AN: I want to apologize again for taking so long to update. I've been busy, but was able to conjur this up last night. I also apologize if this is seemingly out of character. I might need some more working snapping into my pirate-y mindset. :)


The world beneath her rocked back and forth as consciousness returned to her. Her eyes squinted in the darkness; searching for something, anything to help her recognize where she was. Her wrists burned and her muscles ached as she pushed herself up from the rancid floor her body had found when she, somehow, lost her senses. A sharp, stabbing pain shot through her neck from a single point on her skull. Gently, and with great care, her fingers touched that point, and felt the smooth texture of dried blood beneath the strands of her hair. Groaning, she attempted to pull herself to her feet and survey that which was around her, but failed miserably when a barely-there turn of her head sent a heavy wave of sickness into the depths of her body.

"Gran dios de arriba. Lo que me pasó," she asked herself quietly; her voice cracking and rough from a lack of drink.

In a slow, tedious manner, Angelica was able to push away the waves of nausea long enough for her to stand on her feet. Her legs were numb, and failed to contain her weight; her body stumbling forward until she slammed into a wall of metal. Against her better judgment, she cried out in pain; tears of agony and misery prickling down her face and parting the dirt and grime that had settled on her cheeks. Her numb fingers groped at the metal before her, until she recognized the cylindrical shapes and gripped them with a vice that turned her knuckles white. The scenery around her was dark, but after blinking multiple times, the world appeared to her, and anger soon replaced any pain or fear.

She had seen these bars before...she had seen this prison before; hell...she knew this prison like the back of her hand. She knew the pile of bones in the corner of her cell when he was still alive, and even though they were eaten bare by the rats that found a home below the main decks, his skull still emulated his face. That man was left in this cell to die when he failed to listen to her father's instructions many years ago; trying to rise up against him in hopes of turning the ship around and sailing away from the certain death her father had planned for his men. She remembered the fear in his eyes as he was thrown into this pit, and she remembered his cries of agony when he tried to escape from his cell and was rewarded with two broken legs.

"The Revenge," she whispered to the darkness around her; her hands clenching and grinding against the rust lining the bars of her cell. She felt a certain relief touch her at being aboard her ship once more, but quickly grew unsettled when the severity of her situation came to the forefront of her mind. Her clothes were tattered, her stomach growled, and her throbbing headache seemed to worsen with every rise and fall of the waves below the ship. Her throat was dry, she was without any sort of weapon, and pure exhaustion made her bones feel as if they were as heavy as iron. The feeling of hopelessness sucked away the last remnants of her strength, and she could do nothing but bend her knees, and allow her body to crumble to the floor.

The sound of scraping wood hit her ringing ears heavily; a small glow of light being cast into the dark hallway. She could hear someone giving orders, but was unable to focus enough to identify exactly who was speaking, or who was descending into the brig at a painstakingly slow pace. The light from the torch being carried by her mysterious visitor burned her eyes as he came to stand before her cell, that was, until an all-too-familiar face emerged into sight.

"Jack?" she whispered, blinking her eyes in hopes she wasn't hallucinating. "Is that you?"

"Aye, love," he assured in his usual smooth tone; depositing his torch on the wall before crouching down to her level and looking straight into her bloodshot eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been imprisoned on my own ship..." she grumbled sarcastically, as she continued to stare at him with a confused look coloring her gaze. "But...why are you here?"

"Would you rather I not be?"

Her eyes narrowed, and the feeling of restlessness churned in the pit of her stomach. Her tired eyes scanned him; taking into note that the clothes he wore were fresh and clean, and almost all traces of dirt had been removed from his skin. The lines of kohl around his eyes were freshly done, and as her eyes fell towards the ground, she noticed a ring of keys in his possession. Anger flared in her chocolate eyes, and Jack had just enough time to push himself back and away from her cell, before she threw her tired and battered body as close to the bars as possible, and reached through in hopes of grabbing the bastard traitor before her.

