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Loving the Heartless	By : FlameWolf666 Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > Het - Male/Female Views: 5808 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything or anyone from Pirates of the Caribbean. If I did I would have a mansion and 12 cars by now. This is just for fun and I make no profit from this.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
WARNING!!: Extreme beating. Rape. Will be marked with this **
Author’s Note: And here we have Wil and Elizabeth’s entry. One has to wonder how this will go.

Chapter Five: Protection
    “Oh no you fuckin’ don’t!” Flame screamed, launching herself at ‘Wil’ as he tried to dodge around the dueling pair. With a low growl, Jack shouldered the rather green looking male out of the way; once again meeting her blade with his; gritting his yellowed teeth as he tried to shove the seething female back. Despite how thin she seemed, the once captain had a surprising amount of power in her wiry body; giving the dreadlocked male under her assault a run for his money. Trying to take advantage of the fierce female being distracted with Jack, the blonde made a dash for the cabin behind Jones.
    Seeing the blur of movement, the snarling female threw herself at the boy; tackling him onto the deck and forcing them both into a roll. Jones, who had been fighting a large group of Jack’s crew, noticed the scuffle and whirled to see Flame laying on her back and using her powerful legs to launch the young, mustached male into the crowd he had been fighting. This caused the large group to collapse in a tangle, giving the panting pirate a chance to get to her feet and charge at Jack. The sneaky male had been sneaking toward the cabin in the commotion, looking up just in time to get tackled through the rotted, barnacle encrusted wood.
    Instead of moving to help the female, the monstrous captain turned to face the blonde male that Flame had tossed into the crowd. Sneering at the rather young male as the tentacles on his upper lip twitched, Jones pulled himself to his full height as he held his saber like sword out to his right. “Do you fear death boy?” he hissed, before he charged at the boy that struggled to get to his feet. To his shock, his attack was staved off by another sword, this one held by a blonde slip of a female that was dressed in rather form fitting pirate’s clothes.
    “Elizabeth!” the blonde male hissed, getting to his feet and trying to shove her out of the way to take her place. Taking advantage of the pair distracting eachother, Jones shoved them backwards and off balance; causing them to fall into the mixed crew behind them. Gripping his index tentacle around the hilt of his sword, the cthulu-esque captain stumped toward them with a heavy glare on his slimy brow.
    While Jones had been doing that, Flame had launched herself off Jack’s prone body by her hands; doing a flip in the air and slightly surprised when she managed to land on her feet. The male also leapt to his feet, whirling to face her with a mixture of desperation and deep sorrow. “Luv, just give me th’damn thing! Look what he’s done ta ya!” he hissed, gesturing to her rail thin, barely clothed body with a half gloved hand.
    “This wasn’t his doing, not that it’s any o’ yer business you fuckin’ traitor,” she hissed out venomously, placing her thin, weakened body between her once partner and the black urn.
    “Wh-what? What do ya mean?! If he ain’t starvin’ ya then...,” the male across from her hissed out, concern thick in his baritone voice as his posture began to relax.
    “It ain’t yer fuckin’ business Sparrow!” screamed the former captain as she flung herself at him and tackling him into a roll. For a few moments, the pair scuffled; one earnestly trying to kill the other while the other merely tried to hold her off. Then she found herself pinned to the blackened, rotted smelling wood of the deck, her thin wrists pinned in a painfully harsh grasp.
    Jack panted as he stared down at the female below him, his thick dreds hanging in their faces as he tried to catch his breath. “Fer lookin’ like yer on death’s door, ye sure do put up a fight,” he gasped out, outright worry swirling in his black eyes as he stared down at his once companion. She only hissed in response, struggling against his tight hold with all the strength she had in her failing body.
    “What’s wrong wi’ya? Now that I think about it, ye haven’t been with him near long enough to be this thin. That means ye’ve been losin’ weight long before ye found the blasted black thing on the self behind me,” he continued, his tan brow crinkled as he tried to make sense of her poor condition.
    “I don’t owe you an explanation for anything! Not after what you did!” Flame hissed, her turquoise eyes sparking with vicious anger and betrayal as she continued to twist and writhe within Jack’s iron grip.
    “Sarah, surely you can see why I...,” he began in a soft, guilt ridden voice that was thick with worry.
    “No! No! No matter what you say, a man’s freedom, his very life, should not belong to anyone but himself! It doesn’t matter what he did or may do with the freedom, no one has the right to use anyone like a puppet!” the ex-captain bit out, her voice shaking with emotion as tears began to slip down her slightly gray cheeks.
