devotion, despite her feelings. But she didn't speak of the reason for her mood, not to her dog, not to Ana, and especially not to Jack. She knew the best way to get over this, or HIM for that matter, was to find herself another man. The only problem with that solution was that she really didn't feel like it. Not that there weren't any other fine looking men aboard the Pearl, but to Devon there was only one man: Jack. And Jack had made it crystal clear to her that he didn't feel the same way about her. So Devon remained silent, hiding the pain that was slowly suffocating her on the inside. She was afraid that if she did speak, either her voice would crack and give away her true emotions, or she would say too much and make a fool of herself all over again. She might be in pain, but Hell she still had her pride!





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Jack on the other hand was barking an’ roaring orders, along with a stream of curses to anyone who even blinked at the wrong time according to the Captain. But he hadn't shared a word with the piratess who was working under his command for the moment. She followed his orders, but she avoided his eyes and turned in early each night, while she spent said nights on Ana's cot. Jack slept alone in his bed every night, tossing and turning, while his conscience plagued his mind. If only he hadn't fucked that strumpet, Devon would be in his bed, keeping him warm, keeping him in shape... but now, because he had made one foolish mistake, he was here alone in a cold bed and all he could think of was the woman he had grown so damned fond of.



Captain Jack Sparrow couldn't handle his guilt, and one of the reasons for that was because he had never once felt guilty over anything in his life before. His motto used to be that “one only regrets the things one did not do.” Well, in this case Jack wished he hadn't done it. Every time he had watched Devon fulfill her tasks in silence and every time he saw her face while she did it, he felt a lump in his throat. He felt like he could suffocate any minute. He knew he had hurt her, and although he had meant to do so at first, he had no idea that his actions would have this effect on her. And seeing her now, all he wanted to do was take her in his arms and never let her go. The games they were playing were so childish, he realised that now. But he was too proud to give in. Jack Sparrow did not grovel for a woman, any woman for that matter.



Devon on the other hand, had her own battle to fight. She was infuriated by Jack's actions back in Tortuga, but she also knew that there was no reason to be. They had shared some wonderful nights together, spent carefree days in each others company and they had enjoyed each day and night fighting and making up, but there was nothing between them. No relationship what-so-ever, and that gave Jack the freedom to do as he pleased. “No strings attached, no guarantees” – hadn't that been her exact words the first night they had spent together? She didn't want a commitment, she wanted fun. So why the devil was she this upset about it?



The pain from her constant thoughts about the situation was starting to become too much for her to handle, so she shoved the feelings aside and turned her thoughts to her rage at Jack.



Several days had passed and there had been nothing more between the two of them other than a few sideways glances and complete silence. The whole crew walked on tiptoes, because they feared an explosion of either one of them any minute, but to their utter shock, the eruption never came. The silence was perhaps the worst, in Ana's opinion. For she knew, more than most of the others, that neither Jack nor Devon were the kind of person to accept or partake in a silent treatment. They both had a way with words, but now... they talked to everyone on board, except each other. The silence carried over even to the dinner table, where Jack sat at the head of the table and Devon sat across from him. Devon constantly played with her food, simply shoving it across her tin plate, and barely eating... she didn't touch her wine and hardly talked to anyone. Gibbs, who had started to warm up to Dee over the last few days, sat beside her and nudged her side. ‘Ye alrigh’ lass? Methinks ye look a bit pale... an’ yer awfully quiet.’



‘I be fine,’ was all she said, but it was the way she said it that had him convinced she most definitely was not. He glanced from the woman next to him to his Captain, whom he had noticed wasn't acting like his usual self either. Jack had had been a pain in the butt to be around since they left Tortuga, no one could please him and all he did was shout and bark at his crew, when usually he was a fair and just Captain with a warm heart.



‘Gibbs…’ the Captain spoke from his left.



‘Aye?’



‘Ask Duville if she wants to pass the salt ta me.’



All the pirates present fell silent and stared at their Captain, when he said nothing more, their eyes shifted to look at the female pirate who had recently become a member of their crew.



Gibbs stared back at Jack. ‘Ye can ask ‘er yerself Capt'n, she be sittin' right across from ye.’



The look Joshamee Gibbs received from his Captain was positively burning with rage. Jack's hands trembled and he shoved back his chair then he raised his voice. Gibbs hadn’t heard Jack sound like this in a long while, the voice that Jack shouted in was a voice that gave everyone cold chills. ‘I am a CAPTAIN an’ if I bloody ask fer something ta be passed or handed ta me, I need ta have said thing passed ta me instantly, savyy? An’ if it’s salt tha’ I want from tha’ WOMAN I will get salt from tha’ woman!’



