*Disclaimer: Nothing, we own nothing. Don't ask...it's depressing..*

*Author's Note: this chapter is a little on the risk-ay side (no Jack/Ryenne action, trust us) so, be careful..


"Ah, the great Captain Caelar!" Tyrus chuckled, closing the door behind him with a sharp snap.

"Why are you here, Tyrus?" Ryenne demanded, taking her face out of her hands and looking up from the rough table she'd been glaring at dejectedly. "Come to ridicule me a bit more?"

"Why would you think that, Captain?" his replied, his mocking use of her title grating on her nerves. Sauntering over to her with an arrogant smile on his face, he perched on the edge of the table and she jumped to her feet, eyeing him warily as she began to back away. He stood as well, taking a step toward her for every one she took away from him, closing the distance between them rapidly. "You act as though WE are heathens, and YOU are god!"

"Mutinous heathens," she corrected tartly as her back slammed into the wall. Still he advanced. "And, I am your CAPTAIN, not your god!"

"A Woman is unbefitting to be captain." He put his hands on the wall on either side of her, preventing her from easily escaping.

"Don't touch me!" she tried unsuccessfully to shove him away, but he was stronger than she was. Before she could think, his hand had shot out, dealing her a blow with enough force to split her lip. Golden stars danced before her vision, and her knees buckled; the power would've sent her reeling, had he not been holding her up. She put her fingers to her lips gently, gasping when they came away with blood on them. Tyrus batted her hand away, snatching her face in a vise-like grip, leaning toward her and making the stench of liquor on his breath almost overpowering.

"Women are only good for one thing," he drawled, looking her up and down with a suggestive grin.

"You're not getting THAT from me, Tyrus." She said evenly, though his grip tightened with every syllable.

"Oh, aren't I?" he snickered, pulling her face into his. Despite her struggling, their lips met, his forcing hers apart as he slid his tongue into her mouth. Bile rushed into her throat, and - gagging wildly - she tore away, trying to duck under one of his muscular arms. Grabbing her arm in a movement so quick she couldn't begin to fathom it, he threw her onto the bed, almost causing her to roll off the other side with momentum. Climbing to her feet, she collected herself as best she could, fighting her roiling stomach, and prepared for another damaging blow.

"Stop this, Tyrus!" she shouted, fumbling around her belt for her dagger and realizing - a moment too late - that she no longer had it. Scanning the room quickly, she searched for something - anything - that could be used as a weapon, and found......only a piece of rope. Picking it up nonetheless, she coiled it around her hands and tried to look somewhat threatening. Tyrus - who was slowly advancing on her once more - laughed cruelly.

"Going to fight me, are you?" he snickered, making Ryenne feel rather pathetic indeed. How would she ever fight him off with a mere length of rope? "Just give up, Caelar. You can't win."

That struck a note on her pride. "Never!" Drawing her arm back, she used the rope as though it were a whip, whirling it around and bringing it down across Tyrus's broad shoulders. As a weapon, it was more irritating than truly painful; not the sort she needed right now. He snatched up the end as it snapped by his shoulders once more and ripped it from her grasp, shoving her backward onto the bed again. The impact sent the wind from her lungs with a whoosh, giving time for Tyrus to render her helpless as she gasped for breath.

Pinning her wrists above her head with one arm, he knotted the rope firmly around them, securing it to the headboard of the bed and making her arms completely useless to her. With a flick of his wrist, he drew his dagger, brandishing the steel blade at her dangerously. She closed her eyes, taking a deep - yet quavering - breath, and opened them once more.

"Kill me, Tyrus, if you have any dignity at all."

Laughing once in his throat, his lip curled into a sneer, but he did not reply. Slicing the worn blue fabric of her shirt open with one easy stroke, he ran the point of the blade down her chest tauntingly - from her collarbone to her navel - and grinned suggestively once again. Twisting away disgustedly, she lashed out with her foot, her face going scarlet with anger and embarrassment. His reflexes - unfortunately - were more finely tuned than hers, and he caught her ankle inches from his chest, twisting it until she cried out in pain.

"Stop wriggling, you silly girl." His drawl was back. "You're making this harder than it should be!"

"No," she whispered, attempting hysterically to wrench her wrists free. "No!"

"Ryenne, stop! Calm down!" a voice commanded, shaking her shoulders roughly. Eyes snapping open, her hand shot out and caught the speaker hard across the face, to which they responded with a muffled string of curses. Struggling to get her vision to focus, she sat up - clutching her head - to see Jack sitting a few feet away, cupping a hand over his nose and swearing furiously. The realization of what must've happened hit her, and she gasped, stuttering an apology.