    Jolting in place, the male pinning her down took a shuddering breath before he closed his almost bruised looking eyes. “Jack, his heart is changing him already. He’s remembering, feeling,” Flame reasoned, some of her fury changing to slight pleading as she stilled beneath him. The black haired femme could feel her adrenaline ebbing, leaving behind sheer exhaustion from lack of food and the blood loss she suffered two days ago. Only her will to protect Jones’ heart kept her conscious as she gazed up at the captain above her.
    “Sarah...,” he sighed out, looking reluctant as well as torn. His dark gaze kept flicking to the urn that rested on a shelf just above a bed.
    “I just need a bit more time,” came a soft plea, drawing his gaze to the pirate who had once been one of his best friends. A woman who had impressed him with how quick she learned and had earned his eternal loyalty. A woman who it tore him apart to be locked in battle with. Swallowing thickly, the dreadlocked captains slowly got to his feet and sheathed his long sword. Then he was offering a fingerless gloved hand to the woman on the floor.
    “A week Sarah, that’s all I c’n afford t’give. Th’world is all outta balance, it isn’t just ‘bout me ship anymore,” Jack sighed, smirking slightly when she refused his hand and shoved herself to her feet. The suspicious female slowly moved to once again place her shaking, barely standing body between the captain and the coral-like object, a frown on her pale, strained face as she raised her borrowed sword.
    “What’s been happenin’?” the pirate female hissed, narrowing her sea-green eyes.
    Despite a hard fight from Sparrow’s crew, the crew of the ‘Dutchman’ were slowly beginning to push them back. “Where the hell is Jack with that heart?” Will hissed, staving off one of Jones’ sword swings while Elizabeth protected his back.
    “I don’t know! From what I saw of the woman that took him on, he should have just gotten her out of the way and been out by now,” the boyishly dressed girl hissed, shifting her blue gaze to the Captain’s Quarters nervously. Unknown to both, their whispered conversation had an interesting effect on the beast-like captain.
    His corpse-like eyes flashed with a sudden anger as he suddenly charged the pair. Just as his sword was about to clash with Wil’s, Jack’s voice called from behind. “Retreat! Retreat!” came his deep, semi-strained voice, causing the trio to freeze and turn to face the bearded pirate. The lean captain leaned heavily on the rotted doorway as he clutched a bleeding wound in his side. At the sight of his blood, the pair Jones was fighting backed off immediately; running back to the stolen Navy ship like a monster was on their heels.
    The rest of the crew and Jack followed close behind, the stragglers getting caught easily by Jones’ crew. “Where d’ya want me cap’n,” came a tired voice masked with a thin veil of energy. Turning towards the speaker, the lovecraftian captain found himself looking at the female that had caused all this trouble. Yet, without her his heart would be in the hands of the Navy by now. Allowing his cloudy gaze to rove over her shockingly thin body, Jones saw she now wore actual clothing instead of the rags from earlier and the clothing was rather mismatched.
    “I want ye t’wait in me cabin,” he snarled out in a deadly voice, the valve in his left cheek popping from his irritation.
    “I’m not injured! I can help the crew tie up the prisoners, tend to our wounded, gather the dead! Haven’t I proven my loyalty?” she protested, despite how bone weary and exhausted she actually looked. Now that he was actually looking at her, there was something desperately wrong with the woman.
    The female was almost thin enough to see the skeleton underneath her skin and there were purple-black circles under her expressive eyes. Instead of healthy and pink, her skin looked colorless and held a gray tinge. Even her posture spoke of illness, a bit slumped and very slightly swaying. It almost looked like her strength of will and sheer stubbornness was the only thing keeping the pirate on her feet. “Get in th’blasted cabin and shut the door! Or would you like another taste o’me whip?” he hissed in his accented voice, glowering down at the defiant woman.
    Heaving a sigh, Flame only rolled her turquoise eyes before stumbling back to the small room and shutting what was left of the shattered door behind her. Despite how irritated she acted, with all her adrenaline gone; the sick woman found herself thankful to be sent back in here. Looking up at the twisted, black, almost alive object that held a precious treasure, she smiled and allowed herself to fall on Jones’ sunken and dusty mattress. The urn above her let out a low bass-pulse that was more felt that it was audible, filling the dark room with a warm feeling of comfort, love and a touch of worry. “A week, a week to save the world. Seven days to make him ferry the dead once more. May as well have just asked me to make an entire universe,” she sighed to herself, smiling at the feelings the heart emanated despite her anxiety.