Gibbs turned to Devon. ‘Wha’s wrong with ‘im?’



Devon eyes turned cold as she shoved her beans across her plate and threw her fork down onto the table. ‘Yes, if th’ Captain wants somethin’ from a woman, he just goes on takes it, ‘cause he hasn’t a care fer anyone else but ‘imself!’ Then she shoved her chair back, nearly hurling it against the wall, and stormed out of the galley. Jack watched her stalk away then huffed and turned to look at his crewmates, but they all stared blankly back at him.



Then Jack picked up his hat and walked toward the bridge. He could see the outlines of her figure standing out slightly, even in the dark and when some of the crew were already back on deck attending to their duties. For the amount of people there was on deck, it was eerily silent around the lonesome figure leaning on the railing of the forecastle. It was while he stared at her, the wind picked up and a single raindrop splashed on the tip of his nose. By the time he looked up, the raindrops had multiplied and the rain set in. He put his hat on top of his unruly hair, pulled it over his eyes and tucked the collar of his jacket further round his neck. His hands grabbed the pegs of the wheel and he barked his orders to the crew, ‘Weigh anchor an’ set th’ sails! An’ be quick ‘bout it ye scabbarous dogs!’ The deck soon bustled with action, but the female figure remained motionless.





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Devon chewed on her bottom lip as a tear leaked out of the corner of her eye. As she felt it slide down, she didn't feel like stopping it. It felt so good to finally let it out. Thankfully when she looked heavenward, droplets of the warm summer rain came pouring down and were mingling with the tears that were trailing down her cheeks. It was then that Devon finally cried the tears she thought she would never cry… at least not over something as insignificant as a man.



While Jack Sparrow was trying to make sense of all of the thoughts that were running through his head, Devon felt somewhat calmed by the rain and the chance to finally free herself from all the pain that she had tucked so far inside. When she wiped her cheeks dry with her sleeve, she looked up to study the sky. A dark formation of clouds had started to gather above them. The once bright blue sky was darkening by the minute. However, the sky didn’t just get a darker shade of blue, but the sky had turned an eerie shade of green. Devon tensed, for she knew there was a storm coming up… a big one.



‘Drop canvas!’ she heard Jack bellow. And before she could think twice, she was up in the rigging with Ana, untying the ropes of the topsail, while others were working on the other sails.



Within a manner of seconds the wind picked up and Devon felt the mast swaying along with her stomach. Big waves crashed against the black wood of the Pearl. The ship protested, and her wood cracked ominously, but she rode every strong wave as it came. Waves washed over the deck and all the crewmen secured their safety-lines to the ship.



Devon gazed up at the dark ominous clouds gathering above them. She felt the ship rocking more and more wildly, and looked around her for a rope to lash herself to the railing, but just when she was about to turn to look elsewhere, she was caught by a wave that took her from behind and smashed her hard into the railing in front of her. Her chest hurt from the force of the wave, but she managed to get back on her feet again. She winced a bit as she breathed in. When she sucked air into her lungs, she felt a strange and sharp pain. Ribcage… damn like I don’t ‘ave enough ta worry ‘bout... She shoved the pain in her chest to the back of her mind as she tried to see, but the rain and the waves caused her vision to become blurry and her eyes to sting. Another wave came over the deck, and Devon was shoved into the railing again, but this time her head collided with the hard wood of the Pearl. Then she was washed forward towards the staircase which led to the bridge. A track of crimson was making its way down her face, but she didn’t notice. The only thought running through her mind was an alarm of panic and the fact that she needed to grab hold of something – and quick!



Devon’s head was pounding louder than ever and now she had lost her balance completely. She tried to crawl towards the staircase, but then yet another wave came in, knocking her off balance once more. Devon could make out Jack’s words coming from above her. ‘Hold ‘er steady mates… she can hold! Make sure th’ ropes don’t come loose! Where be Duville!’



His dark eyes scanned the deck, between the waves of the ocean… on his ship and around it. He could see that his men working and holding his Pearl on course the best they could. He spotted AnaMaria on the sterndeck, tightening the knots in the ropes. But no matter how hard his eyes searched for her, they found crewmates, but not the hellcat.



‘DUVILLE! BLAST IT WOMAN, WHERE ARE YE?’



He heard a hiccupping and a gulping sound coming from below him, and just when he saw a black mess of tangled wet hair float by, another wave came and swept her over the railing.



‘Duville, NOOOOO!’



