Johnny Depp Character Imagines - storiesrrandom (2024)

Chapter 1: What's Eating Gilbert Grape: New In Town

Chapter Text

Stephanie's POV

As soon as I was handed my university diploma, I packed my bags and drove to the first school that hired me. That school was in the middle of nowhere in a small midwestern town called Endora. All my friends were calling me crazy, leaving a fulfilling life in New York City to become a high school English teacher. I did not mind. I was excited to start my new life in Iowa.

I had never been to the Midwest before, but I did not realize how separated it is. It was nearly an hour off the interstate just to get there, and the town is so small I could spit and it would land on the other side of the town.

I drove around some before I finally settled in my new home. Well, new to me. It's quite small, built in the 60s, but it is an excellent starter. It has a decent sized green lawn that I hoped to do some gardening in, because I could not garden in New York.

I wore a maxi dress with buttons all the way up the front. I adored the light floral pattern it had, and I had to wear boots with a platform, otherwise I would trip on the skirt if I bent down. I had a sun hat on to keep the bright summer sun out of my eyes.

Once I moved all my boxes into my new home, I felt incredibly hungry. I had packed a few sandwiches that I ate during the drive over, but they were long gone so I grabbed my keys and hopped back into my car.

As I drove around town, I finally stopped at a fast food joint and picked myself up a burger. I sat on the hood of my car in the parking lot and watched as children played in the field, and it made me excited for the school year to start.

Once my lunch was gone, I got back in my car and began my drive home. I drove passed a grocery store called Lamson's Grocer, and I decided that I was going to need everything I could get my hands on. I did not pack any food or ingredients at all, and I don't want to live off of fast food for the next few weeks.

Lamson's was a small white building with baskets of fruit in the front. There were signs for deals going on with their produce, and other than a light on the inside I would have guessed they were closed. There were no other cars, and no people that I could see.

I pushed the door open, almost assuming it was going to be locked. I walked in straight to the only register and four heads turned toward me.

One was an older man who was fiddling with the register, another was a blonde kid playing on the back counter, there was a woman restocking shelves, and a handsome man with light brown-reddish hair was mopping the floor.

I smiled sweetly at the group and they looked surprised, but excited that I was there.

"Welcome to Lamson's," the man greeted.

"Hi," I said as I looked around. It was a very small store, but I was certain I could find everything I needed in there. It smelled like an old air conditioning unit that had been running for too long, and a musty garage.

"Hi!" The kid said to me. He scrunched his face and wiped his nose with his finger and gave me a big smile.

I smiled brightly with a big, "hello."

"Anything we can help you find today?" The man asked me.

I took a few steps into the store and let the door close behind me. I nodded and said, "actually, yeah. I just moved here and I need new... well... everything."

"You've come to the right place," the man said kindly. "Gilbert! Can you help this young lady find what she needs?"

The handsome guy who was mopping nodded softly and said, "yeah," right before he put his mop away. I walked over to him and he introduced himself bashfully. "I'm Gilbert."

He seemed a little shy, because he barely looked me in the eye. I'm from the city, and shy people tend to be labeled as rude. But I did not sense that in Gilbert at all. He seemed gentle and patient and kind, and I've only been in his presence for a few seconds.

"Stephanie," I greeted. I reached into my pocket and grabbed a crumpled up paper I had with a small list of things I certainly needed, "I've got a list. It's small, and I wrote it when I was hungry so there aren't very many necessities."

Gilbert chuckled and took the list from me. "That's all right." He tried to flatten it out and make out the faded scribbling. He began walking down the aisle and I followed. "Where'd you move from?"

"New York City." I took a deep breath. "I just needed to get out."

"And that took you to Endora?" He asked as he grabbed a basket for us to use and slung it over his arm. "It's not exactly most people's first choice."

"My job took me to Endora."

"Where do you work?"

"I'll be working at Endora High School as an English teacher," I said.

"Hey, that's great. Good for you," Gilbert said with a small smile and he started grabbing ingredients off the shelves and putting them in the basket without looking back at my list. I did not mind because I would eventually need that stuff anyway.

"Thanks." I blushed. "I am excited to work with the seniors, but I would also love to work with kids."

"Yeah, kids are great," Gilbert said. He had long hair that he kept pushing back out of his face, and would wipe his palm on the white apron that I saw all the employees wore.

The kid at the counter accidentally kicked a basket full of Laffy Taffy, which sprayed on the floor. He immediately looked up at Gilbert and said, "Gilbert, I dropped it."

Gilbert waved it off, "it's okay. I'll get it."

"Who's that?" I asked Gilbert.

"My brother, Arnie."

"I'm Arnie!" Arnie called out.

"Hi Arnie!" I said to him. I turned to Gilbert and said, "he seems sweet."

"Yeah,seems," Gilbert uttered.

I changed the subject. "Good thing I ate before I got here, otherwise I'd be buying everything."

"You're not already buying everything?" He joked.

"Touché," I chuckled. "You know what I meant."

Gilbert smiled and kept helping me with my groceries.

We got nearly three baskets full of ingredients, foods, and some instant meals to make my next few chaotic days a little easier. He offered to carry all of it, he wouldn't let me help with my own groceries.

As the man was ringing up my purchases, Gilbert was cleaning the candy from the floor. I asked him, "what's it like at Endor High?"

"What do you mean?" He asked as he stood up and put the basket back on the counter.

"I mean, what was your experience there?"

He pushed his hair back and looked off to the side as he answered, "it was fine. A little dull, but what school isn't?"

"I am taking Mr. Johnson's place as the senior English teacher because he is retiring," I said to him.

"You've got some big shoes to fill," Gilbert said.

I almost got a little worried. "I do?"

"Oh yeah." He nodded with a serious tone in his voice. "It'll take years before you come close to beating his record of how fast it takes to suck the life out of his students."

I tried not to smile when I asked, "what's his record?"

Gilbert kept a straight face. "Four minutes. I've been graduated six years and I still have yet to recover."

I finally broke and I giggled and looked up at the ceiling. When I looked back at Gilbert, he was smiling too.

I handed the cashier my money and grabbed two of the bags, which were both armfuls. The cashier told Gilbert to help me, and he grabbed a couple of the bags too and walked me out to my car.

I somehow managed to unlock my car and open the back seat without anything spilling from the giant brown paper bags, and I set them in there, followed by Gilbert. Once all the bags were in my car, I closed the door and I rested against the car and crossed my arms. The sun was beating down on us, and I was not used to this dry heat.

"Thanks for helping me out, hopefully I'll be set for a while and I'll stay out of your hair," I said.

"Well, don't take too long," he said sheepishly.

"I noticed a Foodland on the other side of town, but I think I'll still come to Lamson's," I told him, "I like supporting the local stores, not the big corporations."

"I know what you mean," Gilbert said.

"Well, I've got to get home," I said and stuck my hand out to Gilbert, "it was nice to meet you, Gilbert."

"Nice to meet you, Stephanie," he said and shook my hand softly. As he started to walk back to his store, I pulled myself into my car and noticed him watching me back out of the small parking lot, out of the corner of my eye. I pretended not to notice and I drove off down the road.

Chapter 2: Edward Scissorhands: The Legend

Chapter Text

Leah's POV
2028

The move from Colorado to a cookie-cutter suburb in Florida was completely decided by my father. It was for his job, but leaving my entire life was more difficult than I was expecting.

I have a younger brother named Buzz, who is always in his room playing video games. He loves the vintage ones with the Italian Plumber that my dad used to play when he was a kid.

One thing that we quickly found out about living in Florida is that everyone has sprinklers to keep their lawns beautiful and green. The old owners of our house never set theirs up, so one of my chores is to water the lawn until we got it fixed.

One day as I was watering the front lawn, I suddenly felt pricks of cold bursts on my arms. I was wearing a pink tank top since it was so hot outside, so when I looked down at my tanned arms I immediately recognized snowflakes that melted as soon as they touched my skin.

As I was admiring the snow, I was quite confused. It's Florida. In the middle of the summer. It should notbe snowing.

One of my older neighbors was walking down the sidewalk with her little dog so I dropped the green hose while it was still running and ran up to her. My family talked with her earlier in the week, so I felt comfortable asking her this odd question.

"Leah Harvey," the old woman named Linda greeted me. "Is your family settling in all right?"

"Oh, we are doing just fine." I smiled kindly at her. "I just have one question. It's snowing, right?"

She looked behind me and saw the wave of snow that sprinkled along my lawn, and she nodded like it was normal.

"Why?" I asked once it was confirmed that I was not crazy. I did not think it was supposed to snow in this state at all. Another option that crossed my mind was that it was ash, but I think I would have known if a volcano had erupted.

"They say that Edward lives in that mansion up there, right behind your house." Linda's shaky finger pointed up at a hill. There was an overgrowth of plants and trees and a fence so it was difficult to see any house, but I believed her.

"Who is Edward?" I asked.

"Oh boy," Linda said with a small smile that lifted her wrinkles, "I must have been an infant when he came down last. If he was still alive, of course."

"Who?" I asked again.

"Edward Scissorhands. You've never heard of him?"

I shook my head.

"Well, it's quite a story. In the mid-century, long before you or even your folks were born, there was an inventor who made a young man. He gave him a face, arms, legs, hair, even a heart... but no hands."

"Why did he not give him any hands?" I asked curiously. Was this a real person or a story she was making up? Or possibly an urban legend?

"The inventor died before he was able to give Edward any hands, so Edward was cursed with scissors for hands," she answered.

"Oh. The name makes sense." I tried to lighten the mood.

She continued with her story. "It was years before anyone knew he was up there, the poor dear. One of my neighbors at the time found him and brought him down and treated him as a part of the family. He started giving free haircuts to all the women of the town, including my mother."

"What happened to him?" I asked.

"Well, it was quite difficult for people to accept him because he was obviously different. It was difficult for him to control his scissor hands, so he was hurting people. He was chased out of town. He raced right back up to his mansion where we were all told that he was killed," Linda sighed. "It's a shame. But ever since that night, it will occasionally snow. Down here, we like to say it's because of Edward."

"That's quite a tale," I said as I looked up at the hill. "Has anyone gone to check?"

Linda shrugged. "There's no need to. I'm sorry, dear, but I have to get supper ready. It was nice chatting with you."

"Okay, I'll see you later," I said with a smile.

"Bye," Linda said as she began walking back home, calling for her dog to follow her.

I brought my eyes back to the hill, and it certainly looked like the snow was coming from the mansion. I ran back inside and put my shoes on so I could start walking up the hill.

I reached some ancient black gates that I was not able to push open. It stood nearly twice as tall as me, but I climbed up a nearby tree and crawled over to the other side. I let go of the branch and landed on the asphalt driveway and my feet tingled on my landing, but I shook them out and started walking up the long driveway.

I approached the front after walking past beautiful sculptures made of plants. They were of animals, people, dinosaurs, and faces, all carefully trimmed and sculpted. I saw that the plants were indeed real, and I was confused as to who was taking care of them if Edward was presumed to be dead. I reached the front door and while trying to knock aggressively, the door squeaked open.

I froze and the musty smell of the old house brushed past me. I wiggled my nose as I got used to the stench before I walked in. I reached to flip a light switch, where the house was so old that the light switch was set up as buttons. I pushed the buttons, but to no avail. The only light in the mansion was from the open door, the numerous windows, and the hole in the ceiling that seemed to have collapsed years ago. Every footstep I made, echoed through the huge house. Drafts came from every corner, chilling me to the bone.

"Hello?" I called out uneasily. I gazed in awe at the beautiful portraits along the dark walls, and stepped around the broken pieces of wood that were scattered along the dirty tiled floor. It was as if I instantaneously teleported back to the Victorian Era.

I walked up to a portrait of an older man, sitting down posing with a young man standing behind him. The young man had white skin, small dark lips, sunken eyes, and prominent cheekbones. He wore a suit of leather and metal buckles, and his hands were hidden behind him.

I suddenly heard the sound of metal clanking against metal, and I froze. I even stopped breathing as the chill ran up my spine. I shakily turned my head to my right and saw the silhouette of a man with his arms extended at his sides standing at the top of the massive staircase. With every step he took down, his long fingers scraped against the thin metal vertical supports that supported the handrail. The closer he got, the easier it was to see him. Once he descended from the staircase, my jaw dropped when he came into the light. The first thing I noticed, was the long sharp blades of scissors he had instead of hands.

His thick hair was messy and black, with sunken pale cheeks and dark eyes that sunk into his skull. He wore tight leather and metal clothes. He was the man in the portrait I was standing in front of. I was quickly reminded that he was built, not born.

"Are you Edward?" I asked cautiously and pointed up to the portrait.

His lips were pressed together tightly as he looked at me with fear. He gave me a slight nod, and I had no idea how to react.

"I'm Leah," I said gently. I tried to remember what Linda told me, about how he had a kind soul but was chased out of town. He probably has not seen another human since then, and I probably terrified him. Well, he terrified me.

The corners of his dark lips twinged up slightly before pressing them back down.

I asked, "are those your hands?"

He nodded. He took a step towards me and wiggled his blades and said, "I'm not finished."

"That's okay," I said sweetly to him. I looked up and around at the mansion and I said, "this place is amazing. Is it yours?"

Edward nodded graciously. His entire body was stiff and tense. He either reminded me of a robot, or a zombie. Or Frankenstein's monster.

"And the plants outside, did you cut those yourself?"

He nodded and his smile grew bigger. He didn't have any eyebrows, but his artificial muscles retracted up, making his eyes appear larger. Curious, and gentle. He asked in a small voice, "would you like to see?"

I smiled back and said, "yes, please."

Edward walked eagerly over to me and his hand brushed against mine. I took my hand back with a hiss at the sharp pain and I looked down at my palm and noticed a cut across it that began to bleed.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Edward said anxiously and started to shake his hands as he tried to think of what he should do. His lips flexed but stayed closed, and his eyebrow muscles stitched together out of pure guilt.

"No, no, it's okay, it's just a scratch," I reassured. I clenched my fist so he didn't have to see the blood. He reminded me of a puppy, someone so innocent and pure but has been kicked down too many times. Even his voice was adorable and sweet.

"No, I hurt you," he said and looked down, terrified at his own hands.

"It is okay, really," I said, "show me your plants."

Edward seemed distracted enough to lead me out to his yard. I followed him as he stiffly trotted down a stone staircase and walked over to one of the many bushes in the area. He used his scissors to trim it for a moment before he kept walking.

Edward headed to where an overgrown bush waited for him. I stood back while I watched him work, and within moments there was a shape to the plant.

I eyeballed it momentarily before I realized what it was. It was of a girl, and I was quick to notice who it was. I recognized the hair that Edward gave her and the shape of her clothes.

"Is that me?" I asked.

Edward smiled and nodded.

"It's beautiful," I said with total admiration. I circled around the plant absolutely mesmerized. I looked over at him and said, "you are very talented."

"Thank you," he said. His voice was very quiet and gentle. He was clearly shy, but I was hoping that I was not scaring him. I am quite the extrovert.

Edward was tall, and despite the blades he had on his fingers, like Freddy Krueger, he seemed very harmless. I felt bad for comparing him to Frankenstein's monster. He is really sweet. He had numerous dark cuts and purple scars on his pale face and cheeks, so many that I could not count them all. All of his emotion was expressed in his dark and mysterious eyes.

I asked him, "will you please come down with me?"

Edward seemed taken aback by my request, and he shook his head. A wave of fear rushed through his eyes as I am sure the memory of the last time he was with people came back to haunt him.

He finally said, "no. People are afraid of me because I am different."

"It's been seventy years," I informed him, "things are different. Society is different."

"No. I can't touch anything without destroying it," he said in a heartbreaking tone.

"I promise nothing will happen to you."

"No, thank you."

I finally stopped pushing and I sighed. I quickly changed my expression to kindness so he would not feel bad. I checked my watch and realized that I had been there for nearly an hour and I needed to get home.

"I have to go, Edward," I said as I began walking down the driveway. I heard Edward walking quickly after me, keeping his arms away from his body until he reached my side.

"Where?" He asked.

"Home, my mom will be wondering where I am."

We reached the incredibly tall gate and Edward turned to me and he asked softly, "will you come back? Please?"

I smiled at him and I promised, "of course I will."

I looked up at the gate and we were not able to open it. We finally came to the conclusion that Edward was going to throw me over. We carefully positioned his hands so they would not cut through my shoe, and he lifted me up and over the gate. Once I was on the other side, I looked at Edward through the bars of the gate, and he waved at me with his blades.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" I asked him and I nearly tripped over my own feet as I began walking backward to the road.

"Yes," he said with a stiff smile.

I waved back at him, and turned around and began the rest of my walk home.

I was still in shock about meeting the legendary Edward Scissorhands. I decided not to tell anyone about his existence yet, especially since he is supposed to be dead. I felt bad for leaving him up there alone, and since it is still summer vacation and I did not have work or have school, I decided that I would spend as much time with him as I could. No one deserved to be alone for seventy years, not even an animated human being.

After I tended to the cut on my palm, I scavenged my room and found a book that I have been meaning to read, and I set it on top of my night table so I would not forget it in the morning. I planned to read it to Edward, if he liked it of course. I wanted him to feel comfortable around me, so he can be my friend.

The next day after lunch, I walked right back up to the mansion and pressed my face against the bars to look in. It was hard to see anything from that far down the drive way, but I had a bag full of books and fun things for me and Edward to do. I slung the bag over my back and looked toward the nearby tree.

I walked over to the tree and gripped the trunk, using my feet to climb up until I reached a thick branch. I straddled the branch and shimmied over to the other side of the gate. I kicked my heel over and slipped down to my hands, feeling my palms sting a little as they scraped against the rough bark. I dropped to the ground, and looked down at my palms and brushed off the brown bark that stuck to my skin.

I began walking up the driveway, walking past the beautiful plants again, reminding me that it was not my imagination. I felt like I was in a fairytale.

"Edward!" I called out. I tried to make my voice soft so I wouldn't scare him, but still loud enough in case he was too far into the house to hear me. "Edward!"

I heard soft footsteps that eventually came out of the mansion. Edward trotted out and looked at me with a blank stare that slowly formed into a little smile. He remembered me. He walked over to me with the corners of his lips still lifted and he said, "you came."

"Of course," I said as I walked up next to him. "I promised, didn't I?"

"Most people don't come back to me," Edward said in a small voice.

That completely broke my heart. He is so pure, and I can see that he has a heart of gold. I said, "good thing I'm not like most people. Look what I brought." I took my bag off my shoulder and squatted down and started pulling objects out. "I brought some books that we can read together. I'm not quite sure what you like, but I also brought some old-school board games you might recognize."

"Sounds fun," Edward said with a tight lipped smile.

The hours with Edward turned into days. Those days turned into weeks, and my mother was noticing that I was running out earlier and earlier and staying out later and later. One day she asked me where I was going, and I tried to be as vague as possible.

"I'm hanging out with a friend from the neighborhood," I said truthfully.

"Who?"

"His name is Edward."

"Is Edward the kid you've been sneaking off to see every day?" Mom asked.

"I wouldn't call it sneaking out." I shrugged.

"Well, tonight we are having spaghetti, why don't you invite him."

"I— uh, I don't think he likes spaghetti." Does Edward eat? Can he eat?

"Oh, that's fine. We can have whatever he wants. Just invite him, I'd love to meet him."

"Okay..." I said. I left, and ran to Edward's mansion.

He had clipped a bush on his side of the gate that would help me climb up and down the gate without a chance of breaking my ankle, which was very kind of him. He was always asking of things he could do to make my journey to him easier.

We spent the day reading to one another, starting a new book called the Left Hand of Darkness. It is a science fiction novel from the 60s and I thought maybe Edward could relate to it and enjoy reading it with me. When we finished one of the chapters, I finally sparked the question I had been dreading all morning.

"Hey, Edward... I was wondering if you wanted to come down and eat dinner with me and my family," I said, like ripping off a band-aid.

Edward froze and looked at me with his big, dark eyes. "Eat dinner with you? And your family?"

I smiled and nodded.

"I don't know," he said sheepishly.

"My parents are very nice," I said, "and I have a younger brother. His name is Buzz, you'd like him."

"What if they don't like me? Because I'm... different?"

"They aren't going to mind," I said as I tried to think of foods that Edward would be able to eat without feeling embarrassed. "I can call my mom and let her know that we are coming?"

Edward didn't smile much, but he still nodded. I excused myself, and I walked outside to call my mom. I felt excited to be able to bring him down, because I was fully expecting him to say no. It showed me how much he trusts me, and my heart filled with love.

"Hello?" Mom answered.

"Hey, Edward is coming to dinner."

"Great! What foods does he like? I'm at the store right now."

"Mom, there's something I should tell you about Edward..."

"What?"

"Have you heard the rumor about the boy who died in the inventors mansion?" I asked.

"Oh, yes I have. He had scissors for hands or something like that, right?"

"Right, he has scissors for hands."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that he didn't die."

"Oh, Leah," I heard my mom sigh, knowing exactly where this was going.

"He really needed a friend, mom," I defended and looked back at him as he focused intensely on the book and tried to turn the page without ripping the thin paper. "He's really sweet, and quiet. You'll like him, really. He's not so different, he just has scissors for hands."

My mom sighed again, "all right. I'll be sure to warn Buzz and your dad about it so they don't say something offensive. What food does he like? Would steak be easiest? He can just use his fingers to cut the meat and poke it so he doesn't have to use utensils."

"That's actually a really good idea."

"Great," Mom chuckled. "Dinner will be ready in a couple hours then. Love you, and I'll see you soon, and I'm excited to meet him."

"Love you too. Bye," I said and hung up.

I walked back to Edward and put my phone away. I try not to be on my phone when I'm near Edward. The device intrigues him, but because of his scissors, he cannot tap the screen.

"My mom is excited to meet you," I said as I sat down.

That brightened up his pale face. "And I'm excited to meet your family. If they are similar to you, I will love them."

The next couple hours were just of us talking and reading, as we always did. I eventually said that it was time for us to go, and Edward followed me down to the gate. He always followed me to the gate whenever I left, but this time I helped make sure he didn't fall from the climbing plant since he can't grip at it. Once he made it on the other side, I followed him and jumped down beside him.

We began walking up to my house, and he was glancing around the neighborhood and said, "I haven't been down here in so long."

"I'm sure things have changed," I said, looking at all of the houses. I couldn't imagine that seventy years ago he was being chased down this road by an angry mob.

He was brought his hands in front of him and accidentally jerked his wrist up, which caused him to cut his cheek. He winced at the pain and I asked, "Edward, are you all right?"

"I'm fine," he reassured and we kept walking.

"Are you sure?" I asked, inspecting the new cut and noticing that he wasn't bleeding.

"Yes. This happens all the time." After a couple more minutes of silent walking, he asked, "what if I accidentally hurt your parents or your brother?"

"You won't," I promised him. I tried to ease his anxiety by saying, "they know to be careful around your hands."

"Okay. Good," he said as we continued to walk home.

When we got to my house, I wiped my shoes on the welcome mat to get any dirt off the bottoms before I opened the door. When I stepped into the house, I could hear Edward copying me by stomping on the mat as well. My mom was just serving dinner, and my dad and brother were already at the table.

"Leah." My mom smiled at us. "Is Edward joining us for dinner tonight?"

Edward followed me to the table where there were two empty seats for us. Edward smiled at my family and said, "hello. I'm Edward."

"Edward, I'm Maureen, this is Buzz and John. Please, take a seat."

I gave Edward the seat at the head of the table, opposite my father, so there was more room for him and his hands. My mom gave him a plate of steak and broccoli, and offered him utensils just in case. I noticed that my family was eating the vegetables with their fingers to try to make Edward feel more welcome in our home.

"Tell me, Ed, how old are you?" My dad asked.

"He prefers Edward," I said.

"Sorry, Edward," Dad corrected.

"The inventor made most of me in the 1940's. He didn't finish me, and now... this is me."

"1940's?" My dad asked with wide eyes. "That was almost ninety years ago."

"He's immortal," I informed him.

"When was last time you came down from the mansion?" My mom asked and took a bite of her steak.

Edward looked down at his steak and began cutting it with his scissors, "I think it was... seventy years ago."

"Geez, how do you not drive yourself crazy up there alone?" Dad asked.

"Dad, please," I said.

"It's okay," Edward reassured me.

"Edward has the most gorgeous bushes up there in the mansion. You should see them. He can make animals, people, giant letters... he has a talent for that sort of thing," I said.

"Thank you." Edward smiled and took a bite of his steak.

My dad stood up from the table and my mom asked him if he could grab the red wine.

Mom asked Edward, "would you like some wine, Edward?"

"Can I have some wine?" Buzz, my brother, asked.

"No, you're too young." Mom waved him off.

"But Edward isn't?" He asked. He gestured toward him and said, "look at him."

My dad came back into the room with the wine and poured himself and my mom a glass. "Edward is twice my age, Buzz, he can have some if he wants to."

"Yes," Edward said in a small voice and a tight-lipped smile. Honestly, I don't even know if Edward knows what wine is.

My dad poured him a glass, and offered him a straw, which he accepted. I stuck with a glass of ice water. Buzz ended up getting a glass of lemonade, and Edward looked sick just from hearing the name of the summery drink.

We continued to eat and drink and chat until darkness fell. My mom became adamant that Edward stayed with us, but he was certain that he would rather stay in the mansion. Instead, mom made a little care package for him, which included some non-perishable food items, a blanket, and clothes from Buzz's and my fathers closets.

We shoved it all in an old backpack for him, but he was very appreciative. They all waved goodbye to him, and I walked him back home.

On the way to his gate, I said, "I'm so sorry if my folks made you uncomfortable at all."

"No," he said with a soft smile, "I liked them."

"Oh, good." I felt relieved. I didn't want them to be too pushy and judge him. I said, "my mom says that you are welcome at any time."

I knew that Edward wasn't much of a talker, but I know that he appreciated my presence. We walked all the way up to the gate. We stopped and I said, "here we are."

He looked up at the gate then back at me and said, "yes."

"I hope you had a good time at dinner," I said.

"I did." He smiled a little more.

"Can I give you a hug?" I asked and extended my arms. I was a big hugger, but Edward was very introverted and kept to himself.

His face fell. "I can't."

"Yes, you can," I said and hugged him anyway. Edward was always afraid of touching me, because he was afraid of hurting me, no matter how much I told him that I would be fine. I never felt his hands on me, but he rested his scarred cheek on the top of my head.

We stayed in our goodbye hug for a few seconds. I carefully pulled away and looked up at Edward adoringly. I pushed some of his black hair back from his eyes and asked, "see? That wasn't so bad."

He did not say anything, but he smiled. I liked seeing him smile.

I directed him to the climbing bush and helped him over the fence. He landed delicately on the other side, and turned to me. We both approached the gate, just inches from the bars.

"Later, we have to figure out how to open this gate. I'm not sure how much longer I can handle dropping from the top," I chuckled. I waved and said, "good night, Edward."

"Good night, Leah." He waved back to me.

I turned and started walking back to the road. Every time I turned back to Edward, he was still standing there and he would wave at me. Finally, he disappeared from my view and I walked home in the dark.

Chapter 3: Sweeney Todd: Meat Pies

Chapter Text

Milly's POV

It was a cloudy day in London when I found myself with a grumbling tummy on Fleet Street. It began raining and I lifted my black skirt up so it would not get the ends wet from the dark puddles on the cobblestone street. I found a sign that said, "Mrs. Lovett's Meat Pies," and I allowed myself in.

There was a woman standing at the counter and she gasped when I closed the door. She wore a beautiful black dress with black lace and dark eye makeup. She was brushing off the counter with a rag, and it took her a second to greet me.

"You gave me such a fright! I thought you was a ghost!" She exclaimed.

"I'm sorry," I said. It smelled decently good in the shop, so I took a couple steps in and let the door close behind me.

"Did you come here for a pie, ma'am?" She asked.

"Yes," I said softly as the rain pattered against the windows gently.

"Sit down, sit," she ordered.

I slipped into one of the booths and noticed a rat scurrying around her feet. I grimaced but she asked loudly, "would you like a drop of ale?"

I snapped my gaze back to the woman and said, "that would be great."

She stopped her task of brushing off the loose flour on the counter and she walked over to me with a mug full of ale. She said, "dear, do forgive me if my head is a little vague. I haven't seen a customer in weeks, you'd think that we had the plague."

"Why?" I asked as I took the mug from her.

"These are the worst pies in London," the woman said.

"Why?" I asked, not really wanting to eat one anymore.

"No one takes care of them. I should know, I make them. But good? No."

"I'm sure that's not true," I said, trying to make her feel better. She's not a very good sales-woman.

"Here." She handed me a meat pie fresh from the oven and said, "if you doubt it, take a bite."

I shrugged and took a hesitated bite. I got a mouthful of extremely hot sections of meat and others were still so cold they could have been ice. The dough tasted like wet flour, and I nearly coughed it up. The whole pie crunched in my mouth. I did feel something crunch between my teeth, and when I pulled it out I noticed it was a cockroach.

"Ew," I said and set the pie down. I wanted to throw up.

"Is that just disgusting?" She asked and slammed her rolling pin over a wad of the dough she was making. "Drink the ale, you'll need it."

"You didn't make this, did you?" I asked and washed my mouth out with the ale.

"No," she said.

"Are you Mrs. Lovett?" I asked.

"Yes, dear," she said.

"I just moved to London," I said to her as I forced myself to swallow.

"Where do you come from?"

"I lived in Liverpool all my life," I said to her, "all twenty-two years."

I looked down at the floor and noticed all the food crumbs that were being picked up and carried off by insets and rats. I asked her, "perhaps you'd get rid of your rodent problem if you cleaned up a bit."

Mrs. Lovett laughed, "I don't have the willpower, nor the manpower. Which reminds me, that will be three pounds."

I reached into my pocket and felt it empty. I frantically searched my dress and realized that I did not have any money.

"I don't have any money," I told her.

She sighed and said, "how about you clean then, eh? That will be your payment."

"Deal," I said.

"Times is hard," she said with a sigh.

"I know," I said. Then I remembered the set of stairs that I passed before I got through the door. I asked, "what's upstairs?"

"I own it, but it's empty," Mrs. Lovett said, "it's haunted, they say."

"Why?" I asked, very intrigued.

"Have you heard of the barber, Benjamin Barker?" She asked.

I shook my head no.

"Benjamin Barker and his wife lived up there, until one day Mr. Barker was arrested and sent to Australia. That was many years ago now... but the wife poisoned herself."

"That's really sad," I stated.

"Aye, it is." She nodded.

Then, Mrs. Lovett looked up at me and told me that the broom was in the closet. I kept my inedible food on the table and I walked over to the closet where the broom lived, and when I picked it up a bunch of spiders crawled out.

"Ew," I retorted and closed the door.

That was my first day working atMrs. Lovett's Meat Pie Shop. For three years I cleaned, and she told me that business picked up some because we kept the shop spotless. However, when the price of meat skyrocketed, it made it harder for us to sell her meat pies.

One day as I was coming into work, a tall man left the shop and brushed past me. He had big black hair with a distinct white stripe along the middle that looked like a skunk pelt. He had a strict and chiseled pale face that I had never seen before. He marched up the stairs to the empty room above the shop, and I walked into the shop and asked Mrs. Lovett who that was.

"Sweeney Todd," she said as she stood behind the counter and took a few fresh pies out of the oven. "He just started a barbershop upstairs and he was coming down to say hello."

I tried to take a deep breath but my black corset stopped me. I pushed some of my curly black hair off my shoulders and I asked, "how long has he been in town for?"

"About a day, I think."

The door squeaked open and I turned to see Sweeney walking in. He said, "Mrs. Lovett, would you—"

He stopped talking when we made eye contact. I felt my pale cheeks blush and I had to turn away toward Mrs. Lovett, who was looking between me and Sweeney. When I looked back at him, he was still looking at me.

"Spit it out," Mrs. Lovett said to him impatiently.

"Do forgive me," Sweeney said to me, "I don't believe I have had the pleasure."

"Milly Edwards," I said to him.

"Sweeney Todd, at your service," Sweeney said with a little bow.

"It's a pleasure," I said as he took a step forward and took my hand gently in his.

"Pleasure is all mine, Miss Edwards," he said.

"What is it that you want, Mr. Todd?" Mrs. Lovett asked, interrupting us.

"I was going to ask if you had any idea where Judge Turpin is?" He asked and he let go of my hand. A sinister look flashed in his dark eyes and he said, "I want to give him a shave."

"We can check the town," Mrs. Lovett said uninterestingly.

"I can go with him," I offered. I've known Judge Turpin for a couple years and I know how to point him out in a crowd.

"No," Mrs. Lovett said quickly.

"Oh, come now, Mrs. Lovett," Sweeney said, "let the girl go."

"No, she— you will mind the shop."

I sighed and finally agreed, "yes, ma'am."

Mrs. Lovett took a rag and began wiping her hands on it to get rid of the flour that caked her palms.

I walked passed Sweeney to get around the counter to take Mrs. Lovett's place and I looked over my shoulder to him beginning to smile at me. I couldn't help but smile back until Mrs. Lovett's snappy voice brought my attention back to her. She told me that the pies in the oven needed to come out within a few minutes and I had to roll out the crust tops for the next few batches while she was gone.

As Mrs. Lovett was grabbing her coat, Sweeney leaned toward me and said, "it was very nice to meet you."

"It was nice to meet you too, Mr. Todd. Come down for a pie soon, aye? I'll be here."

He nodded and said, "if you ever find yourself upstairs, I will give you a haircut. Free of charge for someone as beautiful as you, darling."

I smiled and blushed. "Safe travels."

"Let's go," Mrs. Lovett said impatiently and walked out the door.

"Goodbye," Sweeney said to me and he followed Mrs. Lovett outside.

I rolled the dough out on the floured counter, with a stupid smile pulling at my lips as I thought of Mr. Todd. I was beyond excited for our new neighbor, and I could not wait for him to give me a haircut.

Lately, Mrs. Lovett has been spending a lot of time downstairs in the basement. She has never let me go down there, but she always tells me that it is for the pies. I guess there are more ovens down there that I haven't seen before.

Our pies have become incredibly popular lately. Mrs. Lovett has basically taken over most of the pie making duties, and I have been appointed to deliver the pies to the customers, and continue with the cleaning duties. We had to create more seating outside to accommodate for the drastic increase of customers we have starting receiving every night.

It was a slow lunch hour and I decided to go upstairs to see Sweeney. He was always very intense and although I was swooned by him when we first met a few weeks ago, he always makes me uneasy. I figure that it's because he is an intense individual, and I just need to spend more time with him. I had also just started to notice that men were going upstairs for their barber appointment with Sweeney, and I never saw them walk back down. I tried to mention it to Mrs. Lovett but she told me I was being paranoid and to ignore it. More specifically, she told me to mind my own business.

I knocked on his door quickly before immediately letting myself in. I came to a sight of Sweeney covered in blood, with a dead man sitting in his chair with his throat sliced open and blood was still squirting out. Sweeney's head shot up at me, and my jaw dropped. He had splatters of blood on his white shirt, and drops clinging to his pale face and skunk-striped hair. Without looking away from me, he stepped on a lever that dropped the man down to the basement below. I screamed into my hand when I heard his body thud and crack against the basement floor. When Sweeney started walking towards me, the trap door closed, making it look like a normal barber shop once again.

"Oh my god, oh my god," I stuttered and tried to back out of the shop but Sweeney rushed behind me and shut the door. The demon look in his eyes stared down at me like I was just a piece of meat.

Sweeney asked while looking at his bloody reflection in his razor blade, "where do you think you're going, Miss Edwards?"

"Away from here," I said as I tried to move around him, but he took the step in front of me and would not let me pass. I gasped, "how long have you been doing this?"

"I've only been killing those who deserve it," he said, using a cloth at his belt to wipe the blood away from his blade and looked up at me. "And I deliver the bodies to Mrs. Lovett."

"You're barking mad," I said shakily, "have you lost your marbles?"

"Do you really want to test me right now?" He asked through gritted teeth, still holding his sharp razor.

"I can't believe this. I knew that men were never coming back down after getting a shave with you. I never thought that you were killing them!"

He said in a menacing tone, "there's a hole in the world like a great black pit and it's filled with people who are filled with shit and the vermin of the world inhabit it. But not for long."

"What do you mean?" I asked as I grabbed my clean handkerchief from my dress pocket and handed it to him so he could wipe the blood from his face. My hands were shaking, but I was hoping that any kind gesture would make him sympathize with me and let me go.

"They all deserve to die," he snapped and took the handkerchief. "Tell you why, Miss Edwards. Because in all of the whole human race, Miss Edwards, there are two kinds of men and only two. There's the one staying put in his proper place, and the one with his foot in the other one's face. Look at me, Miss Edwards, look at you. No, we all deserve to die. Even you, Miss Edwards, even myself. Because the lives of the wicked should be made brief, for the rest of us death will be a relief. We all deserve to die."

"Easy now," I said shakily, trying to get him to calm down.

Sweeney looked up at me, finally looking human. His eyes were soft, and he was actually breathing.

I finally put the two and two together. "Oh my god! So that's what the pies are made out of?"

"Aye, lass," Sweeney said, cleaning the blood from his face and put on his jacket to cover the blood that splattered on his white shirt.

"All right," I settled down. I figured that these were honorable throats, and there was a reason for my terror. I didn't want to get murdered so I said whatever I thought would let me leave the shop alive. I smoothed down my skirt and said, "I can get along with this. Just remind me not to eat any more pies."

He whipped out his blade again and said, "no one's in the chair, love. Bring me my next bleeder."

I smiled nervously at him and he finally let me pass him and I ran out of the barber shop.

Chapter 4: Pirates of the Caribbean: Stranded Island Princess

Chapter Text

Violetta's POV
1727

I have been told my entire life that I am a Princess, and it was my destiny to ascend the throne of my kingdom when my time came. I would become Queen Violetta Mary-Anne Alexandrina Collins of Avalon, which has always been quite a mouthful for me. If I was never on that ship, I would have become Queen of Avalon when I was 8 years old.

I was sailing with my family from our beautiful kingdom of Avalon to attend the funeral of Anne, the Queen of England in August of 1714. My mother was a good friend of hers, hence why I have her name in mine. When we reached the Caribbean, a tropical storm hit us. Our ship hit the rocks, and we immediately sunk. Both of my parents were lost with the waves, and I was pulled out of the water by the cook, a maid, a cabin boy, one of our butlers, and the man who was assigned to captain our ship to England. We were the only six survivors of the ship with over a hundred people on it. Days had passed, and no one came to save us. Days turned to months, which turned into long years.

It was quickly determined that no matter what happened, I had to be the one to live. I was against this, but I did not have a choice. Our Chef was in charge of feeding everyone, and he taught us what foods we could eat on the island and what foods we could not. He cooked all our meat from animals we killed with spears and knives we made from rocks and sticks, and the cabin boy was designated to taste-test all the foods to make sure it was safe for my consumption.

The island was ginormous, but we quickly realized that we were the only inhabitants. There was an abundance of flora and fauna, which made our eating situation not too bad.

The maid was the first to die, almost a year after the wreck. The butler and the ship captain began teaching me what I should have been learning in school, aiding in my education in case I was ever saved. They told me about the dangers and history of pirates, the difficulty of mathematics, and some geography. They also taught me everything that they learned about being a Queen while watching my parents rule.

We had a giant wall of rock in the middle of the island where we kept track of the days with tally marks. We still practiced our manners around each other, and we tried to stay clean with a fresh water spring that was in the middle of the island. Pretty soon, the chef died. Then the butler, then the captain.

It's been 13 years since the crash, and I just had to bury the last person who knew I was here. The cabin-boy. I could still hear the sounds of my parents screaming out my name as the ship broke apart on the rocks. I could still see the rocks protruding out of the crystal blue water out in the distance.

I sat out on the beach, which is where I found myself every day. I lifted my arms above my head and kept my eyes closed so my vision would not be impaired by the bright sun that shined overhead. The scar on my thigh darkened with the sun, but the crown shape is a constant reminder of who I am. Occasionally it will rain which is why the plants here are all so full and abundant and a brilliant green.

I accidentally gave myself a burned scar from when I was an infant on my thigh. I spilled hot oil on my skin. It became a subject of rumor throughout the kingdom, and I'm not sure why everyone was so obsessed with my scar. It was in the shape of a crown, which I always found to be kind of ironic.

I am the only heir to the throne of Avalon. It's been thirteen years, and I doubt that anyone thinks I am still alive. I was often curious what had happened to the kingdom after the entire royal family disappeared. I don't have a tremendous need to go back to Avalon, because once I do, every right of adventure that everyone else has is thrown away for me. It sounds incredibly selfish, but I would never be allowed to leave. However, I need to get off this lonely rock.

I sat up and felt the soft yellow sand sprinkle off my tan back. I stopped wearing clothes once the cabin boy died, but I had a few scraps of what had washed up on shore that I tied together laying on a nearby tree in case someone came to save me.

I leaned back on my hands and looked out to the glistening sea. The endless horizon gave me hope that someday I would be able to ride it. I imagined seeing a ship sailing by, and I gave the hallucination a soft wave. I would give anything for it to be a real ship.

Anything.

1728

If you would have told me yesterday that today I was going to be rescued by a passing ship, I would have told you that you were suffering from heat stroke.

I had just finished my daily bath in the fresh water that ran through the middle of the island when I made another tally mark on the giant rock near my hut to signify another passing day. I slowly began walking to my favorite spot on the sandy beach. I held some fresh mangos in my hand, a delicious breakfast to celebrate surviving another day. I took a bite, and already felt my long hair beginning to dry under the hot sun.

I noticed a dark spot along the horizon, which made my eyebrows scrunch together. I had been fooled too many times with false hope to immediately assume that it was a ship, so I tried to ignore it. However, the nagging feeling in my stomach never left. Occasionally I would look back up at the spot and notice that it was getting bigger. I finally decided to stop psyching myself out, and I took a short nap.

When I woke back up, I immediately looked at the horizon and the amount of overwhelming joy filled my heart and I shot up to my feet. I could see the white sails of the ship, something I've been dreaming about forever.

I began jumping as high as I could, waving my arms in the air and screaming, "hello! Over here! Please!"

I was straining my voice so much, especially since I have rarely talked ever since my last companion died. Sometimes I talk to the animals, but not often. I began to panic when I noticed their course began to shift away from my island. I frantically ran to some of the nearby trees and used my fire-making skills to catch some of the trees on fire. A light grey smoke burned up to the sky, and I hoped it was enough for them to see. This is my only chance.

The amount of relief and happiness overcame me when I saw the ship turn around and head towards me was astronomical. I was taught that white sails are the British Royal Navy. They would be able to help me. I ran back into my island and looked around at all my belongings, and had nothing I needed to bring with me besides clothes.

I had outgrown the dress I was washed ashore with, and the only other female was buried in the clothes she came in, which was poor planning on my part. The only things I had for clothes were rags from fabric that was ripped off of the clothes from those on the ship, tied together to create a pathetic dress. It was one of the least of my concerns, because at least I would be covered.

I threw the 'dress' on, and it held up with one strap of the sun bleached fabric knotted at my frail shoulder.

The ship stopped just before the reef, and they dropped a smaller boat with a couple of men to row towards me. I was so ecstatic, I ran into the water to meet them halfway. I first felt the boat to make sure it was real and I was not hallucinating. I nearly began to cry with joy.

"Are you all right, Miss?" One of the men asked me. I recognized his accent as English, and it felt strange to hear another persons voice. He was older, with grey hair and large mutton chops.

"Yes, yes, I'm all right," I said, overjoyed and laughing. The man offered me his hand and helped me step into the little boat.

The men began rowing, and I looked back at the putrid island I was forced to call home for years. I never wanted to go back.

"I'm Gibbs," the man introduced, "this here is Cotton, he don't speak."

Cotton had a large, colorful parrot on his shoulder, and I grimaced when he opened his mouth to show me that he had no tongue. I leaned back away from the man, unable to control my disgusted expression.

"You're in good hands now," Mr. Gibbs reassured me. I already trusted him whole-heartedly.

I nodded softly and looked toward the giant ship we were rowing toward. I was practically shaking from my severe lack of nutrition, and the various stages of sunburns that made the red hot skin on my arms and legs tender. I felt so weak, but I was mostly relieved.

We rowed all the way to the ship, which had the wordInterceptorcarved into the wood.

Mr. Gibbs pointed toward a series of ropes intertwined to create a ladder that was against the side of the tall ship, which he called the rigging, and he instructed me to climb.

I climbed the rigging up to the giant wooden deck. Once I carefully climbed over the railing of the beautiful ship, I was met with many men who smelled worse than I did. They were covered in dirt, body odor, and grime. My smile quickly faded as my lessons about pirates floated to the surface of my memory, and I began to think that I was not being saved.

"I-I thought you were the British Navy," I stammered. I may have been alone and gone from civilization for fourteen years, but I knew that the British Navy would not go to pot like this.

"No, love," Mr. Gibbs said as he climbed over the railing behind me. "Just stole their ship."

One of the pirates from the group that was staring at me swaggered up to me and stood right in front of me, a little too close. He had long dark hair that was braided and stuck together in thin clumps with a brown hat on top, with a red cloth underneath. His beard was braided, and he had a mustache. He wore a long dark coat, and tall boots.

"Welcome aboard theHMS Interceptor, love," the pirate greeted with a squiffy smile that made his gold teeth wink at me. "I am your captain, Captain Jack Sparrow, and I shall be your guide out of this unfortunate marooning, savvy?"

"Jack Sparrow?" I repeated.

"Captain. Captain Jack Sparrow. You may call me Captain, or Captain Jack or Captain Sparrow but there must be a Captain in there somewhere." He looked down at what I was wearing and asked, "what did you do to make them take your clothes too?"

"I... uh, I've been stuck there for a long time," I said and used my fingers to push some of my sandy hair behind my shoulder.

"How long?" Captain Jack asked, taking a step to steady himself on the rocking boat.

I closed my eyes to visualize my rock of tally marks and I said, "nearly fourteen years."

When I opened my eyes, his jaw was dropped and his eyes were bugged. "Fourteen years?"

"Yes," I said.

"On that island?" He pointed toward it.

"Yes." I nodded.

"Did you have any rum to pass the time?" He asked.

"What's rum?" I asked genuinely.

His eyes got even bigger and he said, "oh, my poor dear... life has not been kind to you." He pointed to a door toward the back of the ship and he ordered, "wait in there."

I quickly scampered off into the room and shut the door behind me. I heard him yell something to his crew, and the ship began to rock back and forth as we began sailing.

"I'm going to die," I muttered to myself. I know I needed to stay positive, but it was very hard to do that under these circumstances.

As I was snooping through his desk, I heard a soft knock and I quickly shut the drawer I was looking into. Captain Jack walked in with a bundle of fabric in his hands. I acted as if I wasn't going through his things, and I don't think he figured it out.

He closed the door behind him and he handed me the clothes. "You don't look much like a pirate."

"I'm not," I said and took the clothes from him.

"Then what were you doing over there?" He asked.

"Shipwreck," I told him, "traveling to England."

"Ah, I see," Jack said. He cleared his throat and asked, "what should we call you, my dear?"

I opened my mouth to tell him my name, Violetta. But giving him my name might create a domino effect where he would take me back to my kingdom of Avalon, and I was not ready to go back. I had no family waiting for me, and once I go back and take my rightful place as Queen, I would have no chance to experience adventure, which I have been yearning for for years.

I finally answered, "Violet. My name is Violet."

"Aye, Violet, and where is it that we should take you? Unless you're willing to become apart of me crew—" he took out a compass that was attached to his belt and he flipped it open "—I am on a very tight schedule."

The door swung open and in came a younger man with long dark hair and he peaked his head in. He said, "we are almost to the Isle de Muerta."

"I'll be right out, Will," Jack said to the man and he disappeared.

"What's at Isle de Muerta?" I asked.

A little smile lifted Jack's lips and he said, "me belovedPearl."

"A Pearl?" I asked.

"TheBlack Pearl, a ship. A glorious ship. A magnificent ship. A gloriously magnificent ship that was wrongfully stolen from me. I'm going to get it back," he explained with big hand gestures.

The passion and drive in his voice made me smile. Perhaps he is what I need to cling to in order chase the adventure I craved.

"Count me in," I said.

"Fantastic," Jack said. He headed back to the door and said, "get dressed. We are going to take back theBlack Pearl," and he closed the door behind him as he left.

1730

The crew and I walked into a boisterous tavern in Tortuga. It was bustling with loud drunks, laugher, and music. It was about two years since Captain Jack Sparrow saved me from that deserted island, and we had obtained hisBlack Pearlback, and we worked together to kill Davy Jones. Now, we sail together with the crew on hisPearl, occasionally running into William Turner who now captained the infamous Flying Dutchman.

I felt Jack place his hand on the back of my neck as he leaned in and said loudly in my ear, "I'm going to get us a drink. You find us a table."

"Okay," I said back to him.

I started walking through the tavern as Jack went up to the bar, dodging the pirates and flying glass bottles. The music was so loud, it was difficult to hear myself think. It had only been recently that Jack started letting me go off on my own in boisterous bars and brawls. He used to say I was too naïve, which I completely agree with. He would protect me from the nasty pirates that I was not used to when I lived alone.

I had finally obtained real clothes, and I had to settle with wearing more manly clothes. I wore tall boots, trousers, a white puffy shirt, and a grey coat. But I did not mind, because I was finally getting what I have always wanted: adventure.

I finally sat at the large enough table for the crew and I felt a tap on my shoulder. I leaned back in my chair and looked over at my shoulder to see a man who looked like he would have been my parents' age if they were still alive. He had a curly grey beard that was slightly wet from the tankard of beer he had in his hand. One of his eyes were crusted shut, but he eyed me up and down with his good eye.

"I just wanted to tell you that you look like someone I knew," he said to me in his rough voice.

"Who?" I asked curiously.

"I used to live on an island just west of the New World, and it's almost uncanny how much you look like her."

"Who?" I asked again.

"The Princess," he said, "from the Kingdom of Avalon."

He took a guzzle from his beer and my heart began to flutter at the name of my kingdom. It rarely crossed my mind anymore of who I used to be, so it almost took me a second to remember that he was talking about me. I still had not told Jack about my past. He would always ask questions, so it was hard to stay so vague. I tried to act nonchalant so I asked, "did you know her?"

"I knewofher," he said, "golly, you look just like her, Princess Violetta. You know, legend says that she had a spot on her skin that could prove her identity as the princess. No one knows where it is though, it's been so long. Man, that kingdom has really gone to pot."

"What's happened to the kingdom?" I asked worriedly.

"The entire royal family died at sea, you know. All died, they did. All of them," he slurred and drank his beer.

"What happened to Avalon?" I asked again, trying to get him to focus.

"The monarch of Gardania took control of Avalon," he said. Gardania was a neighboring kingdom, and from what I remember, they were not in the best shape. He said, "it's a shame. The kingdom went bankrupt, the people are in poverty, and the new king is hated by all."

"What can be done?" I asked him.