    Jones strode down the line of bodies, collecting souls and walking past as his crew shoved the piles of rotting flesh into the ocean. Yet, even as he repaired the damage to the ship with the glowing left-overs of life, he found himself thinking about the pirate in his cabin. To his extreme rage, the beastly captain found himself actually feeling worry for the woman. His unwanted memories were of a healthy woman, full of life, love and plenty of attitude. She still had a lot of those qualities but now only seemed to be a mere shadow of herself. Snarling his upper lip at the unwanted concern, Jones deftly beheaded one of the prisoners without so much as asking if he wanted to join the crew. He couldn’t allow this female to get him to feel, he had to destroy these unwanted tender emotions before they could truly take root.
    Without hesitating, the lovecraftian commander simply dispatched of the crew. Now was not the time to add to his numbers. Now he simply had no patience to ask questions. Now, all he wanted was to drive this treacherous woman from his head and his detached heart. Now he had to prove to himself and her that having his heart changed nothing. Slinging the blood off his blade as he beheaded the final captive, the tentacled pirated whirled and stormed back towards his cabin. The woman within would regret the day she had ever met Davy Jones.
    Jack rushed to his cabin, locking the heavy door against the pair he knew was right on his heels. With the wooden barrier between himself and the teens, the captain lifted his hand to look at his self administered wound. After he had told Sarah about the wild state of the oceans, she had finally agreed to the necessity of either forcing Jones to change or killing him. Then there had been the problem of how they make it look good for the people he had drug into an ultimately pointless battle. “Shit,” he hissed, pulling off his white, billowy shirt to better examine the wound.
    It was long and rather deep, blood oozing out of the wound lazily. He had taken his dagger and slashed his own side haphazardly, he was grateful he wasn’t bleeding any worse. Hissing through clenched teeth, the pirate flung himself onto the bed and pulled out a needle and thread. As much as he hated doing this, the wound need stitching and a douse of rum over it to prevent infection. Taking a drag of said alcohol to brace himself against the pain, Jack tied a knot in the end of the string with surprisingly dextrous fingers and got to work.
    As he pulled the ends of his torn flesh together, while swearing colorfully, he found himself lingering on the image of how she had looked. She looked like she hadn’t eaten in quite a while and seemed barely strong enough to hold herself up. What had happened to the woman to cause her to look like that? The thought that there could be something seriously wrong with his once partner made his heart lurch sickly in his chest. All the years of not seeing her, just knowing she was alive had been enough for him. If Sarah were to die... he couldn’t even entertain the thought without feeling like he was dying himself. Shaking himself, he finished his work and shoved his worries about the pirate to the back of his mind. For now, he had to hope she knew what she was doing and that she would be alright.
    **Flame was on her knees, her skin bared to the cold, salty air and her arms stretched out and bound by ropes to the headboard of the bed. Her mid-back length, ebony hair curtained her face and hid her pained expression. The whip came sailing down through the air, landing on her back with an explosion of pain and causing her body to involuntarily twist away. Yet only a small grunt left her lips, despite the roaring pain generating on her back. She could feel her blood flowing down her skin in warm streams and the tips of her fingers tingled as the ropes binding her hands began to cut off circulation.
    Her back felt like a canvas of pain but not so much as a whimper left the former captain. Tears flowed freely down her too pale cheeks but no cries of pain or begs for mercy left her lips. She wasn’t even all that surprised or hurt by what was happening. Jones had to be terrified. After all the years of not feeling, not remembering; only to have it ripped away by a female he only half remembered. Closing her dull eyes tightly, she merely grit her teeth until the captain behind her allowed the whip to drop to the floor with a loud clunk.
    Each bleeding wound slashed across her milky back had caused his heart to lurch in the urn above them, only furthering his ire and roughening his hand. Soon he was grunting from the effort he was putting into the swings yet the guilt and self hatred only grew. Still, throughout the entire time, the female below him had only grunted or gasped; making him feel even more angry but also a sort of grudging respect for the woman. Allowing the whip to drop from his half tentacle hand, Jones sat back to examine the wounded skin of her back.