Devon grabbed hold of the first thing she could reach, a piece of the ropes from the shrouds, her right hand flexed around it as she felt the rest of her body fling overboard. ‘Goddamn slippery ‘round these parts yer precious Pearl is, Jack,’ she hissed, but her words got lost in the next wave that came crashing down on her.



‘DUVILLE!’ Jack shouted again, when he saw the bundle of leather hanging over the railing on the starboard side. He quickly tried to untie the rope he had lashed himself to the helm with, but when it didn’t come loose quick enough, he took out his knife and cut it.



‘Gibbs! Take the wheel – NOW! BE QUICK ABOUT IT!” he shouted, no it wasn’t shouting, he was barking it at the top of his lungs. To his relief, his quartermaster came rushing as fast as he could, careful not to let go of the railing, and took his place at the helm.



‘Brace yerself Gibbs!’ he ordered him, before he was off to retrieve his fallen piratess…. His? Ye be thinkin’ in terms o’ ownership now Jack?



Another wave came, along with a roaring thunder that sounded across the deck. The force of the thunder silenced Jack’s inner voice and Devon gulped as she felt her hand slip… she tried to pull herself back over, trying to latch on to whatever there was left of the rope, but she failed… and slid down another inch.



‘Jack, help me,’ her voice sounded frail…. It was no more than a whisper, but he heard it, or at least he imagined he had heard it.



When Devon’s words faded, a strong hand came down and grasped her arm, clinging to it like a lions’ claw. ‘Hold on, darlin’, don’t bail out on me now… ye hear me?’ He tried to lift her as another wave crashed down on him and he felt himself being shoved to the end of the railing. He held on to Devon with all the power he had. The waves crashed on top of them and he couldn’t see much, but a flash of lightning illuminated her features for an instant. ‘I love you…’ he didn’t know if he had spoken the words out loud or if he had said them in his mind. As she looked up at him, Devon tried to read his lips, but was too busy putting all of her concentration into hanging on to the hand that was holding her. No… I’m not gonna die… Not now… not this way… Inside her mind she repeated those lines like a mantra, and even though most of her strength had been drained from her body, her mind was not willing to let go.



‘Can ye pull yerself up?’ he shouted down to her.



‘I’ll try,’ she retorted as her foot searched for something to stand on for support. But the Pearl’s hull was too slippery and slick. There wasn’t anywhere she could plant her boot down to get some leverage. Another big wave came crashing down on them and Jack tried to hold on to her, but then … her fingers slipped through his … he leaned over further … desperate to regain his hold on her, but all he found, was the spray of the crashing waves from the wild waters below them. One brief moment, he saw her face, but then it was gone…



‘NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!’



The cry rang across the deck and the hairs on Ana’s neck stood on end. The sound was painstakingly heartbreaking. This was not good. Instantly AnaMaria cut her line and rushed forward, fighting the storm with all her might and trying not to get washed away herself.



‘Capt’n? Ye alright?’ she shouted.



Jack didn’t respond. He just stared at the water below him. It was the very water that he loved so much, but now it was also the water that had taken the woman he loved from him.



Then reality hit him and without hesitating he threw off his waistcoat. Not did he even think twice before he jumped off the railing, diving into the cold sea after Devon. It was just like the time he had jumped off the railing of the Interceptor when Elisabeth had fallen from the rocks near Fort Charles. Only back then, the waters had been calm and he hadn’t been emotionally attached. But now? At this point in time… he couldn’t think straight… he was consumed with the sense of loss and fear. He now realised that he loved her, maybe even more than he had ever known possible. And now he could empathize with what Will must have felt all those years back when he had said he was willing to die for Liz. But there was something else he realised in that moment. Jack knew that he was not ready to loose her, not when he had only just found her… his match.



Gibbs rushed towards the railing and shouted after his Captain. ‘Jack! Are ye daft? What is it tha’ yer doin’! Ye’re bound ta get yerself killed!’



The parrot on Cotton’s shoulders squealed, ‘Love … Knows … No … Bounds…’



But with everything that was going through his head at the time Jack didn’t even hear Gibbs call to him and dove down in the dark coldness that surrounded him, searching for the only woman he ever truly loved. He searched under water for as long as the oxygen in his lungs could last, but when his lungs started to burn, he had to surface. He breathed deeply, taking in as much fresh air as he could in one gulp, then he dove down once more. His eyes stung as he opened them, due to the salt in the water no doubt, to look around for any sign of Devon. This was not happening, this was such a cruel twist of fate… he was not going to stand around and loose her. Not this way. Not when so much was left unsaid.