He chuckled emptily and looked into his tankard, "unless you can bring one person from the royal family back from the dead, nothing." He took another chug of his beer.

I frantically stood up and raced to find Jack. I was looking back as I was turning a corner, and I nearly bumped into Jack. He stumbled back and moved his hands out of the way which made the beers slosh out of the tankards.

"Watch the boots," he grumbled as he drunkenly looked down at his sea-boots.

"Jack," I said to him sternly, "we need to go some place private."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise as he looked up at me. He seemed to ponder for a moment but I was quick to stop him.

"Not like that," I said, "get your mind out of the gutter."

I grabbed his wrist and led him out of the tavern. He stopped once we got out of the building and asked what I was doing and I told him that I needed to go home.

"I just found out that my home is being destroyed, I need to go back," I explained to him.

"Where is your home, Violet?" He asked, squinting at me. He stood with a soft sway, not quite having his land-legs back.

"Avalon," I said in a small voice.

"Avalon? As in on the other side of the New World?"

I nodded my head. "Yes."

"I've heard that Avalon has gone to pot."

"Exactly, which is why I need to go back."

"What can you, Miss Violet, do to help it?" He chuckled.

"I've never told you my full name."

He waited a moment with big eyes and he gestured his arms greatly as he said, "well then, spit it out."

I took a small breath and began to take a few steps away before I answered, "Violetta Mary-Anne Alexandrina Collins, Princess of Avalon."

Jack started to laugh, "you're joking."

I turned back to him and raised an eyebrow.

His smile immediately dropped. "You're not joking."

"I need you to take me home," I almost begged.

He turned to walk away but then he swayed back around to me. "Wait, if you are really the princess, where is the proof?"

"Proof?"

"Aye. You know? The spot."

It took me just a second to remember the spot that he was referring to. It was my burned scar on my leg from when I was an child. I rolled my eyes and pulled the leg of my trousers up as high as I could to show it to him.

Jack's expression was satisfied with my proof and I pulled the fabric back down. He took his hat off and with a bow he said, "as you wish, your majesty."

I followed Jack through the tavern as we collected our crew to leave. We boarded the ship, and we left port. I watched as the darkness of Tortuga slowly got further away, signifying my life of adventures coming to a close. But, I knew that I needed to take care of my country. It is my responsibility now, and I want to make my family proud.

It took a few weeks to reach Avalon.Jack and I began walking through my kingdom while the rest of the crew waited on the ship. We were passing through the outdoor market, and I was horrified by the poverty I saw in my kingdom.

"It was never like this," I said as I walked alongside Jack. "This is not my home."

Jack sighed, "it will be your job to take care of it. Your people need you."

I began to feel overwhelmed. "I don't know if I can do it."

"If anyone can, it's you, love," Jack said.

"Maybe we are on the wrong island," I said hopefully.

"Me compass is never wrong."

We walked along side each other, and people were moving out of our way, probably terrified to see two pirates walking in their city. Everyone was so quiet and dull, when I used to remember hearing music in the streets and laughter and joy amongst the people.

I noticed an older woman walking in front of us and she tripped and her basket of fresh green apples rolled out of her basket. She got down on her knees to pick them up, and I ran up beside her to help.

"Let me help," I said and began assisting in picking up the apples and putting them in her basket.

"Oh, no dear, I'm fine." She tried not to make eye contact. She finally looked up at me, and had to do a double take. "You look so much..." her voice trailed off.

"I am," I said with a soft smile. I had used a knife to cut a slit in the fabric of my pant leg to make showing my scar easier, and her eyes grew wide and she stood up excitedly. Her mouth opened as if she was going to yell out, but I put my hands on her shoulders to settle her down.

"We all thought you were dead," she said in a loud whisper, "but you're not. You're here!"

"I'm here," I said calmly.

"You look so much like your mother," she said.

I smiled kindly. "Thank you. What's your name?"

"My name? Eidith."

"Eidith, I'm going to go up to the castle. It's been many years, can you remind me where to go?"

"Yes, your highness," she said and pointed down the path. "It's straight ahead and to the left."

"Thank you." I took her hand in mine to express my gratitude. I began to leave and Jack came up to me.

"All those years of pirating with you, and I never thought you were the long lost princess of Avalon," he said as we walked along side each other.

"That was the point," I said as we kept walking.

"Why would you keep that from me?"

"Because I wasn't ready to come back," I answered.

We reached the entrance to the castle, and we were immediately stopped by the guards.

"I am the princess, let me in," I ordered to them.

"Aye, she is the princess, let her in," Jack said with exaggerated hand movements.

The guards began to laugh and one of them said, "nice try."

The memories of when I was young and playing in the castle rushed through my brain, which included the guards I used to play around with. I began to walk down the little line of guards and pointed to each one, "David... Gabriel... Henry... and don't remind me... Isaac."

The guards were suddenly silent.

"I can't believe I have to do this again," I said to myself as I reached down to brush the fabric out of the way, letting the scar peak out through the slit. All of them gasped when they saw my scar, which identified me as their princess.

"Come in, your highness," they said and allowed us to enter.

"Good thing you have that scar, otherwise how would you have gotten in?" Jack asked me in a low voice.

I shrugged. "I guess we will never know."

We walked until we reached the Great Hall where I saw the King who was giving orders to some of his men. He paused to look at me, but all I could see was his thick black mustache.

"Who may I ask are you?" He asked, "and how did you get into my castle?"

"Your castle?" I laughed, "I believe you meanmycastle."

He was flabbergasted by my confidence and some of the guards came up behind me to back me up. The King laughed, "darling, I am the king, did you know that breaking into my castle is punishable by death?"

"You are not my king. I am Violetta Mary-Anne Alexandrina Collins, Princess of Avalon," I announced loudly.

"The rightful heir to the Avalon throne," Henry said.

"You really don't belong up there, mate," Jack added, wagging his finger at him.

The King looked worried, and he snapped his fingers for his guards to take me to the dungeon. I heard the clanging of the blades as my guards took their swords out, then I looked to my side to see Jack glaring up at the king with his hand grasping his sword firmly. I drew my sword and threatened the king.

"My dear, I am right where I deserve to be."

"Then it looks like we will have to force you out," I said.

"So be it," the imposter king said. He snapped his fingers and one of his men ran up to me and slashed down with his sword. I was quick to block it with my own, and the chaos commenced.

Jack dueled with one of his men near me, but the sweet sounds of all of our swords clashing together came together in harmony. I managed to break past the barrier of men to approach the king and I pointed my sword at him. "I am giving you one last chance to step down," I threatened. I could feel my eyes burning with fire at my hatred for this man.

"And why would I step down to you?" The King asked with a wicked smile.

"She just told you, mate, pay attention," Jack butted in before dueling again with another one of the kings men.

"You are no king. You are a disgrace to Avalon. You will go down as the worst king this kingdom has ever known," I spat at him.

"At least I will go down as a king." He stood up and revealed the sword he had and crashed it down onto mine. I threw him off and gripped my sword tighter.

"I am the rightful heir. You've done nothing but put my kingdom into poverty," I said and fought back, making him back up as he was blocking my swings.

"I've done everything for this country," he snapped back and we continued dueling.

"You've given yourself a death wish," I said. My arm was getting weak as I continued to clash against his sword, so I gripped the handle with both hands.

"Why don't you go off adventuring with pirates? Hiding from privateers and living the rest of your life as what you've become? A bloody pirate. Where your only purpose is target practice for my privateers. I smell death in your future, Miss Collins," the king said.

I said, "to die would be a great adventure."

"It's the only adventure you have left," he said and jumped forward to reignite our duel.

I spun around just as he tried to jab me with his sword, and I brought down my handle as hard as I could. I hit him square in the back, and caused him to collapse. Before he could stand up, I kicked his sword out of the way, straddled his back and used one hand to lift up his head with his hair to see all of our people dwindling duels and used my other hand to hold the sword against his neck.

I was breathing hard, feeling my palms sweating as he too was catching his breath. I tightened my grip and before I could make any motion with my hand, he shouted, "stop!"

We all froze, our guards were fighting against one another had ceased. The king was begging for forgiveness, and to not be executed by my hand.

As badly as I wanted to kill him, I did not want my reign to begin with bloodshed. I ordered for him to be put in the dungeon along with his men, and my guards followed my orders. They all dispersed, and pretty soon all the noises in the room ceased.

Jack's voice nearly made me jump in the empty room. His voice echoed softly in the beautiful room which held so many memories.

"I should probably go," Jack said, "unfortunately, I've never exactly been simpatico with a kingdom."

"I know," I chuckled. I turned to Jack and sighed because my days of adventuring with him were officially over. I walked over to him and wrapped my arms around him in a hug, even though I know that he doesn't really care for physical affection.

He hugged me back and said softly, "go on now, shoo, you've got a kingdom to run."

I sniffed and pulled away.

"No tears," Jack chuckled and used his dirty thumb to wipe my cheek.

"I'm sorry," I said tearfully with a chuckle, "I didn't realize how emotional it was going to be to be back here."

"It was the right thing to do," he said.

One of the guards said, "you will bow and address the princess as your highness."

"No, that's not necessary," I said.

"Please, your highness," Jack said to me with an extravagant bow.

We said our painful goodbyes and I watched him leave the palace. It was, however, a quick goodbye because I was instantly thrown into what I needed to prepare for my coronation that same day.

By that evening, the entire town knew about my return and existence and a coronation was scheduled for that afternoon. This was the biggest event of the decade.

One of the maids was standing behind me in my room and was tightening my corset, an article of clothing I vividly remembered my mother wearing but I was too young. Corsets were too restricting for pirates, so I had never worn one before and I, so far, absolutely hated it.

"You look just like your mother," the elderly maid said, "I remember her coronation day. You are just as beautiful as she did."

"Thank you," I said with a sharp breath as my lungs were constructed against the bones of the corset. I looked out my open window, trying to relax myself with the soft waves I saw in the harbor.

"Your mother would be so proud of you. Your father too," she continued to tell me.

I was slipped into an absolutely gorgeous dress, I never imagined myself wearing something so regal and elegant. The gown was made of gold silk, lace, and brocade, and embroidered with gold thread. The bodice was close fitting with a low neckline. It was completed with short sleeves with a full skirt that extended around my legs with petticoats.

Once my hair, makeup, and dress was finished, I waited in the library for my coronation. I looked out the window as I avidly watched the coronation guests arrive.

I turned to look over at a painting of my father on the wall from when he was at his coronation to be king. He was wearing his Avalon uniform, and he held a scepter and an orb in his hands. I felt like he was looking at me. I hoped he was proud.

I opened the library door to command my servants, "tell the guards to open up the gates."

"Yes, your highness," they said and did as I ordered them to.

The bells began ringing, which was my signal to head out.

I stood at the alter of the church, looking down at all the seated crowd of men, women, and children who came to watch me become their Queen. The church was completely packed, with many people standing in the back just to witness the coronation. I did not realize just how excited they all were for my return.

The Bishop placed the golden crown that had belonged to my mother on my head, and he presented the scepter and an orb on a velvet pillow. I grabbed one in each hand carefully, and I turned to face the crowd.

Everyone stood up as I turned, and the Bishop finished his long blessing with announcing my name, "Queen Violetta of Avalon."

"Queen Violetta of Avalon," the entire crowd repeated. I placed the scepter and the orb back in the pillow and turned back to the crowd with a smile. They all began to clap.

I walked down the steps of the alter and people were making a line to shake my hand. I made it appoint to meet everyone, smiling and greeting as many people as I could. Mostly everyone said how proud my parents would be of me, and they were still shocked that I was even alive.

There were lots of questions about my time as a pirate, and I would try to keep my answers vague. This, however, led to more questions. I eventually had to start promising that I would make an announcement of my life after the shipwreck, which sufficed them enough to leave me alone on that topic for now.

I finally looked out to the door and saw that people were beginning to leave and head to the castle ballroom where we had delicious food for everyone, strong drinks, and lively music. A party to celebrate.

I noticed a familiar face push his way through the crowd of people leaving, and his face looked up at me with a smile.

I put my hands around the hand of the woman I was talking to and I said, "you'll have to excuse me," and I began to walk to Jack. Once there was no one between us, my excitement of seeing him became too great and my instinct to run into his arms overpowered my desire to be as tame as possible.

I ran into him with a hug and he began to laugh.

"You came," I said as I pulled away.

"I wouldn't miss it," he said, "is it against the rules for you to be touching someone like me-onsie?"

"I don't know, but I'm Queen. I can do whatever I want." I smiled up at him giddily.

"Yes, you are," Jack said with a soft smile. "So, do I need to be calling you Queen now?"

I chuckled as I tried to remember what he said to me when I first met him, "Queen. Queen Violet Collins. You may call me Queen, or Queen Violet or Queen Collins but there must be a Queen in there somewhere."

Jack shook his head and tried not to smile. "That's it?"

"Nothing will change between us, be certain of that," I reassured.

"Oh, goodie," he said.

"You'll write to me often?" I asked, knowing that he would not be wanting to stay here with me. He is as free as a bird, I cannot ask him leave a life at the sea for me.

"You can count on it," Jack promised and tucked some of my hair behind my ear that became loose. "By pigeon or by bottle, I will always be there for you."

"Avalon will need some privateers, are you interested?" I asked. It was an empty offer, because I knew he would say no.

Jack inhaled and took my hands in his before he said to me, "I'm a pirate, darling. Always have been, and always will be."

"The offer will always stand as long as I'm breathing," I said, "well, then my only request is that you visit Avalon often."

"I will as long as you promise to sail with me," he said.

A smile spread across my lips and I agreed, "please."

Jack took my hand in his and said, "I'll be back to take you along my beloved horizon, my Queen."

"Don't take long," I said tearfully.

Jack looked down at our hands before running out of the church, letting my hand slip from his. I watched him run away, hoping that I could hold him again someday soon.

I excused myself from the church and headed back into the castle. The grand room was brightened in a golden light from the setting sun. I saw the ghosts of people dancing gracefully across my memory, the elegant balls and celebrations my parents threw when I was a child. Memories my heart yearned for. I will create more.

I reached my room and opened the window where I looked out of the beautiful view of the harbor. I spotted theBlack Pearlbeginning her new adventure without me, and I saw Jack at the wheel, looking back at the castle.

I reached my arm out and gave him a wave. I saw him wave back, and I watched him yearningly as he sailed off into the horizon.

Chapter 5: Alice in Wonderland: Mad Hatter

Chapter Text

Narrator's POV

Alice was meandering around Underland, admiring the beautiful flowers and the unique flora and fauna of the quirky country. The mushrooms grew far above her head, and the ground was blanketed by green grass. Vibrant flowers littered the forest floor. She loved how radiant it was, not wishing to get back to colorless England any time soon.

She remembered the first time she visited Underland, the land was lively, glowing, and beautiful. After many years, she arrived back accidentally during the time of the Red Queen's vicious reign where all the color had bled out of the land, leaving behind burned up forests, bleak structures, and grey-ness. Now, the sky was once again a vibrant blue, with beautiful plants and trees that grew happily.

Alice found a little trail that led her through tall trees and plants until a clearing, where she saw a familiar sight of multiple tables pushed together. There were cracked plates and chipped cups over multiple off-white table cloths with plenty of stains. She walked up closer to the table, being the perfect-Alice size after lots of experimenting with the growing cakes and shrinking drinks. The invited guests of this tea party were the Dormouse, the Hare, and The Mad Hatter. Behind them, was a windmill that was once again in working order.

Alice cleared her throat gently to the Hatter, having known him for years. He looked up at her and a marvelous grin spread across his face.

"Alice!" Hatter shouted, gaining the attention of the Hare and the Dormouse.

"It's not Alice. She wouldn't come again so soon," the Dormouse groaned with a yawn.

"It's not Alice?!" The Hare shouted and pulled his long ears down. His eyes bugged crazily, and his grey hair was becoming white around his face.

"No, it is Alice. I'm certain of it. I'd know him anywhere!" Hatter said. He narrowed his eyes to the girl and asked cleverly, "right?"

Alice chuckled at his madness. "Yes, Hatter, it's me."

She was curious as to why the Hare and the Dormouse never believe it is her whenever she visits Underland. She blames it on aging. She does not believe that time seems to exist in Underland, thus why the Mad Hatter has looked the same since she first met him when she was a child.

"I'd know him anywhere! I was almost certain that you had forgotten our date!" He exclaimed as he stood up and ran across the table, causing more of the dishes to break under his weight. Alice saw his colorful and mismatched socks poke out from his striped pants.

He jumped off and landed in front of her, his big eyes shining green and his colorful polka dot bow tie extended in symbolism to his joyfulness. His pale skin was colorful with makeup, and he wore a Wellington top-hat on top of his head.

"I could never forget," Alice said to him.

Hatter took his gold pocket watch out of his plum colored jacket and said, "ah, no wonder you're late! This watch is exactly two days slow."

"I'm late?" Alice asked with a cock of her eyebrow. How is she always late?

"Come, darling, come! You are just in time for tea." Hatter ignored her question, taking Alice's hand in his own and walked with her to her designated seat at the table. His vibrant orange hair was wild under his hat. He never lets anyone sit in Alice's seat. He waits for her everyday, hoping and wishing she will stop by for tea.

"Would you like some tea?!" The Hare asked while he was wringing out his long floppy ears in a spazzing manner.

"Duck," Hatter warned. He and Alice ducked just in time for the Hare to chuck a container of sugar at their heads, and the porcelain shattered against a nearby tree.

"Thanks," Alice said to him as she sat down.

Hatter squatted down next to her and asked, "why is a raven like a writing desk?"

"Are you still trying to solve that silly riddle?" Alice asked him.

"Always will until we get it," the Hare said with a twitching eye.

The Mad Hatter stood up and sat in his favorite spot at the head of the table, right next to Alice. He asked her, "do you still think of six impossible things before breakfast?"

Alice smiled kindly and said, "indeed, I do."

The Hatter perked up and said, "still an excellent practice. I'm glad you haven't lost your muchness."

Alice chuckled before grabbing her tea cup and rose it to the Hatter's eye level with a slight smirk.

He gasped and said, "oh my poor dear, we have been terrible tea-hosts," before pouring some tea into her cup.

Alice asked the Dormouse, "could you hand me the sugar, please?"

"Why don't you ask the Hare?" The Dormouse said in her stubborn, and sassy way.

"Because he would promptly throw it at my head," Alice pointed out.

The Dormouse nodded and agreed, "probably," before she got behind the container of sugar and pushed it closer to Alice's reach.

Alice grabbed the sugar and poured some into her tea and took a sip. The best tea she has ever had. As she drank her tea, she noticed lovely cakes and scones and delicious pastries around the table to aid in the tea party. She complimented, "you always throw the best tea parties, Hatter."

Hatter smiled at her with his gap tooth and said rather softly, "only the best for my Alice."

Alice hid her growing smile with her tea cup and she asked, "how is the reign under the White Queen?"

"Marvelous. Wonderful. Marvelously wonderful!" The Hatter exclaimed loudly. Alice had almost forgotten how excitable and happy the Hatter was. That's why she loved him so much: he was completely bonkers. But, all the best people are.

"Why must you ask so many questions?" The Dormouse groaned and threw herself over her giant teacup.

"I've only asked one question," Alice defended.

"One too many," the Dormouse stated.

"She's absolutely right," the Hatter agreed, "you would not have to ask so many questions if you stayed. Will you stay, Alice?"

Alice glanced up at the Hatter, who looked at her with his giant green eyes, practically begging for her to never leave Underland again. She smiled sympathetically at him and said, "you know I love you and Wonderland, Hatter. To stay would be a crazy, mad, wonderful idea. But you know I can't."

She had misheard the name of this magical place when she was a child, calling it Wonderland for many years rather than Underland. Hatter thought it was rather adorable how she mispronounces his home, so he never bothers to correct her.

"I don't see why you couldn't." the Hatter shrugged. "As you can see, we've got tea... you've got me... that's a guarantee. Oh, have I made a rhyme?"

Alice chuckled and took another sip of her tea. She has always loved her time in Underland, a perfect place to visit to temporarily escape reality. She craved their chaotic energy every time she left Underland. She wanted a little chaos in her life.

The Hatter took a gulp of his tea and swallowed before he asked, "tell me, my dear, how has your travels been in Underland so far today?"

"Well, I came across the White Rabbit again, and the... you know," Alice said and let her voice trail off.

"I do?" Hatter asked, looking up at her in slight confusion... but he was always slightly confused.

"The C-A-T," she spelled it out, in case the Cheshire Cat was hiding behind his ability to become invisible.

"Teeeea?" Hatter asked, holding up the white kettle.

The Hare took a tea cup and cut it in half before he offered it to Hatter and said, "just half a cup, if you don't mind."

"Why, certainly!" Hatter said, reaching across Alice to pour tea into the broken cup which spilled onto her dress.

Alice stood up and tried to wipe the hot tea off her clothes. "Hatter!"

"Oh, oh!" Hatter exclaimed as he stood up and put the kettle down on the tea stained table cloth. The Hare began shakily sipping the drips that were clinging to the porcelain cup. Hatter continued, "I'm terribly sorry. Here. "He gave her a handkerchief that was in his pocket.

"If it's the least you can do," Alice said in frustration. When she looked up at Hatter to retrieve his peace offering, she couldn't help at smile at his goofy persona. He was her best friend, she couldn't stay mad at him for long. Sometimes she wishes that his head was screwed on a little tighter, but she would never want him to change anything about himself.

"We were about to sing a song," Hatter said and slowly sat back down as Alice was cleaning herself up. "Can you guess what day it is?"

Alice sat down again and tapped her chin as she thought. She stated, "it's not Christmas... and it is not Halloween..."

The Hare asked loudly, "what is she making up?"

Alice handed the tea-covered handkerchief back to Hatter and said, "I give up."

"It's my unbirthday!" The Dormouse announced.

"As is mine," Hatter pointed out.

"Mine too!" Hare said.

"What's an unbirthday?" Alice asked cluelessly.

"She doesn't remember what an unbirthday is!" Hare shouted in surprise.

"How silly!" Hatter giggled. "You celebrated with us the first time you traveled to Underland, remember?"

The memory quickly came flooding back to Alice. She smiled and said, "I nearly forgot. How rude of me. Today just so happens to be my unbirthday too."

"It is?!" Hatter asked, almost shocked, "oh, what a small world this is!"

The Hare began singing while cheering tea cups with the Hatter, "a very merry unbirthday!"

"To me?" Alice asked.

"To you!" Hatter announced.

"A very merry unbirthday," Hatter and the Hare sang together. Hatter grabbed a yellow tea kettle and removed the top. He peered in before he stuck his hand in and removed a little cake and handed it to Alice.

"For me?" Alice asked, taking the little cake which was complete with a small blue candle. She wasn't sure how it was possible for the Hatter to have had a small cake in a random tea kettle, but she had learned not to question what happens in Underland. What happens in Underland, stays in Underland.

"For you," Hatter sang, "now blow the candle out, my dear and make your wish come true."

Alice closed her eyes and wished that everyday could be like a magical trip to Underland. She blew out the candle, which resulted in the Hatter and the Hare to finish the song, "a very merry unbirthday to you!"

"I always enjoy your singing," Alice smiled and clapped happily. She always felt like a child again when she was with the Hatter. Full of laughter, joy, and madness. She doesn't have to grow up when she is here.

"Oh, what a delightful child!" Hatter cheered.

"What did you wish for?" Dormouse asked Alice.

Hatter tisked at Dormouse and wiggled his finger at her, "no, no. She mustn't say or it won't come true."

The Hare whipped his pocket watch from his dark vest and violently smashed it on the table. He held the face close to his face and his whiskers twitched along with his eye and he said, "it's ticking... it's ticking again!"

Hatter turned to Alice and said, "I'm so happy you spent one of your unbirthdays with us."

"There is no one I'd rather spend it with." Alice smiled at him.

Hatter smiled back at her, thrilled he got to have another day with his best friend. He wasn't sure how long she was going to stick around before she went back to England, and he did not know when she would return again. If it were up to him, she would stay in Underland forever. But until then, he was going to remain in the present with her, and enjoy their precious time together until they would meet again.

Chapter 6: Pirates of the Caribbean: Beyond the Sea

Chapter Text

(H/c)= hair color

Narrator's POV

Captain Jack Sparrow had sailed halfway around the world to find you, and he was not planning on letting you go. His longing for adventure sent him sailing away from you, until he realized that you were his greatest adventure.

He stood at the helm of theBlack Pearl, with one hand gripping the wheel as he sailed through the smooth waters. He imagined approaching a tropical island, watching you get bigger and bigger as you stood on the golden sand, anxiously waiting for him and watching the ships that sailed past, hoping that he was on one of them. He knew you were somewhere beyond the sea, waiting and watching for him. He promised that if he could fly high as a bird, he would fly straight to your arms. You were far beyond the stars, near the moon. But, Jack knew that without a doubt his heart would lead him straight to you.

That was exactly what you were doing. You were standing on the golden sand with memories of meeting Jack for the first time when he was at the port. Wearing a flowing white dress which blew softly with the salty sea air, you waited for his return. His empty promise to return left you in a daze, praying he would come back. Your wish was granted when a note from a bottle was delivered to you by Jack, stating that he was coming back to you.

Soon, the island began emerging on the horizon and Jack shifted the wheel as he sailed straight and true. Following his heart was the best compass he could have, which sent him home to you. He announced to his crew their orders, then he jumped off the ship and onto the dock, pushing past pirates until he could get onto the golden shore. You turned around and watched him bounce on one foot to rip his boots off in order to run faster in the sand. You giggled as he nearly toppled over, and humorously stood up straight and bobbed his head around until his eyes landed on you.

The months of being away from you succumbed to Jack as he raced to you as fast as he could. When he finally reached you, he gripped at your waist and threw you up in the air with a happy spin, elated to finally be seeing you again.

Once you got down to your feet, you looked up at him and said, "I knew you'd come back."

"I'd always come back for you, darling," he said before lifting up your chin to bring your lips to his in a kiss that he had been craving since he mistakenly left you on these very shores.

Once you pulled away, Jack was still leaning in close as he tucked your (h/c) hair behind your ear, and you could smell the burnt sugar and rum that lingered on his breath. You asked him in a low voice, "will you be happy with me, Jack?"

Jack furrowed his eyebrows at you and said, "love... never again will I go sailing, for we will be happy beyond the sea."

"No more sailing?" You asked with bright eyes.

"No more sailing, (y/n)," Jack reassured. He had a love for the ocean, but his love for you was much greater. If having you meant giving up theBlack Pearland the ocean, he would.

You stepped into a hug, pressing your cheek against his chest as Jack set his warm hand against the back of your head, rubbing his thumb up and down your scalp. He looked toward theBlack Pearl that was beginning to sail away, and he let out a salute to its new captain, Gibbs.

Gibbs returned the gesture, sad to be leaving Jack Sparrow but excited for his new adventure as captain. He ordered the crew to get them out of the shallows as fast as possible, and thePearlsailed off into the distance.

You and Jack stayed on the shores, watching as the sun went down to where the sky meets the sea. It took Jack a moment to get used to the idea of another man sailing away with his ship, but when he looked at you, all of his doubts went away.

Your love for Jack Sparrow was insurmountable, and you were elated when you found out that he was coming back to you. You both looked out to the calm sea, excited for what awaited you beyond the horizon.

Chapter 7: Ninth Gate: Book Lovers

Chapter Text

Jane's POV

I have worked at my job atPenny Lane Books, an antique book store in Salem, for a few years now. I'm a book keeper for the ancient books. I've always been fascinated by books, especially old ones. During my breaks, I always find myself picking up a book I've never read before. I have read nearly the entire collection we have in store, and we are always receiving new ones.

I walked into work, unlocking the old wooden door and flipping the closed sign to open. I recently became manager, so now I can open and close the shop all by myself. The rain outside was pelting the glass of the windows of this fall morning, while producing a gentle smell that mixed well with the sweet and musty scent of all the old books.

I shimmied off my long black coat to reveal a warm brown sweater to accommodate for the cold Massachusetts weather, as well as rustic orange corduroy pants. They were loose, but not long enough to hide my mismatched socks. I took a sip of my warm tea that I picked up from my favorite coffee shop and let the cup warm my hand. My dark curly hair had fallen out of the bun, so I left it down. I fiddled with the pearl necklace that laid on my chest as I turned on the light. I put my purse and my coat in the office to retrieve later when it was time to go.

We recently started selling records, so I walked to the end of the store to put a vinyl on the record player. I decided on soft tunes of Billy Joel, and grabbed one of his albums to play throughout the store. I only play soft songs for people to listen to as they read, or browse our impressive collection.

Our store has hundreds of books, all dating from the 16th century and all the way until the 19th century. I'm not an expert by any means, but I find it all so fascinating. Some might call me a bookworm, and I don't mind. Whenever work is slow, which is most of the time, I either find myself passing the time by reading another century-old masterpiece, or I do light housework around the store.

The dim light above my head and all the lamps have a yellow hue, which makes our shop look warm and welcoming. We have a spiral staircase in the back which leads to the top floor, where people usually go to so they can read their books in peace. There's a few shelves of books up there, as well as tables and chairs.

I had spent my long morning putting away ancient books that my boss had recently received. I was putting them along the isles of books that we have. It wasn't until I moved on to dusting around the store when I heard the door open for the first time all day.

I peered my head past the isle to get a look at my customer. I was taken aback by how handsome he was. He wore a tie, and a long grey coat. He had some grey hair tucked over his ear, with thick circle glasses balancing on his nose. He had a thin mustache and a dark Van Dyke style beard, which suited him well. I was immediately entranced by his good looks and almost had to look away so he didn't think I was staring.

"Hi, excuse me, do you work here?" He asked, noticing me try to dodge my head. He came up to me, and I looked up at him with my feather duster in my hands.

"Y-yes," I said a little awkwardly. I cleared my throat to ground myself and I returned to my normal self. I asked, "can I help you?"

He asked, "I'm looking for a book.Great Expectations. I've heard that the original copy landed in this town."

"Great Expectations?" I asked, chewing my bottom lip as I tried to think of all the books we received just this morning. "We received many books this morning, so we can take a look."

"Has anyone else been in this morning looking for it?" He asked, checking his watch.

"No, not yet," I told him. I put my duster down and started walking toward the closest book that I knew I put away this morning. I asked him, "who is the author?"

"Charles Dickens," he said.

"Fantastic writer," I said and spun around because I realized I was walking the wrong way. I nearly bumped into the man, and I apologized before I walked around him and kept going.

"This is supposed to have been published in 1894 and in excellent condition."

"You're a book lover, I imagine," I said.

"What gave me away?" He chuckled. "Yeah, no— I . I'm a rare book collector."

"And this book is to expand your collection?"

He nodded. "That's the plan."

"May I ask you name?" I asked as I stopped at the aisle where all of Charles Dickens work should be.

"Dean Corso," he said.

"Mr. Corso," I repeated because the name sounded familiar.

"Please, call me Dean." He gave me a soft smile that almost made me melt.

"I've heard of you," I said and turned my attention to the books. I know him as a rare book dealer, often scamming people for their books. Now, I have a face to the name.

"Nothing good, I hope," he joked.

"Not a single thing," I chuckled, bringing my hand up and fluttering my fingers as I tried to search for the thick book.

"What's yours?" He asked.

"Jane. Jane Glass," I introduced.

"Beautiful name."

"Thank you." I couldn't help but blush. I had to remind myself about his reputation.

"Ah, here it is," I said and pulled it out. It was not one of the oldest books we have ever received, but since the author is Charles Dickens, it's one of the most expensive.

The vellum cover is a dark red, and has light wear on the head and heel. Otherwise, it's in excellent condition. The engraving is steel, and I noticed tissue paper guarded the impressive illustrations in the book. I carefully handed it to Dean, and he gently took it from my hands.

He opened the book gently and said, "God almighty. Tight spine."

"That's quite rare," I pointed out, but I'm sure he already knew that. He's famous on the east coast in the book community. It would have been a privilege just to have him in the store, if he didn't have a reputation of being greedy, selfish, and ambitious. It almost made me respect him. Almost.

He began to flip through the pages so delicately, looking so intrigued at the magnificent book.

He said to me, "this is the finest rag paper, resistant to the passage of time. None of the modern wood pulp."

"It's incredible how well persevered it's stayed," I stated.

"Yes, it is," he agreed. He closed the book and looked at me with chocolate brown eyes and asked, "would you mind if I stayed to read it?"

"Not at all. We have a reading spot upstairs. I have to head up there anyway for just a moment."

He smiled. "Lead the way." He walked alongside me as we headed to the spiral staircase. He said, "we have a staircase where I work too."

"Where do you work?" I asked.

"In New York City," he said.

"That's a long drive," I said over my shoulder as I stepped up the stairs.

"Could have been further. I'm lucky," he said.

We reached the top of the stairs and I gestured to our table where he was free to read as many books as he wished. I turned on the nearby lamp to make it easier to see. I had to organize one of the shelves of books up there anyway.

I could hear the Billy Joel record playing from up there, so I asked, "is the music too loud? I can turn it off."

"No, it's great," he reassured. He sat down at the table and opened up the book. Over his shoulder, he asked, "what time do you close?"

I checked my bare wrist, as if I had a watch, then I answered, "not for a few hours."

"All right. Thank you," he said and got back to his book.

After my quick shuffle of books on the shelf, I walked to the stairs to begin my descent. I froze when I heard Dean shaking a box of cigarettes. Then, I spoke up when I saw him flick his lighter, "there's no smoking in the library."

He paused and awkwardly shoved the cigarette back in its package and he said to me over his shoulder, "I'm sorry."

Satisfied that a professional such as himself would keep his promise of not smoking in my shop, I went downstairs to continue cleaning.

I had a few more customers come into the store, buying books for themselves or their loved ones. One other man came looking for the Charles Dickens book, but I had to break the news to him that it was already sold. But days here are usually slow, not many people want to go to antique book stores.

We have a computer in the office, so I did a little research on the Charles Dickens book because my boss had not yet come to put a price on it. I wasn't an expert, as I've mentioned before, so I had to rely on my gut intuition as well as some light internet research to set a price myself. If Dean wanted it, I wasn't going to let him try to low-ball me.

I finished all my duties for the day, and checked the nearby clock we have on the wall. It was already a few minutes past closing time, so I figured it was time to lock up shop. I walked to the door and flipped the lock, and turned the open sign to closed. I headed to the back of the shop to turn off the relaxing music, and then all I could hear was the continuous sounds of the rain thrumming the roof.

I performed all of my closing duties. I made sure the books were tidy, and I counted the money in the register. I walked back to the office to grab my long coat and purse, ready to leave for the day. I turned off the main light, and saw that I forgot to turn off the lamp upstairs. My mind wandered to how I never checked Dean Carso out at the register, nor did I see him leave. I dropped my purse on the counter and walked briskly to the stairs. Skipping a step, I ran up the stairs, half-expecting to see no one up there and that he had run off with the expensive book. However, I felt instantly relief when I saw Dean slumped over the table, with the book in front of him and his hands resting on the surface of the table.

I could hear his heavy breathing, and I wasn't quite sure what to do. I've never had to wake up a sleeping man before. I was about to turn off the light, but decided not to until he was awake. I put one hand in my coat pocket and the other on his shoulder. I shook him tenderly as I said, "hey, Dean. Dean, wake up."

His eyes shot open with a grunt. He lifted his head up slowly, and I retreated my hand into my pocket. He rubbed the back on his head groggily, and sat up.

"Was I snoring?" He asked as he looked up at me with squinted eyes.

"I'm not sure," I told him and he woke up fully. I said, "sorry to wake you, but we are closing."

"Oh, oh," he said and began to gather his belongings. I began walking to the stairs, pausing at the lamp to click it off. I walked down the stairs and he followed behind me closely. "I'm sorry. I didn't think I'd be here this long."

I chuckled, "neither did I."

"I'll get out of your hair," he said. He held the book in his hands, and I waited for him at the bottom of the stairs.

"Checking out?" I asked.

"What?" He asked, raising his eyebrows at me.

"The book." I pointed at it.

"Oh, the book. Yes, let's ring it up," he said and cleared his throat.

"Great. The register is this way," I said and began to lead him through the shop to the antique register. I was a little annoyed since I had already taken the money out of the register for the day, but the book is so expensive, I don't want to lose that sale.

"What's been your favorite book? You must read a lot, I imagine," he asked me.

"That's a hard one... but I have to say it's theThe Vicar of Wakefield, by Oliver Goldsmith. It was published in 1766."

He squinted his eyes before he shook his head. "I haven't heard that one."

"Oh, it's great. The copy I have is original, bound in calfskin. It's a novel about a rich man who loses all his money to bankruptcy. His family moves to a new humble area, where they have to become accustomed to it. The book follows the family and their adventures through love, reputation, and loss. Goldsmith explores themes of prudence, fortitude, and religion."

"That book sounds incredibly interesting. Hopefully I can get my hands on that sometime. Have you readAristide Torchio The Devil's Apprentice,written by Baroness Kessler?"

"No, I'm afraid I haven't," I said honestly.

"It's truly fascinating. It's a bibliography of her meeting the Devil when she was fifteen years old. How about this proposition... if you let me borrow your book, I'll let you borrow mine."

It almost pained me to give my prized book to a stranger, but if he trusted me enough with his, I could trust him with mine. I smiled up at him, which in turn made him smile down at me. I said, "I think that's a great idea."

We reached the register, where I grabbed my purse from the counter and put it down by my feet. He handed me the book, and I entered a special code into the register for the book.

"$40,000," I said.

Dean whistled low. Then he asked, "that's a little steep, eh?"

I shrugged. "I'm sorry. I can't let it go lower than that."

$30,000?" He asked.

I shook my head.

"$32,000? $35,000? $38,000? $39,000? $39,500?"

"$40,000," I repeated.

I heard him gulp softly before he shook his head with an emerging smile. He said, "you drive a hard bargain, but you've got yourself a deal."

He wrote out a check and handed it to me. I verified the check, and then gave him his receipt. I put the book in a protective bag, so the rain and other elements wouldn't ruin it until he got home.

"Here you go," I said as I offered the items to him.

"Thank you, Jane," he said and took the receipt and the bag. " I was wondering if... you'd want to accompany me for dinner tonight?"

I was a little taken aback by his question. I wasn't expecting it, but I got excited. I nodded with a dopey grin and said, "I'd love to."

"Great, then it's a date," he said, returning the dorky smile.

I walked around the counter to walk with him to the door. I unlocked it and asked, "when will you pick me up?"

"You can come with me to my hotel if you'd like," he suggested. "Then we can talk about where we want to go to dinner."

I smiled. "Let me grab my bag."

I left to grab my purse that I left and got back to Dean. I looked around the store to make sure that I did not forget to do anything. When I was satisfied, I closed the door and locked it. It was still raining outside, but the awning above our heads was keeping us relatively dry.

"Ready?" He asked.

I lifted my coat to cover my hair and I said, "I'm ready."

We took the opportunity to race through the rain, running through every puddle until we reached his car.

Chapter 8: Pirates of the Caribbean: The Painter

Chapter Text

Ivy's POV

I sat on my little wooden stool with my art easel propped in front of me, where I had a glorious view of the shimmering ocean. The sun was bright overhead, which made me sweat under my corset and cream petticoat. I didn't have a ribbon to tie my dark hair up, so it fell down my back in natural waves.

I held my paint brush in my hand with all my luscious paints at my disposal, but it wasn't the ocean I was painting. I was painting the lovely song that a musician was playing nearby from an accordion. I have a rare condition where I can see the colors of sounds, so I paint what I hear which gives a visual representation of what I can hear.

I sell my paintings for a few pieces of silver. I honestly make a lot of money doing this, but it isn't exactly legal. I am constantly having to move locations to avoid getting arrested for selling goods without a permit.

I dipped my paintbrush in a dark blue color as a nearby musician was playing his song. I proceeded to brush the colors I saw as I heard his music on a blank canvas, humming along to the song softly. I tried to block out the sounds of the water, people walking around me, and the seabirds that tried to distract me with their ugly squawking.

I was almost done with my painting when I could feel someone standing behind me. I paused to peer over my shoulder and I saw a pirate. He had long dark dreadlock hair with a linen jacket with brass buttons and high sea boots. His pistol grabbed my attention as it was peeking out over his belt and his hands slid into his pockets. At this port so close to the docks, it is not uncommon to see pirates. I turned back to my painting and started to add a pale green to the colorful canvas.

The pirate cleared his throat loudly and decided to point it out, "that doesn't look like the ocean."

I chuckled softly. "It's not. It's the song."

I nearly jumped when his head rushed next to mine. His goatee braids dangled right above my shoulder. He squinted his dark eyes and tilted his head to the side, trying to figure out what my canvas represented. He finally snarled his lip and said, "I don't see it."

I chuckled, "I have an eye condition where I can see colors and textures when I hear sounds. It's called auditory-visual synesthesia."

His nose twitched, then he asked, "are they similar to... hallucinations?"

"I suppose," I said.

He stood up straight and walked around me with a cocky swagger and he asked, "all sounds?"

"All sounds," I reiterated with a nod.

He pondered for a moment before he asked, "what does my voice look like?"

Without missing a beat, I knew exactly what his voice looked like. I smiled up at the handsome pirate and said, "why tell you, when I can show you."

"By all means," he said with a gesture of his hand. He sat on the extra stool I have by my easel and allowed me to paint.

I took the canvas off and replaced it with a fresh one, and I asked the pirate to tell me a story so I could accurately get his colors right.

"Have you heard the tale of the Curse of theBlack Pearl?" He asked with a thrill in his voice.

I shook my head, but I dipped my paintbrush in my purple color and began painting.

As the pirate talked, his voice would change with his emotion and expression, and the amount of tremble and excitement in his voice would vary. I really enjoyed hearing his story, and I absolutely loved painting his deep, beautiful voice.

Once his story was over, my painting was complete.

"Let's see," he said and staggered over to me to look at it.

I put my paintbrush away and I explained, "in your normal speaking voice, I could see that your voice was dark green with touches of sky blue. When you got worked up or excited, it turned into a burnt orange with tinges of yellow. Sometimes, when you were being mysterious, your voice turned into a deep, smooth purple and silver that would alternate frequently. Your texture was very smooth most of the time."

"This is fantastic," he complimented. He took out some silver from his pocket and he flicked it my way. I snatched it out of the air and slid it into my dress pocket.

I quickly signed my name at the bottom and handed him the canvas.

He smiled and said, "thanks, love."

"You there!" The guards of the port shouted at me in a tone that reminded me of a fireball red. There were at the end of the cobblestone street, but they were holding rifles in their hands and pointing at me.

"Bloody hell," I muttered under my breath as I tried to gather all my belongings. The pirate helped me gather my paints and I tried to find a place I could run to.

"This way!" He said and I followed him by hoisting up my skirt and chasing him through the port as the guards were yelling at us. People around us were stepping out of our way, and I could hear them muttering in our direction. He called off to his ship, "lift anchor! Time to go, time to go!"

We got on the ship just in time for it to pull away, but the guards were left cursing us out on the dock. The pirate and I stood on the main deck, looking back at the docks of the port. My heart was beating out of my chest, and my corset was too tight to have been running comfortably.

The guards lifted their rifles, and the pirate yanked me down below the taffrail just in time for the bullets to rush over our heads. I looked up at the sky in astonishment, with my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath.

He nonchalantly offered me his hand as we both laid on the dirty floor. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Ivy," I greeted and shook his hand. His bounty of rings glistened in the sun.

He smiled at me with a devilish look in his eye. A look that was adventurous, daring, and so much fun. In a tone that I would describe to be rough and red, he said, "welcome to the Black Pearl, love."

Chapter 9: Pirates of the Caribbean: The Telepath

Chapter Text

Sarah's POV

I sat in the jail cell, resting my heavy head against the corner between the stone wall and the cold jail bars. This is where I would spent the rest of my days. Well, day. I was scheduled to be executed in the morning. I was accused of being a witch. Honestly, I think they're right.

I don't talk with the Devil, and I don't know how to curse people. I cannot control animals, and I never sold my soul to the Devil either. However, there is one thing I cannot control that tends to scare people, which has labeled me as a witch and has doomed me. I'm not sure what the proper term is, but I can hear people speaking when their lips aren't moving. I can hear whatever they are thinking. I've been able to do this ever since I was a child. I was able to keep it a secret for many years, but as soon as I reached my 25th birthday, the voices got louder and uncontrollable. I often mistake people's thoughts for what they're actually saying. This has caused a lot of issues, resulting in my trial and being accused as a witch.

I was sitting alone in my cell, with no one else around. The quiet was immaculate. Even if one person is nearby, I can hear their thoughts. Lately, I can hear the thoughts of people who are far away. If we are between walls or doors, they're muffled. I wish I could learn how to turn it off. What I used to believe to be a gift has cursed me.

I have been wearing the same dress for weeks now. My corset has not come off in so long, I felt like I was molded to it. The ends of my blue skirt were filthy, and I haven't been able to have a wash in forever. My greasy and dirty hair was pulled back with a ribbon to keep out of my face, and all I wanted was a proper bath.

My eyes shot open when I heard the main door squeak open followed by the sound of boots dragging on the floor. Two guards were carrying a pirate to the cell beside mine. Their arms were locked with his, and his head hung low. He wore a tricorne hat on top of his head, and he had long dreadlocks and braids that came out of his hat.

"I cannot wait to see Jack Sparrow swing in the gallows in the morning, what a fine way to start the day," one of the guards thought cheerfully.

"Shall that witch be burned at the stake, or hung?" The other guard thought.

"These men are strong. Tight grip," a new voice said. That must be the pirate.

I closed my eyes to try to ignore their thoughts, but it was difficult. They sound as clear as if it was coming out of their own throats. When I respond to what others are thinking, people get suspicious. After the Salem Witch Trails in the colonies, here in England no one was too careful.

The guards left me and who I assumed to be Jack Sparrow in cells beside each other. Jack sprawled out on the dirty and hay covered ground, and his hat fell beside him. He closed his eyes and put his hat over his face. I noticed a scab on his cheek.

"How can I get out of here... how can I get out of here... what if I never get out of here? Am I doomed to hang in the gallows? I probably shouldn't have shagged with that maid. How was I supposed to know she was the mayors daughter? I wish they let me have some rum in my final hours. Rum's good," he thought.

"Hey, Jack, can you keep it down, please? I'm trying to sleep," I mumbled.

"Bloody hell. I didn't say anything," he thought. He lifted his hat off his face and rolled his head to look at me. Then he continued, "oh, a woman. Oi, look at those... she is a great view for my final hours. Maybe I can trick her into showing me her knees. If I play me cards right, I might be able to see her knickers. It'll be like going to heaven. We all know that not where I'm gonna end up."

"Turn your bloody brain off," I pleaded. I wished I could go back to five minutes ago to when I finally had silence for once. The mind of a man is always muddled and indecent.

"Me brain?" He thought.

"Yes, your brain," I said.

"Oi!" He sat up frantically. "Stop talking to me like I'm the one doing the talking. Am I talking? I'm not talking."

"You are now," I yawned and rested my head against the bars again.

"Witch," he mumbled.

"I'm not a witch," I said back. But I honestly could be. I wish I wasn't, but I don't know anyone else who can hear the thoughts of others. I've met some people that cannot even hear their own thoughts. Lucky bastards.

Jack dropped his hat and squinted at me between the bars. He said, "what am I thinking right now?Rum."

"Rum," I repeated. My corset forced me to sit up straight no matter what position I'm sitting in.

"Rum bum bum—"he thought.

"Stop rhyming," I interrupted.

"How do you know me name?" He asked.

"One of the guards said it," I stated.

"They didn't say anything," he pointed out.

"They thought it. Whatever," I said.

"Devil."

"No," I said, "this isn't something I can control. I can't help it."

"You can hear what I'm thinking?" He asked.

"Yes," I said.

"How about now?" His lips didn't move.

"Still yes."

His mind went blank. He didn't really have that many thoughts that I could hear. Then he asked, "are you a pirate?"

"No," I said.

"Have you any inquires of sailing across the seven seas?" He asked.

"No. Why?"

"I think you would be a valued member of me crew on me ship, The Black Pearl," he said. Then he thought, "she has nice eyes. Neck like a giraffe."

"I have no experience on a ship," I said, still trying to ignore this thoughts.

"If we get sprung out of here, I would gladly accept you on me crew. You can read the thoughts of our enemies and we will be one step ahead of them," he said. "We can take over the seas."

"That would be a great idea, if we were not trapped in these cells," I groaned.

"There's got to be a way out of here," he thought as he looked around.

"There isn't," I told him, "I've been here for weeks and I've seen nothing."

"What's your name?" He asked.

"Sarah."

"Sarah. That's a lovely name," he thought.

"And you are Jack Sparrow?" I asked.

"Captain. Captain Jack Sparrow," he corrected. "Why does everyone forget the Captain in me name?"

Suddenly, the main door opened which grabbed our attention. We both looked at each other and he thought, "it's not morning already, is it?"

We both stood up and rushed to the front of the bars. I pressed my head against the steel bars, trying to see who was coming down the hallway. Eventually, I saw an older man walking towards us. I could hear him think, "where is he... where is he... not here... where is he... Jack!"

"Master Gibbs!" Jack announced, "you've come for me!It's about time."

"Me and the crew couldn't let our captain hang in the gallows," Gibbs said. His eyes glanced at me and he thought, "my, a beautiful creature set for an execution. It's a shame. I'm curious what her crime was."

"We have to let Miss Sarah come with us," Jack told Gibbs as Gibbs fiddled with a set of skeleton keys and tried to unlock Jack's cell. Jack stood right in front of Gibbs, swaying softly as if he was on a ship.

"Why's that, Cap'n?I'm not complaining."

"She's got magical abilities," Jack said, "she has the right amount of madness for the Black Pearl."

"Cap'n?" Gibbs paused. "What the bloody hell does that mean?"

"Keep going, man, don't stop," Jack nearly shouted.

"Oh, right," Gibbs said and still tried to unlock the cell.

"Show him," Jack told me with an extravagant gesture of his arm. Then he turned to Gibbs and instructed, "think of something... anything."

Gibbs rolled his eyes and looked straight at me just as he clicked the lock of Jack's cell. Then he thought, "I'm not going to tell Jack about the bottle of rum I drank from his cabin."

I wasn't sure if I should repeat it, but I did anyway. Jack's jaw dropped and he swung the door open and he marched up to Gibbs. He thumped his nose and grunted through his teeth, "as punishment you will be sleeping in the brig."

"How did—how did she?" Gibbs stammered, looking frantically between me and Jack.

"She can read your thoughts," Jack said to him with a devilish grin. He took the keys out of his hands and began to unlock my cell. "It will be refreshing to have a beautiful lass on me ship so I don't have to look at me crew's ugly mugs all day."

"Hey!" I snapped at him.

Jack froze and he looked at me with his big brown eyes and thought, "what?"

Gibbs thought, "oh, she's angry.Women are bad luck."

"I'd rather you men did not think of me based solely on how I look and the fact that I am a woman. All men are dogs and I will not tolerate such treatment when I am stuck on a ship with you all in the middle of the ocean. I wish to be respected and treated as such," I said confidently.

