Cuts Like a Knife

By Monica, The King's Lover.

Disclaimer – I do not own PotC, but I am responsible for Lynn Blaire. "Cuts Like a Knife" – Bryan Adams.

A/N: This is the second of the Cutler/Lynn stories, follow up to "Shut Up and Kiss Me." Intended to take place before the movies. To find out more of what becomes of the pair, go to Co Co (Collab Coven, check profile) and check out the ongoing PotC collab: At World's End.

Lynn could not believe the coldness in his eyes. He looked at her as he never had before, as if she were some vile creature to be condemned, some pirate. She wanted to approach him, but the stern stare held her firm. She wanted to scream, but all she could do was cry.

"Why?" she asked, her voice weak and breathy. "I thought you loved me."

His gray eyes fell from her for a moment, and she sense for just a moment, his uncertainty. "I was deceived by you," he told her harshly, his gaze more piercing than before. She nearly gasped at the intensity in his voice. "You have fooled me all this time."

"Cutler, please –"

"I am no one's fool, Miss Blaire," he told her, ignoring her pleas. "You will pay for what you have done."

His office, the sun creeping in from the windows as it lowered into the evening sky, was lit with harsh shadows. The man before her, Cutler Beckett, her fiancé, was like a statue, his feet firmly placed and arms at his sides. His face was expressionless, and Lynn had never seen him look so inhuman, so withdrawn from his usual self. She pushed herself off of the floor, having dropped when she heard his false accusation.

"I have done nothing, Cutler," she said with as much strength as she could muster in her sorry state, hoping she sounded convincing – hoping he would recognize the truth. But she realized quickly that he was cold, far too detached from himself to care to look for the truth. He was a proud man, too proud, and he believed her to have wronged him. There was nothing she could say, but she still had to try. She still loved him. "I am not a pirate."

"There is evidence to prove otherwise," he said firmly.

"Then that evidence is faulty!" she cried.

His hand gripped into a fist, and he looked past her, through the door of his office. Within moments, the room was flooded in a sea of red, of soldiers. Beckett did not move.

"It's false, Cutler!" she told him, taking a step toward him. A soldier grabbed her roughly by the arm and held her back. She became panicked then, desperate. "Why don't you believe me?"

He turned and walked to the window. The light hit his features harshly on one side, highlighting his clenched jaw and tightened shoulders. "Take her to the prison," she said coldly. "Hang her in the morning."

Lynn felt her entire body shake at his words. "I'm not a pirate," she said weakly, though her voice grew in both audacity and pain the longer time passed. "I'm not a pirate!" He did not look at her, and she growled in betrayal and anger. She ripped her arm from the soldier that held it and ran to Beckett's side. She turned him and looked into his eyes, which only then seemed stormy. She held them for a moment with her own, looked deep into their depths, knowing this was her last chance – her only chance, to save herself, to save them…to save him. "I am not a pirate, Cutler," she told him, her voice broken from her sobs, but her gaze was unwavering. "Believe me. Please."

For a moment, his expression softened, and for an even shorter instance, Lynn began to think that he believed her, but too quickly the moment passed, and his face hardened. His lips formed a long straight line, and his eyes drifted to his arm where she clung to him.

"Take her away," he said. "Now."