"How could you?" she hissed, her voice cracking roughly with the added emotion to her already parched throat. "The one-legged man told me that no one is as they seem...but I would have never thought that you could stoop this low. What did he promise you? My weight in gold? Or perhaps my ship? A fleet of the most powerful and fastest vessels known to man, so that you can take over the seven seas?"

"Angelica...allow me to explain," he pleaded softly, still keeping himself on the far side of the hall. "I have not betrayed you-"

"Then why am I the one stuck in the maldito cell...and you are the one who is free," she spat, using the bars to pull herself to her feet.

Jack rose with her, his body swaying in contemplation before he took a purposeful step forward and dared to stand nose to nose with her. "I'm doing this for your own good, love-"

"¡Mentiroso! I know you Jack," Angelica growled, sneaking her hand through the bars and firmly gripping the front of his shirt. "You do nothing for the good of others. You think only for yourself."

"Listen to me," he hushed, his voice and eyes taking on a whole new level of seriousness as his hand reached forward and held her wrist in a tender, but firm grip. "You've been a pirate long enough to know what happens to women who are taken prisoner. Do you have any idea what the intentions of lonely men are when a beautiful woman like yourself is caged like an animal? You are no longer a person to them, if you ever were in the first place."

"I can take care of myself, so don't think you can say that I am in this cell because you are protecting me. If you've ever cared enough to want to protect me, which I severely doubt, you would have come with me when I sought the one-legged man during the storm. Had you been with me, neither of us would be in this position...and I could very well have my ship by now."

"You underestimate Barbossa," he whispered, stepping even closer to her cell, and holding her wrist tightly so she couldn't step back. "He is not a man that can be defeated easily. I know better than anyone...I shot that bastard dead many years ago, and yet here he is."

"So, what? Are you saying that this is our only option?" she asked, trying to twist away from him, but failing miserably.

"Yes," Jack assured, letting her go, and taking a step back. "I was able to contact Barbossa after that man from Tortuga said he was searching to Cibola. Even after everything that we have seen, I knew he believed that seven cities made entirely of gold were far too fanciful. He spouted that story to gain your attention...and at that point, he had it. Had I not made a deal with him when I found him in a pub a few cities away, and we ran into the situation blind, you would have been killed instead of knocked crazy and thrown into the brig. I told him that I could lead you to him, and that I could watch after you...keep you in line, until he finds a befitting punishment for you."

"Like using my body to scrub muscles off the underside of my ship?"

"Quite possibly if you continue to speak loud enough for him to hear," the Captain snapped, lowering his voice once more. "As long as things go smoothly, he won't find a befitting punishment before we attack. Gibbs knows. He will explain it to the others and urge the fleet to follow, provided that your first mate finds this situation as important as it is. I'll talk to Barbossa later tonight, and see if I can't arrange better arrangements for you. If this is going to work...if you want this to work, you need to be strong."

"How can I believe a single word that leaves your lips, Jack Sparrow...when you've kept this plan from me the entire time?" she asked, backing as far into her cell as possible. "How do I know you aren't going to betray me again?"

"Because, love...I haven't betrayed you at all," he soothed. "You're safe... Unless I give Barbossa the word, you will live, and I can say without a doubt in my mind that that may very well be the first time you can say that since you took on the code, and ventured into the sea."

Her eyes narrowed, and though the torch Jack had settled on the wall was dimming by the second, the pain and anger in her eyes blinded him with a light brighter than the sun. She felt betrayed, and she felt weak; two very familiar aspects to him, and any 'stirrings' he had for her seemed to explode into an uncontrollable inferno when he recognized that she had those looks because of him. He stepped up to her cell and wrapped his hand around the bars separating them; staring at her until her eyes dissolved into nothing more than freezing apathy. A soft sigh touched his lips, and he glanced down to his feet, before reuniting their gaze once more.

"Trust me, love. It'll make sense eventually."