"We will have to control our thoughts now?" Gibbs thought, "I'm sure we will learn."

Jack sighed softly and thought, "fine. It'll be better to have her on the ship than not to have her. I'll have a word with the crew and I will make sure that no one takes advantage of her or they will be punished by getting marooned, or keelhauled. No excuses and no exceptions."

"As you wish, Miss Sarah," Jack said and the lock clicked. He swung the door open and gestured his arm out to let me leave.

My skirt was short enough that I didn't have pick it up as I walked, so I swiftly left the cell and led the escape out of the prison.

Jack thought, "she's feisty, I like that in a woman. Are those her ankles?! The Black Pearl just got a whole lot more interesting."

"I heard that," I snapped.

"Sorry," he said in a low voice.

Once we escaped the prison, we ran as fast as we could to the harbor. We dodged guards trying to recapture us, as well as the kings men. As soon as we reached a magnificent ship with black sails, I knew it was the Black Pearl because Jack thought, "it's the Pearl! My Pearl!"

His crew was waiting for us and as soon as we boarded, they began our journey to the great sea. Jack introduced me to the crew, and told them about my unique ability. A few of them forced me to prove it, and it scared them more than it intrigued them. Jack threaten to keelhaul and maroon them if they did anything to make me uncomfortable, which they did not take lightly. They never bothered me.

After England disappeared from view, I was standing on the deck and I admired the ocean. I've never been on a ship before, and I was beginning to love it. The horizon brought endless possibilities, and the sounds of the calm waves were relaxing. I got distracted when a faint voice was mumbling in my head.

"That's the Black Pearl. We shall seize it, and capture the crew and begin our fleet."

The voice was faint and far away, but they didn't sound friendly. I looked around for Jack, and I saw him standing by the wheel and was looking out in the distance with a telescope. I followed the direction he was looking at, and noticed a ship in the distance. It looked small from far away, but I'm sure up close it was massive.

"That's what?" I asked as I walked up to him. He truly is a handsome man, so I'm glad he could not read my thoughts. He seems like he would never let me forget that I thought that.

"That, me dear, is a ship," he stated the obvious. "Obviously. For a witch, she isn't that bright."

"Shouldn't we... take cover? I don't know the pirate terms," I stated.

"Why is it the pretty ones are always crazy? What is she talking about?" He frowned and asked, "no, why?"

Sometimes I forget that they can't hear what I can. I told him, "they're planning on taking over the ship."

"Bugger." His eyebrows furrowed at me. "How do you know that?"

"We will use the element of surprise to our advantage, she will never know what hit her," the voice thought again, a little louder. I looked to the ship and saw that it was a little closer.

"I heard them," I stated, "they're planning to attack."

His eyes widened, "you heard them from all the way over there?"

I nodded, and Jack took a moment before he began frantically shouting at his crew to prepare the cannons and get ready for battle. He ran past me and jumped onto the deck while his crew was scurrying around the ship, completing his orders.

I knew I would probably not get to experience silence for the rest of my life, but it didn't bother me so much anymore. I was excited to begin this new chapter of my life, sailing with Captain Jack Sparrow.

Chapter 10: Corpse Bride: Victor's Sister

Chapter Text

Elizabeth's POV

I didn't notice how grey life was until my younger brother, Victor, began pointing it out. He had some sort of awakening or epiphany after his wedding rehearsal dinner when he ran out in a panic into the woods. I'm not sure what exactly happened to him, but he was missing for quite a few days. We all looked for him, but he disappeared without a trace. I was terrified that he got lost in the woods and would never return, but when he finally came back, he talked of the Land of the Dead and how he accidentally got married to a deceased woman named Emily... It was a very confusing time for everyone. He was clearly sick. Thankfully, he got better and stopped talking about it.

I stood with Victor, right outside the church where his fiancée, Victoria, was in her wedding dress waiting for him inside. I had been in the room with her until my mother fetched me to say that Victor was having a bit of a breakdown outside of the church so I rushed to his assistance.

"I'm terribly sorry, Elizabeth," Victor said in his relaxing voice. "I-I-I didn't mean for you to come get me."

"It's all right," I reassured. I picked up the skirt of my light grey dress which had lace at the end as I walked up to him. "What's happened? Why are you so nervous?"

"It's—it's marriage! I believe I can afford to have some anxiety," he said while nervously twisting his tie.

"I can understand—"

"No," he interrupted, "no you can't. You've never been married!"

I opened my mouth to speak, but I was stunned. I didn't know what to say, so I swallowed the harsh lump in my throat.

Victor's face fell and he said, "oh, goodness, Elizabeth, I'm terribly sorry. Do forgive me. I—I... I didn't mean it. Honestly, I didn't. How rude of me to..."

I took a shaky breath, and tried not to hold his mistake against him. I had a fiancé, but he recently passed on. I haven't fallen in love since, because I believe that he was my one true love. His death has been tremendously difficult for me. I haven't been able to move on.

I looked at my younger brother, and smiled softly. He has always been so shy and nervous, and bumbling. He is similar to our father, because they are both lanky. Victor and I have the same dark brown hair, but mine is longer. His hair is always messy, which annoys our mother so much. We have the same slim face, and pale complexion. However, my eyes are a dark hazel color, and in some lightings they are only green while his are dark brown.

"What's the worst that could happen? You've already set her mother on fire."

Victor's lips twitched up at the memory that was now a little joke in our family.

"You love Victoria," I reminded him, "and she loves you. She is in that church at this moment, waiting to call you her husband."

"She is?" He asked with big eyes.

"She is. I promise. If I had the opportunity to marry Edward, I would," I said. Edward was my fiancé, whom I loved with all my heart before his untimely death.

"Well, it is possible," Victor said. He peered down at his suit and brushed some imaginary dirt off his arm.

"What?" I asked.

"That's how I met Emily. I accidentally married her," he chuckled softly.

He was talking about Emily, his corpse bride, again. It worried me, but he has always had a bit of an overactive imagination. He must have hit his head hard in those woods, or he had fallen extremely ill. I thought we were passed all of that by now. I just hoped he wasn't telling Victoria about his corpse bride.

"By the way, I saw him down there," Victor said.

"Saw who?"

"Edward. When I was in the Land of the Dead," he said. He looked at me and said, "he said that he misses you terribly and he loves you. He's excited for you to die so you can be with him again. But, he also gave you his blessing to marry another man, because he wants you to be happy."

That was incredibly comforting, no matter how morbid that was. I almost got emotional. I cleared my throat and sat up a little straighter, and the corset helped tremendously with that. I said, "what I've learned with Edward's death, is that you shouldn't waste any time. Go after who you love, and what you love. You only get one life, so live it well."

Victor's lips tugged up softly and he said, "thank you, Elizabeth."

Our long arms wrapped around each other in a hug. When we pulled apart, I said, "the future Mrs. Van Dort is waiting for you."

"That's right." Then he gasped and his eyes got wide, "I'm getting married!"

"You're getting married!" I exclaimed. Victor ran up the church stairs and I called out to him, "do you have the ring?"

Victor paused and pulled out the ring which popped out of his fingers. He frantically caught it in the air and showed it to me, which made me laugh softly. He put it back in his pocket and slipped through the large church door. I chuckled gently, and I lifted up my stiff skirt and began walking up the steps. I stopped when a beautiful blue butterfly flew in my direction, and I lifted my finger up in the air. It rested on my finger, and I was able to admire it's beautiful blue wings. When the butterfly flapped away, I smiled at the universe and walked into the church to watch my brother get married to the love of his life.

Chapter 11: What's Eating Gilbert Grape: Isa Meets Gilbert

Chapter Text

Isa Walter's POV

I had a list in my hand of all the errands I had to run for my mom. The first thing on my list was to go to the dry cleaners to drop off an old comforter. Then, I went to the grocery store.

It was bright and warm in my small town of Wealdstone. I was wearing a light yellow crop top with light blue jeans to reflect my cheery mood. In the heart of my town, we have very few shops that were never very busy, especially in the middle of a week day.

I was going down my list, adding the items to the little shopping cart I was pushing around. The store was small and smelled like an old and overworked air conditioning unit, and light country tunes played in the store that I found myself humming along to. I think I was the only one in the store, because I didn't see anyone as I was going down the aisles.

I finally headed up to the register, walking slowly as I went down my shopping list one more time and finding the items in the basket. Once I was content that I grabbed everything I needed, I looked back up and walked confidently to the patient cashier.

The cashiers name tag read Boris, and I always see her working here. She smiled at me kindly and said in a southern accent, "afternoon, Isa."

"Hi Boris," I smiled back and started putting my items on the conveyor belt for her to ring up.

"How are your folks?"

"Oh, they're fine," I said, "Mom's having me do some errands while she is working on the garden."

"That's awfully sweet of you. I'm sure your mama sure does appreciate it."

I grinned and grabbed my wallet and started fishing for cash when the front door opened. The bell above the door rang which made me look up and I had to pause when I saw a handsome guy walk into the store. He had light, almost reddish brown hair that sat lusciously on his shoulders and the sharpest cheekbones I've ever seen. He seemed a little older than me, and I had never seen him before in my life. I would have definitely recognized him if he lived around here.

He looked around for a moment before our eyes locked. A smile tugged at his lips and he made his way over to us. I tried to act busy by counting my money, but he cleared his throat to get our attention.

"Hi, sorry to both you, but, um— I'm trying to find the Welcome to Wealdstone sign. Where can I find it?"

Boris spoke up, "first, you're gonna wanna go East on Sutton, then a left on Maple, and Greenway will throw you through a loop but as soon as you're back on Main, take another left then go North," Boris said the most complicated directions I have ever head.

"What?" He asked with his dark eyebrows raised in confusion. I know exactly where the welcome sign is, and even I got confused by those directions.

"Hey, if you help me carry these to my car, I'll lead you to the sign," I offered. I used my fingers to casually fluff my light brown hair off my shoulder. I always think that it would feel better if I put my hair up because of the heat, but I preferred my hair down.

Our town's welcome sign is our only attraction and it can be difficult to find for newcomers. It's quite large, and saysWelcome to Wealdstonein big white letters behind a green background. Luckily, I know exactly where it is because I've lived here my entire life. I know nearly everyone and every nook and cranny of this small town.

He grinned and said, "I'd appreciate that."

I gave Boris my cash and traded it for three bags of groceries. The guy came over to me and grabbed two of them and helped me carry them to my car. I had to fish my car keys from my pocket before I stuck the key into the door to unlock it.

With my free hand, I opened the door for him and he put the grocery bags in the back seat for me. I closed the door and said, "thanks..." my voice trailed off because I didn't know his name.

"Gilbert," he introduced.

"Gilbert?" I asked, making sure I heard him correctly because it's not a common name.

He nodded softly.

"I'm Isa," I said.

"Isa? That's a beautiful name," he said.

I couldn't help but blush at the handsome stranger. "Why, thank you."

"Which way to the sign?" He asked.

"The sign? Oh, right. I have to head in that direction anyway so just follow me."

"Okay," he said and walked to his car. I hopped into mine, and waited until he started his car before I pulled off onto the empty road.

I looked back at him through my rear view mirror, and he gave me a soft wave. Blood rushed out of my face when he caught me staring so I quickly adjusted the mirror so I could only see my vibrant deep blue eyes looking back at me. I turned the radio up a little to distract myself and I drove him straight to the sign.

I pulled over in front of it, and Gilbert's car swung in behind mine. He got out of his car, so I did too. He squinted up at the sign, and I noticed that he was holding a disposable camera in his hand.

"There she is," I stated, "ain't she a beaut?"

"Yeah, no, it's great," he chuckled softly. "I promised my kid brother I'd get him a picture of it."

I looked down at his camera then back up at Gilbert and offered, "I can take your picture if you want me too."

"You will?"

"Absolutely," I said and brought my hand up to take the camera. When he handed me the camera, I pointed toward the sign and said, "go on, stand over there and I'll get your picture."

I took a few steps back, until I was leaning against the hood of my car and Gilbert walked closer to the sign. I smiled at him as I brought the viewfinder up to my eye and made sure that he was in the shot with the sign. I turned the scroll wheel to the right until it wouldn't let me turn anymore.

"One, two, three, smile!" I called out and I pressed the button to take the picture. Gilbert had his hands in his coat pockets as he smiled, and the camera clicked which told me that it took the picture.

Gilbert walked up to me and I handed him back the camera. He said, "I have to get the film developed."

"I hope someday they can make cameras where you can see your picture as soon as you take it," I chuckled.

He chuckled back and slipped the camera in his back pocket. "Yeah. Me too."

"But believe me, you looked great," I reassured.

Gilbert blushed softly and he rubbed his nose with a sniff. He seems like such a quiet guy, which contrasted a bit with my more outgoing nature.

"I'm getting hungry," he said, "know any good places around here?"

"Oh, I know this adorable little diner just a couple miles further down the road. They're famous for their homemade milkshakes," I said. As soon as I mentioned their milkshakes, my stomach decided to quietly rumble.

"I get lost real easily. You might have to lead me there. I'll buy you lunch," he said.

Was this a date? It didn't matter to me, I was going to go no matter what. I smiled and said, "I'd love to."

"Great, lead the way," he said. We both popped back into our cars and I led him to the diner.

As soon as we got there, we found a booth toward the back of the restaurant that we decided to sit at. I pushed some of my hair behind my shoulder as I took a quick look at their menu, even though I already knew what I wanted to eat.

After we ordered, I said to Gilbert, "you're not from around here, I'm guessing."

"You guess right. I'm from Endora, Iowa."

I raised my eyebrows. I wasn't sure where Endora was, I've never heard of it. But, I knew that Iowa was pretty far. I said, "long way from home. What brings you out to our neck of the woods?"

"My family and I recently had to leave our family home, so I've been looking over here for jobs," Gilbert said.

"Who is your family?"

"I've got two sisters, and my younger brother, Arnie," Gilbert answered.

"Arnie," I repeated. "That's a cute name."

Gilbert chuckled softly, "that kid is always getting into trouble. I swear, he is gonna make my hair turn grey one of these days. Have you lived here long?"

"I've lived here my whole life," I said, "this place is pretty small, but it's home."

"It's so small, I thought Arnie made this place up. I guess it was in a book one of my sisters read to him or something, because he really wants a picture of the welcome sign."

"You gotta get that developed as soon as you get home so he doesn't have to wait any longer," I said.

"I will, don't worry." He smiled.

We received our food and we started eating. After the first few bites and a sip of his strawberry milkshake, he said, "wow, this is really good."

"I told you!" I giggled and had a sip of mine. "I've never had a better shake."

"We don't have anything like this in Endora," he said.

"Whatdoyou have in Endora?" I asked.

"I currently work at a grocery store over there, but they're closing. A Foodland supermarket opened up in town so everyone has been going there."

"I hate when big chains open in small towns like ours." I shook my head, "they take all the business away from the little guys."

"Yeah," he agreed. Gilbert checked his watch and I saw his eyes grow wide for a moment. He grabbed a napkin to wipe his mouth and he said, "I gotta hit the road, it's getting late."

"Already?" I asked.

"Yeah, I have to be getting home. My sisters will be wondering where I am if I'm not back by nightfall."

"Shoot," I said. I know I just met him, but I didn't want him to leave yet.

"I promise to come back. I have a picture of the sign, so I'll never forget where it is, or the beautiful girl who took it," he said sheepishly. He pulled some bills from his wallet and put it on the table then he shimmied out of the booth.

I blushed softly and we walked to our cars together. He was so easy to talk to and get along with, I felt like I've known him forever. As a goodbye, he pulled me into a hug and I hugged him back.

"Drive safe," I said out of habit when we pulled apart.

"You too. I'll see you soon, Isa," he said and got into his car.

I leaned against my car and I waved him off. He waved back, and he drove off and out of town. I took a deep breath and hoped that he would get home safe. I also wished I gave him my phone number.

I smiled at myself and got back in the car to pick up my dry cleaning and head back home. I couldn't stop thinking about the short-lived afternoon I spent with Gilbert. After the lovely lunch I had with him, I wondered if I would ever see that handsome stranger again.

Chapter 12: Pirates of the Caribbean: Animal Whisperer

Chapter Text

Annette's POV

We had a soft yet favorable wind that pushed the Black Pearl toward our next destination. I stood along the taffrail of the ship, soaking in the feeling of the wind pushing my golden brown hair back, and the sun kissing my sunburnt cheeks. The salty air made my hair a little sticky, along with the fact that I haven't been able to have a proper wash in a while. None of that really mattered when you are following Captain Jack Sparrow where there is one adventure after the next.

Jack had gone into his cabin, so the crew and I were a little lazy with our duties. The bright sun was beating on us, and I found myself squinting at the bright reflection on the sea. I reached for my hat but found that it wasn't on top of my head anymore. I looked around and saw that it was sitting on top of the helm, where Cotton was steering.

Cotton is mute, so he makes for a fine listener. It is easy to talk his ear off, but I'm not that comfortable with my English skills yet. I grew up on a strictly French speaking ship, captained by my fearsome father, Olivier Levasseur. I didn't know it at the time, but getting abandoned in Port Royal and kidnapped by Jack Sparrow was one of the best things that ever happened to me.

Cotton smiled at me softly as I walked up the stairs to grab my hat. I brushed some imaginary dirt off the top and right before I set it on top of my head, the ship must have hit a reef. It jerked, and I was launched off the ship.

I let out a yelp as I let go of my hat and I stiffened my body. I used my air sense to see that I was heading straight to the water. I raised my hands above my head before I dove in, and felt the cold water rush over my body.

I swam up to the surface and used my hand to wipe the salt water from my eyes. I looked toward the drifting Black Pearl and waved my arm in hopes that someone would see me.

"Hello?!" I called out. I wasn't quite sure how to call out for my crew in English to let them know that I fell overboard. "Hello!"

The Pearl kept sailing away without me. I kicked my legs to begin swimming toward it, but I couldn't swim faster than the ship. I stopped to yell at them again to avoid getting a mouthful of saltwater.

I waved my arm again when I saw a head poke out over the taffrail, and I saw them point to me. Their face was too dark for me to see who it was. He retreated and then more heads leaned out over the railing to look at me bobbing up and down in the waves.

I heard Jack's voice over the sounds of the water bellow, "drop anchor!"

The massive anchor was dropped into the water, which halted the ship from moving anymore. Jack came up to the back of the ship, and he looked down at me. I would recognize that hair anywhere.

He called out with exaggerated hand movements, "come on up, Annie!"

I took a few breathes before I began my swim back to the Pearl. I am a very strong swimmer, but the waves were fighting against me, which was making me very tired. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw a fin pop out of the water. I froze in fear, and I looked up at Jack.

"Jack! What was that?!" I shouted up at him. I tried not to kick my legs aggressively and attract any attention to myself for whatever was swimming below me.

"Swim!" Jack shouted, "come on, come on!"

I felt my heart beat a little harder and my instinct to survive and adrenaline paired together perfectly which gave me enough energy to keep trying to swim. The Pearl may have been stuck in place, but the currant was working against me so it felt so much further.

More fins rose above the water and began swimming in circles around me. My breath quickened and I prepared to get bit in the leg and get dragged down to the bottom of the ocean. I just hoped that I would drown before I was ripped apart by their razor sharp teeth.

"Oi!" Jack shouted. I stopped trying to swim and I looked up at him and he continued, "those aren't sharks!"

It was hard for me to believe that it wasn't sharks that were swimming around me. I looked around at the grey fins and asked, "what are they?"

I let out a startled gasp when one of the animals jumped out of the water in a majestic arc and he dove back into the water.

Jack shouted, "dolphins!"

Knowing that it was dolphins that surrounded me made me feel a lot less anxious. I was able to take a breath, but all my energy dwindled. I found it incredibly difficult to keep swimming to the ship. I felt like I was not getting any closer.

Jack whistled, and four or five dolphins rose to the surface. I looked around at the beautiful animals around me, and couldn't believe how close I was to them. My attention was brought back up to Jack when he pointed to one of the dolphins and shouted, "oi! You there... no, not you, CJ... that one. Yes, you." Jack then made a circle gesture with his hand and then I saw him pat his leg.

"Huh?" I grunted to myself. I had no clue what he was doing. I also noticed Mr. Gibbs with a hilarious expression on his face, telling me that he also had no clue what our unorthodox captain was doing. Jack turned around to tell him something, just as one of the dolphins swam up beside me.

"Bonjour," I said to him cautiously, and pat his head gently. He clicked at me which made me retreat my hand back.

"Grab his fin!" Jack instructed.

I was a little confused, but I complied. As soon as I had a tight hold on the slippery fin, the dolphin began racing up to the ship. I pulled myself closer to the dolphin as I laid on its back until I got to the ship in a matter of seconds.

I gripped the rope rigging, and the dolphin clicked at me before it swam away. I climbed the rigging and got back to the deck. I took off my soggy black coat and Gibbs came up to me with a blanket and draped it over my shoulders to help dry me off.

"Are you all right, Annette?" Gibbs asked.

I used a dry part of the blanket to get the water off my face and I said, "I am fine." I walked up the stairs and I came up behind Jack to ask, "how did you do that?"

"Do what?" He asked in a high pitched voice.

The dolphins began whistling and clicking, which made us all lean over the railing to see the pod of them out in the water. In a synchronized fashion, they all dove their noses into the water and put their tails in the air and began waving their fins at him.

Jack blushed and gave them a floppy wave back. The dolphins dove back into the water, and swam away as quick as they came.

We were all dumbfounded by the interaction. My jaw slacked as I looked at Jack, who was watching them all swim off.

He noticed that I was staring and his eyebrows came together and he asked, "what?"

"You named them?" I asked.

"Everything deserves a name, don't they?"

"What are their names?"

"There was CJ, Jackie, Sparrow, Captain, and Brig."

"What does CJ mean?" I asked.

"Captain Jack," he answered, like it was obvious.

"Very original," I said sarcastically.

I would have guessed that Jack had made those names up on the spot, but because of the trick he had the dolphin perform, something told me that he must have recognized and trained those dolphins at some point. This just added to the ongoing mystery of Captain Jack Sparrow.

Jack awkwardly noticed all of us looking at him with the same expression and he stuck his nose up in the air and announced, "what? Have you never seen dolphins before? Weigh anchor! I want movement, push on!"

Chapter 13: Pirates of the Caribbean: Jack and the Mermaid

Chapter Text

Narrator's POV

The full moon was approaching the top of the velvet sky as Captain Jack Sparrow was bouncing down the lava rock, trying desperately not to trip on the dark and uneven holes.

The Kingdom of O'ahu was home to many rumors, legends, and myths. One of which, occurs at the Mermaid Caves. They say that mermaids swim in the caves at the full moon.

The cavernous setting with holes of varying sizes is half-submerged along the west shores of the island and looks out into the deep blue of the Pacific Ocean. The calming and enchanting ambiance is magically transportive. Not even Jack could resist from getting bewitched by the crystal clear water rushing towards the shell-spattered shore and moon rays streaming through the cave's crevices, painting a blue hue on the dim cavern.

Jack was careful not to fall through the holes of the mermaid caves prematurely. There was one entrance where he could get into the cave for his meeting with Kaia, the mermaid who guards the island.

Jack sat on the rocky shore inside the cave, fiddling with his thumbs as the waves rose up to his boots. The water was clear and calm, and the only noise in the cave was the sound of the soft waves on the shore. Jack looked up when he saw the full moon shining directly overhead, which meant that it was time for his meeting.

"Jack," he heard echo throughout the cave. Jack's eyes darted from one end of the cave to the other until he saw Kaia's head poke out of the water.

He had been coming to these islands for a few years, and he met Kaia when she had ordered her fellow mermaids to attack him and his crew. He settled a deal with her to allow him to peacefully explore the islands, and she would not sink his ships. Once every few months, at the full moon, Jack meets with Kaia at the Mermaid Caves to pay his debt.

"Kaia," Jack greeted with a toothy grin.

Kaia pulled herself up to the shore, letting the waves assist her in sitting up beside Jack on the small and rocky shore. The hole above them allowed the bright moon to lit up her dark skin, and made her brown eyes dance. Her dark hair was wet and cascaded down her back in waves, with sections pulled in front of her narrow shoulders which covered her breasts. She had a long, shimmering blue tail that always amazed Jack. She was the only mermaid he wasn't afraid of. She smiled at him with a flirtatious grin, and she always looked forward to their meetings.

"I got this for you," she said in her enchanting and strong voice. She was a siren, after all. She put her hands up and put a lei over Jack's neck, and admired the beautiful traditional flower necklace on him.

"It's always good to see you, love. It's been a long time," Jack said. He is not much of a flower person, but he is one to respect another's culture and he knows the importance behind a lei so he wore it proudly.

"Not long enough," Kaia said jokingly. She has known Jack for years and knows all his antics, and they had a playful relationship. However, Jack knew that Kaia could end his life at any moment, so he knew his place. She may be beautiful, but she is one of the most dangerous creatures in the ocean.

"I want—"

"Where is your payment?" She asked alluringly. She already knew what Jack wanted, and she respected him enough to let him have it. Only if he gave her something in return.

"What? Oh," Jack said and reached into his pocket to pull out a fish bone comb and gold coins for her.

Kaia is incredibly vain, so she enjoys grooming herself. A comb made from the bones of a fish are Kaia's favorite present, because Jack already gifted her a mirror. Kaia loves shiny objects and the flash of a bright gold coin, because it reminds her of the way fish scales glean when hit just right by the sunlight.

"Payment is fair," she said as she leaned toward the water to see her reflection. Jack watched her in a daze as she combed her beautiful dark hair.

"We've become great business partners, haven't we?" Jack asked, trying not to fall for her. He is well aware of the tales of mermaids around the world, and he has been extra cautious of them ever since he had to help capture one with Blackbeard at Whitecap Bay.

"I suppose so," Kaia said while still admiring herself in the reflection. Her voice rang like bells in Jack's brain, and he tried to think of other things to distract him... his mother's shrunken head... eunuchs... Barbossa... that monkey...

"I was hoping you could get another something or other for me," he said.

Kaia froze before turning her head to Jack and asked, "what is it?"

"Pearls," Jack said.

"May I ask why you inquire for such delicacies?" She asked him, bringing her hand up to her pearl necklace. Pearls are popular among mermaids, so she wasn't going to want to give them up so easily.

"Let's just say I've got a debt to square with a certain oyster," Jack said vaguely.

"What do you have for me in return?" She asked.

"Ah." Jack held up a finger to her before he reached behind his back and pulled out a harp.

Kaia could not help the look of amazement that waved across her face. She tried to remain composed, but she adored music. The most pleasing sound to her is the enchanting thump of a harp. She carefully took off her pearl necklace and traded it for the harp.

"Are we square then?" Jack asked as he carefully stood up to avoid hitting his head on the sharp lava rock that surrounded him.

"Oh, yes," Kaia said as she strummed the harp softly. The sound was gently beautiful and elegant, and echoed throughout the cave enchantingly. She gazed at Jack as her delicate fingers barely touched the strings and said, "until next time, Jack."

Jack tipped his hat to her. "I'll be right here."

Jack walked to the hole that he got down to the cave from, and positioned his hands to pull himself out. He looked back at the water one last time, and saw that Kaia was already gone. She had silently swam away with her new possession. Jack jumped and pulled himself out of the hole, and began walking along the lava rock to get back to his crew. He slipped the pearl necklace into his pocket, and stopped when he heard singing.

Kaia had perched herself on her favorite resting rock, hidden from view. She placed her new harp on her tail and began strumming it softly, and soon paired it with her sweet and clear singing voice which would have entranced any sailor.

Jack smiled softly as he walked further and further away from the mermaid. Strong enough not to fall into her captivating trap, he managed to get away from her irresistible and intoxicating voice. He always had to be extremely careful when being near Kaia, because he is no match for her spellbinding nature. Despite this, he always looked forward to their meetings.

Chapter 14: Finding Neverland: Wendy and her Dog

Chapter Text

Wendy's POV
1903

I held a black leash delicately in my hands as I was walking my St. Bernard, Nana, around the Kensington Gardens at the heart of London. It was a beautiful, sunny afternoon. My modest blue dress had long sleeves, which I was used to wearing, even in the heat. I began to wish I brought my umbrella to protect my porcelain skin from the vicious sun rays, but my hands were already busy walking the dog. Although, I did bring a matching blue wide brimmed hat that had flowers on it.

Suddenly, Nana barked a couple times before she took off, slipping her leash through my fingers.

"Bugger! Nana!" I shouted and lifted up my skirt and raced after her. My tight corset made it difficult to breathe, but I still ran as fast as I could. She was chasing something, and I had to hold my hat on my head so it wouldn't fly off. I accidentally pushed it over my eyes for just a moment before I looked up and saw that a man was walking in my path, looking down at his notepad.

I tried to stop but it was too late. I ran into him and tackled him to the grass. We fell into a pile of gasps and grunts.

"What the devil?" He asked. I was incredibly embarrassed because the man was very attractive, but my priority was to get my dog who was running amok around the gardens.

"I'm terribly sorry, but my dog is running away!" I said and pointed at Nana who was still running amuck around the field.

The man stood up and offered to help me to my feet. I took his hands and looked up at him as I stood up, and he smiled down at me. His skin was light and smooth, with brown eyes that danced. I could stare into them for hours. Then he broke our tension when he pointed at Nana and asked, "is that your dog?"

"What? Oh my, yes," I stammered.

The man started running toward Nana as Nana was racing by. I looked down and saw the man's notepad on the grass, so I grabbed it then I ran to catch up to him. He managed to get Nana between his arms and stopped her from running.

We were both out of breath, and I grabbed the black leash again. I got Nana to sit as she panted and I scolded her before I turned to the man and apologized. "I'm dreadfully sorry, sir. I've never done anything like this before, I swear it. Nana is usually very well behaved."

He chuckled softly, "it's all right." He had a Scottish accent.

I glanced down at his notepad before I handed it to him. I noticed words such as "Peter Pan; Captain Hook; Lost Boys; Michael and John and sister; child; adventure."

"Thank you. I thought I lost this," he said. He offered me his hand and said, "I'm James Matthew Barrie."

I took his hand and shook it softly. Are we saying our full names? I introduced, "my name's Wendy Moira Angela Darling."

"Beautiful name," he said with a voice that made me swoon, "long, but beautiful."

I smiled. "Thank you. But Wendy is enough."

"You can call me James."

"Wait, James Matthew... are you J.M. Barrie?" I asked.

He chuckled softly, "indeed I am."

"You wroteLittle Mary, didn't you?" I couldn't help but smile. He is well-known around here as being a playwright. I've been a fan of his work for a while and I have gone to many of his plays, but I never knew what he looked like until now. He has such a brilliant mind.

"Yes, I did," he said. He lifted up the notepad he was writing on and said, "I'm working on another one now."

"May I inquire what it is about?" I asked. I remembered the words that I read, and I could not figure out a common denominator between all the words that would make a play.

He said, "I will let you know when I figure that out. I've got a few of the characters so far though."

"Perhaps I could be of some assistance," I offered.

He raised his dark eyebrows at me and asked, "really?"

"Absolutely," I said, my smile never left my face.

"All right... There is a boy, a stubborn little boy, who I believe has grown up far too fast. I want him to watch the play and realize that he is still a child and should act as such. I want this play to bring out the child in everyone, and inspire imagination."

"That reminds me of Neverland," I let escape my lips and then chuckled at the memory.

"What was that?" James asked.

"Oh, when I was a child, I got dreadfully sick. It almost put me in my grave. My parents told me about how I would be going to Neverland come morning. It's a wonderful place."

"Where is it?" He asked, sounding genuinely interested. I thought he was going to blow me off and tell me that it was a ridiculous and impossible tale.

"It's an island where my parents told me my brother went when he died. A place where there were pirates, mermaids, fairies, and no illness. It was a place where you could live forever. It's silly, I know."

"I don't believe it's silly," he said gently. He began scribbling down in his notebook and asked, "how does one get there?"

"My mother would point up at the starry night sky and say, 'it's in the second star to the right, and straight on till morning', but that's because they thought I would have been dead come sunrise. She said that the island would be looking for me, and I would meet my brother again. Of course, this was many years ago."

"What's your brothers name?" He asked.

"His name was John," I said.

"That's funny, one of the characters I'm working on is named John. Would it be all right if I used your name?"

"My name?" I asked.

"Yes, I also really enjoy your... what's it called... Never Never Land?"

"We just called it Neverland," I said.

"Right. May I?"

"Of course!" I was just excited that a famous playwright wanted my idea. Then I asked, "what on earth are you writing about?"

"I've just started, but I think it'll be an adventurous tale of a boy who refuses to grow up, living in Neverland. He will bring ordinary siblings, John, Michael, and Wendy with him on his adventures. They'll fly with the fairies, swim with the mermaids, and fight the pirates of the island."

"That sounds like a brilliant play!" I said. I was absolutely flabbergasted that a character would be based off me for a play.

Nana began barking again and tried to run. Luckily, my grip on the leash was so tight, she didn't run off. However, she ran around me and James and pulled our legs together.

Pressed against James's chest he looked down at me with a chuckle and said, "pardon me."

"I'm so sorry, sir," I said and put my hand on James's chest as I looked around for Nana to get her to stop moving.

We laughed a bit but then Nana jerked us and we lost our balance and I fell on top of James in the grass.

"Sir, I'm so sorry," I stammered, laying on top of him. I was so embarrassed, I didn't know what to do.

"It's all right," he chuckled and rested his head down on the grass.

I took a moment to admire his handsome features while I was laying on his chest. It wasn't until Nana let out a startling bark did I push myself up and help James to his feet.

I tapped Nana's back and got her to sit. I wrapped the leash around my hand and turned to James who was brushing grass off his nice suit. I said, "again, I am so very sorry. I'll pay to have your suit cleaned."

"You mustn't worry, darling, this suit has been through so much more." He smiled and put his notepad in his pocket.

"I have some errands to run, so I must be going," I said.

"When will I see you again?" He asked.

"Will you be here tomorrow?" I asked.

He smiled. "Indeed, I will."

"Then I'll see you tomorrow," I said.

"I'll be here," he said. Then he looked down at Nana and squatted beside her and put his hand out jokingly.

Nana lifted her paw to James and he shook her paw. "Smart lass," he said as he stood up. Then he put his hand out for me, which I gave him. He brought my knuckles to his soft lips and gave them a kiss. He said, "until we meet again."

"Good luck on your play, James. I'll buy the first ticket," I promised.

He smiled at me before I walked off. I kept looking back at him, and I couldn't help but blush. I took a deep breath and continued to walk forward, and I was excited to see James the next day.

Chapter 15: Pirates of the Caribbean: See You Again

Chapter Text

Zarina 's POV

I entered the tavern, and my eyes scanned the drunk patrons who were stumbling around the room, carelessly drinking rum and beer and drowning their livers. I was looking for a clean place to sit. Well, not clean... but as clean as it can be in a tavern.

I had recently been pirating around the Caribbean after a cushy life in England. It wasn't the life for me, so I joined the crew of the Jolly Roger and set sail at first light. I have a heart that will never be tamed, which made the entrancing sea call my name. A pirates life is the life for me.

I made a friend upon my travels, so he came up to me and we decided to sit down at a table. He was the first-mate of the Jolly Roger, James. He has very long and dark hair that he keeps pulled back out of his face. He got up to get us some drinks, and soon another pirate took his spot.

I looked towards him in confusion and I reached for my dagger to threaten him away from me, but my hand was shaking because I couldn't bring myself to do it. This pirate had raven locks that was longer than mine, with black facial hair and very tanned skin. A handsome man, with dark dancing eyes.

"Evening, mind if I sit here?" He asked but then waved me off. "I'm going to anyway."

"Don't let me friend see you," I said and nodded toward James who was at the bar waiting for our drinks.

"Huh," the man grunted. He leaned his elbows on the table surface and asked me, "who are you?"

"I'm Zarina," I said.

"Zarina," he repeated in his cockney accent. My lips twitched into a smile. I knew he was something special when he spoke my name.

"Who are you?" I asked. His response was a simple chuckle so I asked, "what?"

"You really don't know?" He asked, sounding a little offended.

"I really don't," I promised.

He rolled his eyes and lowered his voice, "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

His eyes met mine, and I barely heard what he said. All I saw was his lips move, because I was so entranced by him. I felt a deep connection to him when he looked into my eyes. I believe I have a sixth sense for knowing when something is right, and my radar was dinging at Jack, as if I must have known him in another life.

"How about you and me shag in my ship?" He asked.

I've never been asked something so foul. I suddenly got flustered, because that is no way to talk to a lady. I stammered and stumbled over my words, trying to find the right ones. I started looking down so I didn't have to look at him and feel unsettled again.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked, leaning down and looking up at me through his dark lashes.

"I—uh... well, that-that's quite a question." I felt like I was wearing a corset, I couldn't breathe.

"What's wrong with you?" He asked and he straightened up. When my friend James came back with our tankards of booze, Jack asked him, "what's wrong with her?"

James paused to look at me, and he said, "oh, she's just being Zarina."

"Right," Jack chuckled. "Well—" he slapped his hands on the table and he stood up "—I'm off."

"So soon?" James asked and set the tankards on the table.

"I'm afraid so." Jack turned to me and asked, "will you still be in town tomorrow night?"

I am not a mind reader, but I could easily see the signs that Jack wanted to see me again. I had this crazy feeling deep inside in the pit of my stomach. He waited for my response, but I couldn't get the words out so I awkwardly nodded and coughed.

"Zarina," he said with a tip of his hat and a slight bow. Then he turned to James and shoved his hat back on his head and straightened up before he said, "Zarina's friend."

"Bye, Jack," I mumbled to him.

Jack spun around and confidently swaggered out of the tavern, and I set my head down on the table. I usually don't get embarrassed, but I certainly was after that terribly awkward encounter.

"That was horrible," I whined.

"That's the way you felt. But I was watching it all, and it was worse," James said.

"That did not make me feel better," I grumbled.

"What the bloody hell was that? I've never seen you freeze up like that before," James said as he took Jack's spot at the table. He slid one of the tankards in my direction and began gulping his own.

"I have no idea," I sighed and propped my head up. "I've never done that before."

I looked out the broken window and saw Jack walking swiftly down the street, toward the docks. I hoped that he would keep his promise and come back tomorrow night. I had my sights set on him, and I was ready to aim. The next time I see him, I will redeem myself. My heart, it can't rest until then.

I can't wait to see him again.

Chapter 16: Pirates of the Caribbean: Sign Language

Chapter Text

Narrator's POV

Holly had lived in Cornwall, England her entire life. She has never left England, but she has always wanted to explore the world. She was briefly sent to London when she attended a school for the deaf. She had contracted a bacterial meningitis when she was a child, which left her completely deaf before the age of four.

This special school taught her sign language so she could communicate with her hearing friends and family. Even though her parents were advised to not allow her to sign because it would prevent her from learning how to lip read and to speak, they were supportive in their daughter's decision to use sign language. She preferred not to speak if she couldn't hear what she was saying, and lip reading was very difficult. However, after being deaf for almost two decades, she has been forced to learn how to lip read.

When she graduated and came back home, she taught her family some signs to help them communicate with her. She eventually made a life for herself and moved out, and got a cleaning job at a local tavern. She has worked there for years, and she also bartends.

She is usually at The Hammer Tavern a few hours before they open so she can clean from the rambunctious group of the night before. There is always broken glass, spilled alcohol, and sometimes she finds people still passed out.

All the regulars know who she is and they are always cheerful and friendly towards her. Everyone who meets her finds her lovely, friendly, funny, and kind. Many of them have picked up on certain signs to talk with her, and a lot of the time she will teach them when she is off work. She loves teaching others signs, and appreciates the effort that they take to talk to her by learning a new language.

As Holly was sweeping up the floor with a broom and created a pile of broken glass in the corner, she was humming to herself softly. She likes the vibrations that music makes in the air, and on surfaces. She loves to feel the music. She had to kick the skirt of her navy blue dress so she didn't step on it, and her stay was tight so it was difficult for her to bend down.

Holly found a passed out man who was still there from the night before, and she patted the stiff bristles of the broom on his face until he stirred awake. She saw him mouth her name, along with, "do forgive me." He tipped his hat, and left the unlocked tavern.

She was distracted by cleaning under a table, so she didn't notice that the door opened again. A pirate that she had not known, Captain Jack Sparrow, came through the door. He stumbled in and swayed in place as he asked, "oi! Open, are you?"

Holly didn't answer because she was unaware that he was there. Jack had never been to that tavern before, so he did not know that Holly was deaf. He admired her silhouette, until he realized that she had not given him any acknowledgement. Jack could hear her humming so he furrowed his eyebrows together and he yelled at her, "oi, I've got a few pieces of silver in exchange for a bottle."

Still after no answer, he walked up behind her and stood there for a moment as he debated what he should do. His hand hovered over her shoulder, but then he screamed at her instead.

Holly couldn't hear him, but she could feel him. She could feel the vibrations from his scream, but he tapped her shoulder before she could turn around. Confused, she turned to face him and he smiled at her drunkenly. "I want a drink."

Holly had been in situations like this far too frequently. Usually the patrons of the tavern know that she cannot hear and either tap her shoulder to get her attention and some have learned to sign common words and phrases to her. Holly did not recognize this pirate with raven locks, and knew that he would not know about her deafness. Holly tapped near her ear and then by her lips with two fingers to try to tell him that she cannot hear what he was saying.

"I... want... a... drink.... please," Jack said loudly and slowly. He did not understand, and was a little too intoxicated to figure it out.

Holly refrained from rolling her eyes and propped the broom up against a table before she walked behind the bar. She grabbed an individual slate of black-board and white chalk with a dirty rag that the owner keeps back there to help with communication between her and the customers. Jack stared at her in confusion as she jotted down what she wanted to tell him in English. She passed the slate to him and he snatched it from her hands.

"I... am... deaf... oh," he read out loud. She nodded and he said, "I apologize. I mean... bugger."

She chuckled softly and she handed him the chalk and the rag. He wiped the slate clean and he wrote down what he wanted to say to her. At the end, he asked for a drink.

Holly shook her head and pretended to open an imaginary coat and pulled out an imaginary pocket watch to humorously tell Jack that it was too early and the tavern wasn't open yet. She had gotten very good at using body language to get her thoughts across, usually playing around and making others laugh at her jokes.

Jack understood and he wrote, "give it to me anyway. I won't tell."

Holly chuckled and turned around to grab him a bottle of whatever she could get her hands on. As she was turned around, Jack wanted to test her deafness. He fiercely clapped beside her head, and she noticed his hands by her head when she turned back around to him. Jack immediately retreated his hands back to his lap and pretended to be studying his hat.

Holly glared at Jack and dropped the bottle to the counter with a thud which startled Jack. She signed, "what are you doing?"

When Jack tilted his head to her in confusion, she remembered that he doesn't know any sign language. She snapped her fingers and extended her hand out, and Jack handed her the slate and the chalk. She used the rag to clean the slate, and then she wrote down what she previously signed.

"What are you doing?" She wrote and handed it back to Jack.

He read it and then wiped the slate and took the chalk and wrote his answer down in elegant handwriting, "can you hear anything?"

Holly shook her head with a gentle smile. She found Jack to be handsome, even if he was getting on her nerves during this first impression. However, she could sense that he was trying and that's all she could ever ask for.

Jack tapped the chalk against his lip before an idea popped in his head. If she was deaf, she would have no trouble being in charge of his cannons on the Black Pearl. He has lost many men due to complaints of the cannons being too loud, but she would be ideal because she cannot hear anything. He wrote, "have you any experience on a ship?"

Holly read his question and shook her head again. She couldn't predict what was going through that muddy mind of his, but figured that he was going to tell her.

He wrote vigorously on the slate,"no matter. How do you feel about joining me crew? You can be in charge of the cannons, because you cannot hear anyway."

Holly snickered in disbelief after reading his statement. She was was almost offended, but realized that he was right. She has always wanted to explore and sail across the sea. Managing the cannons was the perfect job for her. Holly slid the bottle of rum to Jack and he flicked a silver piece at her. She caught it in the air and admired it between her fingers. She tucked the silver piece into her pocket rather than putting it in the till, and Jack's eyebrows raised and he laughed as she smiled up at him.

"You're well on your way to becoming a pirate already. Let's go," he wrote.

Holly walked around the bar counter and met Jack on the other side. He waited for her and they walked out together, grabbing the slate and chalk and rag. Jack jotted something down on the slate and handed it to her. It said, "you will have to teach me this language of signs because writing and reading on this isn't going to cut it on me ship. Savvy?"

Holly chuckled and nodded in agreement. She stepped in front of Jack to get him to stop walking. The sun was slowly making the port hotter, so they were both squinting under the bright sky. He teetered on his toes as he halted and hunched his eyebrows over his eyes. Holly quickly wrote the alphabet on the slate and taught it to Jack in sign language. He caught on very quickly, and she even taught him how to say, "hello, my name is Jack," in sign language.

"Hello, my name is Jack," he signed. Holly smiled at Jack, incredibly proud that this stranger was so interested in wanting to get to know her.

"Hello, my name is Holly," she signed to him.

"Holly," Jack repeated with a soft smile. She was over the moon, elated that she would soon have someone she can actively talk to. "Beautiful name," he signed through finger spelling.

Holly taught him the signs for that compliment, before signing to him, "thank you."

Holly spent the rest of the walk to the Black Pearl ship by teaching Jack more signs. He picked up the signs very quickly, and he was just excited to have a woman on his ship while Holly was looking forward to her new life as a pirate.

Chapter 17: Sweeney Todd: Partners

Chapter Text

Narrator's POV
Y/h/c: your hair color
Y/l/n: your last name

Y/n has lived on Fleet Street for years. She became completely smitten when she saw that a handsome barber was moving in above Mrs. Lovett's Pie Shop. He introduced himself as Sweeney Todd, and he became close with both Mrs. Lovett and y/n.

Sweeney becomes quite distracted whenever y/n comes into his barbershop. He wanted his face in her y/h/c hair, to sweep her off her feet and take her far away from the land of the devil that was Fleet Street. Y/n made Sweeney almost forget about his estranged daughter, Johanna, and his deceased wife. He knew that she worked with Mrs. Lovett down at the meat shop, but was blissfully unaware of what the meat pies were truly made of. He wished to keep her innocent to his unholy ways.

Sweeney was shaving a man in his chair, slowly gliding the razor up his neck and wiping the white shaving cream off the blade with a rag. He imagined the man to be Judge Turpin, the man who singlehandedly tore apart his family. Sweeney had no regard that the man in his chair was actually an innocent butcher who has done nothing to Sweeney.

Just as Sweeney was positioning his blade to the man's neck, ready for the kill, his door opened. He quickly removed the blade from his flesh and looked toward the door. His heart beat faster when he saw that it was y/n, and he felt his mouth run dry. No woman has ever made Sweeney feel flustered like this before, not even his wife.

"Mrs. Lovett wants to know when you'll be down for dinner," y/n said in her voice that sounded like sweet honey to Sweeney.

He replied in a restrained voice, "I'll be down in a minute, Miss Y/l/n."

Sweeney fought the tremendous urge to kill the man in his chair in front of y/n. He did not want to frighten her, but as a sexual sadist, it was hard. He was nearly shaking, which rose concern for y/n, but Sweeney implored that she should leave. Y/n saw a look in his eyes that she has never seen before, but it excited her.

The man looked over at y/n and visibly looked her up and down. He snickered and asked, "how much for you, wench?"

Y/n was confused and offended. She looked down at her black dress of thick fabrics and lace, and did not believe that she put on enough makeup to be believed to be a prostitute. This frustrated both her and Sweeney, who glared at the man who was unaware of the psychopaths he was surrounded by.

"I am not for sale, scum," y/n snapped. She glanced down at the vanity against the wall and saw Sweeney's collection of razors glistening under the light.

"Aye, she's not for sale," Sweeney reiterated, and gripped his razor tighter in his hand.

The man continued to flirt with her, "I should have known. You are far too fetching. Perhaps I can take you home and show you how a real man gets it up."

Y/n could not handle her anger toward the stranger anymore. In a split second, she grabbed one of the razors and flicked it open. Without thinking, she slashed it toward the man, making a deep cut in his neck.

Seeing this ignited the flame in Sweeney's eyes and he finished the job by slicing completely through the gurgling man's throat. Sweeney looked toward y/n and saw a fire burning behind her eyes that entranced him completely. A sexual sadist himself, killing with her got him off in a way that has never happened before. His previous thoughts of keeping her innocent was completely washed away, and wanted to see her kill again.

Sweeney couldn't bring himself to stop looking adoringly at y/n, even as he stepped on the pedal which sent the corpse down to the basement. When he stepped off the pedal, the floor closed and the chair sat upright again. The two psychopaths were completely covered in blood, and y/n started smiling like a maniac.

"That was exhilarating!" She exclaimed. She ran her hands through her y/h/c hair, getting strands stuck to her hands from the sticky blood that coated them. She looked at Sweeney and thought he looked so much more attractive covered in the blood of another man.

Sweeney walked up to y/n and said, "you did well, darling. I've been trying to give up killing, but it's hard... so very hard. There's something about the way you slid my razor across his throat..." he brought his hand up to her hair and tucked a few strands behind her ear. He wanted so desperately to kiss her.

"Why do you kill, Mr. Todd?" She asked.

"Call me Sweeney, darling. 'Cause there's a hole in the world like a great black pit that is filled with people who are filled with shit, and the vermin of the world. But not for long, because I want to kill them all. I want you to partner with me, and we can take care of the world of the vermin and people who deserve to die."

Y/n looked up at Sweeney's dark and mysterious eyes and grinned. "I had never killed anyone before... but I want to do it again."

Sweeney took out a clean handkerchief from his pocket and softly wiped the blood from y/n's face. He smiled down at her proudly. He said, "and you shall, darling. We shall clean the streets of England together. But next time, say my name as you do that."

Sweeney took out his favorite razor and looked at his reflection in the blade. When he looked past it, he saw y/n's angelic face, and he put the razor down. To express his love for y/n, he closed the razor and put in in her hand and closed her fist around it.

"But, Sweeney, your razor—"

"It's yours now," he said, keeping his hands sandwiched between hers. He found her hands to be soft and supple, and wished to never let go. He felt his package announcing its arrival, and he lowered his hands in hopes that y/n would follow with her eyes. He knew that she saw when she blushed and looked straight back up at him.

"Sweeney—" she began, about to offer to relieve him.

Sweeney stopped her and said, "not yet, love. Bring us our next bleeder. I want to ride this high."

Y/n's lips twitched into a grin as she ran out of the barbershop and down the stairs. She was begging men to come up for a shave, because she knows the prize she will receive afterwards.

Chapter 18: Pirates of the Caribbean: Happy Pride Month!

Chapter Text

Y/n 's POV

I was scrubbing the deck with the rest of the crew of the Black Pearl when our captain, Jack Sparrow, called me over to him by the helm. I dropped my brush and brushed my wet palms against my dark pants to dry them off. I've been on the Pearl for a couple of years now, and I've sailed under Jack for all of them. We were about as close as a woman pirate can be with her captain, but I always trusted him with my life.