He kept swimming, not caring if there were sharks in these waters or not, he just knew that he needed to find her. Then his eyes were drawn to what looked like a bobbing black jellyfish on his right. When he swam toward it, he realised that it was Devon’s hair… He dove forward, wrapping an arm around her as he kicked his legs upward. He surged on with inhuman strength, but even with that he still had trouble getting the pair of them up to the surface quickly… When he finally broke the top of the water, a fork of lighting bolted and illuminated the waves. Fortunately the wind had died down and the only thing that continued to be a threat to the Pearl and her crew was the thunderstorm.



Jack was spotted amongst the waves and immediately a line was tossed to him. He wrapped it around Devon’s limp frame. Gibbs shouted to the rest of the crew, ‘Heave!’ and they all pulled. Devon was brought aboard and another line was tossed to Jack. Jack was hauled on deck in a manner of seconds. As soon as his feet hit the deck of his beloved ship, he rushed to Devon’s side. The piratess remained motionless on deck. Her eyes were closed and she was not breathing. Jack quickly took out his knife, still breathing heavily himself, and cut through the tough leather, as he had done with Lizzie’s corset all those years ago… But at the point when the pale, well-bred woman had started to cough up water, the piratess in his arms remained silent and flaccid. ‘Don’t do this ta me, ye hear? C’mon breathe!’ he started pumping her chest as he breathed in air from his lungs into hers. ‘Help me! She’s dyin’!’ he shouted to no one in particular.



All the pirates just stood on the deck in shock around their Captain and the woman sprawled out on deck in front of him. No one moved.



‘Snap out o’ it ye rabid dogs, don’t just stand there like statues! Help me!’ Jack shouted, and the fear in his voice was not lost on Gibbs or AnaMaria.



Ana was the first to rush to aid her Captain in reviving her friend, while Joshamee Gibbs took over the wheel. The darkness began to fade and small cracks of sunlight could be seen on the horizon.



Ana pressed Devon’s chest, while Jack breathed air in her lungs. ‘Don’t do this to me, hellcat, don’t die now… not this way!’ he whispered before he took another breath of air.



Then, after what seemed like an eternity to Jack… she coughed and the water trapped in her lungs ran out of the corner of her mouth. When Devon finally showed sings of life, Jack really looked at her and immediately took notice of how blue she looked and how much she was trembling.



‘Take ‘er to me cabin, get Stitch, an’ wrap ‘er up nice ‘n warm, I shall be there shortly,’ his voice sounded steady and sharp, even though Jack felt like he was whispering, because of how shaken up he was from this whole ordeal.



Cotton and Morrano helped AnaMaria take Devon below deck to Jack’s chambers and they put her in Jack’s bed. Ana searched for as many blankets as she could find, and when she found them she sent the men away. She freed Devon from her wet garments and rubbed her dry with one of the blankets. ‘Dee? Can ye hear me?’ Ana asked while she continued to rub Devon warm. Devon didn’t respond. She didn’t even move. When Devon’s skin started to look a more normal shade, meaning it was no longer blue, Ana put her in one of Jack’s shirts and tucked her in. But when she was about turn to fluff her pillows, the trembling began again. Devon’s body shook fervently and her teeth rattled.



Stitch, the ship’s “doctor,” came just in time. He examined Devon, checked her pulse and told Ana to keep her warm, and to make sure Devon remained laying horizontal on the bed. If she sat, or moved into a sitting position at all, she would draw the blood from her brain and that would cause shock in her extremely unstable state.



When Jack finally made it to his chambers, he relieved Ana from her watch over Devon, so that she could rest. It had been a hard day for all of them.



‘‘Ow is she?’ he asked gently while he glanced over Ana’s shoulder to his bed.



‘No change Jack. She’s cold yet she sweats, her body trembles and she hasn’t awoken yet.’



‘What did Stitch say?’



‘She’s ta be kept warm and her fever has ta be cooled, said I needed to keep her brow cold with a wet cloth. She shouldn’t be moved at all, and ‘e also said tha’ there was no tellin’ when she’ll wake up… could be hours, could be days… or…’ Ana couldn’t finish her sentence, but took the liberty to place a hand on Jack’s shoulder.



‘Thank ye, ye can go now,’ he whispered.



Ana left and closed the door quietly behind her. Jack put his tri-cornered hat on his desk and let himself fall heavily into his armchair. He looked at the pale woman in his bed and felt helpless. He could outsmart the navy, win battles everyone deemed impossible to win, had defeated an un-dead crew of enemies, but seeing her like this… he didn’t know what to do.