    Several long, deep, bleeding gashes marred her milky skin, making the knife of guilt twist tighter in the heart above them. Snarling in outright fury, the beastly captain began to fumble with his belt until his dark, sea-worn pants slipped down his lithe waist. Glaring down at the infuriatingly silent wench, he positioned the tip of his rather sizeable manhood at her dry entrance and placed his free hand on the small of her back. Then he was hilting himself, his dead eyes going wide as he felt himself steal her virginity.
    Pain! So much pain! All of it generating from where Jones had impaled her with his erection. She had been unable to stop her scream as he had taken her and let out low, shuddery sighs as she tried to relax around the intrusion inside of her. Then, to her sincere shock, he was gone; leaving her empty. Unable to stop a pained whimper, Flame sagged in her bonds as she fought against the outright sobs rising in her chest. The inside of her burned and throbbed like fire and she could feel hot blood pouring out of her recently abused womanhood.**
    Next thing she knew, the ropes around her wrists were cut and she collapsed on the dilapidated bed. The sudden movement caused a jolt of sheer agony to shoot through her back as well as her violated core, drawing a small scream from her against her will. Then Jones was rolling her roughly to lay on her back, the tentacles that comprised his beard moving soothingly over the wounds on her back. “Ye were a virgin...,” he husked out in an angry voice tinged with wonder and just a touch of guilt.
    Pained laughter burbled out of her to both of their surprises. “Ye weren’ t’only one to wait around fer someone to come when you knew very well they wouldn’t show up,” Flame replied, lifting her head painfully to look at the captain as he healed her wounds. Her response caused him to jolt ever so slightly as his gaze moved to her.
    “Ye waited? Even after...,” he whispered in a barely audible voice, making the weakened pirate strain to hear his words.
    “Of course I waited. I kept hopin’, prayin’...,” she replied, wincing as a pulse of thick pain rippled from her womanhood.
    All of a sudden the urn on the shelf released a bass-pulse, filling Flame with a feeling of comfort and soothing while Jones was filled with bitter guilt and regret. Then he was on his feet and moving to his newly repaired door. Before he had come in, the former Guardian of the Dead had pressed a soul to the entry and repaired it. Flinging it open, he stuck his tentacle covered head outside and hollered for someone named ‘Bootstrap’. After a few whispered words, Jones turned and came back after shutting the door. “How long did ye wait...,” he hissed out, his voice furious but holding a slightly urgent tone.
    “Four years. Been searchin’ fer two,” she replied quietly, no fear in her voice despite what had just happened to her.
    “Six years, has it been that long,” he breathed, his mask of rage slipping for downright wonder and disbelief.
    “Aye, six long years knowin’ ya wouldn’t be comin’ back,” Flame replied, jolting slightly when a light knock came from the door. The small movement caused another jolt of pain and drew a hiss from her.
    His glare slamming back into place, the cthulu-like male limped toward the door and flung it open. After a few whispered words, Jone was shutting the door again and coming toward her with a plate of cooked seafood. Smelling the delicious food, Flame lifted her head to look at the captain. Although the smell of crab made her mouth water, her stomach lurched unsurely. Barely fighting her nausea, the weak female sat up painfully with several winces. “Stay down,” Jones growled, setting the plate down on the grungy sheet to push her back down.
    Conceding with his wishes, Flame laid back and picked up a large piece of crab meat. Just the smell of the buttery flesh made her mouth flood with saliva but her stomach clenched sickly. Fighting against the unease in her belly, the pirate took brought the delicate meat to her lips and opened her mouth. Just as she was about to take a bite, another, much louder knock came on the door. Growling low in his chest, the mighty creature got to his feet and limped to the door. Sticking his head out, there was a harsh conversation before Jones simply left and closed the door behind himself.
    Relieved to be alone, the female managed a nibble or two of some of the less rich food before her stomach warned her it was going to rebel. Then she had simply tossed the rest out of the port hole over the bed so the smell wouldn’t make it worse. Now she was simply laying on her side as the pain inside her slowly ebbed. As she lay there, her stomach churned irritably and she took deep, slow breaths in a futile effort to calm it.
As the former captain lay there in the quiet, dim cabin, she found herself reflecting on the past, on who Jones was before. Smiling to herself, the exhausted female allowed her sea-green eyes to close as she began to slowly relax. As her memories unraveled before her, Flame soon dozed off and they became dreams. She never saw Jones come back in and stand by her bed. She never saw him looking down at her with a mixture of hate and deep love.
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Loving the Heartless