I walked up the helm and asked, "captain?"

Jack turned his head to me, which made his raven locks sway with the ocean breeze. He said, "I've got a proposition for you. I received wind of a treasure out yonder... but me mate won't give me the map that will lead to said treasure."

"What are you going to do?" I asked. I tilted my leather tricorne hat up and crossed my arms over my chest.

"Me mate is a desperate man and he requests a shag... now, I can't do that for... reasons. That's where you come in, dearie," Jack said while gesturing to me.

"I have to shag a bloke just for a map?" I asked with a sneer of my lip.

Jack smiled like it wasn't an issue. “Aye. It's your lucky day!"

"No, Jack," I told him firmly. I would rather gargle with acid than sleep with a man, no matter how big of a treasure the map led to.

Jack's face fell. “Why not? If you look past the barnacles and seafood breath... it should be quick. In and out. You can practice with me first if you'd like."

"No, Jack, that's not it..." My voice trailed off. I cleared my throat and looked around to make sure that no one was listening. "Can you keep a secret?"

"Mm-hm," he said and leaned in closer to me.

"I'm not attracted to... men," I said to him. I had never come out before to anyone, because it is very taboo and not accepted. It is punishable by death, so I've kept myself quiet about it but I've known that I'm attracted to women for years. Even though I've sailed with Jack for years and I have proven myself to him countless times that I'm a hard worker, I've never told him about my sexuality because I was afraid that he would not accept me and kick me off his Pearl. Or worse. I've always thought of us as friends, and I've put up with all his weirdness over the years that I have known him. But I'm walking on thin ice already for being a woman on a pirate ship. It's against the Pirate Code.

Jack froze before he shot back to stand up straight. He took a step to regain his balance and he looked to me with a confused look on his face and he asked, "what?"

"I'm lesbian," I said.

"I see," Jack said and he clicked his tongue. He drummed his fingers on the handle of his sword and he said, "no shame in that, dearie. I don't blame you. A woman's knees... can't get much better than that."

"You are fine with this?" I asked him, just to make sure. Sometimes he is a difficult man to read.

"I'm not offended by homosexuality. In the 1710's, I made love to many women, often outdoors in the mud and rain. It's possible a man could've slipped in there. There'd be no way of knowing," he said with a simple shrug. "Don't worry. We shall figure something else out to get that map."

"Do you mind keeping this quiet?" I asked, "I'm not ready for the entire ship to know."

Jack looked at me silently and used his fingers to make a gesture as if he was locking his lips and tossed the imaginary key over his shoulder. He held his wrist in front of his body and he said, "quiet as a clam, love."

"Thanks, Jack," I said after I let out a sigh of relief. I've never been ashamed of my sexuality. In fact, it felt amazing that someone else knew and was so accepting. I was terrified that Jack would banish me from the ship. I don't know why I was, because Jack is a very open minded and accepting man. I wish everyone was like Captain Jack.

"And I appreciate you entrusting me with this delicate information, y/n."

"Thank you for being so trusting.” I smiled at him softly. He really is a great man.

"Do you know Scarlett?" Jack asked while shifting the wheel slightly.

"The prostitute?" I asked.

Jack nodded. “She was asking about you, you know."

"She was?" I asked.

Jack said, "aye... but she's not free and I think I got scabies from her once... I'll help you find a lass who will give you a good time and won't give you anything... like scabies."

"You don't have to do that," I chuckled.

"Aye, but I will. Any wench or damsel out there would be lucky to have a bonny lass such as yourself." Then Jack nodded toward the crew and said, "get back to work. I want to see me reflection on the wood."

"Aye, aye, Cap'n," I chuckled.

I jumped down the steps and rushed back to my scrubbing spot. The rest of my pirating days were to be filled with adventures and galavanting around pirate ports, swooning with Jack over the ladies we came across together.

Chapter 19: Pirates of the Caribbean: Legend of the Aztec Gold Curse

Chapter Text

October 31, 2024

Blaire’s POV

I slowly rowed my little boat through the dark and muggy waters of the Caribbean Sea to reach Isla de Muerta, Island of the Dead.

It's Halloween Night, and I had graduated last spring with my doctorate in Myths and Legends. I've always been fascinated by curses and legends, and I was always drawn to the adventures of Captain Jack Sparrow. His most famous, was the battle at Isla de Muerta. It's an island that cannot be found, except by those who already know where it is. Luckily, I've spent my entire undergraduate and graduate years studying the location. I knew exactly where it was.

This journey to Isla de Muerta was my graduation present to myself. I also had plans to write a research paper on the Battle of Isla de Muerta, and the best way to do that was to go to where it happened. I have been so captivated by this event, I wanted to research it as much as I could. However, it occurred was so long ago that all records of it have been destroyed by time. No one knows exactly what happened except those who were there. They're all long dead now, so I cannot ask them. Of course, that is if this actually happened. Because there isn't that much documentation about the Battle of Isla de Muerta, it is labeled as a legend because of the curse. I wanted to prove that it's real.

I rowed my boat all the way into the entrance of the cave. It was thought many years ago that it was reclaimed by the sea, but that is not the case. The cave went missing centuries ago, until now.

I adventured into the cave alone. None of my friends were as excited about this as I was, and no one wanted to join in on my adventure. As soon as I entered the cave, it didn't matter. The amount of gold and treasure was overwhelming, and breathtakingly beautiful. It looked exactly the way it did when Captain Jack Sparrow was here.

The gold and treasure hasn't been touched for 300 years. 296 years to be exact, to the day. I walked around the cave, stepping around the ancient treasure as I admired it, wishing I could bring some home with me. It was absolutely incredible.

I stood under one of the holes in the cave ceiling, and I lifted my hand up to touch the moonbeam that shined down on me. I looked up and saw that the full moon was nearly overhead, which lit up the entire cave.

I took a step and slipped on a pile of gold coins. I fell to my butt with a yelp, but then the ground began to rumble. I froze, and soon the tranquil silence was replaced with the distant sounds of screaming, that were getting closer and closer. In my panic, I thought an earthquake was shaking the ancient cave so I quickly stood up and tried to run as fast as I could to the exit.

A giant shadow that was approaching the entrance made me change course. Someone was coming. I quickly hid behind a giant boulder and watched in horror as a group of 18th century pirates came into the cave.

I peered from behind the massive rock, watching the ghosts of pirates-past go through their activities as if they were still alive. I have studied these pirates meticulously for over a decade, and they began fighting before my eyes. They used swords, their clanks echoed throughout the cave and I was in complete disbelief.

A rough voice echoed throughout the cave, "are we to be two immortals locked in an epic battle until Judgment Day and trumpets sound?"

I snapped my head to the pirate, where his previous face of flesh was replaced with bone. He looked like a skeleton. I saw his hat and his facial hair and I immediately recognized him as Captain Hector Barbossa. My jaw dropped to the ground.

"Or you could surrender," said the pirate that Barbossa was fighting. Not just any pirate, but Captain Jack Sparrow. The man, the myth, the legend.

I have been studying Captain Jack Sparrow for many years. He was my favorite historical figure I've ever had the opportunity to learn about. I tried to learn everything I could about his life, but he was so private and mysterious that there are barely any surviving records about him at all, especially his early life. I have only ever seen paintings of him, and I even had the opportunity to visit a museum a few years ago that held his beloved compass, which I could see now was dangling from his belt. It was so surreal to see him in front of me.

The sword fighting commenced, and I was left stunned behind the rock. How was this possible? Was I watching the final battle between legends that occurred in 1728? I was mystified, mortified, shocked, and intrigued.

I suddenly felt a hand in my shoulder, and I looked up to see a skeleton pirate looking down at me. I screeched as I tried to fight back, but he and two others held me down and carried me out to their captains.

I was thrashing around, begging to be leg go. I was finally brought down to my knees and my head was held up and I looked straight at Jack and Barbossa. My lips quivered as I tried to figure out what to say as they stared down at me. They were both under the moon light, in their skeleton forms.

"Let me go! Let me go!" I begged, but they wouldn't budge.

"What should we do with the wench?" One of the pirates asked. I could feel each of his bony fingers against my skin, and it made me tremble.

"Who are you?" Jack asked, brandishing his sword at me. He stepped out of the moon light and he once again looked like a living man. He was a lot more attractive than I thought he was going to be.

"My name is Dr. Blaire Teach," I said. I was trying so hard not to fangirl at them. They were celebrities in my world. But right now, my life was literally in their hands.

"A woman doctor?" Barbossa scoffed, "impossible."

"Neigh, don't say that, mate," Jack scolded him. Then he turned back to me and said, "I don't think you're supposed to be here."

"I'm not," I completely agreed with him. "I was just trying to learn about this place."

"This one can tell you all about it," Jack said and pointed his sword at Barbossa who had a scowl on his face. "This bloke is the one who ignited the curse."

"What curse?" I asked. I wanted to hear it from him.

"The Curse of the Black Pearl, brought on by the Aztec Gold," Jack told me. That was the legend.

Barbossa didn't waste another second before he lashed out again at Jack. Jack blocked his blow with the blade of his sword, and I was promptly released from the clutches of the skeletons.

Jack grabbed a sword from the ground and yelled out, "Blaire, catch!"

He tossed the sword my way, and I panicked slightly before I caught the handle. I held it with two hands, feeling the weight balance between the sword and the blade. Jack asked, "have you ever fought with a sword before?"

"No!" I called back, snapping my head around to make sure no one was coming after me.

"Just swing it around until you hit something. That's what I do!" Jack said while sword fighting against Barbossa.

I turned around and fought against the other pirates, barely believing that this was actually happening to me. I was living this event that is no longer a myth or a legend, but history. This was the coolest, craziest, most amazing thing that has ever happened to me.

I saw Jack grip his blade in his palm and gave the sword a yank. He made a deep gash in his flesh and he coated his blood on one of the coins of the Aztec gold. He tossed it into a chest, and Barbossa was promptly shot. I watched Barbossa fall to the ground, and he was dead. I gasped and dropped my sword.

"You've got one hell of an arm, want to join me crew?" Jack asked as he approached me. "Those pants don't suit you, darling, it's 1728 for crying out loud. It should be a dress or nothing, and I happen to have no-dress in my cabin."

I was still in shock by the whole thing, so I could barely get the words out. I finally asked, "is this a dream?"

Jack smiled at me. “It's not a dream, darling. I'm real, you're real, that curse is real, and so is me ship."

I got up the courage to ask, "can you take me to it?"

"Right this way," Jack said. He placed his hand on the small of my back and guided me to his legendary Black Pearl.

"Holy shit," I said in a low voice when we reached the mouth of the cave. I saw the dark sky behind the massive pirate ship, and Jack had me step into one of the longboats and we rowed up to the ship.

"Aye, don't let it scare you," Jack said.

We got all the way to the belly of the ship and Jack assisted me in climbing the rope rigging to get on deck. I boarded the ship and walked around in amazement. I admired it's beautiful detailing, still in disbelief that I was standing on the legendary Black Pearl. I ran my fingers along the taffrail just to feel the smooth wood, and to ensure that I wasn’t imagining it. I said, "I've only ever seen it in books and drawings. This is incredible."

"I know," Jack beamed. "I'll be right back."

Jack swaggered off down the ship and I scoped out the crew until I saw Mr. Joshamee Gibbs. I recognized him from his famous mutton-chop beard. He is known as being Captain Jack's best mate.

"You're the modern lass, eh?" Gibbs asked me.

I was a little surprised that he knew that they were in the 21st century. From the way they all acted in the cave, they seemed to believe it is still 1728, and I wasn't going to tell them the truth. I asked, "you know?"

Gibbs nodded. “Aye, we all do. Every Hallows' Eve, on the very day of the battle, we come back and repeat the event at Isla de Muerta. We all know that we are dead. Jack hates being dead so much, this is his one night a year that he can pretend to be alive."

"That's really sad," I said.

"Aye."

"How did it happen?" I asked him. I knew he died on August 3, 1762 because I have seen his death certificate. However, his cause of death was not specified.

"I drank me-onsie to death in England," he said solemnly.

"What about Jack?" I asked. Captain Jack Sparrow's death was never recorded. I knew about his desire to reach immortality, and always hoped that he found it. However, seeing him here as a ghost, told me that he didn't.

Gibbs cleared his throat. “He went down with the Pearl in 1758. Lost to the ocean, he was. The crew and I put up a grave for him on Antigua before we were rescued and found sanctuary in England."

"And that's when you died?"

He nodded. “Aye."

I retained everything he told me and I thanked him. Jack came back and escorted me away from his crew and he gave me an elaborate tour of his entire ship. All the way from the grubby brig, all the way up to his enriched cabin. The ship was huge, and absolutely beautiful.

I talked with him all night about his adventures, thinking about changing my research paper into only focusing on Captain Jack Sparrow. I had the privilege to interview him, and I wrote down his answers on a paper scroll that he gave me from his desk. I had never written with a feather before today. I hoped that he couldn't tell how giddy I was. It would just fuel his ego.

Jack sailed me back to the cave, where my small boat was still waiting for me. He joked about how it was smaller than a dinghy, and he ordered for the anchor to come down.

I noticed that the sun was about to climb over the horizon to signify the start of a new day, but Jack offered to row me to my boat. We got down in one of the Pearls longboats and shared the burden of rowing back to the cave.

Once we got there, we stood together at the cave's entrance, and I looked back at all the gold.

Jack said, "I've got something for you." He handed me a dazzling ring that he stole from the abundance of treasure from the cave and I took it delicately. It was gold, and at least three hundred years old. Probably even older than that.

"It's beautiful," I said. Then he handed me a couple gold coins too.

"I signed this one," he pointed out proudly. I looked and indeed saw that he autographed one of the coins. I chuckled and slipped them into my pocket, and he reassured me that they weren't part of the curse.

"Thank you for being so kind, Jack," I said, "I didn't expect that from a swashbuckling pirate."

"I tend to surprise people," he chuckled.

"I'm not quite sure what I'm going to do tomorrow now."

"That’s the best part," he reassured with a smile.

"So... I'll see you next Halloween?" I asked.

"Halloween?" He asked with a tilt of his head.

"All Hallows' Eve," I corrected.

"Oh, yes, indeed," he said.

"It's going to be weird not being able to see you for another year. I just want to keep talking to you," I said.

"I have enjoyed talking to you too, love. I look forward to our next meeting. Smile, darling. It’s sunrise.” He grinned at me.

I smiled back at him, and saw the sun begin to peak over the horizon, making the Pearl look like a silhouette. I turned around for just a moment to grab my oars to pull my boat back into the water. When I turned back, Jack was gone and so was the Pearl. They vanished into thin air, and the sun greeted me by sparkling along the waves of the water.

I took a deep breath and smiled at the events of my night. I softly said, "goodbye, Jack," as I pulled my boat into the ocean and sailed off toward the mainland, preparing to come back next Halloween.

Chapter 20: Alice in Wonderland: Welcome to Wonderland

Chapter Text

Clara's POV

I was laying in bed while my caretaker, Alice, was sitting beside me with a sorrowful smile on her face. The doctor has been coming by for days now, and the looks on my parents faces told me what I was afraid of. I was not going to survive the night.

Every muscle and joint ached in my 19-year old body, as if someone had taken a hammer and hit me as hard as they could. My breathing was shallow, and whenever I tried to take a deep breath I cannot stop coughing. My complexion was pale, and my mousy brown hair was raggedy and dull.

Alice had been working for my family for years, and she would always tell me about a fantasy land called Wonderland. It was a magical place where all your troubles disappear. When I was a child, I loved hearing her stories about disappearing cats and the maddest of hatters. We talked of many things, such as sailing ships, and sealing wax, and cabbages and kings.

Alice pressed a cold washcloth against my forehead, and she tried to keep herself composed for my sake. I knew I was dying, and the doctors knew I was dying. I wish I wasn't. I was exhausted. Dying is exhausting.

"Alice?" I breathed out.

"Yes, Clara?" She asked.

I suffered a coughing fit which weakened my lungs. Once I was able to catch my breath, I asked her, "can you tell me about Wonderland again?"

"Of course," Alice said softly. We both knew it was probably my final request. I wasn’t going to wake up come morning.

She began her description of the lovely place she swears she has visited multiple times in her youth, but I've always thought it was a dream she had. I let my eyes drift closed as she told me about the Queen of Hearts and the tremendous friends she made in Wonderland. My favorite, was the Mad Hatter.

I drifted off, curious as to what awaited me past the physical world.

I felt a soft breeze on my face, and I expected to wake up to the pearly gates. I opened my eyes and found myself laying on the ground of a colorful land I've never been to before. I sat up and put my hand to my head before I realized that I did not feel weak anymore. I stood up, feeling weight on my feet that I haven't felt in weeks. I exclaimed with joy and used my newfound energy to run around the field I found myself in. I tripped over some tall grass and nearly fell in a river that ran though the land. I joyfully got up on my hands and knees and crawled closer to the water to see my reflection.

My dark brown eyes were looking back at me, dancing the way they used to before I got sick. My once lifeless face was bursting with color, and my hair was more lively than ever. I was healthy again. I felt truly alive.

I got up and brushed the dirt off my nightgown that I was still wearing. I heard someone clear their throat behind me, and I turned around to see a tall man with heavy face makeup on and a homemade top hat. His clothes were a mix of different patterns and clashing colors, and he had unruly orange hair that curled out of his hat.

The man had a look of sorrow on his face as he looked me up and down. His vibrant clothes were eye catching, and once we locked eyes, he brightened and a smile replaced his frown.

"Oh! Alice did say that you would come and you did! You did! I'm the Mad Hatter. Welcome to Wonderland," he said. His smile showed an endearing gap between his teeth that created a slight lisp in his speech.

"I'm Clara," I greeted. I recalled the Mad Hatter from Alice's stories. He was exactly how I pictured him to look.

"Clara," he repeated. He looked me up and down and asked, "have you eaten any pastries, or drunken any potions?"

I shook my head. "No, sir."

"Wonderful!" He grinned, "come, dear, follow me. I'll be your guide. I'll give you a tour of Underland. We've got it all."

He extended his hand out to me and I took it gleefully. I hooked onto his arm as we walked down a paved path. The plants and flowers that surrounded the path were blooming and bursting with color and wonderful fragrances. He held my hand as we walked under the sapphire sky.

"Do you know why you're here?" He asked in a low voice.

"I'm dead?" I asked.

His silence confirmed my suspicions. I looked down at my feet with a sniff, sad to have left my family and friends in the real world. He finally asked, "would you like to talk about it?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but a sudden lump in my throat wouldn't let me talk. I cleared my throat and felt my eyes grow moist and I managed to say while my voice broke, "no, not really."

"We will have so much fun together. If you'd like, we can go exploring, or we can just go for a walk," he suggested.

"Let's go for a walk," I said, trying not to sound sad. I really did not want to cry in front of this kind stranger.

"This way," he said and we continued to walk down the path. He was so comforting, like I've known him my whole life. It was like he was my guardian Angel, guiding me to the afterlife.

"What are the pastries and potions?" I asked him.

"They either make you grow small, or too tall," he said, "but you are the proper Clara-size."

"Alice has told me about the Queen of Hearts," I stated.

"Ah, yes," he said with a lisp, "down with the bloody red Queen."

"I imagine that she wasn't very popular," I chuckled softly.

"No, my dear, she was not. No one liked her. She lived right up there—" he pointed at a massive castle up on a hill in the distance "—in the castle. Her minions were giant playing cards that can talk. You mustn’t worry of her now."

We continued walking through the forest, passing adorable cottages between the trees until we came to a fork in the road. Hatter froze when we heard a trilling voice called out, "you-who!"

"Who goes there?" Hatter asked, glaring and turning his head around every which way to find the source of the voice.

Suddenly, a beautiful cat appeared before my eyes. He smiled wide like a human, and his striped fur looked so fluffy.

Hatter smiled and said, "Cheshire! Clara, this is the Cheshire Cat."

"Clara?" Cheshire asked in a smooth voice. "My, Alice has told us a lot about you."

"She has?" I asked.

"It's been so long, I suppose. You were just a little tyke when she last spoke of you to me," Cheshire said. "How has the worlds maddest hatter been as a guide?"

"He's been great.” I smiled up at him, and he smiled back at me which made his bow tie extend.

Suddenly, a little white rabbit came jumping out from the bushes. He held a pocket watch in his little paw, and wore a tiny waistcoat.

"White Rabbit?" I asked.

"I assume that Alice has been telling you about us too, eh?" Hatter asked.

The White Rabbit yelled, "I'm late!" and he scampered off.

I chuckled, "just a bit."

Hatter took another step before he stopped again. He darted his head between the two paths we could take and he asked, "where should we go now?"

"There's a tea party along down the road," Cheshire Cat suggested.

"Oh, yes! My tea party had been going on for years. If you make an appearance, maybe the Hare and the Dormouse will sing us a song." Hatter clapped gleefully.

"Let's go." I smiled.

We walked side by side to the tea party, and the stars were beginning to come out already. Hatter introduced me to everyone, and they sang us a song. Hatter offered to dance, and we danced underneath the stars, as if it was a dream. I hoped to laugh until morning came, and live the rest of my days here. Happy, healthy, and free.

We finally said farewell to the tea party and continued walking. Cheshire stayed with them, drinking tea and eating cake.

"Is this place real?" I asked, looking around at the beautiful land. We kept walking, and I was getting a little tired so I rested myself against his arm.

Hatter stopped walking, and he stepped in front of me. He said, "nothing around here is quite as it seems. If you are never sure if anything's real or a dream, just know that there is only one thing sure from the start, is the song that's inside of you, in there." He tapped on my chest. "Inside of your heart. Don't let it leave."

"I won't. If this really is a dream, then at least I've got my memories for when morning comes," I said to him.

"It is certainly not a dream," Hatter reassured. "But it's not your time to stay with us."

"It's not?" I asked. I cocked my head to the side to express my confusion. I felt so happy and at home here, I almost didn't want to leave.

"No.” He shook his head. He looked down at me and tucked some of my hair behind my ear with his finger that was covered by a thimble. He said, "do tell Alice I said hello."

I became overwhelmed with emotion. I tried to blink the tears out of my red eyes and I said to him in a brittle voice, "Oh, Hatter, I'm afraid that I will never be able to see you again."

Hatter looked back at me with a loving expression. His voice was low and tranquil. "My dear, Clara. In the Gardens of Memory, in the Palace of Dreams, that is where you and I shall meet."

"Dreams are not reality," I said with a slight sniff.

Hatter looked at me with a slight squint of his big green eyes and said in a slow, calm voice, "who's to say which is which?"

Hatter wrapped his heavy arms around me in a hug, and his curly hair tickled my cheek. I squeezed him back tight, and closed my eyes. I felt his hand slowly pet my hair comfortingly. Now that I must leave with a heavy heart, I hoped I'd be able to come back and see my new friends once again.

I opened my eyes and suddenly found myself looking up at Alice. A smile brushed across her face and she said, "welcome back. I thought I lost you."

I smiled at her weakly and said in a soft voice, "the Hatter says hello."

She back smiled in disbelief, and allowed me to rest.

Perhaps someday soon, I'll take a trip to the Gardens of Memory, and the Palace of Dreams. That's where he will be waiting, and I will meet Hatter once again.

Chapter 21: Pirates of the Caribbean: Witch Aboard the Black Pearl

Chapter Text

Eve Waterhouse's POV
1716

It was 1566 when I had to watch two of my granddaughters get convicted for being witches and sentenced to death. My granddaughter, Agnes, was 63 years old, but everyone thought I was her daughter. Who everyone believed to be my aunt, Elizabeth Francis, was imprisoned for her witchcraft. I was born in 1453, and I should have died decades ago. I had been walking this earth for 113 years, but my physical body has stayed at the age of 25.

My little Agnes was the first woman to be executed for witchcraft in England on 29 July 1566. She was hanged publicly in Chelmsford. She was protecting me, which sealed her doom.

My 18-year-old great-niece, Joan Waterhouse, was also accused but not convicted. However, her testimony sealed the fate of her aunt and her mother. All to protect me, the real witch.

I was taught witchcraft by my own grandmother back in 1471, when I was 18 years old. I refused to teach my family because of the danger it brings, but Elizabeth claimed I taught her at the age of 12. I did no such thing. They managed to get ahold of my white spotted cat, which I had named Satan many years ago. I tried to keep them all apart, because Satan was a gift I received with the power to speak from dark magic. He is also immortal. Them communicating with the cat was a big contributor to how they got caught for something that they had no business in doing.

When I stood at the center of town, watching my granddaughter swing from the gallows before me, I knew I had to get out of there. I wasn't safe, and I was putting my entire family in danger just by being near them. One was executed, and another was sentenced to prison.

Contrary to popular belief, I don't talk or conspire with the devil. I keep my powers hidden from others, and I've never gotten caught. I should have killed that cat when I had the chance.

I hopped the first ship I saw and sailed with a crew all the way to the Caribbean. The guilt was eating me up alive, and I wanted to be as far away from my home country of England as I could. We were only about one month into our journey when we got caught in a dreadful hurricane. The ship sunk, bringing down the entire crew with it.

I was aware of my immortality, but this was the first time I was aware of my invincibility. I stayed floating on a broken door from the shipwreck in the middle of the ocean for Lord knows how long. I even tried to end my misery once or twice, but it was no use. I couldn't figure out how to die without a silver bullet.

I was finally rescued by a rugged sailor who delivered me to his destination: Tortuga. A rowdy and dirty port for pirates and prostitutes in the Caribbean. Throughout the years, I made my way around the island, and even island hopped around the Caribbean to hide my immortality from the humans. I have been alive for 263 years, and it wasn't until 1716 that I desired to abandon life in the Caribbean and set sail for the New World. It would be much easier to keep my identity a secret over there because the land is so big and there is so much more to explore.

I asked around the taverns if anyone knew of a pirate or a sailor who was planning a trip to the New World and to see if I could join on their expedition. An unfamiliar name kept popping up: Captain Jack Sparrow. From what I gathered, he is a relatively new captain who has come to Tortuga in attempts to assemble a crew for his new ship, the Black Pearl.

I only had information that I gathered from word of mouth. However, I managed to find him drinking in a tavern one night. He had a bright red and yellow aura around his entire body, which told me that he was full of energy, passionate, creative, and ambitious, however he was also irresponsible and a little unstable.

I tapped his shoulder, and I saw a vision. I get visions of the future randomly, or even parts of the past of the individual I am touching. I saw Jack's future. I saw him sword fighting against the living dead. They were popping in and out of the moonlight, one of them was turning into a skeleton zombie, and then back to a fleshy human. They were in a massive cave, with more treasure than anyone could ever imagine. There was a lull moment, but then one of the pirates impaled a sword through Jack's chest. I thought I saw his death, until my vision shifted to Jack standing on a ship with a sword in his hand. He was covered in a disgusting slime that smelled of a thousand rotting corpses, and he was getting swallowed by the Kraken. I definitely saw his death. His future ends in Davy Jones Locker.

When I took my hand off his shoulder, the visions went away and I once again saw Jack sitting at the table. He turned to me with a mug of ale in his hand that nearly sloshed out from his movement. He was a handsome man, and looked about my age... my physical age.

I asked him, "are you Captain Jack Sparrow?"

"Depends on who is asking," he said suspiciously. He continued, "if you work for The Company, I am not. However, if you're a lady of the night... indeed I am."

"Neither," I said.

"No matter. What can I do for you, me dear?"

"Rumor has it that you are assembling a crew," I said.

"Want to join me crew, lass?" He looked me up and down.

"I'm trying to reach the New World and I've heard you can take me to it," I said.

He chuckled, "you're not a witch, are you?" I knew he was joking, so I chuckled a bit with him. He slapped the table with the palm of his hand as he stood up and said, "sure thing, love."

"Oh, brilliant. Thank you so much. I will forever be in your debt," I said and followed him out of the tavern.

He walked with the cocky swagger of a sailor who only knows how to stand on the sea. I followed him through the port and up to the docks where he showed me his ship. The Black Pearl was very large and a beautiful ship. We boarded the ship together, and he introduced me to his crew members. The only names I remembered were Bootstrap Bill, and his first-mate, Barbossa. I recognized Barbossa as the zombie pirate from my vision. His aura was black and red, which warned me that he didn't have good intensions.

Once he ordered his crew to set sail, he turned to me and asked, "what should we call you?"

"Eve," I said to him.

"Eve," he repeated, "beautiful name."

"Thank you," I said.

It wasn't until Tortuga disappeared did the crew begin to express their problem with me, a woman, being on their ship. They believed that the ship would capsize because I had joined them on their journey.

"'Tis bad luck to allow a woman on the ship, Captain," one of the crew members told Jack.

"She's no worse than that cabin boy over there," Jack said and pointed to a random lad on deck. The sun was beginning to go down and Jack asked, "can someone light those lamps before we are submerged in the darkness?" But no one listened to him.

"We will mutiny against you and appoint Barbossa as captain," someone threatened him, "unless you kill the woman and get her off the ship."

Jack looked back angrily. “No, you won't."

Suddenly, a gun was clicked and shot. I followed the bullet with my eyes, headed straight to my heart. I gasped and used my telekinesis to stop the bullet mid air. I exhaled softly and looked up to see everyone's jaw on the floor.

I was beyond pissed that someone on that ship tried to kill me, and I could see his hand shaking with fear with the gun that he fired still smoking in his hand, and he was on the other side of the ship. I looked back down at the bullet and with a flick of my wrist, I sent the bullet back the way it came, as fast as if it was shot out of a gun. I had the bullet imbed itself into the head of the pirate that shot me. I pushed my hand out and stopped him from falling to the deck. Using my hand to gesture, I used my telekinesis to fling the dead pirate off the ship, and he disappeared into the dark depths of the Atlantic Ocean.

"Witch!" Someone shouted while pointing at me.

"Jack allowed a witch onto our ship!" Another yelled.

Jack spun to me and asked, "you can do magic?"

I flicked my finger, which sent another pirate flying into the ocean. I turned to Jack and said, "I think you might want to pour yourself another drink, mate."

Another gun popped off, this time I didn't have enough time to stop it. The bullet found its home in Jack's chest. He looked down at it and pulled his shirt back to see the bullet hole in his chest. His breathing became wheezy and he fell to his knees. As he lost consciousness, he fell face first on the wooden deck, and everyone was left shocked. His white shirt was getting soaked in sticky red blood, and he became incredibly still.

"Who killed the captain?!" Someone angrily shouted.

I rushed to Jack's aid and carefully rolled his lifeless body onto his back. His eyes were half open, and his lips were parted. I sat beside his head, and saw that his aura had disappeared. The only time I don't see an aura is if the person is dead. I glared at the entire crew and used my powers to pluck every weapon from every pirate on the ship and threw them into the ocean. They yelled and scolded me, but then I snapped my fingers and took away their abilities to speak.

I brought my attention back to Jack, and I placed my hands around his scruffy cheeks that were getting colder by the second. I rubbed my thumbs slowly up and down his jaw, and decided to use a power of mine that I've only used once or twice before. I was going to bring him back to life.

I gently lowered my face to his, leaving my lips just a few inches from his. I exhaled slowly, breathing life into him. I closed my eyes, and used my power of resurrection to bring Captain Jack Sparrow back to life. I saw his future, he was not supposed to die yet.

When I could feel his cheeks grow warm again, I opened my eyes just before he did. He woke up with a start and sat up quickly and began coughing to catch his breath. He took a few deep breaths before shifting his gaze from me to under his flowy shirt. He moved the opening and now saw a bullet wound scar rather than a fresh wound.

He looked back up at me and asked in a low voice, "you're a witch?"

"Only a little," I said. I offered him my hand and we stood up together. The crew was still stunned, and none of them had a weapon to kill me, and my power was stronger than all of them combined. They didn't dare try to remove me again.

Jack looked at me suspiciously, and he seemed like he was at a cross roads. I touched his hand gently in an attempt to win him over, but in reality I could read his thoughts if I was touching him. I'd never let him know that though.

"She's a witch so she could always turn on us... but we could use her in our side. Her hands are warm... Should I leave her to the waters, or should I keep her until we reach the New World? Perhaps she will be more use to me and she will want to stay on the Pearl..."

Jack interrupted his own thoughts by barking at his crew, "will someonepleaselight the lamps?!"

I released Jack's hand and with a wave of my hand, a flame sparked at every candle on the ship. The Black Pearl glowed softly against the dark waters of the night.

Jack looked at me in slight shock, before it was slipped by a grin. "I think I might need to keep you."

"Bring me to the New World, and we shall see," I said to him. I looked at the full sail and muttered a little spell to give us a favorable wind. The wind blew on the sail, sending us straight to the New World.

Jack saw what I did, and he said, "aye... I have to keep you."

I chuckled and pushed my hand forward, sending pirates to their knees from how fast the Pearl began sailing. I charmed the ship so it was the fastest ship in the Caribbean. I would be beginning my new life in the New World before I knew it.

Chapter 22: The Professor: Mallory Talks to Richard

Chapter Text

Mallory's POV

I had just graduated with my doctorate in English, and I went back to my undergrad school to visit my favorite professor, Professor Richard Brown.

I remember him being a handsome man, and incredibly passionate about his studies and he cared deeply about his students. I always looked forward to his class. I had attended almost all of his office hours, because I had to miss a lot of classes. My mother had passed away during the semester I was taking his class, so I had to care for my younger sister, Lisa. I went to Professor Brown's office hours where we would discuss life, and anything that was on our minds. He was incredible, and a major inspiration for me to write a book. I don't know what it's going to be about yet, but I'm waiting for inspiration to hit me.

I know of his wife and daughter, who was just a child when I took his class. He loved them both so much, and he talked about them constantly. I was definitely jealous, everyone loved Professor Brown.

First, I called his office and I was told that he went on a sabbatical. I tried asking for his contact information, but they wouldn't give it to me. Frustrated that I didn't have another way to contact him, I went to Lions Gate, which is a popular bar in town.

The bar was nearly deserted, so it wasn't as popular as it used to be. I sat at the bar, and the bartender came up to me and asked if I wanted anything, and I ordered a vodka soda.

As I was waiting for my drink, the door opened and something urged me to turn around. Just as I did, I saw Professor Brown walk into the bar. He looked disheveled; his long curly hair was unkempt and he had patches of dark hair growing on his cheeks. But it was him.

When I stood up, my chair squeaked back which grabbed his attention. My eyes were wide as I was trying to process that Professor Brown was right in front of me, and he immediately recognized me even though it's been almost seven years.

"Mallory," I saw his lips mouth. I met him halfway, where I smiled and greeted him with a hug, and I felt his lips brush on my cheek.

"I was actually just looking for you," I said when we pulled apart.

"You were? I was just passing through. What's your drink?" He asked and I followed him to the bar stools.

"I just ordered," I said as the bartender put my drink in front of me.

He looked to him and said, "I'll take a martini." He turned to me with a sigh and asked, "how have you been, dear?"

"Fine.” I kept my smile. It was hard not to smile while in Professor Brown's company. I wonder if he knew that I had a crush on him when I was taking his class. Being with him again, I realized that it hasn't gone away.

"Good. Fine's fine. How's your sister?" He asked and then blinked at the bartender who gave him the martini. He could never wink.

"She's fine," I said. The years seemed to have changed him, he wasn't as prim and proper as he used to be.

"That's even finer. Let us cheers to a fine day all round," he said and raised his glass. Mine met his, then he downed his drink in a single gulp and asked for another. I'm not one to judge others life choices, but this wasn't the Professor Brown that I knew.

As his second drink was getting poured, he asked, "what was it you were looking for me for?"

"Right. I wanted to let you know that you were such an inspiration for me. I completed my doctorate in English."

His eyes grew wide. “You did?"

I smiled. "Mm-hmm."

"That's great! That calls for another toast," he said and raised his glass. "Here's to you."

My glass met his again, and he once again drained his glass with a single gulp and asked for another refill.

"You're driving tonight, right?" I asked as I sipped mine like a lady.

"Doesn't really matter much anymore, does it?" He chuckled softly.

That comment worried me. The light in his eyes had grown dim, and I tried desperately to find it. I tapped my nails gently on the glass of my drink, very confused by him.

Then he said, "I've been imploring to explore a smidgen of infidelity. Well, I've done more than implore."

"What the hell?" I asked and put my glass down. "What happened to you, Professor Brown?"

"What happened to me?" He reacted and pondered for a moment before he answered, "life."

Then he stood up and said, "I'm going to change this fucking song. It's a drag. Any requests?"

I was so confused. I shook my head softly. “No."

He staggered off, and I was left puzzled by this entire interaction. Was he always like this, and I was just too immature to see it? Or did he change?

He came back and sat down in his stool. He looked at himself in the mirror across the bar and asked, "do I look like I'm getting some color?"

"Like a tan? I don't know. Hard to tell from here." I squinted, but the light in the bar was too dark.

He touched his cheeks and said, "it really feels like I'm getting some color. I've been spending a lot of time outside with my students."

"That's nice, we never did that," I chuckled.

He chuckled also and said, "back then, I cared."

I wasn't quite sure what to say to that, so I tried to focus on the music that he chose. I listened to the smooth tune and I said, "nice music. I thought you'd be tuning into something different."

"Really, like what exactly?" He asked, taking a sip of his third martini.

"I don't know... Buddy Holly," I guessed with a soft chuckle.

"Jesus, you are the second person to tell me that. Uh, how old do you think I am?"

"Maybe around 60." I shrugged. I've never really thought about his age, but I knew he was slightly older than my parents. I know that it should matter to me, but I didn't care how old he was. He was always more of a fantasy, because he was married and would never go for a girl like me.

"That's fucking depressing," he snickered in disbelief.

Ithoughthe was slightly older than my parents...

"I'm sorry. I..." I stammered.

"No. No. No. You spoke your mind, it's all right.” He smiled lightly at me.

"Professor Brown—"

"Please, call me Richard."

"Richard," I corrected, "are you all right?"

"Um... No. No I'm not. I got cancer. It's all right, everyone my age has cancer. For some reason, it just never really kind of... hit until... now, what it really means. You know, because I'm gonna die. I mean, I'm really gonna die."

My lips parted at his surprise news. The news was terrible, and I wasn't expecting that at all. My mentor, my teacher was dying before my eyes. He was sick. I could feel my heart physically sink to my stomach. I never would have expected someone like him to have such a terrible disease.

"Oh my god, Richard. I am so sorry."

"Do me a favor?"

"Anything," I said.

"Please keep that between us, yeah?"

"Okay," I promised. Without thinking, I took his hand in mine and held it. I felt him squeeze my hand gently, appreciating my gesture.

"You're the only person I've ever told outside of Peter, and Veronica. I said goodbye to my daughter, Olivia, just now."

Peter is another professor in the English department, and Veronica is his wife. Peter was my professor for a semester, but I did not connect with him as deeply as I connected with Richard. But Peter is Richards best friend.

"You said goodbye?" I asked.

He nodded. "I'm gonna need to go away for a little bit."

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"I don't really know. I just got some things I gotta figure out," he said. From the way he talked about it, it seemed like he wasn't planning on coming back.

We were silent for a moment. It was a lot for me to process. I had so many questions for him, that I would never get answered if he was planning on skipping town and never return. Was he going to die alone? Did he want to die alone?

I finally asked, while still holding his hand, "how much... how much longer—"

"How much longer I'm expected to live?" He finished my question for me.

I felt my voice lump so I couldn't talk, I could only nod.

He sighed and said, "doctor gave me a year with treatment. Six months without treatment."

"When did you find out?"

"Just a couple months ago."

"Oh," I said and my voice cracked. I cleared my throat and could feel the tears prickle in my eyes. I chuckled at my emotions, and he looked at me with concern.

He said, "oh, my dear, don't be sad. Come on." He took his handkerchief out of his pocket with his free hand and handed it to me.

"I'm sorry," I chuckled. I dabbed my emerging tears with the cloth. "I'm sorry, you're just such an important part of my life."

"Thank you, that means a lot," he said.

I bit my lip and took another sip of my vodka soda. Then I asked, "what's some advice that you would give your younger self?"

He said, "I suppose that you're waiting for me to vomit out some profound words of wisdom."

"Yeah, kinda," I chuckled.

He smiled. "I thought you'd never ask."

I chuckled back.

He didn't even have to think. He said, "you're gonna die one day. Why the fuck do we sort of float through this weird thing called life without living? You know, live. Don't exist. Don't simply exist. That's boring as fuck. Live. You know. Stir some shit up. Fuck some shit up. Fuck it right. What I wanna focus on is enriching our lives. And try to extract some sort of wisdom that we can carry with us. You know, something other than mommy and daddy's baggage... may we forever remember that in each and every moment, we are composing the stories of our lives. Let's aim to make it a meaningful read or at least, an interesting one."

His last sentence made me pause. Your life can be read as a book. We learn lessons as we go along. I would definitely read Richard's book... then the inspiration hit me.

"I just started thinking... what if I come with you?"

He raised his eyebrows. “What?"

"I've been planning on writing a book for a while, and I think it would be perfect to capture your last few months and you can tell me all the lessons you learned to teach kids who still have a life to live. We turn your life story into a book."

He nodded, and a smile emerged on his face. "Then let's make it a meaningful read or at least an interesting one."

He suddenly started coughing, and I was afraid that he was going to cripple over. I retracted my hand and I handed him a napkin for him to cough into, and when he pulled the napkin away I noticed it was bloody.

"Does it hurt?" I asked. I felt terrible for him, because there was nothing I could do.

"Oh, fuck yeah," he coughed out. He cleared his throat and downed the rest of his martini.

"Oh, I'm so sorry."

"I'll manage. It's fine, Mal. I knew this was coming. I mean, uh, I look back on everything, and it all somehow makes so much sense. It's as though, uh, it couldn't be any other way. Why's our soul broken? Absurd. Yet... it's perfect. And it's also perfect when you look at it. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah.” I nodded softly.

"It's gonna be hard to leave this place. It's gonna be hard to say goodbye," he sighed. It broke my heart.

"Richard, I'm gonna miss you."

"You were one of my favorite students. I've been looking forward to see you again ever since you graduated. I'm gonna miss you too, Mal. If I'm able."

"Richard, you gotta stay. I wouldn't be who I am today without you. I wanna help you."

"Mal, no. I'd die here, and my corpse is nothing more than a breeding ground for ticks. Plus, this way, I get to collect my salary until the bitter end. Maybe even after, depending on how quickly it takes to find my, uh, body."

"Oh."

"I really enjoy your company," he said.

"I enjoy yours too."

"I still can't believe you received your doctorate. I'm very proud of you. Listen, the world needs people like you. The world is literally dying for your kind. Embrace that responsibility, and you run with it. Get out there, earn your keep. Give back. It's not gonna be easy. Never gonna be easy. For much of it, you'll stand alone but you've got to stand strong. You know, I beg you to not give into mediocrity like the other 98% of the world. Because you would be doing yourselves, and the world a greatest disservice. You're too smart. You're too smart to let it go to waste. And you've got one shot at this. One fucking shot. Don't let a moment of it slip by. Grab it, snatch it up, and make it yours. Celebrate every moment. Celebrate every fucking breath. I'm telling you, life, it's a birdsong."

"That was amazing, Richard. Please, try and find some happiness," I said.

"I'm working on it," he smiled weakly. His eyes were red and sunken. He had dark circles under his eyes that was hard for me to look away from. I did my best to look into his eyes, where I saw his soul. He was running out of time.

"I know you will," I said to him. I brought up my drink and said, "here's to your future."

"And yours. Your bright, bright future," he said and we clinked glasses. We took sips of our drinks together. I wasn't ready to say goodbye, even though I would be joining him in the last chapter of his book, I knew it would be one exhilarating read.

"In preparation for what lies ahead, I've come to realize that for much of my life, I've been mistaken, and I failed. I failed, not only to comprehend my mortality, but I failed to appreciate it. And as a result, I've failed to make the most of my life.... we've turned our backs on the most important duty that we possess, to live a life that is rich in experience that's of our own independent choosing. Seize your fucking existence, dear. Why don't we make death our closest fucking companion, so that we can finally have a second, a millisecond to appreciate that little bit of time that we have left. And most important of all, let us live well, so that we may fucking die well, because we've never been so close to death than this very moment."

I was trying to memorize his speeches as he paid for our tab and we started going to his car. I was prepared to leave my life and go wherever the wind took us. I was going to follow Richard until the end of his days.

I was introduced to his little white dog, Jibbles. I sat in the passenger seat of the car with a pen in my hand, writing down every sweet word he said to me. It was like I was an undergraduate again, and we were just shooting the breeze about life and love.

Richard stopped at a cross roads, where a corn field was in front of us. He looked to the left and right, trying to figure out which path he needed to go on.

I asked him, "which way are you going to turn?"

He just started laughing and drove us straight through the field.

Chapter 23: Sweeney Todd + Pirates of the Caribbean: Antique Store

Chapter Text

Mia's POV
2024

I was driving across the United Kingdom to visit some family. I was alone in my car, but I've never truly felt alone.

I'm clairvoyant, which means that I have the ability to see events from the past, and rarely the future. Sometimes I see dead people. It's cliché, I know. But I've been like this for as long as I can remember. I can peak through the curtain of a persons life. It has its advantages and disadvantages, but I'm finally old enough to have learned how to control it, and not be afraid.

As I was driving, I nearly passed an antique shop that was calling out to me. I am always listening to my gut, because it's usually right. I pulled into the parking lot and stood at the entrance. It looked like the building had been there for ages, and I saw no other cars in the parking lot.

I tried the door, and it opened with ease. I stepped into the time capsule that smelled musty and of mildew. I was greeted by a man standing behind the register, who was sorting through old silverware.

"Can I help you find anything today, Miss?" He asked me.

I shook my head no and said, "no, I'm fine. Thank you."

"I'll be around if you need any assistance," he said and turned his attention back to his task.

I walked around the store, admiring the objects that all have a story and a history. I brushed my fingers against an old postcard, where a vision crossed my mind of a man writing on the very postcard I was touching to his wife across the country. He was hunched over a desk with a candle as his only light. When I removed my hand, the vision disappeared and I was back in the store. I assumed that the postcard was from the 1920’s or 1930's, but when I checked the date that was written in thin and slightly smudged cursive, it was 1923.

I was trying to figure out what the universe wanted me to see. My heart was leading my feet, so I kept walking around until I got to some shelving at the back of the store. My eyes glanced around at the shelves, and all I saw were knick-knacks and little trinkets. That was until I found a compass.

The lid was flipped open, and I could see details of a map on the inside. The outside was green and gold, and I stood on my tip toes to take a look at the needle. I frowned and took out my iPhone and opened up my compass application to compare. This antique compass was broken, because it wasn't pointing north.

I would have shrugged this object off as a useless trinket, but my stomach was turning at its presence. I delicately looked at the tag, and saw that it said, "found in 1984 in the 1728 Shipwreck of the Black Pearl off the coast of Carolina, United States. Owned by Captain Jack Sparrow. Made in late 1600's."

I scooped the compass up in my hands, and my vision blackened. The antique shop disappeared and I found myself on a pirate ship. I clutched the compass in my hands as I spun around, admiring the beautiful ship. I could smell the salty sea air, and I felt the uneven ground of the rocking deck. I was really there.

I stopped when I saw a pirate swagger up to me. He walked cockily, and his linen jacket blowed behind him from the breeze. He had long raven locks, with a hat on top of his head. He said, "oi, you must be new here. How'd you find yourself on me ship? I don't remember leaving with a fetching creature such as yourself."

"I-I'm not, I'm sorry."

It's not very often where I find myself in history. I'm usually just observing, but he could see me too. It was as if I had put myself into his reality.

He cocked his head to the side and hesitated before he poked my arm with his finger. Then he stared at his finger, then back at me and stated, "you feel real."

"Who are you?" I asked him. I could sense that he was a good man, and I felt relatively safe near him.

"Captain Jack Sparrow, captain of this here ship, the Black Pearl. Ain't she a beauty?" Jack asked and gestured to his grand ship. I held my breath, because he was said to be the owner of the compass.

"Very beautiful," I said softly as I kept looking around. The stars were shining bright above us, and I didn't see any other crew members on the deck. We were in the middle of the ocean, and I had to take a step to regain my balance.

"What is it that you have there?" He asked, pointing at the compass in my hands. His eyebrows stitched together and he held his hand out expectingly.

"It's... um... a compass," I told him.

"That's mine," he said and tried to snatch it out of my hands but I yanked it out of his reach just in time. Then he huffed and said, "that's not funny. Give it back."

"It's broken," I stated.

"It's notbroken," he mocked. "It's... unique."

"Tell me how."

"It leads you to what you want most in the world," he said.

"That's impossible."

He lifted his fingers up in the air and corrected me by saying, "improbable."

I looked around frantically and asked, "Jack... where are we?"

He clicked his tongue at me and said, "it's Captain to you, darling. Or Captain Jack, or Captain Sparrow."

"Then it's Miss to you. Or Miss Mia, or Miss Johnson," I snapped back.

He raised his eyebrows at me and said, "lot of attitude in you, do you?"

"Where are we, Captain?" I asked.

"Off the coast of Carolina in the New World," he answered.

"You might want to change course," I said. I was nervous that this was where he was supposed to suffer his fatal shipwreck.

"Why would I want to do that?"

"I'm from the future, and the Black Pearl gets into a shipwreck off the coast of Carolina," I told him honestly.

"Impossible," he said.

"Improbable."

He snapped his fingers at me, "don't use my own words against me. You aren't supposed to have that, give it back," he said and plucked the compass out of my hands.

I jolted and once again found myself in the antique shop. The compass fell to the floor, and I quickly picked it up and controlled my power long enough to not see anything when I touched it. I put the compass back on the shelf where it belonged, and took another look at the tag. Now, it said, "found in 1996, buried in the Caribbean. Owned by Captain Jack Sparrow. Made in late 1600's."

Beside the legendary compass was a small black case. I opened it carefully, and was greeted with straight edge razors. I shifted the tag and read, "razors owned by Fleet Street, London serial killer, Sweeney Todd. Made in 1820's."

The tag piqued my interest greatly. I took a small breath, and as soon as I felt that I had built up enough energy again, I touched the cold metal of the razor with my fingertips.

When I opened my eyes again, I was instantly transported to a small single-chair barbershop. I noticed a vanity pushed against a wall, and a chest on the other side of the room. I took a few steps toward the massive window that nearly took the entire wall, and looked down at the street. It looked like a cold, rainy day in London, which was typical.

"Fleet Street..." I said to myself after I noticed one of the street signs. I've been to Fleet Street in London before. I could recognize some of the buildings, but it's been a couple of centuries so things looked quite different.

Everyone walking on the street was dressed like it was the Victorian Era. They were all talking amongst themselves, living their own lives.

I backed up until I saw myself in the mirror of the vanity. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw the figure of a man standing in the doorway behind me. I spun around quickly and nearly tripped over my own feet. The man had a scowl on his face and he was staring me down. His energy was vengeful, and he gave me weird vibes. He had thick black hair, with a white stripe going down the middle like a skunk. I did not feel safe with him.