He got up again and rummaged through his desk, in search of his flask, his saviour at the moment. He uncapped it with one hand and took a firm swig. Then he walked over to his bed and sat himself down in the chair he had recently vacated. He took another swig and took Devon’s limp hand in his own. Her hands were still callused, but Jack found that they looked so fragile now, in comparison with the strength they used to have. It seemed like they were smaller… breakable. He brought her hand up to his lips and placed a tender kiss on the back of her hand. Then he placed her hand back on the bed sheets and went to replace the cloth on her forehead. He wringed the soaked cloth between his hands and felt the cool water slip along his fingers. He placed a fresh cloth on her brow and checked her pulse on her neck using his index and middle finger. Thank God…. He sighed in relief when he felt her heart beat. Even though the ship’s “doctor,” Stitch, had told him she’d make it if they kept her steady, lying still and warm, he felt as if she could slip away from him any time. She looked so helpless… and there was nothing he could do for her other than staying by her side until she decided to wake up. If she ever wakes up…



There was a short knock, and Jack actually took his eyes off of Devon and focused them onto his double doors for a brief moment.



‘Enter,’ he said, his gaze already looking back to the unconscious form of Devon.



‘Capt’n we thought ye migh’ be ‘ungry an’ we weren’t sure if ye’d come down ta th’ galley ta ‘ave yer dinner… so then we thought tha’ ye migh’ want ta eat ‘ere so tha’ ye can keep an eye on ‘er,’ McDowell spoke while he looked from his Captain to the pale piratess in his Captain’s bed.



Jack nodded, not even bothering to look back at McDowell, and waved his hand at the man, ‘I’m not hungry… ye can just take it back.’



‘But Capt’n, AnaMaria said tha’ ye ‘ave ta eat an’ if ye told me ta take th’ tray back again tha’ I needed ta tell ye tha’ ye’ll be o’ no help ta Miss Duville iffen ye fall ill…’



There was a half smile on Jack’s lips at the comment McDowell relayed to him. Meddlesome wench… ‘Alrigh’ McDowell, leave th’ tray… an’ ye can tell Ana I need ‘er to take th’ night shift.’



‘Aye, Sir.’



McDowell put the tray on the desk, turned toward the doors to go out, but hesitated for a moment and asked, ‘Capt’n?’



‘Aye?’ Jack mumbled absentmindedly, while he held Devon’s hand in his and srtoked it with the other.



‘‘Ow is she?’



When no response was given, McDowell shook his head, worried for not only the piratess but for his Captain as well, and silently left the Captain’s Quarters.



Jack wasn’t hungry, he didn’t need food. He was only worried, worried about the poor woman who lay on the bed beside him. All the hell she had given him, all the hell he had given her – that seemed so insignificant now. All he wanted was for her to open those beautiful blue eyes and harass him or do something … anything. He didn’t care what she did or said when she woke up. All he wanted was for her to wake up. He would be fine when she was fine. Jack realised that he would give his right arm for her to wake up. Hell, he would give anything for her to wake up.



Hours passed and Jack was constantly at her side, holding her hand and whispering words of comfort into her ear even though he wasn’t entirely sure she could hear him. Hours later, Jack dozed off, still in the chair next to the bed. While Jack was sleeping next to her, dreaming of her death and the funeral at sea that he would have to give her as a result, Devon’s head moved ever-so-slightly and her eyes slowly fluttered open.



She opened her mouth to speak, but the words never came… She was too weak. She felt a warm hand in hers and when she moved her head slightly to the right she spotted Jack, fast asleep. His head was rolled to the side while he snored slightly. There was an awful grimace on that beautiful visage of his and his nose twitched.



Her spirits lightened when she saw him, even though the grimace on his face disturbed her, and so she tried to call to him. ‘Jack?’ she could barely hear her own voice … All she knew is that she was cold, sweet Jesus she was so cold…



She tried to call him again, ‘Jack? Oh God I’m so c-c-c-cold,’ her body started to shake once more and Devon was scared… so scared… so cold… so tired…. ‘Jack? Oh, s-s-s-s-o tired,’ and with that her eyes closed again. Once they closed Devon felt as though she were being bathed in light, nothing was dark anymore, nothing was cold anymore. It was so bright that she almost couldn’t bare the sight of it. She felt the strangest urge to find the source of the light. Then she heard a little voice in her head, and it kept saying the same thing, persuading her, making her want to believe that what it said was true…



Need to go to the light… follow the light… light is warm…



To be continued…