"Jack, I'm sorry - I didn't - I mean, I-"

"Calm down!" he snapped, checking his nose to make sure it wasn't bleeding and glaring at her irritably. "What's gotten into you all of a sudden?"

"What do you mean?"

He raised his eyebrows at her, continuing to rub his nose. "You were just thrashing about, like the Devil himself had come for you. I tried to wake you and you kicked me in the ribs, then nearly broke my nose!"

"I - um....." Ryenne lowered her eyes apologetically. "I was having a nightmare." More like a bad memory she WISHED was a nightmare.

"Ah, I see...." Jack's tone changed suddenly, and he looked somewhat anxious. "I had nightmares, too, after I - .....well, if you.....er....well..." she cocked her head at him. Was he trying to comfort her?

"I'm fine." She interjected, standing up quickly. "I just need a bit of fresh air, that's all." Suddenly aware that half the crew was watching her, she felt tremendously uneasy. That, and she didn't need Jack - of all people - to be comforting her. As though they could read her thoughts, they looked away abruptly as they realized that she'd noticed their curiosity. Nodding curtly to Jack, she turned on her heel, set to find a bit of open air where she could clear her head.


Ryenne sat on a rocky plateau overlooking the sea, and let her legs dangle over the edge. It was no courageous thing, as the ledge she sat on stood only 7 or 8 feet above the surface of the water. The cool ocean breeze blew rough grains of salt and sand into her face and hair, but she relished it nonetheless, trying to banish the sour memories from her mind. Searching for something pleasant to think about, she found ONLY bad memories; not worth remembering at all.

The quiet sound of feet on rock echoed behind her, announcing the presence of an unwanted visitor. Glancing angrily over her shoulder, she saw Jack standing a mere few feet behind her - a blank look on his face - and turned back to the sea once more, not surprised to see it was him.

"Go away, Jack." She mumbled, leaning her elbows on her knees.

"Who is Tyrus?" he asked, his voice as emotionless as his face.

Caught off-guard by his question, Ryenne was silent for a moment. Then, she sighed. "Someone I'm trying to forget." She didn't look at him, and he took a step closer. The muscles in her back tensed, but he didn't' lay a hand on her. "How do you know his name?" she asked flatly. She could feel his eyes upon her, and shrugged uncomfortably.

"You screamed his name three or four times, after you fainted." He finally said, then added wryly, "And shortly thereafter, you tried to break my nose."

"I already apologized for that, so don't expect me to again," she said sullenly, wishing he would go away. Her uncertainty only served to make her more irritable.

Jack's voice was somber, though Ryenne could sense a telltale hint of curiosity hiding behind that. "He must have done something horrible to make you act in such a way......." Ryenne furrowed her eyebrows, glaring into the shadowy water below, and sighed, wondering whether or not to answer such a personal question. A moment of tense silence sat between them - so thick it could've easily been cut through with a knife - and she sighed once more.

"Yes." The answer was lacking any true conviction, and it was obvious that if left Jack disappointed - not that she cared much about THAT. A few more minutes passed, neither moving nor speaking. Finally, Ryenne twisted around to glare at him again.

"Why are you still here?"

He evaded her question, looking - instead - up at the glittering stars. The moon was close to the horizon, and the light flowed in long, broken shafts across the water.

"Beautiful night."

"Yes, and it would be even more beautiful if I were allowed to be by myself."

He appeared unaffected by this. "Snappy, aren't we?"

"I have every right to be!"

"Why won't you tell me what Tyrus did to you?"

"Because it's none of your damn business!"


This gave her pause, and she threw up her hands helplessly, standing and stalking past him back into the cave. She only made it as far as the entrance, however, because of what he said next.

"He raped you, didn't he, Ryenne?"

She stopped abruptly in the shadow of the opening, slowly turning to him. He continued. "Don't look so surprised. I've seen the way you avoid any kind of contact with anyone else. In Lee's Tavern, when you fainted -"

"I did not faint." She growled. "It was the bloody rum."

" - I tried to help you. I brought you upstairs to keep you away from the men there, because - pirate captain or no - a helpless woman can expect no mercy in a place like Tortuga. But when you woke, you immediately assumed that I was the one with.....less than honorable intentions."

Ryenne's first reaction to this was to indignantly protest that she was hardly helpless. But she checked herself, realizing - much to her chagrin - that he was right. But it had all happened so fast, and when she had woken to find herself on a strange bed in a strange room with her coat on the floor and a man standing over her....

Ryenne hugged herself, turning away from his piercing gaze.

"There were more after him, weren't there?" he asked softly. But she could take no more, the memories spurred by his words, crowding her mind. Images flashed behind her eyes, her own screams of rage and helplessness echoing in her ears.

"You know nothing," she choked acidly, and fled.