"Hello, my dear, do you have an appointment?" He asked in a relaxing voice.

"Yes," I said without thinking. I felt so nervous around him, but I knew that if I just dropped the razor that I had concealed in my palm, I'd be pulled back to my own reality.

"Sit, please," he said. He walked toward the vanity and allowed the door to close behind him. He pulled out one of his razors from his pocket and began sharpening it with a belt.

"I don't need a shave," I told him.

He chuckled as he continued to sharpen it, "I know. This isn't for you. Sit, dear, sit."

I slumped down in the chair nervously, and he asked, "what is it you want?"

"Just a trim," I said. I did not let my eyes leave him.

"I don't usually work on women," he said as he grabbed a pair of small scissors from his vanity and walked in front of me. He spun the chair around so I couldn't see him in the mirror, and he began brushing out my hair.

"Someone recommended you," I stated.

He thought for a moment before he asked, "was it Mrs. Lovett? From downstairs?"

I went along with it and said, "yes. She said that I must go up to you."

"Did she now?" He asked.

I thought he appreciated it, so I kept going. "She said that I would never go to another barber after you were done with me."

He sighed softly and I heard him put the scissors away. I tried to turn around to see what he was doing, but before I knew it his hand was holding my head, and he pressed one of the razors to my throat.

I gasped in fear and my hands shot up to his strong wrist. When I tried to pull him away, his blade dug further into my skin with a sheering pain.

"I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming," I muttered to remind myself that I was safe.

Sweeney chuckled eerily and said, "if you're dreaming, why can I hear you scream?"

I screamed out again in fear, trying desperately to get the blade out from my throat.

I gasped again and stayed completely still as he whispered in my ear, "it's a shame. I was beginning to like you too."

He sliced the blade against my throat, and I felt my warm blood spill from the deep wound. I gasped and started gagging on my blood, and I brought my hands up to my neck in horror. I couldn't breathe, and I was panicking. He stepped on a pedal, and the chair began to tip backwards. His scornful face was the last thing I remember before I slipped down the floor and landed on the concrete basement below.

The razor must have slipped out of my hand after my fall, because I was immediately brought back to the antique shop, coughing and sputtering as I tried to get the blood out of my mouth. I nearly spit on the floor because there was a metallic taste in my mouth. My hands reached my throat and I found that there was no cut or any blood on my hands anymore.

I put the razor back on the shelf and slowly began backing away. I never wanted to go through that again. I wanted to buy the compass so I could visit Captain Jack whenever I wanted, but after my visit with Sweeney Todd, I was beginning to rethink my decision. If no one had bought it yet, it'll probably be there if I came back. But I really don't want to come back.

I thanked the shop owner, and left. I had never driven out of a parking lot so fast in my life.

Chapter 24: Cry-Baby: Shy-Guy

Chapter Text

Shirley's POV

I stood beside my locker at school, gazing out of the corner of my eye at Cry-Baby. He's one of the hottest guys at school, but he would never notice me. He hasn’t yet.

I had my school books hugged to my chest as I got so distracted by his charm while he talked to the other students who slowly surrounded him. Squares and drapes alike all throw themselves at him. He can have any girl he wants, and so far he has had his eyes set on Allison. She's beautiful, so there was no competition.

My friends have all tried to lure me into being more open, but I've been shy my whole life. I wish I had the guts to speak up about my feelings toward Cry-Baby, but I don't have the nerve. I'd rather just admire from afar than risk any embarrassment.

I snapped out of my little day dream of being Cry-Baby's girlfriend and I turned back into my locker. I tucked some of my long curly hair behind my ear before I stood up on my tip-toes to take my jacket off the top coat hanger. My locker is on the top row, and I'm short so it's hard for me to reach.

In my little struggle, I saw a hand reach over my line of vision and grab my coat for me. The leather jacket sleeves reflected in my eyes as the kind stranger reached into my locker to take my coat off the hook for me. He handed it to me, and I followed the arm until I saw his face. It was Cry-Baby.

"Cry-Baby..." escaped my lips.

"You're Shirley, right?" He asked.

He stood beside me as I absentmindedly shut the door of my locker. I had no idea that he knew my name. We have had one class together this semester, but he has never noticed me in it. He has never talked to me.

My mouth went dry from my nerves, but I got myself to nod my head.

He continued, "don't we have Chemistry with Mr. Anderson together?"

Again, my mouth was so dry I had to nod. My stomach was doing flips, and I had no idea what to say. I just hoped that I would not embarrass myself.

"I'm a little behind... do you think you could tutor me?"

"M-me? Tutor you?" I asked.

"If you got the time. I know squares like youse are always too busy for a juvenile delinquent like me."

"No, not at all," I said. I cleared my throat and readjusted the books in my hands. Cry-Baby noticed and swooped down to take my books from me. I said, "you don't have to do that."

"I insist," he said. My books were now in his hands and he walked me to my next class. The entire time, I saw everyone's eyes on us as he kept trying to talk to me. My stomach was doing cartwheels, and my head was as light as a feather. I had never imagined I would be walking down the halls with Cry-Baby by my side, holding my books. It was a dream come true... and I've barely said a word.

We got to my class and we walked all the way to my seat before he put my books down on my desk. He took out a comb from his pocket and ran it through his dark silky hair.

I might have looked a little too long at him before he chuckled and snapped me out of it. He asked, "so, will you do it?"

I nodded. "Yeah. See you at 8?"

Cry-Baby winked at me and said, "it's a date."

He took out a cigarette and lit it right when my teacher came in. She put her hands on her hips and scolded Cry-Baby. "Wade Walker? Are you smoking in my class?"

I slipped into my seat and he quickly turned toward her and hid his hands behind his back. "No, ma'am."

"Let me see behind you back," she said and started walking toward him.

He slowly spun around as he began taking steps toward the door, and you could see the smoke riding from behind his head. The other students laughed. Right before he was going to slip out the door, he stuck the cigarette between his lips and said to me, "8 o'clock!" And he disappeared into the hall.

My teacher stomped to the door and closed it. She huffed and returned to the front of the class. She finally said, "okay, class, turn to page 134 in your textbook for today's lesson."

I opened my textbook and turned to the correct page. I could see her lips move, but I couldn't stop thinking about my date tonight with Cry-Baby. I was still in minor shock that he even knew my name. Never in my wildest dreams did I think a shy girl like me would have have one-on-one time with the cutest boy in school.

Chapter 25: Pirates of the Caribbean: The Song

Chapter Text

Florence 's POV

I sat in a dark tavern of Tortuga, trying to stay away from the drunk pirates who were throwing glass bottles at unsuspecting customers. I sat up at the bar, trying to enjoy my own drink before I went off to figure out what I wanted to do next with my life.

Before I knew it, a pirate I have never seen before slumped in the stool next to me and ordered himself a rum. I tried not to look at him as I drank my bevy, but he couldn't stop muttering to himself which made it hard to ignore him.

"This bloody thing doesn't work," he complained to himself. Then he asked the barkeep for another drink.

"Not until you pay, Sparrow," the barkeep said. If the barkeep knows his name, he must be a regular.

I finally glanced at the pirate and saw that he was holding the biggest coin I've ever seen. It had a stamp of the King on it, and was gold. I assumed that it was solid gold, and worth more than all the jewelry I was wearing.

I asked him, "what is that?"

Sparrow looked at me and then swung his head back to the coin. He said, "this? Oh— they say there is a certain person out there who can sing a certain song. When this certain person sings the certain song in the presence of this here coin, the certain person can bring certain deceased pirates back from the dead. Savvy?"

"What is the certain song?" I asked.

"Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell some lass in a tavern whom I just met," he said back. Sassy.

I peered at the coin again and squinted softly. It did look vaguely familiar, and a tune began to play in my head that I couldn't shake out. It took me a moment to recall the song, because it's been many moons since I heard it last. The song played louder and louder in my head, and I couldn't help but begin to hum it.

Sparrow frowned and swiveled his head in my direction. "What was that?"

I stopped and asked, "what was what?"

"That song," he said.

"Oh, it was just something that your coin reminded me of." I waved it off.

He shoved the coin in my hands and ordered, "sing it."

"I don't sing," I said.

"Oh, come on. Let's hear it."

I cleared my throat nervously before I let my lips move to form the words of the song. I muttered the words quietly as I hesitated to sing in front of this pirate.

"Sing, young lady!" Jack ordered.

With nothing to lose besides my dignity, I allowed my voice to grow and I let the words fly out of my mouth. After I got a few words into the song, I no longer had any fear. I felt almost hypnotized as I sang, and I had no control.

There once was a ship that put to sea
The name of the ship was the Billy of Tea
The winds blew up, her bow dipped down
Oh blow, my bully boys, blow

Soon may the Wellerman come
To bring us sugar and tea and rum
One day, when the tonguing is done
We'll take our leave and go

I dropped the coin on the counter and I gained control over myself once again. I gasped and my chest heaved as I caught my breath. My heart began to pull me out of the bar and wanted me to go North, but I kept myself in my seat. I had never done anything like that before, and I felt terrified. What possessed me to do something so out-of-the-ordinary?

Suddenly, the door to the tavern burst open and a pirate came running in. He pointed at me and shouted, "it's her! Seize her!"

Sparrow yelped and quickly whipped out his pistol. He shot the random man, and he fell to his face on the tavern floor.

I gasped again, "what did you do that for?"

"You are the one," he said to me with a smile. "You're coming with me."

I was on the hunt for something new anyway, so I decided to go with him. I paid for our drinks with a couple pieces of silver I had in my dress pocket and walked out of the tavern with Sparrow. He gave me his coat to blend in with the rest of the pirates so no one else could find me. Why did they want me?

Sparrow walked alongside me as we traveled through the port and he asked, "what's your name?"

"Florence," I said.

"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow," he introduced.

"Jack Sparrow?" I asked to make sure I heard him right.

"CaptainJack Sparrow, if you please," he corrected.

"I'm sorry, Captain," I apologized.

"Tell me, Florence, what do you know of Captain Barbossa?"

"Who?" I asked while I readjusted his coat over my shoulders.

"Let me start at the beginning. Do you know of the Aztec gold curse of theBlack Pearl?" He asked.

I shook my head.

He frowned and asked, "what about Davy Jones?"

"Who?"

"The Fountain of Youth?"

"Never heard of it."

"I'm the discoverer of the Fountain of Youth," he said deadpan.

"Oh." Was all I could say. Was that supposed to mean something?

"How about Captain Salazar?" He asked.

I shook my head again. “No, I'm sorry."

He chuckled, "this is going to be fun."

Sparrow led me to his ship that was docked at the port. He gave me a brief run down, because he said that the full story would take about twelve and a half hours to tell. He said that he had to trust my judgement for the heading, because I was the only one who could connect with the coin.

Together, we sailed off to bring Captain Barbossa back from the dead.

Chapter 26: Alice in Wonderland: Reflection

Chapter Text

Alicia Bassett's POV

It's been years since I first discovered the amazing country of Underland. I was introduced to the amazing inhabitants of the wonderful land, but there was only one I fell in love with: Hatter.

I come to Underland so much, the White Queen has requested that I water her beautiful gardens. The gardens are charming and lush with green trees and many flowers. Tiger-Lily's, roses, daisies, and violets are my favorites. It makes the gardens colorful and lively, and I have the opportunity to walk the grounds almost everyday to water the plants.

I held a green watering can with both hands in front of my hips. My thighs hit the plastic with every step, and I could feel my long curly brown hair swaying down my back. I wore a pastel green dress, matching with the aesthetic of Underland. Ever since I found Underland, I've been obsessing over all the colors that the lovely land gives naturally that I try to reflect in my clothes. I could hear the flowers bickering around me, but I've gotten used to it. I glanced down at the pond I was walking beside and stopped.

I got down on my knees and looked at my reflection in the rippling water. I put my hands up to my hair and pushed it up, but I frowned. I stared deep into my brown eyes, but I felt insecure. I could point out all my flaws in a snap. I don't think my reflection shows who I am on the inside. How could the Hatter love someone like me?

I heard footsteps approaching and a voice rang in my ears, "what are you doing down there, darling?"

I glanced up and saw Hatter standing beside me. He gave me a gap toothed grin and held out his hand. I glanced down at his hand that had thin fingerless gloves on and a thimble covering his bruised index finger. I took his hand and he slowly pulled me up to my feet. Hatter stands much taller than me, so I looked up to gaze into his loving green eyes.

His expression of pure happiness morphed into sadness right before my eyes. He tends to mirror my emotions, because he feels so much.

He asked softly, "what is it, Alicia?"

"I'm sorry.” I sniffed and chuckled, "it's silly."

"No, no, no. It's not silly. I know silly, and this is not silly. Your emotions are not silly. Tell me, please."

"I just..." I glanced down at my reflection again and my feelings came bubbling up. I looked back at Hatter and told him truthfully, "I see my reflection but I don't like the face that looks back."

His head tilted innocently and he asked, "your face?"

"My face, my body, my hair... I don't understand what you see in me. I'm afraid that someday I'm going to leave Underland, and you won't want me to come back."

I looked down at my bare feet in shame. I didn't want him to know how I felt, but I couldn't keep it in anymore. Hatter's finger tucked under my chin and he raised my head back up to look at him. He smiled at me kindly and he said, "take a walk with me."

He hooked his arm with mine and we started to walk down the little road that travels through Underland. He pointed at the nearby flowers and said, "you're more beautiful than the flowers. You are sweeter than honey. You are far more graceful than the White Queen. You are kinder than the most gentle rabbit. You are nicer than the nicest hat I've ever made... and I've made many nice hats."

I felt my face grow warm. Hatter made me feel worthy and loved. I replied, "thank you, Hatter."

"Wait, I'm not finished yet."

"Oh."

"When I first laid my eyes upon you, I found it absolutely criminal that you had never been to Underland before. You were the most exquisite, lovely, and terribly amazing woman I've ever met. As I've gotten to know you, I see your personality shines in your eyes, your face, and out of your fingers and toes. Your warmth is radiant, I can see it in your eyes. If I had it my way, I'd wish that you could never leave."

"I wish that too. Thank you."

"When you look at your reflection, you cannot see the way your eyelids flutter when you're drifting off to sleep. You don't see what the world sees when you're being you. It also doesn't show the way your eyes light up when you're loving what you do. The mirror doesn't capture when you're smiling when no one else can see, and your reflection cannot tell you about how much you mean to me. The mirror only shows your skin, and if you think that dictates your worth, it's time you looked within." He poked at my chest, right on my heart.

We walked all the way to the mirror I used to travel to Underland, and he took my hands in his. He leaned forward and pressed his thin lips against my forehead in a gentle kiss.

"Until next time, my flower?" He asked. He picked a nearby flower and held it delicately between his fingers.

I smiled and nodded. I took the flower and gave it a gentle sniff before I stepped into the mirror, and found myself back in my bedroom at home. I peered down at the flower that he gave me, and it was the most vibrant thing in my room. I looked back at the mirror, now loving the reflection that looked back at me. He was right, I could now see what was on the inside shining through. Maybe I should give her a chance. If Hatter loves her, she can't be that bad.

Chapter 27: Pirates of the Caribbean: Estranged Heiress

Chapter Text

Narrator's POV

The Faithful Bride is one of the most bustling taverns in all of Tortuga. It's a place where prostitutes and pirates from far and wide can come together and enjoy the night life that the port has to offer.

Captain Jack Sparrow has been a regular at the Faithful Bride for many years. Even though he travels with his crew upon the Black Pearl throughout the Caribbean, he is confident to call Tortuga home.

One night, Jack docked the Black Pearl at the popular port and invited his entire crew out for a celebratory drink after a success of honest pirating. They walked through the busy port until they reached the tavern.

Inside, musicians were playing loud music while the local drunks were causing a ruckus that everyone was immune to. Jack stepped out of the way of a pirate trying to stumble out of the door, and he brushed some imaginary dust off of his brown coat. He scanned the tavern to try to find a table for his crew to sit at, but instead became absolutely infatuated with a woman sitting alone at a table.

The soft glow from the lanterns that were placed throughout the tavern caused the woman's dark skin to glow. Her focus was drawn toward her tankard of beer that was given to her when she first walked through the door by a patron. She pushed her thick dreadlocks off of her shoulder, and Jack could see the dread jewelry that she had in her hair. The jewelry was made of a variety of beads, pearls, old silver, with undertones of gold. Her gold rings glimmered in the light when she moved her nimble hand. Jack had never seen such a beautiful pirate.

Jack watched as the woman crossed her legs, and the fabric moved to reveal a rip that travelled all the way up to her hip. His eyebrows rose at the sight of the woman's leg, but she quickly readjusted her dark skirt. Despite this slit, her clothes were in good condition, which is rare for pirates. Even Jack hasn't had a wash in years, but he swore he could smell the cleanliness of the woman from across the dirty tavern.

"What say you, Captain?" Gibbs interrupted Jack's train of thought.

"Hold on one moment, won't you," Jack said and patted Gibbs' chest as he walked away.

Gibbs watched Jack saunter up to the woman, a little confused at first until he saw her as well. It was then that he completely understood Jack's distracted demeanor.

Jack swaggered up to the woman, and with the upmost confidence said, "I would have bought you a bevy, darling, but it looks like someone beat me to it."

The woman glanced up at Jack, and smirked at him. Jack fell for her rare and enchanting hazel eyes. She said in an English accent, "aye, maybe next time."

"Perhaps you'd like to accompany me to my ship," Jack offered.

"I'm afraid I'm busy," she replied playfully.

"I've got lots of rum on me ship, if that fancies you," he said.

The woman raised an eyebrow up at Jack and asked, "if you do, then why are you here?"

"Special occasion," he said. He invited himself to sit down beside her and introduced himself, "Captain Jack Sparrow."

She smiled at him bewitchingly and said, "ah, Captain Jack. I've heard your name around the ports."

Jack smiled proudly. “Have you now?"

"Aye. Nothing too good, I'm afraid."

Jack's smile dropped. He replied sassily, "you're making it quite difficult to enjoy your company."

She brought the tankard up to her lips and took a small sip as Jack asked for her name.

"Bethesda Wanderlust," she answered.

Jack's eyes lit up when he heard her name. She is famous through out the seven seas for her vast wealth, which she had on display through her rings, necklaces, and earrings, as well as her beautiful dark clothes.

She was the daughter of a wealthy British man. After a pillaging journey to the Caribbean, Bethesda found a love for the freedom that sailing offered her. When her father refused to allow her to become a pirate, she traded her corset for a sword and stole a great portion of her fathers money. She was an heiress, but was unwilling to wait years for her father to perish. She has been a pirate for a couple of years now, with a huge fortune at her disposal. She buys herself the best of everything, and lives life lavishly.

"Wanderlust, now why does that name ring a bell?" Jack asked while tapping his chin. "Oh! I know. You're the daughter of John Wanderlust."

Bethesda nodded. “The same."

"Oh, darling, I was curious if I'd ever run into you."

"Really? I never thought the same about you," she joked. She did know of Captain Jack, but had never pictured him to be so handsome.

"Rumor has it that you got swept up in the storm outside of Hispaniola," Jack stated.

She nodded and shuddered at the recent memory. “Aye."

"It looks as though you're in need of a ship. And I just so happen to have a ship."

Bethesda looked up at Jack with her hazel eyes. A small smile tugged at her lips at the thought of traveling with Jack Sparrow. She found him to be handsome and charming, and found it hard to stop looking at him. She smiled at him and said, "only if I am First-Mate."

Jack didn't even hesitate to answer, "done." Jack grabbed her hand to shake it and stood up from his chair. He pointed at the tankard and asked, "are you going to finish that?"

Bethesda shook her head so Jack quickly took the tankard and polished off the rest of her drink. When he slammed the mug on the table, he beckoned her to follow him back to the front door.

"Master Gibbs! We're off," Jack said once they got close to the crew.

"But we haven't gotten drinks yet, Cap'n," Gibbs reminded him.

Jack marched right past him while saying, "I don't care."

Gibbs sighed and gathered the rest of the crew to follow Jack and Bethesda back to the Pearl.

Once everyone was on board, Jack was quick to introduce Bethesda to the crew. "This fine young lass is Bethesda Wanderlust. Promoted to first-mate, she is. She is a guest on the Pearl and must be treated as such."

Jack tried to play off his behavior by pretending to be nice in order to obtain her wealth. That is what he plans to tell people if he is ever questioned. However, he couldn't help but feel drawn to her, regardless if she had money or not.

Throughout the months of being at sea, Bethesda had proven to be a fantastic First-Mate and a superb distraction when it came to fighting enemies. Not only was she a beautiful flirt, but she was also very skilled with her sword, very courageous, level-headed, and incredibly brave. She could bring any man to their knees, and impressed everyone with her ship knowledge.

One night, the lamps were lit around the Black Pearl in the dark of the night. Bethesda was steering the ship, following the farthest star to their next adventure. Everyone else was hunkered under the deck to rest for the night.

The waters were calm, and the moon reflected in the dark waters below. The stars shined brightly above, which Bethesda would try to find the constellations of to pass the time. The only noise was of the waves that bounced against the ship's hull, and Bethesda's soft humming to keep herself awake.

The squeak from hinges caused Bethesda to stop humming. Jack emerged from below deck, readjusting his hat with his large hands.

Bethesda gave Jack her report of the night. "I've been following the star, we should arrive by morning."

"Splendid," Jack said while slowly walking up to the helm. It was his turn to steer the ship for the rest of the night.

Before Bethesda could move, Jack gripped the wheel by placing his hand over hers. He looked down at Bethesda, and admired everything about her. He had fallen for her personality, which meshed together with his perfectly. He rubbed his thumb ever so gently on her skin, and she snapped her head in his direction.

"Have I ever told you that your eyes are absolutely beautiful in the moonlight.” Jack smiled at her gently.

"That's a new one," Bethesda stated.

"Aye, well, it's true. I'm a lot of things, but a liar is not one of them... most of the time."

Bethesda slipped her hand away and said, "I'm quite tired, Jack, so if you have something to say, kindly spit it out."

Jack sighed softly. His feelings toward Bethesda had been boiling up inside of him ever since he picked her up in Tortuga. He tried not to fall for her, but she made it impossible. He finally said, "you stole my heart, darling, and I'd like to get it back."

Bethesda knew Jack well enough to know that behind his sarcasm were true feelings. She was almost speechless, because she felt the same way.

"Give me mine back, and we'll be square," she said, "but I can't help but think you only want me for my money."

"Each time we touch, all I want is more. Forget the treasure. Forget the heading. You're all I want," Jack said, stepping closer to her. He looked down and grabbed her nimble hand in his. He felt his heart beat faster just being near her.

With his free hand, Jack reached to his belt and pulled out his compass. He flipped up the top and lowered his hand so he and Bethesda could see which way the needle pointed. It was pointing straight ahead. Bethesda took a step to the side, and the needle followed her. She tried the other way, and it still followed her. She looked up at Jack in both surprise and contentment.

He said, "as you know, my compass points to what I want most in the entire world. If this isn't enough proof that I care for you and only you, I don't know what is."

"Oh, Jack, I feel the same," Bethesda said while her heart skipped a beat.

Jack took another step closer to her, and placed one of his hands up to her smooth cheek. He closed his eyes and pushed his lips onto hers. Bethesda's eyes grew wide for only a moment before she fell into the kiss. Her lips were moving fluidly against his, as if they were two pieces of a puzzle.

When they finally pulled away, Jack said while tucking some if her hair behind her ear, "all right, darling, get some rest. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow."

Bethesda smiled softly at Jack and said, "thank you, Captain."

Jack felt his fingers tingle when she called him that, he loved it. Bethesda left Jack at the helm and walked down the main deck. She looked back and noticed that Jack was still looking at her. He smiled at her gently, and then she disappeared under the deck.

Bethesda was too excited to fall asleep. All she could think about was her new courtship with Jack Sparrow.

Bethesda's POV

The trip that was supposed to be plotted to rekindle my relationship with my estranged father was promptly halted when I was clamped in irons and thrown into a dirty jail cell.

Jack and I sailed the Black Pearl all the way to England, where I was supposed to once again meet up with my father. I wanted to make amends, since I did steal some of his money and run off to have a swashbuckling life of piracy. He wasn't expecting me, and I was not expecting to find out that he had perished.

Not only perished, but had been murdered.

Apparently, the officials of the United Kingdom have been looking for me for a long time. I was arrested for the murder, as well as many other things related to piracy. Jack Sparrow was expunged of all of his wicked deeds, because everyone assumed that he was the one who answered my wanted poster: Bethesda Wanderlust Wanted Dead or Alive.

That couldn't have been further from the truth. Jack and I have been courting ever since that starry night on the ship after I joined his crew when we met at the Unfaithful Bride just a year or so ago. My life has been a dream since that day, a dream that I was abruptly woken from when I found out that my father was dead. Everyone thought I killed him for his money because I was the only heir and our argument made us infamous throughout the seven seas. Apparently, all of his money disappeared shortly after his death and everyone accused me of stealing it. I don't care if I'm given all the money in the world. I would never trade my fathers life for it. Never.

Besides, I was not even on the continent when he was murdered. I was still sailing around the Caribbean with Jack, but the judge did not care. He ordered for me to be executed, and sent me away.

I sat in the dirty jail cell, looking down at my hands that were caked it dirt. My jaw was clenched and I could feel my fury burning in my eyes. Was this really my fate? I sniffed and rested my head against the cell wall. I closed my eyes and tried to distract myself from my impending doom by twirling my gold rings around my fingers and trying to imagine that I'm on a beach, drinking rum with Jack. The entire room smelled like a pig pen which burned my nose and kept me from my fantasy of being on a beach. I was distracted from my distraction when I heard the hinges of the main door squeak, and I assumed that the guard was making his rounds again.

I exhaled sharply, and did not pay him any mind. I heard his belt clanking and jiggling loudly which I found odd. Usually he is unnaturally silent. Then, I heard Jack's deep voice say, "oh, there you are."

I opened my eyes and shot my head toward the cell bars. Jack stood with a slight hunch, as if he was hiding. His dark eyes met mine and a smile spread across his sunburnt lips.

"Jack," I whispered and rushed to the bars. I wrapped my calloused hand around the metal and my face was so close, I could feel the cold of the metal sucking the warmth from my skin.

"How's it going?" He asked.

"It could be worse. But not much worse," I stated. "Have you come to get me out?"

Jack opened his mouth to respond, but froze after lifting his finger up. Then, he closed his mouth and said, "I couldn't find the keys."

"You couldn't find the keys?!" I whispered back harshly.

"It's all right, darling, I have a plan."

That did not make me feel like I was going to be saved.

"And I should warn you, they've set a date for your execution," he said.

"When do I march to the gallows?" I asked.

"Tomorrow at high noon."

"That's just wonderful," I said sarcastically. "Your plan better be in motion because we haven't got a lot of time."

"And you aren't going to the gallows."

I looked up at him and cocked my eyebrow in confusion. "Where am I going?"

Jack cleared his throat softly and said, "to the stake."

My eyes widened and my lungs froze in their position. My lips began to tremble as I tried to wrap my head around it. That is not good. Not good at all.

"The stake?"

Jack nodded sullenly.

"So... that means..." my voice trailed off. I thought only witches were burned at the stake. I guess not. I'd much rather be hanged.

"I'm afraid so," Jack said softly.

"Jack, I really don't want to be burned at the stake. What are we—"

Jack shut me up by placing his lips on my forehead between the bars. I exhaled softly and fully rested my forehead against the rusty bars. I closed my eyes just to try to enjoy the moment, because this is probably the last I get to have with my love.

Jack and I both jumped when we heard the door open again. This time, the real guard was coming down the cells. If Jack is caught, we would both die so he rushed out and disappeared out the back exit.

The next morning, I was taken out of my cell but not without a fight. They ended up needing three guards just to subdue me. One on each arm, and another to hold my legs back so I could not try to escape. I tried kicking, but it didn't stop them. I even tried to flirt my way out, but it didn't work.

I was escorted out of the cell block, and into a room. I was stripped of all of my lavish pirate clothes and forced into a peasant white chemise. Practically underwear. If they were trying to humiliate me, it was working.

Once I was completely stripped of my identity, I was forced out into the sunlight. I was pushed through the bustling crowd in the town square who were yelling and screaming at me.

I was pushed up the platform, and positioned in front of a giant stake. I swallowed harshly and clenched my jaw at the situation. I was staying strong, but I felt a hot tear slowly glide down my burning cheek. I've heard that burning at the stake is the most painful death, and I really didn't want to find out.

My hands were bound behind me, as if I was hugging the stake to my back. The knot was so tight, I could barely move.

"Riddle me this. Why would I kill my own father, steal his money, only to come back to the only place I was wanted for these crimes?" I asked the executioner to try to talk my way out of my execution. "No one is that bloody stupid."

They either ignored me, or my logic was too accurate because no one said anything. They continued walking around me, and did not care for my pleas for survival. I was beginning to think that they knew I had nothing to do with my fathers murder, and they were just using it as an excuse to kill me.

The executioner stepped behind me and was handed a massive torch. The fire reflected in my eyes in fear. They poured liquor on me, and said, "this is to help speed the process along.

I licked some of the liquid off my lips and replied sarcastically, "oh, good, because I was afraid that I wasn't going to burn fast enough."

"Bethesda Wanderlust, you have been charged with a variety of crimes associated with piracy. These include looting, smuggling, arson, poaching, general lawlessness, and the murder of your father, John Wanderlust. You are hear-by sentenced to death by burning at the stake until dead. May god have mercy on your soul."

I closed my eyes so I didn't have to watch. I was expecting to hear the liquor ignite, and the feeling of burning hot fire spreading across my body. Instead, I felt a sudden release from my bounds. I opened my eyes and pulled my hands in front of me and watched happily as the cut rope slipped off my wrists. I shot my eyes over and saw that Jack was holding a sword in his hand and put it back in his belt. In his other hand, he held a long rope that was tied to the nearby clock tower.

"Cutting it real close," I said to him sarcastically.

"Obviously not close enough," Jack snapped back.

"You're mad.” I smiled at him gleefully.

"Thank goodness for that, because if I wasn't, this would probably never work," he said and grabbed me with his free hand.

The guards were moving in on us, but Jack quickly ran along the platform and jumped off, taking me with him. He was screaming as he was flying through the air on the rope. I hugged him tight and pressed my face into his chest. I gripped at his white puffy shirt and watched fearfully as the ground moved quickly beneath us. Once we were over the water, he let go and we plummeted into the sea.

We swam back up and we gasped for air. I looked over at the bluff and saw the guards were shaking their fists at us. Then, they positioned their guns in our direction.

"Don't breathe," Jack ordered. I did exactly what he said with no question and he pushed my head under the water to protect me from the flying bullets. I opened my eyes and saw some bullets shoot through the water, and we both came back up.

I looked back at the guards and saw that they were reloading their guns. Jack quickly helped me get to the Pearl, which was waiting for us.

As soon as I came up on deck, Gibbs handed me a stiff blanket and Jack his coat. I wrapped the blanket around my shoulders, trying to hide the white chemise that they put me in. It was now see-through. This is why I only wear dark clothes.

I walked up to Jack and stood beside him. I looked out at the port for a moment before I allowed myself to complain about the situation. "Not only is my father dead, but I was refused compensation for it."

Jack smiled at me devilishly. "Not quite."

I tilted my head at him in confusion, and I felt my wet dreadlocks slip up my bare arm. Jack opened up his dry linen coat and pulled out a scroll. He handed it to me, and when I unrolled the paper I saw that it was a map.

I even stated, "it's a map."

"I swiped it from the judges room," Jack told me with a grin.

I squinted at him a little as I tried to figure out what he knew that I didn't. I brought my attention back to the map and read it over. The handwriting was far too recognizable to me. It's my fathers handwriting.

I noticed some words at the bottom so I adjusted the angle of the map so I could read it. "My dearest Bethesda. If you are reading this, it means The Company finally did me in. Use this map to guide you to my fortune. Although we have estranged during these last few years, I trust that you will be able to follow this map to my treasure. You are a pirate, after all. I love you, and may we meet again."

My eyes widened when I realized that my father hid his entire fortune for me to find. He left this map for me because he knew that I would be the only person who could solve it and find his money. Since I'm a pirate and his daughter, I can crack his code.

I looked up at Jack and said, "he knew."

Jack grinned. "We have our heading, darling."

I smiled back as I rolled the scroll back up to protect it. "Here we go."

I cleared my throat and shouted at the crew in a commanding way, "toss the lines! Weigh anchor, and make sail! I want movement!"

The crew ran off to obey my commands. We sailed off, on our way to find the Fortune of John Wanderlust.

Chapter 28: Pirates of the Caribbean: Wheelchair

Chapter Text

Narrator's POV

Lydia Walding was an English woman, popular amongst the pirates that parade around the port for her second-nature to steal for them. She was well-known through the port of Tortuga, but for a unique reason.

When Lydia was born, her mother died during childbirth. The inexperienced midwife mishandled the newborn, accidentally paralyzing her from the waist down. She has no use of her legs, and cannot feel them. She gets around using a wheelchair. It's one of the first things that people notice about her. Using a wheelchair is her normal, and she understands that it is not everyone else's normal. Her arms are incredibly strong from using them to push her wheelchair everyday.

One day, Lydia was going down the cobblestone streets of Tortuga where she was committing one of her favorite acts: stealing. She just loves to steal things. She usually hides her loot in her skirt and no one ever suspects her.

On this particular outing, she was going down the street when a pirate was about to walk passed her. That pirate was none other than Captain Jack Sparrow. The young woman subtly reached over and grabbed some gold coins out of his pocket.

"Oi!" He shouted. Lydia quickly stuck the coins into the pocket of her skirt and kept rolling.

The pirate was soon walking right beside her, glaring. "Hey! Them don't belong to you. Hand 'em over." He stuck out his hand.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Lydia said daintily.

She kept rolling, and she almost fell out of her chair when it suddenly stopped. Lydia looked down and saw that the pirate had stuck a broomstick through the spikes of the wheel so she couldn't move.

She glared up at him, and he had his hand out. "If you please."

"No. I didn't take anything," Lydia lied.

But the jolt from stopping caused the coins to spill out of her pocket and clamor to the ground. She clenched her jaw and kept her dark eyes on the pirate, pretending like she didn't notice while his eyes darted down to the ground.

"You lied," he hissed.

"Did not. Those aren't mine."

"Those aren't yours?" He didn't believe her.

"Nope," she popped the p.

"I'm a pirate, darling. You shouldn't lie to pirates. I don't care if you are in a wheelchair, you're not getting away with this."

"But I'm in a wheelchair, you can't hurt me," Lydia sneered to play the victim card.

"Then I'll make this a fair fight," he said and clenched his fist and put it up to her eye level. "Roll into this."

Someone was walking past, so Lydia reached over and grabbed his sword from his belt and brandished it to Jack. He jumped back, and grabbed his own. Without breaking eye contact, she gripped the broom handle and slid it out from her wheels before tossing it off to the side.

They began sword fighting, and Jack scratched her leg with the tip of his blade. Lydia has no feeling below her hips, so she didn't even notice until he wouldn't stop looking at the blood that soaked through her petticoat and her skirt.

"What's the matter with you?" He asked while his sword balanced loosely in his hand.

"I can't feel it," Lydia revealed.

"Oh.” He shrugged and gripped the handle again and swung it at Lydia.

They kept fighting, going down the port. People were jumping out of their way, trying not to get sliced by the swords or accidentally get run over by Lydia's wheels. Jack was impressed by her skills, and he quickly realized that he should never have underestimated her because of her disability.

"You're quite the opponent," he said as their swords clashed together. Lydia took a jab at his stomach but he jumped away just in time. Jack lunged forward and their swords crossed, and Jack pushed Lydia until her chair rolled and hit a building. She groaned, but kept both hands on her sword. He leaned in to say, "I have half a mind to tie your hands behind your back and push you into the ocean."

"That would kill me," Lydia said and pushed him off.

Lydia had become a professional at steering her wheelchair with one hand, and fighting Jack with the other. From her years of being in the chair, she had picked up a few tips and tricks on going backwards and how to make sharp turns. She even bounced the sword between her hands to be able to properly steer herself.

They continued, with no end in sight. Jack brought his sword down on her arm, and his blade cut through her sleeve. She winced at the pain but gripped the sword tighter.

He smirked when he saw her pained expression. Chillingly, he asked, “you feel that, don't you?"

"Do you feel this?" Lydia asked and was able to slice at his forearm.

Jack wheezed and gripped his tan arm and saw the blood that transferred to his palm. He stared daggers at Lydia and quickly realized that she was not going to go down without a fight, and he really wasn't in the mood to lose. He took a step back. "Wait a minute."

Lydia was deaf by rage as she took another swing at Jack.

Jack blocked it and said again, "wait a minute."

Lydia took another swing, which Jack blocked again. This time he screamed, "wait a minute!"

Lydia froze with her arm raised and ready to attack again. Her expression cooled and she looked at Jack with her eyebrows raised as she waited.

Jack chuckled softly, "what are we doing? I could use someone like you on me ship."

"You have a ship?" She asked doubtfully.

"Aye," Jack said and put his sword away. "If you trust me, I'll take you to it."

Lydia eyed Jack suspiciously, but agreed. She placed the sword on her lap, and Jack came up behind her. He gripped the handlebars of her wheelchair and began pushing her toward the dock.

"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow," he introduced.

"Lydia Walding."

Jack pushed her toward the docks and was inching the closer and closer to the water. Lydia noticed this and she gripped the arm rests of her wheelchair and looked over her shoulder to Jack. She said firmly, "don't even think about it."

Jack chuckled at his little joke and started to push her further away from the water. "I'm not, I'm not, I'm not. No need to be frightened. You're one of us now, love."

Jack smiled cheekily to himself as they got closer and closer to the Pearl.

Chapter 29: 21 Jump Street: Best of Both Worlds

Chapter Text

1989

I was sitting in my dressing room, applying my favorite bright pink lipstick before my concert. My vanity was completely covered in aerosol cans of hairspray, fake lashes, bobby pins, hot curlers, perfume bottles, a variety of hair combs, and lots of makeup. I was basically sitting in a cloud of powder. I fixed my rag bleach blonde hair, which I had teased and covered in Aqua-Net hairspray in a rocker style.

I remember the first time I heard my song on the radio, and I almost crashed my car. Now, I'm singing for sold out shows all over the country. I am so thankful for everyone who has gotten me to where I am today.

My dressing room door squeaked open and my bodyguard, Shane, popped his head in and said, "the officers are here."

"Okay, send them in," I said as I looked at him through the mirror with a polite smile. I grabbed a little fabric square and pressed my lips to it to blot the excess pigment off. Shane let in two guys and closed the door behind them.

I smiled at them through the mirror and turned around in my chair. I had a robe on to protect my outfit, and I crossed my legs. "Hi," I greeted.

"Hi," they both said at the same time.

They both seemed a little nervous. The shorter one smiled at me close-lipped, and rocked back and forth on his heels. His brown hair was on the longer side, with a side parting with floppy, swept-back fringe. He had long layers on top with tapered sides and back. It looked a little disheveled by the way how some parts were pushed back and others hung forward. I really loved his hair. And his face. Damn, he was really cute.

The taller one reminded me of a teddy bear. He was bigger and had a little bit of dark stubble on his chin. His hair reminded me a little of James Dean's pompadour style but longer, and he had a dangly earring that glistened under the lights.

The taller one cleared his throat and said, "I'm Officer Doug Penhall and this is Officer Tom Hanson."

"Hi," Tom said again, still smiling and gave me a small wave.

"Hi, I'm Zoey, nice to meet you both.” I grinned at them.

"You know why we're here, right?" Doug asked and shoved his hands into his pockets.

When I was told that officers were going to be assigned to me, I wasn't picturing guys my age. I assumed that they were going to be older, have mustaches, and be wearing uniforms. These guys were dressed like regular people. I wasn't picturing them to be hot either.

"I do.” I nodded. "Someone threatened to kill me so you're here to protect me, right?"

"Yep, you got it," Doug said and gave me finger guns. Tom's eyes widened and he put his hand on the finger-guns and brought them down, which made me giggle. Doug tried to try to recover from his awkward gesture by asking, "so, do you come to Metro often?"

Tom nudged him with his elbow. He mumbled, "you can't ask her that."

I laughed and said, "no, it's okay. Yeah, sometimes."

I was actually born and raised in Metro. Not very many people know that, and I like to keep my personal life a secret from the rest of the world. I was so excited that Metro was the first city on my tour list. I was told that these two cops were going to follow me to every venue, so we didn't have to assign different cops from every city we stayed in.

My door squeaked open again and a girl who worked at the venue stepped in. She tapped her clipboard and said, "Zoey, you're on in 5 minutes."

"Okay, thanks," I said to her and she closed the door.

I slipped my robe off to reveal my outfit for the night. A blue cropped leather jacket with fringe over a cheetah print dress. I had tightened my black belt with silver studs, and stood in front of my vanity to put on black leather bracelets that resemble a cuff, and a black braided rope bracelet.

I checked myself out in the mirror first to make sure that everything was in place, and I walked to the door. The attractive officers followed directly behind me as I walked down the hall, and other people began to surround me to make sure I was set for the concert. They began chattering amongst themselves and to me and into their headsets.

"All right, talent is on her way," someone said into their headset.

Tom came up beside me and said, "we are going to be just off stage the whole time, you don't have to worry about anything."

Doug added, "just go out there and do your thing. We'll take care of the rest."

"Thanks," I said to them. I was a little too focused on the concert to give them a proper response, but I'd be sure to talk to them again later.

Someone gave me my ear monitor and I put it into my ear. I hid it by fluffing my hair over my shoulder, and I blew a raspberry to shake my usual pre-concert jitters out.

I approached the center of the stage, but I was underground. I was escorted to a little plate and given my microphone.

"Watch your head!" My manager said. Kyle is my manager, he handles everything. He is one of my dads best friends, so I've known him my whole life. I put my trust into him every day.

I looked back at everyone, and locked eyes with Tom. He gave me a supportive smile, and I instinctively smiled back. I could melt in his dark eyes. I'd definitely like to see more of him.

"Zo-ey! Zo-ey! Zo-ey!" I heard chanting.

"Don't forget, we changed your set.Summer of Tomorrowis first, thenHazy August, and then it'sCaptain. Got it?" Kyle reminded me.

"I remember.” I smiled at him.

"Great.” He smiled back. Into his walkie-talkie, he said, "send her up."

The plate began to rise. I stood up and struck my pose as I made it up onto the stage. There were so many bright lights, it almost blinded me. I could barely see the sea of people surrounding the stage, but I could hear them.

"How are we all doing tonight?" I called out into the microphone.

The entire sold-out stadium cheered back to me. I looked around, amazed by how many people love and support me. I love my job. I get to experience this every weekend.

"All right, I've got a special song I want to start out for you guys, it's calledSummer of Tomorrow!"

The entire stadium erupted in roars of cheers and screams.

In my ear piece, I heard someone backstage say, "all right, Zoey.Summer of August. 1...2...3...4..." followed by the annoying tick of a metronome to help me stay on beat, while the speakers flooded the venue with my music.

I began belting out the first verse of my pop-rock song, running up and down the stage to hold the hands of my amazing fans and trying to give them the most energetic performance I could. Rocking out during the show is where I feel the most alive. I kept getting distracted because Tom and Doug were standing backstage, watching my every move. But I'm a professional, I didn't let it distract me too much.

After the concert, I managed to slip back into my dressing room without bumping into anyone. I didn't even see Doug or Tom. My dad and Kyle and I are always very firm that I cannot be bothered after my concerts.

I had requested a hot tea be put in my room before my concert was over. When I got inside, I took the tea from the table and sat on the sofa. I was sipping the hot liquid, letting it coat my throat. I love drinking tea after concerts because it helps my voice tremendously for the next show.

I heard the doorknob turn and I bolted my head up. Officers Tom and Doug both walked in and shut the door behind them.

"Hey," I said and cleared my throat. I usually don't like anyone being near me after my concerts, but I gave them an exception. One, they were cute, and two, they were protecting me from someone who threatened to kill me.

"You looked good out there. You looked real good," Tom said in a soft voice.

"Thank you.” I smiled gently. I spoke softly so I wouldn’t strain my voice more than I already have.

"We didn't see any suspicious activity today," Doug reported.

"That's good."

The door opened again and in came my dad. He looked at Tom and Doug angrily and then he said, "listen, Zoey has had a long day and she really can't have anyone in here after her concerts—"

"No, Dad, they aren't fans. They're officers," I explained.

"Oh, for the threats?" He asked.

"Yes, sir. We are going to go to every show until we catch the guy," Doug reassured.

"Good. I hope it's soon," he said.

"Me too," Tom said.

"Wait, are you guys coming on the tour bus with us?" Dad asked. He looked at me with a cock of his eyebrow.

"No, Kyle has it all set up. They're gonna be flying out," I told him.

"Yeah, we've got things to do at the beginning of the week. All to make sure that Zoey stays safe," Tom said.

"Well, we gotta go. We will see you next weekend in California, okay?" Doug asked.

"Okay. Bye, guys," I said with a gentle wave and they left.

I finally relaxed my face for the first time in hours. I set the warm mug down on the table and headed over to my suitcase and grabbed my comfy clothes to change into.

Dad said, “they really shouldn’t be in here.”

“It’s fine, they’re just doing their job.”

“I know… but I don’t want them to think they can be in here whenever they want.”

“I’ll just have to be more careful,” I said.

When I came out and started putting my stuff away, my dad asked, "ready to go?"

I grabbed my hair and pulled it off my head, revealing a wig cap. I placed my beloved wig in a bag and put it in my suitcase, along with the wig cap. I began removing the pins that were keeping my brown braided hair in place, and put those away as well.

"Yeah," I said as I unbraided my hair. "Let's go."

“What if they walk into your dressing room and your wig is off? How are you going to explain that?”

I hate the paparazzi. I said, “we will figure it out.”

Zoey is not my real name. I've been living this double life ever since I was a freshman in high school. It's been a tough eight years, keeping this secret, but I wouldn't trade my life for anything.

I created Zoey Vance in 1981 because I wanted to share my music and sing for the world, but I've seen what fame does to people. I've seen the drama, the drugs, and the pain and I didn't want that. I wanted my privacy, my freedom, and real relationships. I wanted to be an ordinary girl. Living two lives is a little weird, but it's worked out great. I can be out doing normal things, and no one knows who I am.

I disguise myself as Zoey Vance by using a blonde wig. I use makeup to lighten my eyebrows, and Zoey's style is being a rock star. It's weird seeing myself on the covers of magazines when I'm walking through shops. Who would have thought that a girl like me could double as a superstar?

They are both my authentic self, but I was born Sienna Yost. I have dark brown hair, and dark eyes. I was born and raised in Metro, and I was accepted into the Metro State University four years ago to study biology. I graduate this year, and I'm incredibly proud of myself. The only people who know my secret is my family, my manager, and my best friend, Gina.

Anyways, that's why my dad looked at me funny when he asked if the officers were joining us on the tour bus. We aren't traveling by tour bus, but everyone thinks we are. I have school, so I'll be in Metro during the week then fly out to the next venue and then fly back home the next day. I've been drinking a lot of coffee lately.

The next day, I was waiting in the hallway of one of the buildings at the university to wait for my professor to unlock the door. I was talking to Gina about last night. I was holding my chemistry textbook to my chest as we whispered to avoid anyone hearing us.

"These cops work for the Metro Police Department, and oh boy, they were so so cute. You should have seen them," I told her dreamily. She has come to plenty of my concerts, but couldn't come to the one last night because her grandparents were visiting. She was the one who helped me pick the wig. It was the only one that looked natural on me.

"I wish I was there," Gina pouted. She glanced down the hallway and said, "oh my god, have you seen those guys?"

I followed her eyes and immediately saw who she was looking at. My jaw dropped when I saw two familiar looking guys talking to our professor.

"They walked right past me when I was waiting for you. Said their names are Tom Lloyd and Doug West. I guess they're new students, but they are so hot."

"Tom and Doug?" I asked and looked back at Gina with wide eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Positive. Why?" She asked.

I lowered my voice and said, "those were the cops from last night."

Her jaw dropped. “You're joking."

"I literally have never been more serious in my life," I said.

"Holy shit," she said.

"Yeah," I agreed.

"What are you going to do?"

"Keep my distance. I don't want them to know who I am," I said.

“Do you think they’ll figure it out?”

”I don’t want to take any chances.”

The professor finally opened the doors and me and all my classmates that have been waiting flooded in. It's not one of the big lecture halls, unfortunately, it's a small classroom.

Gina sat beside me, and I sat on the end so no one else could sit next to me. I bounced my pencil in my hand anxiously and couldn't stop shaking my leg. I looked down and ran my fingers through my hair when Tom and Doug walked through the door. I couldn’t stop staring at them. It was like my worlds were colliding.

Once everyone was sitting, the professor greeted everyone and said, "today, we are going to study for the exam we have next class. I've assigned buddies to you."

He began listing off the partners, and despite my inner chanting and manifesting, I was given the only partner I did not want.

"Sienna Yost and Tom Lloyd."

My heart dropped to my stomach as I pretended to glance around the room, as if I didn't know he was sitting two rows in front of me. Tom turned around and gave me a soft smile when our eyes met.

As the professor gave everyone else their partners, everyone started to shuffle around the room. Gina got up and whispered, "good luck," before she moved her to partner.

Tom took her spot and scooted his chair closer to mine. We had small writing surfaces attached to the chairs that acted like desks. I kept my cool, and I tried not to look at him in the eye. But I would recognize those cheekbones anywhere. This is definitely Officer Tom Hanson. Why was he here?

"I'm Tom," he introduced.

"Sienna, nice to meet you," I said. I looked down at the paper my professor had just given to me and wrote my name down on it. I tried not to touch the paper because I could feel the pads of my fingers sweating so much.

Halfway through class, Tom asked me, "hey, do you know anything about Zoey Vance?"

I swear, my heart physically stopped. I looked up at Tom and pretended to act dumb. "Zoey Vance? Oh, the singer?"

"Yeah."

"No, not really. Why?"

He rested his head against his hand with his elbow propped up on the desk and he said, "you kinda remind me of her. You got the same eyes."

My breath got caught in my throat so I tried to change the subject a little. "She performed around here over the weekend, didn't she?"

"Yeah, she did."

"That's cool. Did you go?"

He froze for a moment before he answered, "no, I didn't."

"Neither did I," I chuckled awkwardly.

Tom dropped the conversation and we continued with our assignment. I kept getting distracted though. I don't think he recognized me, which eased my anxiety but I've never had this close of a call before.

Tom and I exchanged numbers so I could help him study for the exam. We hung out a little throughout the week, and he never mentioned my alter-ego again. Thank god.

The next weekend, my dad and I flew out to southern California for my next concert. I didn't want Gina to come in case Tom or Doug recognized her from class, but I promised her that I would call and let her know if anything happened.

I ended up calling her from the airport as soon as we landed, because Doug and Tom were on the same flight as us. As Sienna, Tom would totally recognize me. Luckily, they were a few seats behind us and I pretended to dig through my bag when they walked past so they didn't see me. I told my dad that the officers were going to my school, and he told me to lay low.

It was the same routine as the week before. Tom and Doug met me at my dressing room, and followed me out to the stage. They kept their eyes glued on me the whole time, and I was never out of their sight.

Once my show was over, I waited in my dressing room for them. Once they finally came, I decided to test them to see if they would reveal why they were at my university.

I took a sip of my tea and asked, "are you boys free on Monday afternoon?"

"No," Tom replied.

"Why not?" I asked.

Doug and Tom exchanged looks before Tom answered in a low voice, "because we have tracked the guy threatening you to a university in Evergreen state."

"What university?" I asked cluelessly.

"Metro State University. We are working undercover over there to catch the guy. Don't tell anyone though."

"Oh," I said. I finally realized why they were there under fake names. They were undercover. That's hot.

"Yeah," Doug said.

I smirked as I grabbed Tom's hand and a nearby pen. I started to write my phone number on his palm. "If you ever get out of it, give me a call."

I have two different numbers, one for Sienna and one for Zoey. He now had both of them.

He smiled back at me. “Will do."

Doug and Tom left, and I was able to strip off Zoey in peace.

Tom's POV

Doug and I left and as soon as the door closed and we began walking down the hall, Doug turned to me with his jaw dropped to the floor. I looked down at my hand and saw her number written in black pen across my palm.

Doug almost squealed, "you got her number?!"

"Yeah," I said. I was still stunned.

"You have to call her!"

"I will, geez. I can't be desperate."

"Zoey fricking Vance gave you her number. I can't believe it."

"Lower your voice, will you?" I asked and put my hands in my pockets.

"Dude, she's so hot."

"Shut up," I said. We kept walking out of the venue and I said, "but there's that girl at Metro State..."

"Who?" Doug asked.

"In the chemistry class. Sienna. I really like her, man."

Doug groaned, "dude. Would you rather have hot rock star Zoey Vance, or nerdy chemistry partner Sienna?"

I exhaled roughly and said, "I like her, don't get me wrong, but Zoey just seems a little too forward in my opinion."

"She's famous, Hanson. She's supposed to be forward."

"Yeah, I guess," I said and grabbed my car keys from my pocket when we opened the venue doors to the dark of the night.

"You're still gonna call her though, right?" Doug asked.

"Of course. I'm not an idiot," I said and unlocked my car.

We both opened the doors and swung in. After I started the car, I drove us to our hotel for the night. My head was bouncing full of pros and cons of both girls. There was something about both of them that I couldn't shake, but I could not stop thinking about Sienna.

Sienna's POV

Back at school, Tom ran into me right outside of the chemistry building. He opened the door for me, and I thanked him.

I wanted to see if I could get him to tell me he was a cop. I asked, "what made you transfer here in the middle of the semester?"

He shrugged. “Got tired of my old school I guess."

"I hope you stay around longer at this one.” I felt myself blush softly.

"Yeah?" He grinned.

"Yeah." I smiled.

Suddenly, some kid came rushing by us with Doug right on his heels. Tom excused himself and ran to catch up with them, and they tackled the student to the ground. They flashed him their badges, and promptly arrested him.

People were surrounding the fiasco that was unfolding before our eyes, and I was one of those people. Tom was breathing heavy as he kept a firm hold of the guy’s wrists behind his back, making sure he wasn’t going to get back up. I didn’t know what to do, but I stayed and watched it all go down while students were trying to figure out what was going on.

Once the student was carried away by uniformed cops, I ran up to Tom and I pulled him into an empty classroom. I felt breathless as I said, "that's one of the most badass things I've ever seen."

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way," Tom said and showed me his badge. "I'm a cop, Sienna. I’m not really a student here, and I have to go now."

I couldn't help myself. I've been spending time with him as both myself and as Zoey, and I was falling for him. He was so incredibly kind, thoughtful, and devilishly handsome. I pulled him into a kiss, and I felt his hands rest against my waist.

When we pulled apart, he chuckled softly, "or, I could stay a little longer."

I laughed and held his face in my hands as I pulled him in again. He stumbled back until he legs hit a desk and I laced my fingers around the back of his neck. Our lips fit together perfectly, and he pulled me in even closer.

"Tom... there's something I want to tell you," I said when my lips were on his. I already knew that Kyle and my dad were going to kill me for this, but it’s my world. Not theirs.

He tilted his head down and began planting sweet kisses on my neck and jaw. He mumbled, "what?"

"I—" I froze. I wanted to tell him that I was Zoey, but I couldn't. My words caught in my throat and I couldn't bring myself to say it. "Never mind." I nudged his chin with my finger to bring him back up to my lips.

Tom began to make a soft moan with his throat, which made me fall into him more. When I heard the moan turn into something more like a groan, I pulled away.

His voice was husky as he said, "I'm sorry. You don't know how much I want to stay, but I really have to go. I have to make a report before my boss flips his shit."

I leaned back on my heels and looked up at Tom, into his deep brown eyes. They were certainly full of regret.

"Fine," I said. I completely understood, more than he knew.

"I'll see you again soon, and we will pick up where we left off. All right?"

I smiled at him. “Okay."

I walked with Tom out the door, and he kissed my cheek goodbye before we split off so I could head to my next class and he could go back to work. After school, I went home and my dad told me that Kyle called, and scheduled a meeting for me to meet with Tom and Doug in just an hour.

I raced to my room and rushed to get ready. I quickly rummaged through my closet and grabbed a black graphic t-shirt of The Runaways that I pulled over my head and a pair of baggy light-wash jeans that I accessorized with a couple of black belts. I didn’t have time to braid my hair, so I bundled it up on top of my head and slipped the wig on, loosely pinning it in place. If I’m just sitting and talking, it won’t budge. I styled it, closer to the way that I style my natural hair with soft curls with some teasing for volume. I put on some light makeup, since this was a meeting and not a concert.

I drove as fast as I could to my managers office. I parked in the back and grabbed my leather jacket from the back seat before I walked to the building and I let myself in through the back door. I greeted everyone I passed, and they returned it with smiles and waves. I know everyone's name in that office, and they don't get star-struck when I walk through the door anymore. I came here once as myself, and no one even glanced in my direction.

I knocked on my managers office door, and he let me in. Tom and Doug were sitting in chairs waiting for me, but they both stood up when I entered. I closed the door behind me and Tom offered me the empty seat next to him.

"Hi, guys.” I smiled at them.

"Hi, Zoey," Tom said softly.

Doug only nodded in my direction.

"These officers have something positive they wanted to share with you," Kyle said from his chair behind the desk.

"We have caught the man making the threats toward you," Tom announced.

"Oh, that's great news," I said. I had to act surprised, even though I literally saw them make the arrest. I’ve been thinking about it all day.

"He was attending Metro State University. He has his trial in court later in the month," Doug told me.

"I appreciate everything you two have done for me. I wish you could still come to my concerts. I’m going to miss you as my shadows." I smiled.

Kyle handed them both envelopes with concert tickets to any show they want to attend during the rest of my tour. I even offered to fly them out on my dime, which they greatly appreciated.

We all stood up and we shook each other's hands in our goodbye. Now that this whole nightmare was over, and me being Sienna was blooming a relationship with Tom, I didn't want there to be any secrets towards us.

I asked, "hey, Tom, can you stay here a minute?"

He stayed and everyone else left. I walked over to the door and I quickly locked it.

"What's up, Zoey?" He asked.

"Are you seeing anyone?" I asked him. I took a step closer, and he looked down at me with his beautiful eyes. When I’m Zoey, I feel this strong sense of confidence that I don’t have when I’m Sienna.

"I am," he said and leaned back slightly. There was a glisten in his eyes, which almost made me think that he figured out who I was, but he didn't say anything. I wished he would just say it so I didn't have to tell him. That way, it’s not my fault.

"Can I just show you how much I appreciate what you've done for me?" I asked flirtatiously.

"Listen, I really like you but I'm involved," he said. "It's not right." One thing that I really liked about him, was that he wasn't going to cheat on me with me.

"Oh, with Sienna?" I asked.

His eyebrows furrowed together and he asked, "how do you know her?"

There was something about Tom that made him so trusting. Maybe because I've spent so much of my time with him lately, I felt like I could tell him anything. And he is a police officer, there must be some sort of confidentiality agreement.

"You have to promise not to tell anyone," I said.

"I promise."

That was enough to talk me into it. I gently pulled off my wig and watched his jaw drop as I ran my fingers through my hair to fluff it out. "I am Sienna."

He kept looking me up and down in disbelief, and his look of shock transformed into pure happiness. "I could recognize those eyes anywhere. Have I ever told you I have a thing for brunettes?"

"You won't tell my secret, right?" I asked and placed my wig on Kyle's desk.

"Oh my honor," he promised. He crossed his heart with his finger and lifted it up.

We sealed his promise with a kiss.

I really do get the best of both worlds.

Chapter 30: Talk Show: Pirates of the Caribbean

Chapter Text

Y/N’s POV

I could hear Frida Coleman's hosting voice as she was beginning to introduce me in front of a live studio audience, and cameras that were broadcasting my interview to millions of people across the nation. I looked down at my freshly manicured hands, anxiously cracking my knuckles as I waited for my cue.

"... I am very pleased to welcome, for the very first time on my show, Y/N."

I stepped out onto the stage, internally reminding myself not to trip over my shoes. My monochrome outfit complimented my skin tone perfectly, curtesy of my talented stylist. I tilted my head up so I could see the audience who roared in a welcoming applause. My smile was instant, and I lifted my hand up to wave at everyone.

I walked over to the couch right beside Frida's designated chair, and she greeted me with a hug. I waved again at the audience as their applause died down and I was able to sit down. I could feel my palms sweating, so I tried not to look at the cameras to ease my anxiety.

"You look absolutely stunning," she complimented.

"Thank you, so do you. I love those earrings," I said truthfully.

"Why, thank you. I got them from a thrift shop in New York." She smiled widely. "I'm so excited to have you on my show."

"I'm happy to have been invited," I chuckled, and the audience laughed with me.

"So, we just played the trailer forPirates of the Caribbean: Blue Bayou Lagoon, and I think I can speak for everyone to say that we are so excited for the sixth installment of the franchise. Isn't that right?"

The entire audience once again broke out in applause and cheers in agreement. I blushed and chuckled until they stopped.

"You know, I'm really excited too. It's full of adventure, swashbuckling pirates, and it was so much fun to film. If I could do the entire experience again, I would in a heartbeat."

"Tell us about your character," Frida said.

"I play Marina Teague, Jack Sparrow's estranged daughter. I'm introduced in a super fun way, and—I don't want to spoil anything—but she's super funny and I think everyone who watches the movie will just fall in love with her," I said with my brightest smile. Just the memories I obtained from filming that movie will live with me forever.

"If she's played by you, I know we will fall in love with her. I know that I was super excited to find out that Jack Sparrow has a daughter. Not only is this your firstPiratesfilm, but this is your very first film, ever, right?" Frida asked.

"Yep, first film—" I was interrupted with cheers. I didn't mind though. I smiled out to the crowd, in absolute disbelief that this is my life. I never dreamed I'd be sitting on Frida Coleman's couch, answering questions in front of millions of people. This was a dream come true. When the audience was silent again, I continued, "—I have never acted before so it was certainly intimidating."

"Tell us how you got the part. I mean, I'm sure lots of big names were auditioning."

"I was actually on vacation in Los Angeles at the time they were casting, and I got terribly lost. I accidentally stumbled into the building where they were doing the auditions, but I didn't know it at the time. I went up to the front desk and the lady there immediately asked if I was there for the auditions. Before I could say no, the casting director literally walked through the door and just froze. He looked at me, and I looked at him. He asked if I was there to audition and before I could tell him that I was just lost, I was pulled into a room with a ton of other people and was given a part of the script."

"For the audition?" Frida asked for clarification.

"Yeah. They asked if I had ever acted before, and I hadn't so I told them the truth. They didn't care. They made me read the part, and later I got a call saying I got a callback. That felt like a sign I should really try for it. I had a chemistry read with a few other cast mates, then I found out I got it."

"That's incredible," Frida said with a beaming face.

I nodded. “Talk about being at the right place at the right time. It's funny, because I didn't even realize that it was for a Piratesmovie at first."

"How?" Frida chuckled.

"So, I'm sitting in front of the casting directors and stuff and I'm reading the highlighted lines for the character, Marina, and there's a line where someone says, 'drink up me hearties yo-ho', and I froze. I remember looking up at them and asking, 'this is for Pirates, isn't it?'"

The crowd laughed and I continued while trying not to laugh myself, "and they didn't even answer me! They just said, 'finish the line'."

The audience again broke out in laughter, and it felt good that I was coming across as funny and not nervous and off-putting. I was incredibly nervous. I could still feel my heart pounding out of my chest, but I think I was doing a good job of playing it cool. I don’t want people getting the wrong impression of me.

"What was being in a costume like that like?" Frida asked.

"Like being in a dream. An absolute dream. I've always loved the movies and Jack, and having the opportunity to portray the daughter of such an iconic character was unbelievable. They used some movie magic to give me more of Johnny's nose and lots of makeup to make me look dirty and piratey. But I think it turned out really cool. I had to wear special contact lenses that acted like sunglasses so I wasn't squinting under the sun the whole time. My hair is (h/c) and they gave me a thick wig to make me look a little more like Jack, but I'm glad they left a lot of me in the character as well—" the screen behind us changed from Frida's talk show logo to a promotional picture of me in the costume so my voice dropped and I said, "—oh boy, there I am."

In the picture, I'm recreating a photo of Johnny as Jack Sparrow from the first film. I'm wearing feminine pirate attire, facing the camera with a small grin pulling my lips. I have one hand resting on the handle of the sword at my hip, and my other hand is holding a pistol up by my chest. I could still feel how hot and itchy that heavy wig was, but I wouldn't change anything about my experience.

"You look great!" Frida complimented, but I couldn't stop staring at the (e/c) eyes looking back at me. The audience laughed as I chuckled and moved my hand up to jokingly shield the giant photo from my eyes.

"Thank you." I smiled and put my hand down and crossed my legs.

"In the movie, you're an English-woman. How did you perfect the accent?" Frida asked.

"This has a little bit of a backstory to it," I chuckled.

"We love stories."

"Good, because I like telling them," I laughed. "I'll tell the short version. I watched every singleHarry Potter, Lord of the Rings,andPiratesmovie, and every episode of that British dating showLove Islandone year with my family. We watched every single one, back to back to back. That's like... over 1,000 hours of listening to only English accents. It was so long, that I started thinking in an English accent."

The crowd laughed.

"I'm serious. So when I found out I got the part, I hired a vocal coach to help me perfect the accent, and I watched those movies again over and over until I got to set. Then being around everyone speaking in the accent made it much easier," I finished.

"That's amazing. You really fooled me, I was half-expecting you to have the accent when you showed up for my show. Is there any behind the scenes stuff you can tell us about?"

I chuckled to myself and said, "as we mentioned, this was my first acting gig. Ever. I've never performed in front of cameras or anything so I was super nervous. I remember the first time walking on set, and being absolutely speechless. Even meeting my co-stars was intimidating. Like Kevin, Stephen, Alexander, Bill, and Johnny—who have been playing these amazing characters for years—decades even, and then there's me, a complete newbie, moving in on their little film family."

"I can imagine that that's intimidating," Frida agreed.

"Luckily, I was able to meet Johnny before filming began, and he is hands-down one of the kindest people I have ever met in this business. He really cared about me and made sure I was comfortable and he was just a really nice and genuine guy. Anyway, an important thing to know about me is that Johnny Depp is my biggest celebrity crush, no question."

"You and me both," she laughed, and the audience joined.

"And Jack Sparrow is one of my biggest fictional crushes. So working with Johnny on aPiratesmovie was an absolute dream come true, and a complete double whammy. But playing his daughter got me into some hot water because I kept blushing every time he talked to me—" the audience chuckled "—the director actually had to stop me to say, 'y/n, stop blushing. That's your father'."

The entire audience erupted in laughter at my embarrassing story. I couldn't even get embarrassed, because I thought it was hilarious too. Well, hilarious now. Very embarrassing at the time.

Frida laughed and said, "and we've got proof."

"Oh, no," I laughed and put my face in my hands to try to block the image.

The little television screen at the center of the stage showed us what was being broadcasted on the giant screen behind us so we don't have to turn our backs to see it. Right when the video started, I knew it was going to be a compilation of bloopers from the film.

It first showed a clip of when everyone was on the set of the ship, when I didn't know we were rolling. Kevin McNally, as Gibbs, was delivering a monologue on the deck of the ship but the cameraman focused on me in the background, trying to practice some of the sword choreography but the sword kept falling out of my hands. I dropped it about three times before I was yelled at to get out of the shot. The look on my face was priceless as I jumped backwards and disappeared from view. Then, the camera zoomed back out to Kevin as he looked back at me and laughed hysterically as the director called out, "cut!"

I hid my face in my hands as the audience laughed along with me, and I was trying so hard not to. I’m clearly not a professional.

The next clip played, and this time it was of my character Marina tied to the mast of the Black Pearl. I had sucked my cheeks in and I was puckering my lips like a fish over and over and over. Johnny was chanting, "Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear, Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair, Fuzzy Wuzzy wasn't fuzzy. No, by gosh, he wasn't, was he?" until the director yelled, "action," then you could see my face completely change into Marina Teague. My siren eyes looked dark as I gave Johnny, as Jack, my best scowl as Johnny immediately snapped into Jack.

Johnny, as Jack, said his line, "and why might you be gallivanting around on my ship?"

Me, as Marina, answered, "it seems as if... this is my ship and... you are just on my ship because that's what it is and..."

"Where's the sense in that?" Johnny adlibbed.

"Give me a moment, I'm trying to figure that out," I said. My lips twitched but no words came out because I had completely forgotten my line.

"Come on, love, spit it out." Johnny started laughing at me as my throat desperately tried to come up with something to fill the silence.

I finally gave up but I tried to recover by snaking my arm out from the ropes that was tied around me and grabbing my sword. The plastic sword accidentally flung from my belt and launched itself at Johnny.

I gasped and Johnny moved out of the way so he wasn't smacked in the face by the plastic blade. He tuned back to me with the dreadlocks from his wig swinging and he tried not to laugh as he said as Jack, "how dare you? How dare you?"

I could hear chuckling all around so I knew that we weren't going to use this take anyway. I joked, "my sword nearly picked Johnny's nose."

Johnny tried to hide his smile as he joked back, "I wouldn't mind it. Really, I'm up for anything."

I dropped the accent and apologized and asked, "I’m so sorry, can we start again?"

"Good idea. Don't worry," Johnny chuckled and grabbed the sword and shoved it into my belt for me. The crew behind the cameras laughed as we got back into position.

"I'll get it this time, I promise," I said and blew a raspberry from my lips.

The next clip played, but this time it was when I was on a beach with Johnny. The camera was only on my face as Jack said his line, "I never thought I would have found something more important than treasure."

"What?" I asked. In this part of the film, Marina just found out that Jack is her biological father, and she wasn't very happy about it.

"You, darling," he said.

My face got red, and the audience was cracking up already.Then, the director's voice interrupts the scene to say, "y/n, he is your father. You need to stop blushing."

Johnny started awkwardly laughing, along with the rest of the crew off-camera. Of course, I got super embarrassed but I laughed it off because I'm sure I'm not the first person to do this in front of him.

"I'm sorry, I can't help it," I had chuckled nervously.

"Don't imagine him as Johnny Depp. Imagine him as Jack Sparrow," someone off-camera had suggested.

I looked Johnny up and down and said, "that doesn't help me,"which made the audience laugh again.

"I don't imagine myself as me either," Johnny joked to me in a low voice.

We all caught our breaths and reset the scene, and we tried again.

I cupped my hand to my mouth to keep from snorting as I was laughing so hard. My heart was pulsing in my blushing face as I tried so hard not to cry from laughter. The screen turned back into the logo, so I took a tissue from the side table and dabbed my eyes so my makeup wouldn't get ruined. That wasn't even all of the bloopers, because they have only revealed the bloopers from scenes that are part of the trailer.

Frida had to take a second to breathe before she asked, "how do you feel seeing those?"

"I wonder how I wasn't fired," I chuckled.

"Is there anything else you can tell us about the movie?"

I put my hands on the knees of the fabric to try to dry off my palms and exhaled to get my bearings back. I finally said, "just to expect the unexpected. The film is full of twists and turns, and I can't wait for everyone to see it."

"Are there any other projects you're working on that we should be on the lookout for?"

I was prepared for this question, so I had to ask permission to answer truthfully. It was granted, so I said, "be on the lookout for anotherPiratesmovie."

"There's going to be a seventh installment?" Frida asked in surprise.

I nodded and smiled. “And I'm super excited for it. We start filming in October, and itis going to be amazing."

"That's all the time we have today. Thank you so much, Y/N, for coming onto my show. It was an absolute pleasure to have you," Frida said kindly.

"The pleasure was all mine, thank you so much for having me," I said. This interview went by so fast, I almost wished it wasn't over but I was relieved that it was so I didn't accidentally spoil anything, like how Geoffrey Rush returns to the film, even though his character, Barbossa, died in the fifth movie.

Frida turned her attention to the camera and the audience and said, "Pirates of the Caribbean: Blue Bayou Lagooncomes out in theaters next Friday. Up next we have Greta Van Halen and Paul McCartney so don't go anywhere!"

We kept our smiling pose to the cameras as the audience once again erupted in applause until the producer said, "and we are out."

Chapter 31: Alice in Wonderland: The M Word

Chapter Text

Narrator's POV— Reflection Part 2

When Alicia left again to go back to the mainland, Hatter became depressingly sad. His colors were dull, and he would always become soft-spoken until he could be with Alicia again. All of his friends could see how much he loved her. He never understood how his world would become so grey when she wasn't there. He was missing her more than ever.

His very dear friend, Alice, came by to visit and saw how down Hatter was feeling. This was very odd, considering he is the maddest and happiest person she knew. Alice has met Alicia many times in the past, and she knows how much Hatter cares for her.

One day, after the Red Queen and the White Queen had rekindled their relationship and Hatter was once again reunited with his family, Alice sat with Hatter at his tea table. He had his hat placed on the plate in front of him, and he poured her a cup of tea but his face was gloomy. Alice asked him calmly, "why are you still sad, Hatter?"

Hatter's orange hair was limp and his bowtie was droopy to express his sadness. He sighed and said, "it's Alicia. I just—I miss her so very much. I wish for her to meet my family, and stay in Underland with me for the rest of our days. I always hate when she goes back to the mainland. I cannot bare to be away from her any longer. There's an ache in my heart... have I gone mad?"

Alice leaned towards him and put the back of her hand against Hatter's forehead. He crossed his big green eyes to look at her hand. She took a moment and said, "I'm afraid that you're suffering from a broken heart. But I know of a remedy that works every time."

"What is it?" Hatter asked.

Alice took her hand back and said, "marriage."

"Marriage?" Hatter asked and made a humming sound with his lips. That was an M word he was unaware of. His big green innocent eyes grew wide and he asked, "what is that?"

"It's when two people love each other so much that they bind themselves to one another for the rest of their lives," Alice explained with a smile.

"Like..." Hatter asked and put his palms together in confusion. He thought she meant physically.

Alice said, "no. It is an announcement that you will be with your partner forever. It's a very popular custom on the mainland."

Hatter seemed to perk up a bit. All he wanted was to make Alicia happy, and if bringing a custom from her home into Underland would make her happy, he would do it without any question. He loved her, and he would follow her blindly. But, he cannot leave Underland.

He asked, "what must I do?"

"I'll talk to the White Queen and see if she will officiate. I'm certain that she would be more than happy to do it. All you must do is ask Alicia for her hand in marriage."

"How do I do that?" Hatter asked.

"Speak from your heart. You've got one, don't you?"

Hatter had a puzzled look on his face as he placed his hand on his chest and waited to feel the beat against his warm palm. He smiled up at Alice and said, "it's still ticking."

"Good. I'll be back. And give her a gift that she can have forever. Most men give their wives rings."

Hatter was about to tell her that he doesn't have a ring for Alicia, but Alice had to leave before he could say anything. Hatter sighed softly and grabbed his hat from the table. He twirled it and placed it on his head carefully, and he felt a twinge of nervousness in his chest. He had never felt that before.

The next time Alicia was able to visit Hatter in Underland was a week after she last visited. She gifted Hatter extra needles and thread to apologize for being gone for so long.

"Oh, no matter. Sit, sit." He gestured to a nearby overgrown mushroom. He held Alicia's hand and guided her to the red stool with white spots. She sat on the mushroom cap and Hatter stood in front of her with her hands in his. She felt the thick wool fabric of his fingerless gloves, and she gripped him tightly.

Hatter had asked everyone to respect their privacy, because he was already anxious. All of his friends obeyed his request, but they were hiding out in the trees, watching silently from afar.

Hatter had never done this before, nor seen anyone do this before so he wasn't sure how a proposal was supposed to go. He was so nervous, he couldn't stop smiling and shifting his feet. Alicia looked up at him with complete adoration, unsure of what was making him so antsy. She had never seen him like this.

Hatter let out a shaky breath and rubbed his thumbs gently against the back of Alicia's nimble hands. He could hear Alice's advice echo in his head, and he listened to her. When he looked into Alicia's dark eyes, all his fears fluttered away.

"There—there comes a time in a persons life when they find the soul they want to be bound to for all of eternity. Now, eternity is quite a long time but I don't think any amount of time would be enough time with you." Hatter looked down and he giggled to himself from his nervousness. He said with his gentle lisp, "oh, what is the hatter with me?"

Alicia smiled up at him kindly and said, "it's all right. Take your time."

Hatter looked down at Alicia and his eyes brightened. His hair curled up tightly and the vivid color brightened before her eyes. Even his bow tie sprung back to normal. He always becomes much happier when she was in his presence.

"This is a land was full of wonder, mystery, and danger. Some say, to survive it, you need to be as mad as a hatter. Which, luckily, I am," Hatter said with an uncontrollable cackle that always made Alicia smile.

Hatter pulled out the ring that he had made himself. He had taken his favorite gold thimble and cut it into a ring for Alicia to wear for the rest of her life to prove their love for each other. He made sure it was Alicia's size, and she could see the engraved pattern from the thimble around the band. He was very proud with how it turned out, and was very excited to give it to Alicia because it was something that meant a lot to both of them.

"Will you stay in Underland with me? Forever?" Hatter asked, holding the ring between his fingers.

Alicia's jaw dropped at his proposal. Her hands slipped from his and she brought her hands up to her gaping mouth. She blinked and a tear dropped to her finger, and she looked up at Hatter and stared into his eager eyes.

She knew that saying yes meant that she was going to have to leave everything she knew in the mainland. She wouldn't be able to go back. Underland would become her only home, but she was home wherever Hatter was.

Alicia dropped her hands to show off her bright smile. Hatter instantly smiled back and Alicia nodded. Her voice was brittle from her intense happiness and she said, "yes!"

Hatter's smile grew bigger and he took her hand and slipped the ring onto her finger, with help from Alicia to figure out the proper finger to put it on.

Alicia stood up from the mushroom stool and placed her hands gingerly on Hatter's pale cheeks and he pulled her into a kiss. Alicia could imagine the rest of her life with Hatter, and she couldn't be happier.

When they pulled away, Alicia asked, "will your friends accept me, even though I'm from the mainland?"

"We're all quite mad here. You'll fit right in," Hatter responded with a gap-toothed grin.

Alicia's face grew warm and she extended her hand out to admire the homemade ring. She couldn't wait to start the rest of her life with the Mad Hatter.

Chapter 32: 21 Jump Street: Close Call

Chapter Text

Tom's POV

Fuller gave me my assignment early this morning. After I read through it, I hopped into my car and drove straight to the university. Attractive brunette women—who are students—have been getting murdered at this particular university, and I was going undercover to figure out who the murderer is before he could kill someone else.

As soon as I got my class schedule, I found out that it was the first day of the new quarter so everyone was having to go to new classes. That was going to make my job just a little bit harder, and probably longer.

My cover was Tommy Hardy, a wiz at Criminal Justice. After some research about the victims, we found that a lot of the women getting murdered shared that subject in common so I was signed up for those kinds of classes too. If they have that subject in common, there's a good chance our suspect attends those classes as well.

I walked into one of the big lecture halls and I was having difficulty trying to find a seat. I managed to sneak into one of the seats towards the back so I didn't take up space for the students who were paying thousands of dollars to be there.

Students were still filtering into the room, and the eraser of my pencil had found its way between my teeth. I was scanning the room with my eyes, trying to find anyone who might be able to assist me in finding the suspect, or who could be the suspect.

I glanced at the door and did a double take when one of the prettiest girls I've ever seen walked through the door. I am not exaggerating. I've never felt my heart fall out of my chest so quickly before, and for a complete stranger.

Her curly brown hair laid across her shoulders and her warm brown eyes surveyed the room. She had a textbook to her chest, and the navy blue of her long sleeve shirt complimented her skin tone perfectly. Her baggy denim jeans were very flattering on her, and I figured that her white sneakers were new because I've never seen a pair that bright before.

I felt a little creepy analyzing her like that, but I'm a cop. It's my job to be very observant, even when no one asked.

Her warm eyes met mine, and I forced myself to break our eye contact. I felt butterflies in the pit of my stomach, and a cold sweat broke over my neck when I saw her make her way towards me out of the corner of my eye. I pretended like I didn't notice her until she pointed at the empty seat near mine and asked, "is this seat taken?"

I shook my head. “No. Have at it."

I try to make it a habit to not be attracted to anyone I'm working around. In high school, it's not a problem because everyone is a minor. But universities are different because everyone is my age. The girl slipped her backpack off her arm and placed her heavy textbook on the desk surface. She rummaged through her backpack for a moment and pulled out her pencil.

The professor introduced himself and the class, and then forced us to pair up for a quick ice-breaker game. I nearly groaned. I forgot that schools always make us do this on the first day, and I always dread it.

The girl and I eyed each other and her soft chuckle was like a ring of pleasant bells in my ears. She asked me, "wanna be partners?"

I smiled at her kindly. “Sure."

"I'm Sarah."

"Tom," I introduced.

The professor instructed everyone to play a juvenile game of two truths and a lie. Once he explained how the game is played, I immediately thought that I would do well because I am very good at reading people's body language to determine when they're lying or not. One of the perks of being a cop.

Sarah went first. She said, "all right... um... I haven't thought about this. Okay, I got it. I love bowling, my grandmother makes the best cookies in the world, and my favorite food is Mexican food."

I stared at her face as I tried to figure out what she was lying about. She's so pretty. Maybe I got too lost in her beautiful brown eyes, because I completely missed it. I saw her begin to smile, as if she knew.

I cleared my throat and looked down at my desk. I let my eyebrows drop as I spoke out loud to explain my reasoning, "um... Mexican food is delicious so I'm going to assume that that's true, everyone's grandma makes the best cookies ever so that's probably true... so I'm going to guess that you don't love bowling."

Another reason why I think that bowling was the lie is because I've never met anyone who is as invested in bowling as I am. I'm constantly getting picked on, especially by Doug, about how I love playing and even watching bowling on the television. He thinks it's boring.

Sarah grinned and shook her head. “Nope. My favorite food is spaghetti. I love Italian food."

My eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Really."

"So, you love bowling?" I asked.

She nodded and chuckled sweetly, "people think it's a little strange, I know."

"I love bowling," I told her, "I try to bowl at least once a week. I’m in a league.”

"No way!" She said excitedly. Her knees turned to me and her face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Did you watch the Pro Bowlers Tour?"

I almost scoffed, a pinch away from being offended. "I’ve watched every event."

"Me too. Brian Voss was a legend, as always," she said.

She even knew who Brian Voss is. Incredible.

"Maybe, someday soon we can go out for some spaghetti and have a friendly game of bowling," I suggested. I had never met anyone else who was as passionate about bowling as me.

"I'm free tomorrow," she said, "and I don't think it'll be too friendly. I'm competitive."

I smiled at her. “It's a date."

Our conversation was cut short when the professor decided to start lecturing. I've never actually studied Criminal Justice before so I had little idea what he was talking about. I thought this would be a piece of cake when the professor was talking about the Amendments. But as soon as he started talking about other things, I got confused. I thought I'd be able to do well in this class due to my profession, but I quickly became utterly lost.

"What's he talking about with the Republic Act No. 6365?" I asked Sarah in a low voice.

"It's the act that established a national police on population, and created a commission of the population for other purposes. It's also known as the Population Act of the Philippines. It was approved on August 16, 1971," she answered.

Golly, she's smart. Even her answer lost me. From the short amount of time I've known her, she seemed really sweet and genuine too. I'm pretty good about reading people, and I had a good feeling about her.

Sarah must have sensed this because she chuckled and asked, "this isn't your major, is it?"

I shook my head. "Is it that obvious?"

Sarah smiled at me warmly and said, "it's okay. We can be partners for that presentation."

"What presentation?" I asked and raised an eyebrow up to express my confusion.

"The one from the syllabus," she said.

"Ah."

I noticed someone came up behind Sarah, so I nodded in his direction to let her know. She understood and turned around. The student was a tall, lanky kid with greasy brown hair and thin glasses. He wore a big puffy blue coat and asked, "hey, Sarah, I was wondering if you wanted to be partners for that project that's coming up."

Sarah rejected him kindly. “Oh, I'm sorry. I'm going to be partners with Tom."

"Oh. Then, do you want to hangout tomorrow?" He asked.

"I'm not going to be available. I'm going to hang out with Tom. I'm sorry," Sarah said. She was polite and courteous towards him, but he didn't seem very pleased.

I looked up at him and his eyes slowly found me. I gave him a soft wave with my hand, and he responded with a glare that burned into my soul. My eyes widened at the guy as he slowly walked down the isle back to his seat.

Once he was out of earshot, I leaned in close to Sarah and asked in a low voice, "do you know that guy?"

I caught a whiff of her perfume. She smelled fruity. I like fruit.

Sarah nodded. “Yeah, he hasn't left me alone since the seventh grade. Adrian Kelp."

"I think he has a little crush on you," I pointed out.

Sarah flexed her pink lip and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She did not seem to like that.

I narrowed my eyes and asked, "does he bother you?"

"Yeah, but it's really not a big deal." She shrugged it off.

I rested back in my chair and twirled my pencil between my fingers. Adrian definitely gave me weird vibes, but I wasn't going to focus my entire investigation on some strange kid.

I almost forgot about my investigation. Class was almost over, so I just decided to ask Sarah if she knew anything about the murders.

I asked her, "I just moved here but the scuttlebutt is that a few girls have been going missing. Is that true?"

Sarah nodded. “Yeah. I had classes with a few of them. It's always really hard to see their faces on the news and come to class the next day and see their empty chair."

"I bet," I agreed softly. "Is there anything more you know about it? Just so I'm more in the loop?"

Sarah shook her head. “I have no idea. Let's just say that I'll be so happy when the killer is caught, I'll give the officer a big kiss on the mouth—" she chuckled "—but... I'm brunette so I've been paranoid ever since Claudia was found."

Claudia Jennings was the third person found, and she was the one that made everyone figure out that the serial killer was only going after brunette Criminal Justice students from this university.

"Yeah. I want you to be careful, okay?" I said to her. She definitely fits the victimology.

She looked up at me with those big, beautiful eyes and said, "don't worry, I will."

After school, I went back to the chapel. I typed up my report. I finished my work, and went home for the night.

The next morning, I checked in with Fuller at the chapel before I was supposed to go back to the university. I was looking forward to see Sarah again, and talk about our plans for the night. If anyone finds out about it, I can tell them that I'm hanging out with her for more intel on the victims or something. I don't think Fuller will be very happy that I'm going to hang out with one of the students from the university, while I'm still undercover.

Fuller came up to me and said, "I just received word that another girl had gone missing."

"Who is it?" I asked as I peeled the blue wrapper of my granola bar back and took a dry bite. It was the only thing I planned to have for breakfast, because my stomach felt tight at the mere thought of seeing Sarah again.

Fuller tossed an identification card onto the table and revealed, "her name is Sarah Duvall. She fits the victim type. Attractive, brunette, twenty-one years old, and brown eyes."

I looked up at Fuller in confusion as I chewed aggressively. I reached to grab the student identification card and inspected it. My eyes grew wide when I recognized Sarah's face, and her name on the top corner was like a cherry on the cake.

"I know this girl," I said. My hand started shaking and my heart dropped, I couldn't believe it. "She was my partner in class. Where was she found?"

"That's the thing, Hanson, she hasn't been found yet," Fuller disclosed.

I asked, "she's still alive?"

Every victim we have found was never reported missing. The murderer killed them so fast, they had no time to become missing people. They were always found somewhere on campus, so there's a good chance that Sarah was still alive.

"We hope so. Is there anything you know about Sarah that could be useful for solving the case?" Fuller asked.

My mind immediately went to the boy who Sarah said has annoyed her since junior high school. "There's a kid in the class who Sarah said has had a crush on her for the past eight years. Adrian Kelp."

"She has friendzoned him for eight years?" Fuller asked.

I nodded. "Yeah, why?"

"If she's still alive, that must mean that she is the source of all of his rage. All the other victims have been surrogates for her, and now that he has her, there's no telling when he will kill her."

I stood up from my chair so quickly, that it hit the wall behind me. I grabbed my jacket and flung it over my arm and scrambled to get away from my desk. Fuller's voice in my ears was fuzzy as my mind was going a million miles a minute but I knew that he was calling out orders to my coworkers.

Fuller and I left the chapel together and ran down the stairs. I could feel my heart beating in my ears, and I wasn't going to rest until Sarah was safe and sound.

Sarah's POV

I woke up exhausted. My heart was pounding against my temple, and my brain felt clogged and foggy. I barely had the strength to open my eyes. I wish I kept them closed.

I found myself sitting on the dirtiest cot in the world. I looked around to try to figure out how I got trapped in the strange room. I tried to lift my hand up to my pounding head, but my arm got caught with the sound of metal clanking together in my ears. I frowned and looked down and saw that I was chained to the wall behind me.

I was wearing the same clothes as I wore yesterday, but I saw rusty stains on it. The cot I was on was covered in these rust colored stains, and I swear I saw bed-bugs crawling across the dirty beige sheets. The room smelled like metal, and a bit like mildew. I felt like I was in some sort of room off of a basement. I grimaced and looked around the small room, noticing a closed door on the other side.

There was a dim yellow light above me, which flickered occasionally. My head was still spinning from the dull pain but the light was making me feel sick. I had no idea how I got here. I really didn't want to lay back down on that nasty bed, so I leaned back against the dirty wall and closed my eyes.

My eyes shot open when I heard the jingles of keys on the other side of the door. My heart was in my throat when the door swung open, and I saw Adrian.

"Adrian! Oh my god. Please, help me out of here," I begged him and tried to pull my arms but the chains stopped them.

I looked up at him, and the look on his face told me something that I completely feared: he was the one who put me here.

"No," escaped my lips. "But why?"

"Because you never gave me the time of day," he snapped. "I waited for you. I patiently waited after every boyfriend, every date, and every single man who waltzed right into your life. I waited. But you didn't care. I tried to be patient."

"I-I-I didn't know," I stammered.

"I didn't know," he mocked me in a high pitched voice that made my blood run cold. He clenched his hands into fists by his hips. His voice dropped, along with his face. "Bullshit. It wasn't until you blew me off for that new kid that I knew that you were never going to give me a chance."

"Adrian, I'm so sorry—"

"It's too late for that!" He shouted which made my throat tighten. His head was practically shaking with anger. "I tried to take my anger out on you in healthy ways. Writing an angry letter and throwing it out, talking myself through an argument in the mirror... but it wasn't enough. You know what I did?"

I gulped, "what?"

"I knew that I would truly never get rid of my anger unless I took it out on you. But, you were the love of my life. I couldn't get rid of you. But I saw your face in every Criminal-Justice-major-brunette-girl I came across."

It finally clicked. I gasped, "you killed all those girls?"

"Ding! Ding! Ding!We have a winner, ladies and gentlemen!" He shouted, extending his arms out and twirling in place, as if people were around us. He stopped to look at me again and his joy drained in a moments notice. "But now I know that you'll never be with me."

"Adrian, let's talk this out. Please."

He grabbed a knife from his back pocket and gripped it tightly in his hand. He said, "if you can't be with me, you can't be with anyone."

"Help!" I shouted as loudly as I could, but I had no hope that anyone could hear me. "Help!"

Adrian took one step towards me and I heard the sound of a gun cocking behind him. A low voice ordered from the darkness, "drop your weapon."

My chest was heaving in terror as Adrian froze. He slowly stood up straight and lifted his hands up in the air.

"I said, drop your weapon," the voice ordered again.

Adrian slowly turned around the face the unknown voice and he dropped the knife to his feet. My lungs finally relaxed and allowed me to breathe, and my mouth was gaping in fear.

The individual came out from the shadows with a gun raised. He forced Adrian to turn around. I couldn't stop looking at his face as he pinned Adrian's hands behind his back and wrapped handcuffs tightly around his wrists. His strong nose was flexed, and his messy hair made me weak the first time I laid eyes on it. It was Tom from class.

"Adrian Kelp. You are under arrest. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you..."

I heard more footsteps approach the room I was trapped in and someone I didn't recognize came to take Adrian away.

Tom rushed to my side and sat beside me with a ring of keys in his hand. He grabbed the lock that was keeping these rusty chains on my wrists and stuck a key in it.

I was in complete and utter shock over the entire situation. It took me a moment to find my words but I managed to ask, "you're a cop?"

Tom nodded. “Yeah, I am."

"In a university class?" I was very confused.

Tom looked up at me while he was trying to unlock the padlock with a different key. He said, "I'm an undercover cop. I was investigating the murders of those girls from the Criminal Justice classes."

"Oh," I said softly. "Do you always do stuff like this?"

Tom nodded. “That's my job. I go undercover in high schools and colleges because I look young enough."

"Don't tell me that you're thirty," I joked softly. This was probably not the time, but I tend to joke in bad situations.

Tom smiled and said, "not quite. But you can't tell anyone. No one is supposed to know that my precinct exists."

"I won't tell anyone," I promised. "How did you know I was down here?"

Tom tried another key and said, "I've dealt with enough jealous men to know that they will kill what they can't have."

The lock finally clicked and the chains fell off my wrists. I rubbed the tender skin, trying not to wince at the broken skin that burned when I touched it.

Tom placed his hand on my back and asked, "are you all right?"

I nodded and looked up at him, "I'm all right."

As soon as we stood up, I was overcome with joy that he saved me. I put my arms around him in a hug and pulled him close. I felt his hands rest against my back and I said in a brittle voice, "thank you."

Tom returned the hug and when we pulled away, he smiled down at me softly. He said, "this may not be the best time, but I have never felt more terrified than I did when I found out that you were kidnapped. Do you believe in love at first sight?"

I nodded. “Yeah."

"I didn't until I met you."

A smile emerged onto my lips and I felt my face turn as red as a tomato. We started to walk out of the room and Tom asked, "can our date tonight be the first of many?"

I nodded again and said, "yes, please."

"Good." His face brightened.

"Oh, I almost forgot," I said. I leaned in close to Tom and placed my lips on his warm cheek. When I pulled away, I reminded him, "I did say that I'd be so happy that I would kiss whoever caught the killer."

Tom chuckled but said, "you said on the mouth."

"Did I?"

"You don't want to be a liar, do you?" He asked, giving me permission to kiss him.

I chuckled and tilted my chin up slightly and my lips met his. His lips were so pillowy and soft, I had to find the strength to pull away. His hand found the small of my back, and he was very gentle.

When we pulled away, Tom put his arm around me and pulled me close as we walked out of the house that was becoming swarmed with investigators. We were stopped by his boss, and he introduced me as his girlfriend. Tom offered to take me home, so he opened his car door for me and we drove off.

I looked over at him as we were bouncing down the road, and I had to fight the urge to let a happy squeal escape my throat. He was so cute. I couldn't believe I got to call him mine.

Chapter 33: Pirates of the Caribbean: Marooned Island

Chapter Text

Narrator's POV
1728

Florence sat on a barrel of the Black Pearl, with her arms crossed in annoyance. She was shivering because she had just attempted her third escape from the Black Pearl. She was just fished out of the water once again, and plopped down on a barrel by the plank so she couldn't escape again. The outcome is always the same. She jumps ship, and Captain Barbossa orders for her to be brought back up. It almost became a routine.

Florence had a very eventful few days. What she assumed would be a normal day turned into a kidnapping. She was taken from the cabaret that she's employed at by Captain Jack Sparrow, just before he began his quest to retrieve his beloved ship once again.

Despite taking her along for the ride, Jack really did not talk to the beautiful Florence. He admired her from afar, but she wasn't very warm towards him either. And for good reason. He kidnapped her.

Florence kept trying to jump ship. She thought that dying trying to escape was better than sticking around to see what these pirates would do to her. Especially after Barbossa kidnapped everyone from the Interceptor, including her and Jack.

Florencelooked out to see that they were approaching a small Caribbean island. She had never been on a pirate ship before, so she had little idea to what was in store for everyone.

Jack said to Barbossa, "I really rather hoped we were past all of this."

Barbossa put his arm around Jack and said to him, "Jack. Jack. Did you not notice? That be the same island that we made you governor of on our last little trip."

Jack swung his head toward the island and looked right back at Barbossa. The memories of being marooned there the first time flooded back to the surface and he stated, "I did notice,"

"Perhaps you'll be able to conjure up another miraculous escape. But I doubt it." Barbossa took his sword and pointed it at Jack. "Off you go."

"Last time you left me a pistol with one shot," Jack mentioned.

"By the powers, you're right. Where be Jack's pistol? Bring it forward."

One of the crew members came forward and handed Barbossa a belt with a single pistol in it, with one shot. The point of the pistol was to allow Jack to bite the bullet before he died of starvation.

Barbossa tossed the belt off the edge of the ship, and Jack looked down at it as it disappeared under the surface of the water.

Jack's eyes darted to Florence, and didn't hesitate to grip her shoulders and pull her off the ship when he jumped. Florence grunted from the sudden jerk and her scream was silenced when they disappeared under the water.

Florence struggled under Jack's grasp in the water, and her eyes were squeezed shut so the salt water didn't burn them. She thrashed around, ultimately hitting Jack's chest with her elbow. The blow knocked the wind out of him, and he let her go.

Florence swam up to the surface, throwing her head back so her dark hair was out of her face. She spit the salt water out of her mouth and Jack finally came up in front of her. She glared at him as they bobbed up and down in the water.

Jack raised his eyebrows and asked, "what?"

Florence was silent, but her rage was boiling inside. She would rather have been murdered by a pirate on the deck of the Black Pearl than die of starvation on an island in the middle of no where.

Jack and Florence swam to shore, and Florence's lack of shoes assisted in climbing up the soft sand. She turned back to see the Black Pearl sailing away from the island, leaving the pair to die alone.

Jack sighed and said, "that's the second time I've watched that man sail away with my ship."

Florence used her wrist to wipe off the droplets of water off her forehead, then she grabbed at her sticky brown hair and rung the water out of it.

"What happened the first time?" Florence asked.

"Same man. Same island. Same story," Jack stated.

Florence's eyes grew wide. "You were stranded on this island before?"

"Aye. At least this time, I'm not alone."

Florence sighed and walked off down the shore. She needed a moment to be alone. As she was walking around the island, Jack found two sticks and stabbed them into the sand. He took off his dark waistcoat and laid it out to dry, and stuck his soggy boots over the sticks. He plopped down in the sand and he started inspecting the pistol that Barbossa gifted them.

Florence eventually came across her own footprints. She looked up and saw Jack sitting in the sand.

Jack didn't even have to look up to know that she was there. "It's really not all that big, is it?"

Florence came up to Jack and said, "if you're going to shoot me anyway, would you mind making it quick?"

Jack finally looked up at her and rested his elbows on his knees. "Is there a problem between us, Miss Grant?"

"Obviously. You kidnapped me, first of all. Second of all, you—"

"Let's not play the blame game," Jack said.

Florence looked at him with big eyes and said, "this isn't a game if you are the one who is at fault! It's all because of you that we are stuck on this wretched island."

Florence grabbed the skirt of her dress and started to squeeze out the salt water that soaked into the fabric. Jack stood up and stared Florence down. He angrily shoved the pistol into the band of his trousers. Florence returned the hostile expression.

Jack screamed at her, and started trudging inland. Florence grabbed the stiff skirt of her dress and started to run after him, leaving her footprints behind in the golden sand of the island.

"Don't run away from me!" Florence hollered at him. She was right on his heels and she said, "we need to figure out how to get out of here."

"Off you go then! Let me know how that turns out," Jack said while trying to shoo her away with his hands. Florence had to take a moment to wrap her mind around his audacity but he kept walking towards a bundle of trees in the middle of the small island.

"I refuse to die on this island with you," Florence snapped. "We need to get off."

Jack stopped and spun to Florence angrily. "To what point and purpose, young missy? The Black Pearl is gone. Unless you have a lot of sails hidden in that bodice... unlikely... we are destined to die on this island."

Florence huffed, "look, all that I have come to find out about you are... not great things."

"If you are trying to butter me up, you're not doing a very good job," Jack said deadpan as he began to knock on the trunks of the nearby trees. It's been over ten years, but he knew that there was a hidden room full of rum somewhere on the island. He made large steps to a section of sand where no plants were growing, and he jumped up and down to hear the familiar sound of metal clanking.

"But, you are my only hope," Florence said. She stood right beside Jack and asked him, "if you were here before, how did you escape last time?"

Jack looked up at Florence and exhaled roughly through his flexed nose. He said, "last time I was here a grand total of three days. All right?"

"Three days?" Florence asked.

Jack squatted down and used his hand to brush the sand off the metal ring hidden in the sand. He opened the door and let it bang against the ground. His lips tugged in a very small smile when he saw the large amount of free rum that was at his disposal.

"Last time, the rum runners used this island as a cache," Jack explained as he snuck into the underground room. "They came by, and I was able to barter passage off. From the looks of things, they've long been out of business. Probably have that bloody bloke Norrington to thank for that."

Jack came back up holding bottles of rum in his hands. The onion bottles were covered in dust and cobwebs, which Jack tried half-heartedly to brush off.

"And you found this room of rum?" Florence asked.

Jack nodded. “Yeah."

"I assume that it was before the rum-runners got here, eh?" Florence asked.

Jack nodded. “Right again."

"So, let me get this straight... you spent those three bloody days lying on the beach drinking rum?"

Jack's lips tugged into a small smirk at Florence and he opened up his arms towards her. He gripped the necks of the rum bottles in his hands and he shimmied his shoulders as he said, "welcome to the Caribbean, love." He pushed one of the rum bottles to her chest before walking off. Florence's jaw slacked and she followed Jack with her eyes as he swaggered back to the beach.

Florence believed that Jack was certainly handsome, but she couldn't overlook the fact that everything about their situation was completely his fault. She didn't let her judgement of him become clouded by his charm. She more angry at him than anything else.

Florence opened her mouth to call out to Jack, but her voice caught in her throat. She peered down at the bottle, and sighed softly. Her options were very limited. She could either follow Jack's carefree lead, or focus on the negative on the situation. She slowly trudged after Jack, her hand carrying the full bottle of rum was resting by her stomach. She gazed at Jack as he slumped into the sand and looked out to the vivid blue water.

Florence silently walked up to Jack and slowly sat down beside him. The sand was clinging to her sticky wet dress and skin, but it was the least of her concerns at the moment.

Jack advised, "with our provisions, we have a month, maybe more. Keep a weather eye open for passing ships and our chances are fair."

"No one knows we are here, no one is looking for us. We have to do something," she said while looking out at the horizon.

"You're absolutely right," Jack said. He popped the cork of his bottle of rum and tapped the glass against the bottle in Florence‘s hand. "Yo-Ho-Ho and a bottle of rum."

Jack raised the bottle up to his lips and took a smooth gulp. Florence looked down at her bottle and gripped her hand around the cork and pulled it out. She sniffed the inside of it, and pulled the bottle away from her face with a grimace.

Jack dug into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a couple sticks of sugarcane that he had been smuggling for God knows how long. He stuck one of the pieces in his mouth and began to chew it.

Florence gave him the side eye, trying to figure out what he was chewing on. Jack noticed and offered her the other piece. "Want a sugarcane?"

"Where'd you get that?" Florence asked with a snarl of her lip in disgust.

"My pocket," Jack stated obviously.

"I figured that much," Florence replied sarcastically.

"Want it?" He asked again.

"No, I'm not going to have your pocket-sugar."

"Suit yourself," Jack said and shoved the little stick back into his dirty pocket. He gestured to the bottle and said, "loosen up. It will get rid of that uninviting edge you've got."

"How did you overcome your boredom?" Florence asked while squinting through the mouth of the bottle. There's only so much someone can do on a deserted island.

"When I was alone, I spoke to the animals, or I sang to myself to pass the time," Jack revealed.

"That sounds terrible," Florence chuckled. She took a small sip of the rum, and flexed her lips as she forced herself to swallow.

Jack looked at her and said, "that's a laugh. An actual laugh. I enjoy looking at your smile."

Florence blushed just enough to feel the need to look away from Jack so he wouldn't notice. But he did, and he smiled back at her. It was hard for him to look away from her dancing hazel eyes, and it was the first time she showed any emotion besides anger since the day he met her.

"Come on, we've got the time," Jack stated.

Florence laughed and said, "I'd have to drink more if you're going to get me to sing."

Jack looked over at Florence, which made her look back at him. He paused for a moment just to gaze into her eyes.

"How much more?" Jack asked. He hid his emerging smile by bringing the bottle back up to his lips.

The sun finally went down on the island, and Jack grew more intoxicated by the hour. Florence kept her wits about her so she could figure out how to escape the island by herself if Jack was not going to be of any help. She spent her time pretending to keep up with Jack's drinking, and preparing a fire by gathering dry firewood to set ablaze.

The bonfire paired with the moon, creating the only light within miles. The dark smoke disappeared into the night sky, and Jack was drunkenly dancing around the entire beach, dragging Florence along with him.

"We're devils, we're black sheep!
We're really bad eggs!
Drink up, me hearties, yo-ho!
Yo-ho, yo-ho, a pirates life for me!"

Jack stumbled around the fire and shouted out, "I love this song!"

Florence was dancing along with him merrily, but kept looking back at all their food and provisions that was supposed to last them a month. While Florence was distracted, Jack drunkenly ran up beside her and hooked his arm with hers and swung his heavy body around to twirl them. Florence squealed with a soft giggle at the sudden jolt, but made sure that she didn't trip over Jack's bare feet.

Jack released her from his grip and tried to stand up straight, but the world was still spinning in his glazed eyes. He had not been this drunk in a long time. Jack lifted his bottle in the air and tried to focus on Florence's sun-kissed face as he sang out, "really bad eggs!"

His throat tightened at the sudden feeling that he was going to be sick as the dizziness of his head overcame him. Jack grunted and fell back into the sand.

Florence laughed and said, "you're completely plastered!"

"Am not!" Jack rebutted playfully with his nose in the air.

"Are so!"

Jack grinned up at her as she walked closer to him. He found her to be absolutely gorgeous. The cracking fire nearby and the moonlight lit up her skin, making her glow enchantingly. He said, "I'll tell you a secret if you tell me one."

Florence chuckled and asked, "what do you got?"

"I don't know how to count to ten. I get to 8 and it gets real fuzzy," Jack said and flexed his lip. "It makes me head hurt."

"That's your mind trying to comprehend its own stupidity," Florence joked.

"Now you."

"I can dance."

"Dance?"

Florence nodded.

"Then I've got a request for you, love." Jack rested his limp elbows on his bent knees, but he managed to still sway in his seat.

"What?" Florence asked with a cock of her eyebrow.

"Will you dance for me?"

"Dance?" Florence asked.

Jack nodded and hid his smirk by taking another gulp of the rum.

Florence took a position in front of Jack, visualizing the most recent dance she had memorized to perform in front of him. She had been belly-dancing for years. That's what she was doing when Jack found her, so he was fully well aware of her dancing background.

The art of belly-dancing is solely driven by the torso, with an emphasis of movement of the hips. As Florence started dancing, she was playing her usual music in her head, lifting and dipping her hips on the beat. Jack noticed these hits and began clapping along joyfully to give her a beat.

Florence smiled out at Jack and continued her dance. She made infinity loop movements with her hips, combined with tilting hip circles that made Jack's muddy mind draw a blank. She moved in small and fast continuous movements of her hips, along with her ribcage. This created the impression of texture and depth in her dancing.

Due to the fact that Florence was not in a corset and how she displayed her sinful hips for Jack's enjoyment almost shocked him. He couldn't get enough of it. He could watch her dance all night.

When Florence incorporated shimmies into her routine, Jack had to fight the urge to jump up and take her right then and there. Florence practiced her straight leg driven shimmies, which were fast and caused tiny hip vibrations before she gradually turned it into a bouncing shimmy. She was afraid that she was going to suddenly become indecent in front of Jack, so she morphed her movements into a relaxed shoulder shimmy, and gave Jack a playful smolder as she added a twirl.

Florence used her arms to frame and accentuate the movements of her hips and to create beautiful lines and shapes with her body that was leaving Jack absolutely smitten.

Florence finished her routine with a fun pose, and Jack whistled between his fingers and clapped for her.

"That was brilliant," he complimented.

Florence blushed softly and walked over to Jack. She sat right beside him in the cool sand. Her heart was beating fast, and she didn't know if it was because of her dancing, or because of Jack.

"We've known one another for a few days now, and I believe this is the only quality time we've had together," Jack pointed out and belched.

"It's hard to warm up to your captor," Florence stated.

Jack's mind went back to the sea-shanty they were singing and he hummed the song to himself for just a moment before he said, "when I get the Pearl back, I'm gonna teach it to the whole crew, and we'll sing it all the time."

"And you will become the most fearsome pirate in the Spanish Main," Florence said with a big grin.

"Not just the Spanish Main, love, the entire ocean. The entire world! Wherever we want to go, we go," Jack said and took another swig of his rum. With his free hand, he rested it on the back of Florence's neck which sent shivers down her spine.

Florence leaned back and felt Jack's chest against her shoulder. Jack looked down at her tussled brown hair, and let her rest against him. He wanted her to be closer.

"That's what a ship is, you know. It's not just a keel and hull and deck and sails. That's what a ship needs. But what a ship is... what the Black Pearl really is... is freedom," Jack said.

Florence sighed and said, "a free spirit like you must feel utterly trapped on this island. Must be horrible."

"Oh, yes. But, the company is infinitely better than last time, and the... scenery has definitely improved.” Jack placed his fingers one at a time on Florence's shoulder, and she didn't mind his touch. Florence rested further into Jack, nearly giving him all of her weight. She could fall asleep right here in his arms, she strangely felt safe and secure with him.

Florence sat up straight and raised her bottle of rum out. She said, "to freedom."

Jack eyed her adoringly and said, "to the Black Pearl."

Keeping his hand on the nape of her neck, he used his other hand to bring his glass to hers in cheers and guided the mouth of the bottle straight to his lips. He could barely keep his droopy eyes open anymore. The liquid was going down his numb throat smoothly, and Jack was so intoxicated that he didn't realize he was falling backwards. His head was swimming within itself, and he drank until he lost control of his consciousness. Jack passed out, and the empty bottle of rum rolled out of his grasp.

Florence set her bottle of rum down and wiped some sand off of her cheek. She watched as Jack drank until he passed out, and she let out a sigh. She looked back at the provisions, and knew what she had to do. She stood up and dusted some of the sand that dried to her skin off and readjusted her dress.

She tip-toed around Jack's sleeping body and went straight for the provisions. First, she organized everything and spent hours lugging bottles and barrels of the rum up to the shore. Once everything was prepared, she finally fell asleep against a tree.

Florence woke up once the sunbeams found her. She was able to watch the beautiful sunrise. The sun poked up above the shining sea, giving her hope for the new day. She spent her early morning searching through the provisions for a fruity breakfast, and drank some of the fresh water they had.

Florence glanced over at Jack, but he was still passed out after the festivities from the night before. As the sun got higher, Florence knew that there wasn't much time left. She pulled everything into a pile, and topped it off with flammable rum. Then, she set it all on fire.

The fire was much larger than Florence was anticipating it to be, but she wasn't mad about it. The thick smoke floated in the air, contrasting greatly against the clear blue sky. Florence had an idea to create a smoke signal using everything they had on the small island.

Jack slowly woke up from the burning smell that tickled his nose. When he opened his eyes, he saw the smoke that floated around him. He couldn't tell if his eyes were burning from the bright sun, the smoke, or from his hangover.

Jack finally figured out what was happening and he scrambled up to his feet. He turned to see the massive pile, and Florence tossing in a bottle of rum which caused a small explosion.

"No!" Jack shouted and started running up to her while waving his arms. "Not good! Stop! Not good! What are you doing?! You've burned all the food, the shade... therum."

"Yes, the rum is gone," Florence said.

Jack stood in front of her and asked, "why is the rum gone?"

"Rum is flammable. My smoke signal is over a thousand feet high. Do you really believe that if someone is out there they won't see this?"

It was almost as if every positive feeling he had towards Y/n floated away with the waves after finding out that she sacrificed all of his rum. Jack's hands trembled in front of his face and he shouted, "but why is the rum gone?!"

Florence was content with her smoke signal and knew that there was nothing else she could add to it. She turned to face the ocean and sat down at Jack's feet. "Someone will come for us, I'm certain of it."

Jack held his tight fists by his chin as he stared down at Florence with nothing but complete anger. He scrambled to pull out the pistol and it shook in his hand as he debated on shooting her for this or not. Florence didn't hear Jack cock the pistol, so she kept her hopeful focus on the horizon.

Jack's upper lip flexed as he clenched his jaw and his eyes bugged at the woman. His other hand was grasped in an angry fist, but he eventually got control over his emotions and he uncocked the pistol and stuffed it back into his pants.

Florence looked back at Jack after she heard him stomp off, muttering to himself. She rolled her eyes and looked back at the ocean. She took a deep breath, knowing that someone out there will see their call for help.

Jack continued to walk off and mocked her, "a free spirit like you must feel utterly trapped on this island. Must be horrible.' Well, it bloody is now!" He turned to shout it at her, but he was too far away for her to hear him.

Jack still found Florence to be one of the most beautiful women he has ever seen, but this stunt was going to bug him for the rest of his life, no matter how long or short it ends up being.

When Jack turned toward the direction he was walking, he stopped in his tracks. His face dropped, despite seeing a ship coming to their rescue. He just didn't like how her plan worked. He would have preferred for it not to work, and he could say, 'I told you so.'

Jack sighed and said to himself, "there'll be no living with her after this."

Jack paced back and forth for a moment before marching back to Florence. Despite this major set back, he was looking forward to be working alongside her to get his ship back from Barbossa.

Chapter 34: 21 Jump Street: Fatherly Love

Chapter Text

Anna Hanson's POV
2010's

I was beginning to go down the stairs of my childhood home when I heard my dad grab his keys to get ready for work. I threw on my favorite white sweatshirt, and knew that my dad would probably say something about my ripped jeans. He always does. The old man doesn't understand that it's the style.

In a hushed voice I heard him say to my mom, "I don't know what we are gonna do about her, Samantha, I don't like her hanging out with those kids. I really don't. I saw two of them down at the station over the weekend because they were minors in possession of alcohol."

I froze on the top step and squat down so he couldn't see me. I even quieted my breath so he didn't know I was listening to their conversation. I pushed my dark brown hair over my shoulder so it wasn't in my way. People say I look a lot like my dad. We've got the same brown hair, and the same eyes. But our personalities couldn't be more clashing.

My mom came up to my dad and fixed his dark tie. She said, "Anna is a teenager now, Tom, she's old enough to make her own decisions and I trust her."

"She came home yesterday smelling like cigarette smoke," Dad almost snapped. I saw him lift his sharp chin up slightly so my mom could properly straighten out his tie.

"That doesn't mean she was smoking it," Mom said.

"If she's close enough to be smelling like it, then she's too close."

"I don't like it either, but we have to give her space. Shes not a kid anymore. She's just going to lash out if we corner her," Mom said.

"I don't care for her behavior. I'm tired of it," Dad said. They both walked away from my view and I heard him say, "if she does one more thing, I'm going to..." his voice trailed off.

"Do what?" Mom asked.

"I'll think of something," Dad mumbled.

I slowly crept back up the stairs and ran into my room. I shut the door gently so no one could hear the lock clicking. My heart was heavy, but I tried not to let his words bother me. I peered at my window and decided to sneak out.

I've been sneaking out a lot lately, and my parents are none-the-wiser. My mom is easy to get past, and Dad is usually at work so I don't really see him much anyway. And it's not like I was sneaking out to do anything bad—this time—I was going to school. I just didn't want to walk in on their conversation and be forced to be a part of it. I really did not feel like getting lectured right now.

School is close enough for me to walk there, which is nice because I don't have my license yet. One more year.

I got to the school and received a text from my friend to meet her on the back steps of the building. I glanced at the clock on my phone screen, and saw that first period was about to start. I decided to pretend like I didn't know what time it was, and walked around the building.

I came up to my friend group, who were sitting together on the steps that let up to the back of the school. I met them all this year, and I started hanging out with them after a certain party from the fall. They're all upper class-men, and my parents don't like them. Especially my dad.

"Hey, Anna," my friend Jordy greeted. She was balancing a lit joint between her fingers, and the soft wind pushed the skunk-like smell to my nose.

"Hey, guys," I said as I sat down on the step, joining their little circle. I eyed them all, trying to figure out which ones were arrested for MIP's. I wasn't going to ask. My nose twitched slightly from the smell, but I never complain about it in front of them.

"Man, are you ready for that math test today?" My other friend, Kylie, asked. She was sitting next to our other two friends, Lana and Adam. She failed Geometry twice, so she's in the same class as I am. It's supposed to be just sophomores, but she's a senior.

"No," I scoffed, "I barely had time to study. My dad was all over my ass about doing chores all weekend."

"Your dad is such a DILF," Jordy said and took a puff from the joint. "I'd do whatever that man told me to. No question."

"Gross," I said and flexed my lip in disgust. "I hate when you say that."

Almost every time I bring up my dad, the girls always go on and on about how attractive they think he is. I don't see it. When they turned eighteen, they have never shut up about him. They've even asked me if my parents would be down for a three-some with each of them. I think it's disgusting. He's my dad!

"It's true though," Kylie agreed with a giddy smile. "He can arrest me any time he wants."

"I love a man in uniform," Jordy giggled.

"Maybe I should go out and steal something just so he can frisk me," Lana said and stuck her tongue out with a laugh.

"Gross, stop," I said and took the joint from Jordy and put it to my lips. I don't even like smoking, but I do it so my friends think I'm cool. My dad would kill me if he caught me smoking, but I didn't care.

The smoke burned my lungs but I only inhaled a little so I didn't have an embarrassing coughing fit. That's what happened the first time, and I'm determined to never let that happen again. My mouth got dry, and I felt my eyes water from the stinging in my throat.

"All right, all right," Kylie chuckled.

"I say, let's all play hooky from school," Adam suggested.

"What did you have in mind?" Lana asked.

Adam shrugged. “We could go to the mall?"

"And blow off class?" I asked. "What about our test?"

"What? You chicken?" Kylie asked with a condescending snicker. I hate when they call me that. I constantly felt like I had to prove myself to them.

I scrunched my eyebrows and said, "am not."

I was tired of being the goody-goody. I've been the Police Captain's daughter my entire life, and I was sick and tired of how everyone has always expected me to be just like him. This was my way to prove that I'm my own person.

"Then let's go," Adam said as he stood up. He took the joint and had a puff before stomping it out on the cement ground. "I'm driving."

We all grabbed our book bags and heard the bell ringing as we raced to the parking lot. We all jumped into his car and he peeled out and onto the main road.

The mall is relatively close to the school. I left my backpack in Adam's car, but I grabbed some cash that my mom gave me for lunch. We walked around different stores that are in the mall, and we all took a much needed lunch break in the food court. When we were ready to shop again, everyone wanted to go to some grunge store but Lana and I went off to Target.

Lana and I walked up and down the isles of Target, trying to find whatever it was that she wanted. She had given me some eye drops from her bag and sprayed me endlessly with cheap Victoria's Secret mist to mask the smell that lingered on me from the weed. I become nose-blind pretty quickly, so I can only hope that it works.

As we were walking, I glanced over at her and noticed that she grabbed something off the shelf and slipped it into her open backpack.

"What are you doing?" I asked in a low voice.

"What does it look like? Keep an eye out, will ya?"

"You're gonna get us in trouble."

"Keep an eye out," she reiterated. She handed me a trinket and told me to put it in my pocket, which I did without hesitation.

I groaned gently and raised my head up and looked up and down the isle to try to look inconspicuous. But then I looked up at the ceiling and saw a hidden camera pointed directly at us.

I tapped Lana's shoulder and told her, "they've got a camera."

"Shit," she said under her breath. "Let's get out of here."

She zipped up her full backpack and we walked quickly out of the isle. As soon as we turned, we were greeted by a big bald man wearing a black shirt with SECURITY across the chest.

He eyed us up and down and said, "what's in the bag?"

"Just school stuff," Lana said, trying to brush him off.

"Come with me," he ordered. He obviously didn't believe her.

Lana and I looked at each other and I let the air escape my lips. We followed the security guy to a hidden room in the back, and he forced us to sit down by a computer screen. He showed us a video clip of us going throughout the store, stealing almost everything in sight.

He held his hand out, and we coughed up everything we took. Then, he put his hands on the table and said, "you two are in a lot of trouble. We've already contacted the police, and they're on their way."

I felt the blood completely drain from my face. I looked down at my hands and started fiddling my thumbs. I wish I didn't care, but I did. I just wished that the cop coming to get me wouldn't be someone my dad knew. I really didn't want him to find out about this.

My heart leaped from my chest when I heard the hinges of the door squeak. The door opened, and two cops stepped into the room. I knew they were cops just by looking at their shiny black shoes. My eyes scanned all the way up their uniforms but I felt my heart drop to my feet. My dad crossed his arms at me, and flexed his nostrils in anger.

I'm in trouble.

Lana looked at me with a small cock of her eyebrow, but I gave her a slight head shake to tell her that this wasn't the time to flirt with my father.

My dad's strong jaw clenched and he turned to Lana and said, "Ms. Greenway, I've already contacted your parents and they're gonna meet you at the station to pick you up."

Lana nodded softly and let out a small, "okay."

Dad and his partner have been best friends ever since my dad joined some program in the Metro Police Department from the 1980's called Jump Street. It was some undercover program where they would go to high schools and colleges, but they stopped it a while ago. Rumor has it that they started it up again recently, but it's an undercover program so I'll never really know. Anyway, he is really close with our family, we call him Uncle Doug.

Uncle Doug took Lana, and my dad thanked the security guy. Then, he escorted me out of the store and all the way his police cruiser. He put me in the back and went into the drivers seat. Uncle Doug and Lana were in another car.

I asked, "do I really have to be back here?"

"You're a criminal. Criminals ride in the back," Dad said angrily.

"Dad..."

"Do not 'dad' me, Anna Marie Hanson!" He snapped. He started driving and leveled his voice before he said, "you're in big trouble."

"I don't care," I tried to keep my voice strong, but it was hard.

"No television, no phone, and certainly no friends for a month."

"You're the worst!" I yelled.

"Two months."

"No way!"

"Wanna make it three?"

I gasped, "but that's not fair!"

"Don't do the crime if you can't do the time."

"What's your deal with my friends? You haven't even given them a chance," I stated.

"I know enough to know that they are too old for you to be hanging out with them. And they are clearly bad influences," he said.

"I'm already trapped in that goddamn house all the time. You're really turning me into a prisoner, huh?"

"What the hell has gotten into you?" He asked.

"Like you'd care," I muttered.

"What was that?" He asked, looking at me through the rear view mirror. I could feel the fury burning in his dark eyes as he looked at me.

"Nothing, God," I said and crossed my arms.

"Young lady, I don't appreciate this tone."

I stayed silent, and the only noise was of us bouncing down the road. I looked out the window and saw all the trees that were rapidly passing by, and I wished that I could join their little tree family so I didn't have to put up with this conversation.

"Stealing... skipping school... failing your tests... smoking... and that's the stuff I know about. I don't know what to do with you," he said. I saw his nose twitch, so I knew that he could probably smell it still lingering on my body. He's a smart man, he probably knows that when I smell strongly of cheap perfume, I've been around smoke. It's the oldest trick in the book.

I exhaled slowly, and took a moment to really think about my actions. I didn't think that it was that big of a deal, but I was beginning to realize how much my behavior was affecting my family. It made them so upset, but that's only because they cared. I thought I was just trying to impress my friends, but I didn't fully comprehend that my actions have consequences that negatively affect me and my family.

"You're not setting a good example for your little sister, and she looks up to you," Dad said calmly. "Would you want her to be doing what you're doing?"

I felt my throat tighten and I looked down at my lap. I sniffed softly and felt pressure in my eyes. I really didn't want to cry in front of him, but I felt so overwhelmed. I felt bad about the whole situation. I just wished I could just start over.

On one hand, I never wanted this car ride to end because that meant I'd have to be face-to-face with him. On the other, I was ready for it to be over. My chest got heavy when Dad pulled into the drive way and stopped the car.

We both got out and he came up to me. He placed his heavy hands on my shoulders and took a deep breath. He looked down at me with his dark, but kind eyes. He said in a deep voice, "you know I love you, right?"

I bit my lips together and nodded softly.

"I don't want to see you get hurt. Can you be more careful, please?"

I sniffed again and nodded. “Yeah. I will."

I hated to admit it, but he was right. Those people weren't my friends. Friends would never put friends in bad situations. I don't think I'll be hanging out with any of them again any time soon.

"Good," he said. He pulled me into a hug and I felt the scratch of his whiskers when he gave me a fatherly kiss on my cheek.

I hugged him back, just as tight. I love my dad with all my heart.

Chapter 35: Pirates of the Caribbean: Amputate

Chapter Text

Dr. Alexandra Woodall's POV

I held my bag full of instruments in a tight grip as I snaked through the bustling port, following a grungy pirate. He had burst into the tavern I was in while meeting with some friends and he was begging for a doctor. I barely had time to introduce myself before he grabbed my arms and started pulling me out of the establishment.

"Right this way, Miss," he said to me as he escorted me to the docks. He informed me that his captain was in dire need of medical attention, and they came to the first port they could.

"It's Doctor," I corrected him.

I haven't been a doctor for long, but I come from a long line of surgeons in my family. My great grandfather, John Woodall, was a famous surgeon upon many ships throughout his long life. I've built upon the research that he, and my grandfather, and my father have conducted. I was top of my class and I'm well-known for amputating limbs and not killing my patients. I pride myself on my fast amputations. My record is nine seconds for a leg.

I walked along the rickety dock and followed the pirate up to a ship named The Black Pearl. It smelled like fish and salt water and all I could hear was the clamoring and bickering amongst the crew that filled the deck.

One of the pirates on deck rushed up to me and asked, "are you a doctor?"

He was an older gentleman with white and grey muttonchops. I nodded at him and said, "indeed, I am."

"I'm Gibbs, but my Captain is in his quarters. He is in terribly bad shape, Doctor," he said as he escorted me to a door that was surrounded by the crew.

They parted themselves for my arrival, and I could hear muffled screams through the closed door. As soon as Gibbs opened the door, his cries were as clear as a bell. There was a pirate with long dreadlocks laying on top of a desk, hissing and trying not to scream out in his obvious pain.

The first thing I noticed was his leg. It was bloody and completely mangled. The flesh was beginning to turn black and gray, and I immediately knew that he was going to have to lose it.

"Good evening, I'm Dr. Woodall," I introduced as I walked up to the desk and put my bag down by my feet. I stood up straight and began to assess the situation as I asked, "can you tell me your name, Captain?"

He looked up at the ceiling and muttered through his gold teeth, "J-Jack."

"And how are we doing, Jack?" I asked, just to try to get his mind off of the pain I knew he was feeling. I grabbed a ribbon from the pocket of my dress and pulled my dark hair out of my face.

"I'm in a great deal of bloody pain, dearie," he responded through gritted teeth.

I stepped to his leg and ordered that his boot get taken off. I began to pull the leg of his bloody trousers up until I could see healthy pink flesh. I placed my fingers gingerly near his blackened ankle, and I couldn't feel a pulse.

He hissed out in pain, "blimey! Easy on the goods!"

I really didn't have to inspect his leg for long before I knew what I had to do. I had to take it off. I looked toward the few crew members who stayed in the room and said, "I'm going to need all of your help."

"What? What's going on?" Jack asked, thrashing his head around.

I had one of the men hold my bag so I had easier access to my tools. I dug around until I found a clean needle and attached it to a syringe. I found my container of opium and I sucked the medicine into the syringe. I stuck the needle into Jack's thigh and let the medicine into his bloodstream slowly. His breath halted before he let out a slow exhale.

I took the needle out and quickly discarded it. "I just gave you opium to help with the pain. It should start working almost instantly."

Jack seemed to calm down a bit and he dropped his head to his desk. He looked up at the ceiling and he was breathing hard, but he was eventually beginning to breathe slower. I guided him through some deep breaths before I said over my shoulder, "I need the saw."

Jack's eyes immediately widened and he lifted his dizzy head back up in pure terror. The drugs hit him like a ton of bricks because his head immediately fell back down and I heard the heavy thud against the wood. He was shaking his head a bit as he tried to muster the strength to fight the opium and he slurred, "no, no, no! Don't do that!"

The saw was already in my hands as I explained to him, "Captain Jack, you are suffering from gangrene. Your leg has lost all blood flow to it, and there is no pulse. Your limb is dying. There's nothing I can do but cut it off before it kills you."

"No, no, no," he refused and continued to shake his head. He pointed at me and said, "you're gonna listen to me, and you're gonna listen double! I will not lose me leg! Gibbs, don't let her take me leg!"

"I won't, Cap'n."

The only other thing I have in my bag to help with the excruciating pain of an amputation is whiskey. I quickly grabbed the bottle and pulled the cork. I have it just for situations like this. I handed it to him, and he drank the rest of it like it was the end of the world.

It's the 1700's, we are not as far along in western medicine as I wish we were. We have no medications that could put someone to a forceful sleep so they cannot feel a thing. Unfortunately, alcohol is the best we have.

"I need some strong men to hold him down," I ordered. Everyone nearby grabbed ahold of some part of Jack, and he tried to squirm out of their grasp.

"Does anyone have a Petit's tourniquet?" I asked everyone. It's a device that clamps down on the patients leg, and works by twisting a screw compressor. It can stop blood flow in the main artery which is extremely beneficial for leg amputations. It is one of the most important things I need for amputations so the patient doesn't bleed out.

"I have this," a crew member said and handed me some rope.

I sighed but took it anyway. It was better than nothing. I quickly tied the rope above the black and dead tissue as tightly as I could.

"Anyone have a piece of wood?" I asked as I gripped the saw in my hand and eyed where I'd begin to make my cut.

"Why?" Jack asked suspiciously.

Before I knew it, someone had placed a thick piece of dirty wood in my hand. I stepped closer to Jack's face and saw how much he was sweating. His face was glistening from the pain under the lights of the lanterns that filled the, otherwise, dark room. I put the wood in front of his face and he went cross eyed trying to look at it. His eyebrows scrunched and he peered up at my face.

I explained, "this is for you to bite down on for pain relief."

He opened his mouth and I stuck the wood in. He crunched down on it softly, and I stepped back to his leg. I took a deep breath before I placed four fingers right above the diseased flesh, and positioned the razor sharp saw on his skin.

"Ready?" I asked Jack as his crew members continued to hold him down.

His weak answer of, "no," was muffled from the wood.

I pressed the teeth of the saw into his healthy flesh and began cutting. I used a circular-cut sawing motion to saw off his leg. His warm blood squirted and stained the bodice of my dress and droplets landed on my neck and cheeks. Jack jolted from the pain and screamed in agony, crunching down on the wood as he cursed me out. The other pirates held him down so strongly, he barely wiggled.

I got his leg off in a matter of seconds. My hands were completely covered in his blood that was looking around my fingers. I discarded the limb and used silk to tie off his arteries so he could not bleed out. It was a tedious process, but I wanted to be sure that he would live. Then, I scraped the edges of his bone smooth. I had left a flap of skin so I could pull it across and sew it closed. I did leave a drainage hole to help with fighting infection. Another way I reduced the risk of infection was pouring disinfectant over the area. All I had was brandy, and Jack hissed from the excruciating pain.

I tied off the last stitch and I proudly said, "I am finished, Captain Jack. We are done."

His leg had become a rounded, and still bloody stump. Jack was in hysterics. He was screaming out from the pain and tried to thrash around, but he didn't have the energy nor the strength.

Jack tried to lift his head up, but suddenly his eyes rolled to the back of his head and his head fell back to the table. He stopped squirming under the restraints of his crew members. I rushed to his head and placed my fingers on his warm neck to check his pulse. I felt his heart beat, and felt relieved that he wasn't dead. He just passed out from the pain.

"What's wrong?" Gibbs asked. He was standing behind me the whole time, so I didn't see him through the whole operation.

"Jack is alive, and he should make a full recovery," I stated. Then, I ordered for my tools to be cleaned and his severed leg to be taken away. The crew rushed to complete my instructions.

"It's a shame he lost his leg. He won't be very happy about that," Gibbs clicked his tongue.

"It was either his leg or his life," I stated. "I think I will stay in here until he wakes up, just to make sure he is all right."

"Thank you, Doctor," Gibbs said.

The pirates filtered out of the quiet room, leaving me alone with their beloved captain. My tools were soon returned to me, as clean as a pirate ship can make them. I made a request for a bowl of vinegar and cloth strips, which was quickly fulfilled. I dipped the cloth strips into the vinegar and draped them over Jack's stump to keep it clean. I used one of the clean ones to dab the sweat that dripped down Jack's face, and another to clean off the blood that splattered on me. I couldn't clean the blood off the fabric of my dress though. I glanced at Jack’s face and noticed his eyes were open. I used my fingers to carefully push his eyelids closed, and his lips parted. I inspected the scab on the scruff of his jaw, and admired his prominent cheekbones. Despite being a pirate, he's not hard to look at.

There was a chair in the quarters that I adopted for a few hours. I passed the time by reading some of the books he had in his cabin. When it was time to change his dressings, I had prepared more cloth strips and once again stood by his legs. I peeled the old ones off and dropped the blood soaked cloths to the ground. His bleeding was gradually stopping, which was very good. I began to place the new ones on when I noticed his eyelids fluttering open.

"Hello, Captain," I said as I replaced the last of his dressings.

Jack lifted his head up groggily and his eyes darted from his stump, and back up to me. His eyes narrowed into a scowl as he slowly woke up more.

"What?" I asked.

"You took off me leg. Gibbs was supposed to keep that from happening. Why must he fail me so often?"

"I could have taken your life instead," I stated. "I see this as a win."

He sighed because he knew I was right. "Thanks for not killing me."

"Thanks for not dying."

"But darling, that was bloody painful. It still hurts."

"You're lucky I had my bag with me, or you wouldn't have had anything to help with the pain," I said.

"I keep thinking I have my leg but then I look down, and it's not there."

"That's called phantom-limb. You'll feel that for a while," I told him.

"I'm not dead?" He asked for clarification.

"No," I reassured.

"And you're a doctor? A woman doctor?"

"Yes, Captain," I told him and I sat back down on the little chair. "I work out of Tortuga mostly. Sometimes I'm over at Port Royal."

He paused for a moment before he asked, "how would you feel about a life at sea?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, we could use a pirate doctor upon the Pearl. I know for a fact that this is not the last time I'm going to need a doctor."

I chuckled softly. I had been wanting to do something a little different, and I think that working on the Black Pearl may be just the adventure I need.

"Well, someone is going to have to change your dressings," I said with a slight chuckle, giving him my answer.

Jack grinned druggily at me with his gold teeth. "Welcome aboard, Dr. Woodall."

Chapter 36: Pirates of the Caribbean: First Marooning

Chapter Text

Eleanor's POV
1717

The sun rose once again on the deserted island I was banished to about a month ago.

That meant I was still alive.

Dammit.

The sunrises and the sunsets are magical on this island, but the hours in between are utterly dreadful. I'd rather die than be trapped in this personal hell.

I was trying to sail to the New World from England and find my family who moved there before I could. No ship was willing to take me, until I convinced a captain that I was a cabin boy. We had just sailed out of the islands when the wind knocked my hat off and revealed my long, feminine hair. Revealing my true identity. Then, they turned around and dropped me off at this island and didn't look back.

My first couple of days was just of me walking around the island in circles, over and over. It was maddening. This is a very small island. I have since spent my days salvaging whatever I could to survive, and rationing the food that they left for me. As each day passes, I get less and less hopeful that I'll ever get off this island.

I was trying to make myself lunch by grabbing a fallen coconut and banging the shell against a sharp rock. My clothes were filthy, even though I've tried to wash them in the salt water, but it didn't work and I stopped caring a while ago. My headscarf disappeared in the water so I've been using leaves from the plants of the island to pull my dark hair out of my face, but it hasn't worked very well. My scalp had burned, which was a lot more painful than I would have expected it to be. My skin was so red from burning under the hot sun, I felt like a lobster. I tried to keep all my clothes on all the time, despite it being so hot, just to protect my skin. I haven't seen a single ship cross the path of the island since I've been here. It's just ocean as far as my eye can see.

Suddenly, I heard a commotion on the other side of the island. I dropped the shell of the coconut and used my newfound energy to cut through the trees. I froze when I saw a ship anchored by the shallows, and a man was angrily trudging through the water up to the sand.

My heart started pumping so fast. I was going to be saved! A smile broke over my lips and I raised my arms in the air and shouted, "hey! Hey!"

I ran up to the man and he looked startled to see me. He was soaking wet, including his long, dark dreadlock hair. His eyes widened and his lip flexed, and he thrashed his arms with a slight yelp. I grabbed his shoulders and shook him a little, just to make sure that he wasn't a hallucination. Water droplets from his hat dropped onto his tanned face. I felt his soggy coat under my fingertips and I couldn't stop smiling.

"You've come to save me!" I was almost laughing hysterically. It's been so long since I've seen another human being, and I was so elated that I almost cried.

He squirmed under my grasp. “No."

"What the bloody hell do you mean, no?!" I asked and loosened my grip on the fabric.

"I was justviscouslymutinied upon," he said, like his problems were the most important. He pointed out to the ocean and said, "me first-mate just stole my ship."

My heart dropped with my smile. I looked out at the massive pirate ship and saw that it was sailing away.

I gasped and pushed the pirate away from me as I ran to the waves. I heard him grunt and stumble in the sand but I didn't care. I jumped up and down and waved my arms above my head to try to get their attention, "hey! Hey! Come back!"

The ship ignored me and kept sailing away. I finally gave up and let my arms crash down by my sides. I was breathing heavy, and I let out a frustrated huff. I turned and walked back to the pirate and crossed my arms in annoyance.

"This island isn't very big, is it?" He asked while looking around.

"Not at all," I spat.

"You look bloody awful. What happened to you?" He asked, not very kindly.

"Same as you," I stated, "I was left here."

"What did you do?"

"What didyoudo?" I asked with a higher voice.

"Absolutely nothing," he said and stuck his nose up in the air and squinted at me.

"I did nothing too."

He eyed me suspiciously but said, "fine. We've both done nothing to deserve this grim fate. How long have you been here?"

"Little over a month, I think. I'm almost out of food," I told him. I tried to run my fingers through my hair, but the knots and tangles were so big that they stopped my fingers.

"Blimey," he groaned and fell back into the sand. He looked up at me and said, "since we will probably die in each others arms just to be discovered decades from now with our skeletal remains intertwined in an eternity of affection, I might as well introduce me-onsie. Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Captain?" I scoffed, looking him up and down. He didn't seem much like a captain to me.

His eyes narrowed at me. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Aren't captains supposed to have a ship?"

"I do have a ship! Were you not listening?"

"It's just that... you're here... without a ship... because it went that way. You see?" I pointed out at the horizon towards his old ship.

"I really don't care for your attitude," Jack snapped.

"I'm just going to call you Jack. Fair?"

He rolled his eyes, but didn't argue with me. "What do I call you?"

"Eleanor."

"Eleanor," he repeated. "Do you go by Ellie?"

"No, not really, no," I said.

"You do now."

I glared down at the pirate, and figured he was about my age. He seemed young, almost too young to be a ship captain. I haven't spent a lot of time with pirates, but they all seem so ugly and gross and old. Jack seemed young, and he certainly wasn't ugly. Smelled bad? Yes. But I do too so I can't say anything.

"Whatcha got there?" I asked, looking at the weapon poking out of his sash around his waist.

He looked down and said, "a shirt."

"No, not that, you twit. That there." I pointed.

"The pistol?" He asked.

"Why'd they let you keep that?" I asked.

"So I can shoot myself before I starve," he stated and leaned back against his hands.

My eyebrows shot up. "We can line our heads up, and I can trust that you'll pull the trigger."

I was miserable on this island. My stomach was tight, and my energy was long gone. I was slowly dying already. I've been living off of coconuts, which gets old very quickly. What I wouldn't give to eat a fruit pastry or even some bread. I'd trade a limb just for a bite.

Jack shook his head. “No. There's only one shot. This won't do much good hunting, nor to be rescued. But after three weeks of a starving belly and thirst, that pistol will start to look real friendly. But this is for me mutinous first-mate, Barbossa."

"Or, you can use it for what it's intended to be used for," I suggested.

"I'm saving this very pistol and bullet just for him," he said stubbornly.

"Why don't you just get another bullet later?" I asked.

"It's the principle of the thing. And irony."

"You have a lot of confidence that you'll get off this island," I stated.

"Why don't you use your own?" He asked.

"I didn't get one."

"It's customary to give to one to a marooner," Jack stated.

"I guess they didn't get the memo."

"Then you're out of luck, I'm afraid," he said and put the pistol back into his belt.

I sighed. At least I wasn't alone anymore. I was going a little stir-crazy without anyone to talk to. Jack was frustrating me already, but it's probably just because I am starving.

I was gathering wood for a fire when I looked off towards the water and saw Jack sitting with his legs crossed, facing the horizon. He was sitting in the shallows, so the warm water was up to his chest. He almost looked like he was meditating.

I called out, "hey, what are you doing?"

"I'm trying to get the animals to get acclimated to my presence," he reasoned.

I tried to hold back my laughter because I knew that he was serious. "What are you going to do? Rope together a couple of sea-turtles and ride on their shells back to civilization?"

"Don't be ridiculous. What would I use for rope?"

"Hair. From your back!"

"That's not a bad idea..."

"That's not gonna work!" I called out. He was already growing mad from the heat and lack of food.

He muttered something in response, but I kept going with my duties. I tried not to pay him any mind, because he was weird and was becoming more and more strange as time went on. He refused to sit in the shade for long, so I'm certain that the heat was burning away his remaining brain cells by the minute.

Jack later came stomping up to me with soggy boots and wet clothes and he muttered, "it didn't work."

"I told you," I said and used my hands to break open one of the last mangos I had and handed him half of it.

"Do you have anything to drink?" He asked after he took a juicy bite of the yellow mango.

"I have a bit of freshwater left," I said.

He grimaced and said, "I was hoping for something a little more... euphoric."

I paused and asked, "you mean alcohol?"

He smiled and put his finger to the tip of his nose. “Aye, that's the one."

I finished my half of the mango and tossed the pit into a bush. Jack followed me as I walked toward a cluster of trees to grab some dry leaves to aid in our night-fire. "I'm sorry, Jack, but we don't exactly have options. Besides, alcohol is dehydrating."

Jack's nose twitched and he said, "I can smell it."

"You can't smell anything."

"I can smell it."

"We don'thaveanything. Don't you get that? We are on a deserted island."

"Why don't you ferment some of that coconut water you love so much and make some. Because I—"

"That sounds disgusting," I interrupted him.

"Oh. Why don't you stop lying to yourself."

"Why do you want rum so bad?"

"Maybe so I can, I don't know, shove it up your arse," he snapped.

"You're vile," I hissed.

Jack groaned, but then he froze. He looked up at me and raised his eyebrows and then he pulled out his compass. It was attached to his belt, but he carefully lifted the lid and watched the needle spin.

"What good will that do you?" I asked. I pointed towards the west and said, "the sun sets that way. That's all you need to know to figure the rest out."

"Shh. This isn't an ordinary compass," Jack stated. I noticed that the needle fixed in a particular direction and Jack began following it.

I trailed behind him, but then he froze and turned around. He nearly bumped into me, so I stepped out of his way. He kept getting turned around and he eventually gave up. "It should be right here."

"What?" I asked.

He put his compass away and said, "the thing I want most."

"Maybe it's broken," I said.

Jack dramatically fell back into the sand. He let his head smack the ground, but I heard him hit something hard. He grunted and his hat fell off. Jack crunched up and rubbed the back of his head. "What the bloody hell was that?"

I shrugged. "I'm not sure."

We both exchanged curious looks, then we looked at the ground at the same time. Whatever it was, he was sitting on it.

I dropped all the leaves I was holding in my hands and got down on my knees beside Jack. We both started digging frantically in the sand. We finally brushed sand off of a metal ring, and we looked up at each other at the same time.

We both scrambled up to our feet and Jack yanked the ring up, and a wooden lid lifted up. I was still halfway standing on it, and his tremendous strength caused me to launch in the air. I screamed and spazzed my arms and legs in fright and then I landed on my shoulder.

I groaned and rolled over to my back. I held my shoulder with my other arm and cracked it back in place with a tight scream.

"My bad," was all Jack said as he tossed the lid open, and the hinges squeaked.

"It's okay. Just pain," I coughed out.

"I knew it," I heard Jack say quietly.

I heard wooden steps creak as Jack stepped down, and I sat up and cracked my shoulder again. I bent my elbow and rolled my arm around to get my shoulder to stop grinding. I peered into the hidden room and saw lots of bottles and even barrels of what was probably rum.

Jack grabbed as many as his hands could hold and climbed back up to me. He wiggled the bottles by his head and he said, "I know what I'm going to do."

Jack scampered on down to the sand and I shot up to my feet and was right on his heels. He popped the cork with his teeth and began drinking the harsh liquid like it was water. When he finally stopped to take a breath, he said, "I hope this rum makes me feel much better because now I'm annoyed."

"You cannot spend all day sitting on the beach drinking rum," I spat.

"What else is there to do, darling?" Jack asked.

"Trying to find a way off," I said, "communicating to help each other survive... there is a lot we can do without getting blootered."

"What's the fun in that?" Jack asked.

"This isn't about fun, this is about survival," I told him angrily.

"I am surviving," Jack stated.

"You haven't even been here a day."

"And I think I've done pretty well," he said.

"Are you always this annoying?"

Jack took the bottle and began chugging it like it was the end of the world. When he was done, he looked at me and said, "I don't remember what the question was but it doesn't matter, I'm not going to answer it anyway."

I rolled my eyes and said, "I'm going to prepare for nightfall. It gets cold at night, Jack, and I'm not going to let you near my fire."

"Fine."

I began walking away and I shouted over my shoulder, "I mean it!"

"Fine!" He yelled back.

I stomped back to the hidden room where I left all the dry leaves. I squat down and picked them all back up again and brushed the sand off of them. When I turned around, Jack was right in front of me. He left his little pile of rum bottles back in the sand and he was offering to help me gather supplies for the fire. I smiled and handed him the leaves.

Jack sat on the island shore, while I was standing with my feet in the water. We were both listening to the soft waves that broke on the sand. The sun had already gone down, so the stars were shining down on us. We had made a fire in the sand, which I hoped would burn until dawn.

"Ellie, come 'ere," I heard Jack say behind me.

I turned around towards him and asked, "what?"

"Come 'ere," he said again while waving me over with his hand that was holding a bottle of rum.

I walked over to him, and his arm was raised but then he pointed down. "Bring it down on the haunches."

"You want me to squat?" I asked.

Jack nodded. “Haunch it."

I bent my knees and squatted down in front of him. I rested my forearms on my knees and waited for him to say something.

"We seem to have found ourselves in an interesting situation," Jack stated. He put one hand behind him to rest against while his other hand was busy bringing the bottle of rum to his lips.

"How so?" I asked. I do admit, this was a unique circumstance.

"You very well may be the last company I have before we both die from starvation. Granted we don't die from thirst first."

I love how positive he is.

"That's a very real possibility," I stated.

"Should we make our last moments together... memorable?" He smirked.

"When I'm desperate, you'll be the first."

He opened his arms and nearly fell back as he said, "that's all I'm asking for."

I stood up shakily and felt my knees crack. I was so weak from hunger, I didn't want to do anything. There's going to be someday where I'm so weak and I won't be able to stand. I'll die where I lay. I have been rationing my water, so I was incredibly thirsty too. Luckily, coconut water has been able to quench my thirst but I hate coconut water.

"I still can't believe that man sailed away with my ship," Jack stated glumly.

"How does that just happen?" I asked. I stepped closer and sat in the sand beside him.

"It's hard to argue with dozens of men with guns in your face, dearie. You do what they say. And they told me to jump. Mark my words, I'll get me ship back, even if it takes me the rest of my life."

"What's so special aboutthatship?" I asked. "It's just a ship."

"She's notjusta ship," he whined. He sat up straight and set his rum bottle down in the sand and lifted his arms out expressively. "She symbolizes freedom. I could go anywhere I wanted to go."

"Why did your crew mutiny against you?" I asked.

"We were off to find the treasure of Isla de Muerta," Jack began his story. "We were three days out when me first-mate said, 'everything's an equal share. That means the location of the treasure too'. So, I gave up the bearings. I play things closer to the vest now, a hard-learned lesson that is. That's why I won't use my one-shot, I'm saving it for my mutinous first-mate, Barbossa."

"I don't blame you for wanting to kill Barbossa," I said. I would want to kill him too if he did that to me. The person you're supposed to trust the most becoming your biggest enemy is terrifying.

Jack lifted up his rum bottle and said, "here's to the silver sea, and the golden moon. But most importantly, he's a toast to you and me. Me and you."

I clanked my glass to his and sighed. He took a gulp of his own, and let out a small burp.

"I still think this is asinine," I stated and peered into my translucent green bottle and swirled the liquid around.

"Why do you use expensive words? Use simple ones," Jack said.

"We are going to die out here," I sighed.

"I know you don't know me very well, yet, but I'm not exactly in good terms with the big man upstairs so I hope you don't mind," Jack said and cleared his throat. He began singing a Christian hymn, "Amazing Grace, how sweet... the sauce."

"Sauce?" I asked with a gentle laugh. "You have to get the words right otherwise he will know you're trying to trick him."

"You're probably right," Jack sighed. He grunted and let his head hang back, and I followed his gaze up to the stars in the heavens. "Look up there. It's the Little Dipper."

"The what?" I asked.

"The Little Dipper," he repeated and laid down in the sand.

"I gathered that," I said sarcastically. "But what is it? All I see are a bunch of little dots."

Jack's head rolled towards me and he put his warm hand up on my shoulder and said, "lay down."

I followed his instruction and I lowered myself to the sand beside him. He rolled towards me and propped himself up on his elbow and used his right hand to gingerly tilt my head by nudging my chin with his first two fingers. "There. Connect the dots of the stars, it looks like a bowl with a handle. Along the handle, is the North Star. Do you see it?"

I let my head relax and I looked up at the stars. Then I finally saw it. I spotted the brightest star at the end of the constellation, and I was able to find the rest easily. I smiled and said, "I see it."

"That's a good lass," Jack said and rested back into the sand.

"If I knew about these interesting shapes in the stars, I would have not had so many boring nights on this beach," I stated with a little chuckle.

Jack's head rolled to me, so I looked over at him too. He is a very handsome man, and moments like these made him tolerable. I think he liked me too. The moonlight glistened off his gold tooth when he smiled and he asked, "want to see another?"

I smiled back. “Yeah."

Jack and I spent our few nights together finding different constellations in the velvet sky. My favorite was Orion the Hunter. Our days consisted of Jack drinking rum, and me taking the role of survival seriously. Jack was practically living off the rum, which was fine by me. More coconut water for me.

On the third day that Jack was with me, I was on the other side of the island trying to climb a tree to gather coconuts for us later. I was about half-way up the trunk when I heard Jack shouting my name.

"Eleanor! Ellie! Ellie! El-ea-nor!" He shouted. I frowned and looked down at the ground, and Jack came running to the trunk.

"What?" I asked loudly.

"Ship! Big ship!" He called up at me. He kept shifting his weight between his two feet and thrashed his arms around in grand gestures. "They're coming!"

I gasped and tried desperately to climb down the trunk. My hand slipped and I began quickly sliding down the trunk, screaming on my way down. I fell on top of Jack, who I assumed was trying to catch me, and we both collapsed to the ground.

I shook the sand out of my tangled hair and Jack was already on his feet. He offered me his hand and helped me up. We both ran to the side of the island where the ship was coming from, and we heard them ring a bell, telling us that they saw us.

"Yes! Oh my god, we're saved!" I shouted happily.

Jack laughed triumphantly and wrapped his arms around me. We both twirled happily in the sand, overjoyed to be finally getting off the wretched island. We let go of each other, and waited for their little boat to leave the ship to come to us.

The people on the small boat reached the shore, and Jack and I ran up to them. Jack was terribly drunk, I don't even think he was sober when he arrived, but he managed to charm them into letting us barter passage on their ship.

They agreed, but told us that we had to help load some of the rum off of their boat. Apparently, they are rum-runners and they had been using this island as a cache. They weren't very happy that Jack had drank some of their rum, but since they're an illegal business there wasn't much they could do about it.

We helped them load some of the rum off of their little boat, adding to the collection in the underground room. They closed the lid, and covered the wood with sand so it was once again hidden from view.

They let us onto their boat and they rowed us to their ship. When we got there, they explained our situation and we were allowed to stay.

Jack told them excitedly, "this is the day you will always remember as the day your crew was joined by Captain Jack Sparrow."

I was light headed from how hungry I was. I sat on a crate that was on the deck, and rested my elbows on my knees. I never want to eat another coconut for the rest of my life.

One of the rum-runners came over to me and offered me a cup of fresh water and some meat and bread. I was starving, but my severe lack of eating over the past month had shrunk my stomach so I could barely eat any of it. My stomach was cramping, but I forced myself to eat as much of it as I could without throwing up. I had to pace myself, but I managed to eat quite a bit.

Jack had told me about his plans to reunite with Barbossa just to kill him, but I just wanted to see my family again.

Once we sailed to a populated island in the Caribbean, I walked over to Jack. He was standing at the railing of the ship, looking out at the emerging island port we were sailing to.

I asked, "what are you going to do now, Jack?"

"I have a mind to find the treasure of Isla de Muerta," he said with a slight squint of his dark and mysterious eyes. Jack peered over at me and asked, "would you like to join me on my adventures, darling? It wouldn't be nearly as much fun without you."

I smiled softly at him. "Thank you, Jack, but no thank you. I've got a little business I have to take care of first."

"As you wish, Miss. Ellie. I hope we cross paths again soon. Perhaps we will meet again in the New World, but I seriously doubt it. You'll have to come back."

I smiled warmly at him. "I will. Bye, Jack."

Jack tipped his hat at me and swaggered off the ship, going down the dock as if he owned the place. We were at a port called Tortuga, I believe. Jack is an odd guy, but he seemed determined to get his ship back. I hope someday I do run into him again, and he's once again the most fearsome pirate in his own mind.

Chapter 37: Pirates of the Caribbean: Children's Hospital

Chapter Text

Y/N's POV

I've been working at my local children's hospital for a few years now. I'm a nurse, but sometimes I come in on my days off and I read and play with the kids and their siblings. I love my job.

During my second Halloween season working at the hospital, I came into work with different costumes that coordinated with my scrubs. The kids loved it so much, my boss asked me if I could come in with costumes year round. It made them all so happy, so I did it without any hesitation. I have dressed up as Supergirl, a princess, a mouse, and I even took requests. But my favorite to dress up as was a pirate. I would incorporate the character into whatever I had to do to make it a fun experience for the kids. Once, I dressed as a vampire and I said I had to draw their blood for my dinner. Of course they all know it's all in good fun. They suffer so much, they deserve some happiness. The kids all knew who I was, and I had a ton of fun. I think it's safe to say that I was their favorite nurse.

One day I was reading a book on my day off and I got a call from my boss. I had a mini-heart attack when I thought that I accidentally missed a shift so I nervously answered.

"Y/n, I know you don't work today but we were hoping you could come in."

I checked the time and saw it was approaching the afternoon. I hissed through my teeth and said, "I'm not sure if I can get there on time."

"You're really gonna want to come in today."

"Why?" I asked. I got nervous that one of the kids was getting sicker and I might have to say a final goodbye.

She giggled softly and said, "I'm sorry, I can't tell you. But you're really gonna want to come in."

Her laughter made me relax, knowing that it wasn't anything bad. I chuckled, "fine, I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Great. Wear your pirate costume."

"Why?"

"I gotta go, see you soon," she said and hung up.

Puzzled, I hung up and began racing around my apartment trying to get ready. My pirate costume is boring, because I'm working on a budget. It's just black scrub pants with a cheap puffy white shirt and a red sash around my waist. Weapons, even plastic, aren't really allowed so I don't have a sword but I do have a little water gun that I was given permission to have. I found a black handkerchief that I used to tie around my head and fixed my (h/c) hair around it. I stared at myself in the mirror as I put some eyeshadow marks around my cheeks to resemble dirt and rolled black eyeliner around my (e/c) eyes. I grabbed a cheap eye patch and put it in the pocket of my scrub pants and headed out the door.

When I pulled up to the hospital and walked inside, I didn't see my boss. I've been working there for a long time, so I knew exactly where to go and what to do. I figured I was just going to read to some of the kids since it's my day off.

I walked past the rooms, and a lot of them were surprisingly empty. I was confused, but I finally found a kid who was resting. Her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree when she saw me.

"Nurse Y/n!" She exclaimed and shot out of bed.

Courtney has been a patient here for a few months now. She's had to spend the night the past couple of nights because of stomach issues, but she's a sweetheart. I've helped her with her third grade homework before, and we practiced our cursive together.

"Hey, how's it going?" I asked and returned her hug.

"Good. We have a visitor today."

"Who?" I asked.

She shrugged, "I dunno. But everyone is with him. Do you want to go to the game room with me? No one should be in there."

"Sure," I said and took her hand. We skipped down the hall and I realized I forgot to put my eyepatch on. I figured that I would do it later. We reached the game room and she opened the doors.

The game room is where the kids and their siblings come to play together. We have board games, toys, and cards, but we recently got a Virtual Reality video game as well. I've never played it before, but it was always being used by someone.

"Can you play?" She asked and handed me the eye cover and the consoles that go in my hands.

"Doyouwant to play?" I asked as she turned on the television screen. I'm glad she knew how to turn it on, because I certainly didn't.

"No. I'd rather just watch you."

"Okay," I chuckled as she set it up. She pondered over the games for a moment before she picked one. She put it in, and got it started. I asked her, "how do I play?"

Courtney set it up and explained to me that the goggles were going to go over my eyes, and I would wear thick headphones. The joysticks were going to be my hands in the Virtual Reality, and she would be able to hear everything I did through the speakers and see everything I see on the screen. When I moved in real life, my avatar would move as well.

She helped me attach the goggles to my head and I no longer saw the play room. I was now on the deck of a pirate ship in a storm. I carefully spun around, and heard the cracklings of thunder over my head. I winced at the sudden sound, and I could hear Courtney laughing through the headphones.

"This freaks me out," I said rather loudly. I could not hear myself very well.

I kept darting my head at every sound the game gave me. I whipped around and became face to face with a pirate on the deck. I recognized him as Captain Jack Sparrow. I loved the Pirates of the Caribbean movies growing up, which was one reason why I decided to dress up as a pirate for the kids. Jack was my favorite Disney character of all time.

Jack's avatar asked, "who are you and why are you on me ship? Stand up straight. Take out your sword and fight for it!"

I stammered as I saw him unshield his sword and wait for me. I tried pressing the buttons I could feel on the joysticks, but nothing happened. I tried to take off the VR goggles but Courtney made me stop.

"How do I take out the sword?" I asked. I felt her fingers graze mine as she helped me find the right button and my avatar's sword finally came out.

She moved my headphone a bit so I could hear her better. She said, "use this," and put something in my hand. It felt heavier, and carefully grazed my fingers over it. I realized that it was a plastic sword. I figured that it must have come with the game.

"Fight!" Jack said. He looked so realistic, it freaked me out when he tried to jab my character with a sword. It was like he was right there. I instinctively dodged it and brought my hand up. The sword began to vibrate as if it struck another sword.

"Woah!" I exclaimed and kept fighting. It was so realistic. It was so much fun, and I could hear Courtney laughing as well. I was so happy to be bringing her so much joy.

After a minute or so of fighting with VR Jack, my character won the match. "Oh! You got me! The Black Pearl is yours, on one more condition. You shall sail with me until we find the treasure of Loch Ness. Savvy?"

I turned around before I set the joysticks down and took off the headphones. I took off the goggles and handed them to Courtney, before noticing that everyone was standing behind her with big grins on their faces.

"That game is so cool," I stated. I didn't realize they were all watching. "I've never played it before now. I could literally feel the sword fighting in my hands. It was like I was there."

Technology is incredible.

"That's because you were, love," I heard behind me. I froze before my nurse friends all nodded at me with big smiles on their faces.

My blood ran cold when I heard the voice I know far too well. I slowly spun around until I came face to face with the real Captain Jack Sparrow. My jaw dropped, and he extended his arms out to me. He held a plastic sword in his hand, and I saw a twinkle in his eye. Johnny kept his character up by asking, "who're you?"

I was almost speechless, but everyone was watching. I thought the kids would love it if I played along. I wiped my starstruck smile off my face and squinted at Johnny as if I had no clue who he was. I asked, "who're you?"

"I asked you first."

"I asked you second. First worst, second best," I stated childishly and put my eyepatch over my eye.

Johnny tried not to laugh as he said, "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

"I'm... Y/n."

"Well, Y/n, there's only room for one pirate in these waters." He wiggled his sword, and I looked down and noticed that I was holding one too. Courtney must have switched it out with the joystick I thought I was holding. Was she the one controlling the VR while I was dueling the real Jack?

"I'm not sure if you saw on that screen, Jack, but I creamed you. And I'll gladly do it again."

"Those are fighting words. Let's see if your bite is worse than your bark."

I wiggled my fingers at him and said, "bring it on."

As if on cue, we began sword fighting in the game room. The kids were cheering us on, and everyone was laughing and having a good time. Our fight led us out of the room and into the hallway. We were sneaking past the rooms of kids who couldn't get out of bed, and we let them watch as their favorite nurse was sword fighting against a famous pirate.

I ran around to Courtney and handed her the sword. "Finish him, Courtney."

She stepped up to Johnny and started slashing the sword at him from all directions. He yelped and she hit his arm, and he dramatically dropped the sword at his feet. He begged for mercy, and she let out a soft giggle.

Jack scrambled back up to his feet and made his way over to me. He kept his Jack persona on, for the kids, as he said, "you're not too bad for a lass who has picked up her first sword."

"Thank you," I chuckled. I was beaming at his English accent. I admired his elaborate costume up close, and I wanted to touch his wig so bad but I kept my hands off. I felt so starstruck and giddy around him, but I'm sure he's used to it.

"I'm Johnny," he formally introduced in a low voice since the kids weren't paying much attention to him anymore. He dropped his Jack-accent and turned into himself before my eyes.

"Y/n," I said again.

"That's your real name?" He asked. He must have thought I pulled a name out of my ass for the pirate debate.

I nodded. “Yeah."

"It's beautiful," he said. He sounded honest. I could listen to him talk for hours.

"Thank you."

"How long have you worked here?"

"A few years," I replied. "I really love it. These kids are so strong."

"I can tell that they really like you as well," he said, "when I got here, they were so excited for you to come so we could meet."

"Really?" I smiled. "That's really sweet."

"It was that little Courtney's idea to do that video-game bit," he stated.

I chuckled, "she's so creative."

"Did you know I was in there?" He asked and scratched the side of his nose.

I chuckled, "not a clue. I didn't even know you were coming in today."

"You didn't?" He asked. His eyebrow cocked in doubt as he looked down at my outfit.

"I was told to wear this," I defended myself.

"I'm glad you did. That way, I can do this." He stepped up and got all the kids attention by waving his arms in the air and yelling, "oi!"

When everyone was looking at him, he pointed at me and said in his Jack voice, "whoever can first find the key to open the treasure chest, gets the loot! Clue: it's not on me."

"What?" I asked.

"Get her!" Johnny announced and gestured for the kids to follow me.

"Ah!" I yelped and began running down the hallway, slow enough for the kids to be right on my heels but not too slow that I was going to get mobbed by them.

"Today is the day you will always remember as the day that you almost caught Captain Jack Sparrow!" Johnny shouted before bolting out the door.

I laughed and shook my head. I knew he wasn't leaving yet, but was probably just going to another wing in the hospital. It was so surreal to see him, and he was so nice because he genuinely wanted to get to know me. I hope I work every day that Johnny comes to visit the kids.

Chapter 38: 21 Jump Street: Princess Watch

Chapter Text

Tom Hanson's POV

Fuller called us to our table in the chapel and said, "I've got a very special assignment for one of you."

"Who gets it?" Doug asked.

Fuller slowly walked around us, as if playing Duck-Duck-Goose. He stopped at me and placed the case file in front of me.

"What is it?" I asked and flipped it open. On top of all the papers was a picture of a beautiful woman. The portrait was of her positioned on a chair, sitting on a slight slant. Her long dark hair was curled and pinned around her head in an elaborate style, and she wore a beautiful purple gown. But it was the crown on her head that caught my attention. If it weren't in color, I would have assumed it was taken centuries ago. "Woah, hello."

"What?" Doug asked and looked over my shoulder. I grabbed the photo between my middle and index finger and bent my elbow to hold it up in the air. He snatched it from my fingers and studied it as I began to read my case file. "Who's this?"

"That, my friend, is Alexandra Louise Dorothea Isabella Godwinson, Princess of Molympia," Fuller said.

Doug almost choked on his granola bar. "Princess?!"

My lips came apart in complete and utter shock.

"Where is Molympia?" Judy asked, just as stunned as the rest of us.

"It's a small country in Europe," Fuller said.

"What do I have to do?" I asked.

"You're going to fly out to Molympia to meet her. She's expecting you. Then, you're going to accompany her on her flight to Metropolis," Fuller said.

"Why does Tom get all the good cases?" Ioki complained and threw his pencil onto the table in a pout.

"Why does Tom get to go over there?" Judy whined.

"Because Princess Alexandra recently turned twenty-one. According to the rules and laws of Molympia, she is eligible to become Queen," Fuller began to explain.

"Who is the Queen now?" Judy asked.

"Her grandmother, Queen Genevieve. She wants to step down, and Princess Alexandra is next in line for the throne. She has been preparing for it her entire life, and the media is having a circus over there about the change in power."

"I'm confused. Why does she need officers from the States?" I asked. "Don't they have their own guards and stuff?"

"Her coronation is scheduled a month from today. However, threats to her life were recently made. Some people are not very pleased that a twenty-one year old will be the most powerful person in the country, so they are determined to eliminate her. The Queen asked us personally if we would protect her granddaughter at their 574th annual ball in their country for a business-as-usual type of thing, then take her under our custody to Metropolis until the situation over there is under control."

"Was her coronation postponed?" Judy asked.

"No, they intend to keep the date," Fuller said, "listen, Tom, I need you on your best behavior."

"I always am."

He eyebrows lifted and he said, "I mean it."

"I will," I promised.

"Where will she be kept until it's safe for her to go back to Molympia?" Doug asked.

"She will seek shelter at Tom's place. I mean, if that's all right," Fuller said.

He did sort of spring it onto me, but I wasn't going to say no to letting a Princess stay at my apartment. "I mean, yeah, I just have to clean a little."

"Great. It just has to be a place where she will be watched and made sure that no one can see her. Her upcoming coronation has made world-wide news so no one outside of this room can know that she's here. Got it?"

We all mumbled in agreement.

"Can you imagine if she invites us to go to her coronation?" Judy day-dreamed.

"Come on, focus," Fuller said.

"If she's gonna invite anyone, it's gonna be Tom. She's gonna live with him.” Doug rolled his eyes.

I smiled at him brashly. I turned to my case file and began reading the first page.

Fuller said, "you can do that on the flight. You've got a plane to catch."

I looked up at him. "Now?"

"Yeah. Now. The taxi is waiting. Go."

Alexandra's POV

Every year, my grandmother throws a ball to celebrate the Independence Day of our beautiful country. I used to look forward to it every year, but lately it's been so taxing. It's more of a chore, but I do it anyway to bring honor to my family and country.

My dark brown hair was curled and styled so beautifully, as it always is when I'm out in public. It was especially fancy since I was preparing for a ball. I stood in front of my vanity in my bedroom of the castle, and smoothed out my cherry red dress. Red compliments my skin tone the most.

I carefully opened a drawer to my vanity, where I keep my most expensive jewelry under lock and key. I gingerly picked up my diamond necklace and carefully placed it over my collarbones and clasped it behind my neck. Once that was settled, I grabbed the priceless tiara I've had since I was a child and locked eyes with myself in the mirror as I carefully placed it on my head. Soon, this will be replaced with my grandmothers crown that is almost as old as our country.

I took a deep breath, and gazed at my makeup in the mirror. I didn't have a hair out of place, and I was ready to head downstairs to the ball.

I quietly opened my bedroom doors and stepped out onto the marble floor. I shut the door behind me, and began making my way to the staircase. Royalty is under scrutiny all the time, so I must always put my best foot forward—both literally and figuratively. I learned how to walk the old fashioned way, by balancing a book on my head.

I placed my hand on the gold railing of the castle staircase and kicked my foot out ever so gently so I didn't step on the skirt of my dress. The crowd of guests down in the ballroom all froze at my presence, and bowed or curtsied. I smiled pleasantly at everyone, but I didn't acknowledge anyone until I was down on solid ground.

I waved gracefully at my people, all supporting me through this difficult time in all of our lives. My grandmother has been the Queen of Molympia for over fifty years, so passing the power onto me is a big deal. And, the threats made against me have kept me on edge. I didn't even want to come to this ball, but my grandmother insisted we pretend like it's business as usual. After this, I'm supposed to disappear.

Everyone was in elegant dresses, beautiful ball gowns, and dashing tuxedos. It usually the same guest list every year, but one new guy caught my eye. He had brown hair that was a little messy in an attractive way, and I thought I could cut my finger on his sharp cheekbones. He was standing alone, which piqued my interest.

My secretary came up beside me and said in a low voice, "you're late, your highness."

Delia has been working for my family for many years now. She schedules all of our meetings, and keeps us informed about everything we need to know. She's an important figure in my life, and we have a close mother-daughter type of relationship. I care for her deeply.

Through my polite smile I told her, "I'm not late. Everyone else is simply early."

"The Officer from the United States is here," she told me.

"Already?" I asked and leaned towards her slightly. "Who?"

"That one.” She pointed to the attractive guy standing alone. He was holding a champagne glass up and nearly dropped it. He caught it and nodded at a guy walking past, and lifted the glass up in cheers.

"A little clumsy," I giggled softly. That's cute.

"He is quite nice. I'll take you to him."

I slowly followed behind Delia as she walked me over to the guy. He noticed us coming his way, and his eyes grew wide before he gulped the rest of his drink. He placed the glass down on a platter that a waiter was holding near him.

"Officer Hanson, this is Alexandra Louise Dorothea Isabella Godwinson, Princess of Molympia," Delia introduced us.

"Your highness," he said and lowered his chest into a bow. He had a deep, American accent that I found attractive.

"Just Alexandra is quite all right," I said with a small smile. "The whole thing is just... far too long."

"It's an honor," he said, "and you can call me Tom."

"Alexandra, are you packed?" Delia asked me.

I nodded. “Indeed, I have a suitcase packed and ready for our departure tonight."

"Are you prepared to leave right after the ball?" Delia asked Officer Hanson.

"Yes, ma’am.” He nodded.

"There should be enough time for you both to change before your flight is scheduled to leave," Delia said.

"Are we taking a commercial flight?" He asked.

I shook my head. “No. We have our own plane."

"Fancy."

I giggled, "yes, it is."

"I'm glad we are on the same page," Delia said with a smile. She turned to me and said, "if I don't see you again before you leave, then I will see you at your coronation. All right?"

"All right." I smiled at her. She left after giving me a hug and kissing my cheek.

The live band began playing a popular American song in our country, but the instrumental version of it. I peered at Tom, and held my hand out to him.

"Would you care to dance with me?" I offered him my hand.

"Me? Oh, no. I don't dance," he said with a nervous chuckle.

"Neither do I," I joked.

One of the guests near us said to Tom, "if the future Queen of Molympia offers to dance with you, you dance with her."

Tom chuckled and finally took my hand. I walked slowly and calmly to the dance floor, surrounded by other couples doing the same waltz.

I stood face to face with Tom and I couldn't help but smile at him. He made me feel so giddy, like a school-girl.

"First, you put this hand on the small of my back. Very good. Now, hold my hand with your other hand, and just follow my lead," I instructed.

I put my free hand on his broad shoulder and began making the steps in the waltz, making sure that I was going especially slow for the clueless American. He stepped on my foot and immediately apologized.

"It's all right, just focus."

"I'm trying," he said.

Once the song was over, we pulled apart to clap with everyone else in the ballroom.

Suddenly, a voice boomed out over everyone. The music stopped abruptly, and my eyes widened in fear. Some people in the room gasped and screamed as all of our attention was brought toward the front of the ballroom.

There stood one of the men who had been leading the rebellion to overthrow the monarchy. He wishes to see my head on a platter, and my heart roasting on a spit. He is the personification of evil. His sinister grin was enough to bring chills down my back. My fight-or-flight was beginning to kick in, and I felt Tom step closer to me and he protectively pulled his arm around my back and he pulled me closer to him. My heart was thumping out of my chest and my breath was shaking terribly.

The man announced, "I am part of a revolution that does not believe that Molympia should suffer through the command of another woman. Mark my words, Princess Alexandra will never be Queen. We shall not rest until she is six feet under the ground and everyone will know her as the Last Royal of Molympia."

"Princess, we have to go. Now," Tom said in my ear.

I nodded softly and we pushed through my people who assisted in my safety. Tom held my hand tightly, and I used my other to lift up the skirt of my long dress so I wouldn't trip. We raced off to the front, where a limo was waiting for us. My driver anxiously opened the door for us and we jumped in and we sped off to the airport.

"Are you okay?" Tom asked.

I was breathing hard. I looked out the window to see my castle getting further away and I said, "I hope he won't kill those people."

"Has he done something like that before?"

I nodded and gulped. I leaned back against the seat and placed my hands in my lap. I began fiddling with the fabric to distract myself, but it wasn't working.

We got to the airport and everyone had already been informed of the threat on my life already. I asked around and found that everyone at the ball was safe and accounted for, which made me feel a lot better. Luckily, my suitcase was already on the private plane so we quickly boarded and took off.

I zipped open my suitcase and pulled out some comfier clothes to wear instead of my ball gown. Tom was talking to one of the attendants, so I slipped into the bathroom and locked the door.

It was difficult but I managed to pull off my dress by myself in the small space and I traded it for a pastel purple sweater and dark denim trousers. I turned the water on in the small sink and washed all the makeup off of my face, and let my hair down. I took my tiara off, and carefully placed it on top of my dress, petticoats, and corset. My hair was a little too curly and crazy and full of hairspray for my taste, so I threw it up in a lazy-ponytail.

I folded my dress and it’s under layers neatly in my hands and walked back out to my seat. I tried to place it all in my bag, but ultimately shoved them in and zipped my bag up. I unclasped my necklace and very carefully placed it in a side pocket of my bag. I kept my tiara in my hands, because it's priceless and I wasn't willing to allow anything to happen to it. I didn't want it to get crushed in my bag.

Tom had gotten changed too. Instead of a tuxedo, he was now also wearing denim trousers and an oversized gray blazer over a dark button-down shirt. I sat in the window seat and Tom sat right next to me, despite there being many seats available for him to pick.

"I just wanted to make sure that you were fine with staying at my apartment until it's safe for you to go back to Molympia," Tom said.

I've spent a great deal of my time watching American television, so I knew that apartments were the American word for a flat.

"Yes, I've been made aware.” I nodded.

"Okay, good. You can take my bed, obviously. When we get there I just have to move some things around and I'll change the sheets."

"How kind of you," I said politely.

The flight was nearly nine hours. By the end, I was tired, hungry, and desperate for a warm shower.

When we got to his flat, Tom used a small key to open the door. He pushed the door open and let me walk in first. He came in behind me with my suitcase and he closed the door.

"Sorry, I haven't had a chance to clean up. I found out that you were coming just yesterday morning," Tom said. He put my suitcase down and immediately went straight to his couch and started to pick up old Chinese take-out boxes and empty beer cans.

"That's quiet all right," I replied. I looked around, and realized that this is where I'm going to have to live for the next month. Hopefully not any longer than that. It is small and smells like cheap cologne.

"How about you go take a shower while I clean up in here," he suggested.

"That's a great idea," I said.

He pointed at a nearby room and said, "it's in there."

I grabbed my suitcase and followed his directions and opened the door to his lavatory. I flipped the light on, and rummaged through my things to find some pajamas I could wear, and a bath towel.

I figured out how to turn the water on and I took off my grungy clothes. I stepped into the water and washed the day off of me, and didn't come out until my skin was spotless and my hair was silky smooth once again.

I dried my hair with a towel after I changed into my pajamas. The material is very thin and flowy, which is great for the warm spring months in Molympia. Hopefully the weather is similar here in Metropolis.

I stepped out of the bathroom with my suitcase rolling behind me. I looked around and saw that Tom went on turbo-mode to clean up his entire apartment. It was spotless. It even smelled better, like citrus. Another room had its light on, and I noticed that he was making the bed. I yawned and set my suitcase down on the ground by the wall so it wouldn't be in anyone's way.

Tom came out and asked, "how was your shower?"

"It was wonderful, thank you."

"Great. Are you hungry? Or can I get you something to drink?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Um, the bed is ready for you if you wanna go to bed," he yawned.

The time change was going to be difficult to adjust to, but it's good that I don't have anything else to do while I am here. No responsibilities, no duties. It’ll be like I am on vacation.

"I think I'll do that. Thank you, Thomas."

"Good night, your highness."

"Just call me Alexandra, please."

"Of course, Alexandra."

I smiled and brought my suitcase with me to the bedroom and shut the door.

My couple of weeks in America were boring. I wasn't allowed to step foot outside at all. The only air I was allowed was opening the living room window. The news of how I disappeared had reached the news over here, so everyone in the entire world knows that I am missing and they’re looking for me. My grandmother held a press conference, explaining that I was being protected and reassured that I did not run away from the Crown.

One night, Tom and I were watching an American television program together. He had been introducing me to many American customs. This included games, film, and food. He wasn't allowed to leave the apartment either, because he has to watch me practically 24/7. His coworkers have been coming by with food for us, but I've only met one of them. Harry Ioki. Other than showering and getting dressed, I haven't had an ounce of privacy since I got here.

Tom was standing in his kitchen, slaving away over the stove while I got to relax on the couch in front of the television screen. Tom and I have talked a lot during our awake daylight hours together, and I've become very fond of him. I found him funny, caring, handsome and above all, incredible kind.

He called out from the kitchen, "Alex, I hate to tell you this, but you're gonna need a new babysitter tomorrow night."

"What? Why?" I asked and hugged my knees up to my chest.

I did not pack many comfortable clothes for my trip to the United States, because I did not realize that I was going to have to never leave a single room the entire time. Tom came over with some feminine clothes that he borrowed from a coworker that I was allowed to use, and he said that I could wear anything from his closet. Tonight, I was wearing his gray sweatpants, and my boring green shirt that kept slipping off one of my shoulders.

"Have you heard of the band, Aerosmith?"

"No, I'm afraid not," I told him.

"It's a rock band. My friend Doug is making me go see them perform live in a concert. I promised him I would go months ago."

"You're going to a rock concert?" I asked.

"Mm-hmm," Tom grunted.

I could close my eyes and imagine what attending a rock concert would be like. The collective effervescence and the loud music and the bright lights seem like an absolute blast. I smiled just thinking about it.

"That sounds like very much fun," I said.

"Supposed to be."

"Would you mind if I joined you?" I asked.

"Doug would say yes in a heartbeat," he chuckled. "But no, absolutely not."

"I beg your pardon."

"I said no."

"Why not?"

"Listen, I'm sure you aren't used to being told no, but you're not allowed to go out in public without the significant risk of getting murdered, or mobbed," he said as he walked over to me and gave me a bowl of spaghetti. "And I won't let either of those things happen to you."

I twirled the noodles with my fork and I said, "that's not a good reason."

"Those are just my orders. But my cohort, Judy, is gonna stay with you. She's cool," he said and sat on the couch beside me.

"I don't need a babysitter."

"Maybe not a babysitter, but you need someone watching you just in case those terrorists find you. They really could just burst through that door at any given moment."

I nodded and sighed, "you have a point there."

"Yeah."

"What does one wear to a rock concert?" I asked. "I've never been."

"Like, punk-rock type of clothes. There's an undercover character I use a lot, Tom McQuaid. I just dress like I would if I were him. Spike up my hair, wear headscarves, ripped jeans, spikes, dark clothes, that sort of thing. Have you really never been to a rock concert before?"

I shook my head. "My grandmother always said that concerts aren't proper enough and I'd get my head bitten off if I was caught at one."

"That's harsh.” He blinked.

"I've always wanted to go to one. If I did, I'd have to go before I become Queen though, otherwise I'll never be able to," I said in an attempt to guilt Tom into letting me go with him. I was sick and tired of being locked up in his apartment. I wanted to go out and live while I still could.

"Sorry, Alex, but rules are rules."

I groaned softly and leaned back into the couch. Why can't he bend the rules just once in his life?

The next night, Tom got ready for his night out with his friend. He has been dealing with me for eighteen days straight, he truly did deserve a night off. I’m not exactly the easiest person to get along with.

There was a soft knock at the door and Tom ran over to open it. He greeted the girl who came in and said, "Judy, I'm glad you could make it."

Judy walked in with an excited smile and wide eyes. I walked up to her and she almost squealed.

"Princess! Your majesty."

I chuckled softly and said, "not quite yet."

"Right, your highness, I'm sorry," she said, embarrassed. Her eyes lit up when she said, "oh my goodness, you're wearing my sweater! Princess Alexandra is wearing my sweater!"

I smiled at her kindly. She's very excitable, and had a lot of nervous energy I could not match. I hoped that she would calm down soon.

"Alex, this is Judy. I work with her at Jump Street downtown. She's gonna hangout with you until I come back. Kay?" Tom said.

"Okay," I said.

Tom said his goodbyes, and left.

Judy turned to me like a star struck teenager meeting The Beatles. The look in her eyes was frightening, but I'm used to it. She tried to shake the look off her face and she said, "I've read up a lot about you. I adore that you funded that children's home in your country, and how much you have helped with the relief of the Chernobyl disaster."

"I try to help as much as I can," I said.

"So, what do you want to do?" Judy asked.

"What do you want to do?" I asked her. "I've been trapped in this bloody flat for weeks."

"I'm not sure," Judy said.

I smiled slightly when a fun idea popped into my head. I suggested, "I can teach you how to be a princess."

Her eyes lit up. She seemed to really like that idea. "You can?"

"Of course. But first things first, we have to fix your walk."

"My walk?" She asked.

"Yes," I said and peered at a shelf in Tom's living room and walked over to it. I grabbed two proper size books and handed one to Judy. I placed the other book on the top of my head and walked gracefully across the room. I turned to her and said, "I've had to walk with a book on my head since I was a child."

Judy placed the book on her head and tried to walk. She was stiff and at an odd angle so the book kept slipping off. She chuckled, "this is harder than it looks."

"You mustn't schlump and slouch your shoulders," I said and walked up to her. I placed my hand on her shoulder to press her up and another on her back. "Instead, straighten up. Chin high, and shoulders down. Then, you glide gracefully."

Judy was a little unsteady, but she managed to walk across the room without the book slipping. She turned to me with her arms out in airplane and she said, "I did it!"

"Good job.” I smiled. I suddenly had another idea that I thought she would appreciate. "Wait here."

I ran into my room and carefully grabbed my tiara from my bedside table. I hid it behind my back as I walked back over to Judy. She looked at me confused but then I showed her the tiara and carefully placed it on top of her head in place of the book.

Her eyes widened. “Is this your tiara?"

I nodded. "It's been passed down for many generations. It was first made by an Englishman for Princess Anna in 1598, one of my grandmothers. This is a priceless artifact of the Molympia Crown. After I become Queen, it will remain under lock and key until I have a daughter. Then, it will be hers."

"That's incredible," she said and grazed it gently with her fingertips.

"Now, let's learn how to sit."

"Do I still have to wear the book?" She asked.

"Don't be ridiculous," I said and held my hand out. She gave me the book and I put them both back on the shelf.

We stood beside each other at the couch and she sat down first. She crossed her legs and let her foot bounce.

"No, dear," I said calmly and gracefully sat beside her. I demonstrated as I instructed, "tuck one ankle behind the other and place your hands gracefully on your knees. Princesses never cross their legs in public."

Judy copied my position and said, "wow. This is a lot of rules."

"Not even a fraction of it," I said honestly.

"Everything about your life is really controlled, isn't it?" Judy asked.

I sighed softly and tried to think of the best way I could respond to this. "It is important to be the best person that I can be."

"Especially when you're so young, about to run a country. That's a lot of pressure."

I nodded. "Yes, indeed. This is my entire life, I have never known anything else."

If she has read about me and Molympia, I'm sure she knows that the youngest Queen of our country was coronated when she was twenty-seven, back in 1728. Usually, Queens and Kings are coronated when they are in their thirties or forties. Because my grandmother wishes to leave her position, I must fulfill my duty of being Queen very early. My father would have taken the throne, if he and my mother weren't killed in an automobile accident a decade ago. I am the only living heir.

"I guess you haven't really had a chance to be a kid, huh?" She asked.

"Not in the typical sense," I said, "but I don't mind. I live in a beautiful home, and I have the privilege to be the best person I can be and use my power to help others."

"You know, you're not what I thought you were going to be like," she said.

"Yeah? What did you think I was going to be like?"

"Stuck-up. Rude. A royal pain in the ass."

"You think that being a princess is just superficial?" I asked.

"I did. I thought it was just about what you wear and how you look," Judy said.

"It is a little bit about how you look—" I chuckled "—but it is also about what you have to offer to the world and who you are on the inside."

"You are so down to earth and nice."

"Thank you," I chuckled.

"I can see why Tom likes you."

"What?"

"When he called me, it was hard for him not to talk about you. That doesn't really happen with him."

"Oh," I said. I felt the blood rush to my cheeks. I rarely blush, but I found it so easy when thinking about Tom. I changed the subject by saying, "before I forget, I wanted to personally invite you to my coronation. You, Tom, and your Captain Fuller. I'll ensure to pay for all the accommodations, as a thank you for protecting me and keeping me safe."

"No way! Really?"

I smiled and nodded softly.

"That's awesome! Thank you!" Judy said and threw herself around me in a hug. I hugged her back, but she pulled away and apologized.

"It's okay," I promised. Why are Americans so worried about me? Are they afraid of offending me? I wish they would treat me normally.

My mind kept straying to that concert that Tom was at. I couldn't stop thinking about it, it seems like such a blast. I was trying to think of a way I could sneak out, because I also wanted to be with him.

I yawned and said, "I think I'm going to head to bed."

"Okay. I'll be right out here if you need anything," Judy said and grabbed the television remote. She handed me the tiara back and I held it delicately in my hand.

"All right. Thank you," I said and excused myself to the room I adopted from Tom.

I closed the door and immediately put the tiara away. Then, I searched through my luggage to try to find anything that I'd be able to wear to the rock concert, but I didn't own anything remotely like what Tom suggested. But then I glanced at Tom's closet, and headed over there. I pulled open the door, and was overwhelmed by the amount of options he had. I picked out a few things, and made sure that they fit but it was all a little loose.

I completed the look with some darker eye makeup, and I grabbed a baseball hat of his to hide my hair up in it. I also found a pair of glasses of Tom's, and I peered through the lenses and realized that they had no prescription. I looked at myself in the mirror while applying a dark red lipstick, and I barely recognized myself. If I go out in public like this, no one will notice me.

I got to the door and held my breath as I slowly tuned the doorknob and poked my head out. I gazed over at Judy, who was sitting on the couch. The light from the television was reflecting off of her, and her head was resting against her hand. She was practically asleep.

I heard her light snoring as I tip-toed out of the room. I snuck out of the apartment and carefully shut the front door behind me.

A smile broke across my face as I walked briskly down the hallway. A Princess must never rush, but hasten.

I got to the street and I hailed a taxi, just like they do in the American movies. I've never had to get a taxi in my own country, I don't even drive myself. I have my license, but it technically expires this year. But once I become Queen, my license will legally never expire in my country.

The driver took me straight to the concert venue, and the entrance was surrounded by people still trying to get in. I saw a lot of heavy makeup, ripped denim, leather, and spikes. Little freaky.

I was alone, so I really didn't know what I was doing. I followed a group of friends in front of me, and just did what they did. I quickly realized that I didn't have any money, nor a ticket. The friend group handed the ticket-man a bundle of tickets and they all walked right through, so I blended in with their group and slipped in with them.

I've never been so sneaky and devious in my life. It was thrilling.

The room was ginormous and very dark. The audience was excited for the concert to start, because their talking was all that I could hear besides the music that was playing over the loud speakers. The musical artists weren't on stage yet, so everyone was waiting for them.

I didn't realize how big of an arena this was going to be. There were thousands of people here, and I was looking for a needle in the haystack. I chalked it up as a lost cause, and just followed the friend group all the way to their seats.

Turns out, they didn't have seats. They were in the pit, which is the area within spitting distance of the stage. No one was stopping me, so I just continued to follow them.

Then, I saw a thick head of hair that I'd recognize anywhere, no matter what style it's in. The guy had his back to me, and he wore a long sleeve shirt under his ripped jean vest. I knew in my heart that he was Tom.

I walked right up behind him and tapped his shoulder. He turned to face me, nearly spilling his full cup of beer. He squinted at me, and I smiled because I knew it was Tom.

"Excuse me, buddy, but when does the musician come on?" I asked in the best American accent I could fake.

He stitched his eyebrows together in confusion. I pulled off my hat and the glasses and gave him a smile.

"Alexandra?!" He gasped. He twirled behind him and gave some guy his cup and turned back to me. He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me a few steps away from the crowd. "What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't help myself, I had to come. You can't talk about something like this and expect me to brush it off," I said and put my disguse back on.

"You have to go home. I'm not in the right mind to be working right now."

"Oh, come on, no one is gonna know I'm here. I've lived with you for weeks and you didn't recognize me! Just imagine me as one of your mates."

He looked at me with irritation in his eyes. I smiled back at him with a toothy grin.

"Hey, Tommy, they're about to—" his friend said as he came up behind Tom and froze when he saw me. He asked, "are you Pr—"

"Shh.” I put my finger to my lips. "Don't blow my cover."

"Holy shit," he said.

"Hey, you can't swear in front of a Princess," Tom hissed at him. Tom introduced us. "Alexandra, Doug. Doug, Alexandra."

"Hiya," Doug waved at me. He had long curly brown hair but it was short on the sides, reminded me of a mullet.

The entire crowd erupted into an applause, and Tom and I looked at the stage to see the band coming out.

Tom sighed and looked back at me. "Fine. One song, then we are out of here."

"All right," I agreed.

"I'm not letting you out of my sight."

Tom and I turned our attention to the band, who began playing their first song. Doug handed Tom his drink back, who offered me some. It tasted like piss so I immediately gave it back. I let myself relax, for once, and actually enjoy the concert.

The one song turned into almost every song.

The crowd around us turned into a mosh pit. We were all jumping around each other and feeding off each other's energy. Someone accidentally stumbled into me and my fake glasses fell off my face. I was trying to find it amongst the jumping feet and the darkness, but when I finally caught sight of them, someone stepped on them and they broke.

"Uh-oh," I said to myself. I was too quiet for anyone else to hear me.

Suddenly, someone plucked my hat off my head and threw it on the stage. I tried to grab it back but it was out of my reach within a moments notice.

It was so dark in the arena and everyone was drunk and distracted by the band that I figured no one would notice me. While jumping along to the beat with everyone else, I turned to Tom and told him happily, "this is the most fun I've ever had!"

His face broke out into a happy smile, and he stopped jumping. I stopped too, and gazed at him adoringly.

"Alex, excuse me if this is terribly unprofessional but I think you are the most beautiful girl on the planet, inside and out. I'm so happy I've been able to get to know you these past few weeks."

I could feel my face brighten from his words. There was nothing I wanted more than to have his lips on mine, but we both got distracted when the lead singer said into the microphone, "for our last song, I want three fans up here with me!"

The entire crowd screamed excitedly.

There was a spotlight that shined down on people when the singer pointed them out in the crowd.

"You, come up here," he said and I was suddenly blinded by a bright light.

The blood has never left my face faster. I shot my head to Tom, who looked just as stunned. And not in a good way.

I heard a series of gasps around me. "It's Princess Alexandra!"

"Princess!"

"Alexandra!"

"Is that the princess that ran away from her country?"

"Princess, over here!" Another shouted.

"Uh-oh," I gulped. The spotlight was still shining down on me, broadcasting me to everyone in the entire concert.

"That's Princess Alexandra?" The lead singer asked into the microphone, which made my heart drop to my stomach. "Come on up here, Princess!"

"Shit," Tom said under his breath.

I didn't have time to react. Tom grabbed my arm and yanked me out of the pit. He was ruthless as he pushed past people who were trying to get to me. I nearly tripped trying to keep up with his long legs that were bolting as fast as they could.

"Shit, shit, shit," Tom said as we ran. I was running out of breath, and I refused to look back. I didn't have to to know that the entire audience was just a few yards behind me. Their stomping echoed throughout the town, and their screams were ear piercing. They were screaming out my name, and screaming in excitement.

"What are we gonna do?" I asked.

"That way!" I heard Tom say.

"What way?" I asked but I was quickly answered when he tightened his grip on my arm and nearly ripped it out of its socket when he suddenly darted in a nearby alley and pulled me along with him.

"You nearly ripped my—" I tried to tell him but he quickly pressed me up against the brick wall of the building we were in the shadows of and he put his hand over my mouth to get me to stop talking.

He was pressed against me as we both quieted our breaths and watched as the crowd raced right past the alley we were hiding in. Our hearts were thumping against each other.

"Where'd she go?"

"I think I saw her go this way!" One said and they all raced off down the street.

Tom slowly pulled his hand away from my mouth and I exhaled slowly. My adrenaline was plummeting. His face was so close to mine, I was glad that I brushed my teeth before I left.

Tom finally let out a sigh of relief and he said in a low voice, "I think we lost them."

"I think so too," I agreed.

My eyes darted from Tom's dark eyes and his pink lips before I couldn't help myself. I kissed him, and placed my hand against his warm cheek lovingly.

I pulled away and opened my eyes. Tom took a moment to open his eyes to look back at me. I gasped at my action and said, "Thomas, I'm so sorry. That was improper of me. I just... I wanted to thank you for showing me what it is like to live, Tom. To really live."

"I wish you could stay longer," he said with a wondering gaze. His hands found their home on either side of me, keeping me pinned to the brick wall.

"I love living here with you. I wish I got to experience your city more. But, I'm sure you can understand that I have a duty to my people. My country needs me, and soon I'll be Queen of Molympia. When I can travel again after my coronation, I'll be certain to come right back to Metropolis and we will explore your beautiful city together."

"I'd like that."

"I'll never be able to thank you properly," I reiterated.

"Kiss me again and we'll be square," he smiled down at me.

I grinned back at him and stood on my tip toes so my lips would reach his once again.

Chapter 39: Alice in Wonderland: Most Unforgettable Tea Party

Chapter Text

Narrator's POV

Caryl Liddell sat across the table from her mother, Alice, as they were preparing for tea time. The summer air was warm as it pushed through their house, and the glorious sun shined in through the open window.

Caryl had spent her nineteen years always curious about her mother, who was always telling her to believe in six impossible things before breakfast, but Caryl had a bit more of a rational mindset.

Alice was setting down pasteries on the white cloth table as a blue butterfly flew into the room. She giggled and said, "hello Absolem."

Caryl knitted her blond eyebrows together and asked, "who are you talking to?"

"Absolem," Alice responded, setting out the silverware. "Haven't you met him?"

Caryl shook her head. “The butterfly?"

"He reminds me of one of the best tea parties I've ever been to," Alice sighed. A spark glistened over her eyes and she looked up at her daughter, "I can take you if you'd like."

"We are about to have tea right now," Caryl said and gestured to the table they had been preparing.

"They're always having tea, we should go see them."

"Who, mum?"

"The Hatter, the White Rabbit, the Hare..."

"Who?" Caryl interrupted, raising her eyebrows at the absurd names.

Alice paused and looked at her daughter, "have I never told you?"

Caryl shook her head and said, "perhaps when I was a child. But I thought that was a dream you had."

"No, the place is real."

"Where?"

"You'll see.” Alice smiled. "Come, they will be so happy to meet you."

Caryl followed her mother up the stairs of their home until they reached a mirror in the hallway. It was a tall mirror, and quite large. The mirror had always made Caryl uneasy, and now she knew why.

Alice hooked arms with Caryl and asked with a smile, "ready?"

Caryl nodded, and thought her mother was entirely bonkers as they walked through the mirror. She closed her eyes as she expected to be hit by the glass, but instead she felt a soft breeze blow her curly yellow hair back.

"Open your eyes," Alice said.

When Caryl did, her jaw nearly dropped to the floor. They walked into Underland. The blue sky covered the colorful wonders of the enchanting land.

"Curiouser and curiouser," Caryl said, her grey eyes darted to every noise that surrounded them. She was so shocked, common rules of English left her head.

As they walked down the colorful path, the Cheshire Cat suddenly appeared in front of them out of thin air.

"Cheshire!" Alice greeted with a healthy smile.

"Alice?" Cheshire exclaimed in a creepy and deep voice that startled Caryl. His smile stretched wide, with human-like teeth. He was calm, and casually sensual with a seductive grin.

"You can talk?" Caryl asked, dumbfounded.

"All animals can talk in Wonderland," Alice said to her.

Cheshire asked Caryl, "what do you call yourself?"

Alice turned to the cat and said, "this is Caryl, my daughter."

"How do you do, Caryl?" Cheshire asked.

"I am fine, thank you," Caryl said, slightly uncomfortable with talking to a cat with human eyes and human teeth.

"We are trying to find the Hatter. Have you seen him?" Alice asked.

"Yes, my dear. I'll take you to him, but that's the end of it," Cheshire said before his tail brushed in front of his face and he disappeared.

"He disappeared!" Caryl exclaimed in shock.

"He does that quite a lot," Alice chuckled softly. She was so happy to finally be able to share this experience with her daughter.

"Is that normal?" Caryl asked, still trying to find the cat that vanished in the air.

"In Wonderland, yes."

They followed the disappearing cat all the way to a long table which was housing a tea party.

The tea party has been going on for years. There are cracked pots and chipped cups, with a stained tablecloth and upturned chairs. Caryl noticed a little Dormouse, a Hare anxiously wringing his paws and long ears, and a man.

The man bolted upright, and he brightened up as he saw their new guests. His big, bright green eyes fixated on the girls and instantly recognized Alice. His bright orange hair reflected his mad personality, which Caryl had yet to meet. His skin is pale with colorful eyeliner and a ragged hat on top of his head.

He wore a silk bow tie, silly colored cotton socks, a purple jacket, a blue shirt with a red-pink vest, and fingerless cotton gloves. An ensemble that Carl has never seen before.

Curious as to who the newcomer is, Hatter stood up on the table and marched over to them. The table shook and the cups and silverware clattered together with each step.

"Alice! Oh, it's you!" Hatter greeted. He turned back to his comrades and said, "I'd know him anywhere! You look ravishing, as always, my dear."

"I've missed you, Hatter," Alice said to him with a smile. Caryl saw her mother's reaction, and realized that she has not seen her this happy in a long time.

"We've been waiting so long. You're awfully late, you know. Naughty. You haven't forgotten about us?" He asked. His voice had a indistinguishable lisp.

"Of course not!"

"Super!" Hatter shouted which made Caryl jump. His high pitched lisp almost made it difficult for her to understand him. Hatter looked towards her with great curiosity and asked, "and who are you, my dear?"

"It's young Alice, she's obviously taken her from the past," Hare stated.

"I'm Caryl," Caryl responded, ignoring the Hare.

Caryl was named after the author, Charles Dodgson. He is under the pen name Lewis Carroll. He wrote Alice's adventures of being in Underland, and he has been a close friend of the family. Alice claims that Caryl was not named after Charles, which not even Caryl believes.

"My daughter," Alice added.

"Daughter?" Hatter asked. His big eyes got even bigger when he widened them. "Family? You have a family?"

"Me and Caryl against the world," Alice said, smiling over at her lovely daughter.

"Speaking of world, where in the world are we?" Caryl asked, peering around at the lively trees that surrounded the table.

"Underland!" Hatter, the Hare, and the Dormouse all shouted excitedly.

"Wonderland?" Caryl asked.

"Underland!" They repeated.

"Underland?"

"Underland!"

"Is there an echo in here?" Caryl asked.

"What an odd thing to say," Hatter said. He grabbed Caryl by the arm and started running over the table again, taking her with him. He continued, "as our new guest, you get the best spot right next to me."

Hatter stepped on his chair at the head of the table and plopped himself down before Caryl carefully got off the table and sat in the chair next to his while Alice found an empty chair by the Hare.

Hatter leaned into Caryl and asked, "Caryl, why is a raven like a writing desk?"

"A what?" She asked cluelessly.

"You heard me."

"I'm not sure."

"I haven't the foggiest either," Hatter said with an uncontrollable laugh.

"I think of six impossible things before breakfast though," Caryl said to try to save herself.

"That's an excellent practice. And let me tell you, you are absolutely bonkers."

"Oh?" She couldn't tell if that was a good thing or not.

"But let me tell you a secret. Only the best people are. Which reminds me, I've started investigating things that begin with the letter S."

"Sister! Stars!" The Dormouse shouted.

"Symphony," Alice added.

"Sinister?" Caryl said in a questionable tone.

"That's the spirit!" Hatter said, "oh, spirit!"

"Sky!" The Hare said and pointed up at the sky.

"City," Dormouse said.

"That begins with the letter C," Caryl corrected.

"Sounds like the letter S," Hatter whispered.

"I still can't believe that you can talk," Caryl said, staring at the mouse and the hare. "It's impossible."

"Only if you believe it is," Hatter said softly.

"If the Red Queen were here, you'd have lost your head!" Dormouse shouted.

"Already lost them," Hatter said in a tight voice, which made everyone giggle madly.

"Are we still in England?" Caryl asked.

"This place, is like no place on earth. It's a land full of wonder, mystery, and danger! Some say to survive it, you need to be as mad as a hatter. Which luckily, I am," Hatter said, followed by a giggle and a wobbly bow in his chair.

"Have some wine," the Hare offered in an encouraging tone.

Caryl looked all round the table, but she saw that there was nothing on it but tea. She remarked, "I don't see any wine."

"There isn't any," said the Hare.

"Then it wasn't very civil of you to offer it," said Caryl angrily.

"It wasn't very civil of you to sit down without being invited," snapped the Hare.

"Hare, please," Hatter quieted him down.

The lovely afternoon was spent with Caryl getting to know her mother's life long friends, and they got to know her. Carl joked and laughed at their funny rhymes and entertaining personalities. Her heart grew twice the size since first arriving in Underland. They all got along very well, and Caryl could see why Alice loved the Hatter so much. He was quite eccentric, and so very charming.

But it wasn't long before the sun began to set in Underland, and it was time for Alice and Caryl to go. Caryl was sad to leave, because she truly felt like herself when she was with them. It was the most unforgettable tea party.

Them all bid everyone goodbye, and the Hatter stood up to walk with them to the mirror where they came from. Caryl looked back and saw that the Hare and the Dormouse were finishing the tea party without them, but the color grew dark and grey the further they traveled away.

Alice hugged the Hatter goodbye before walking through the mirror. Caryl watched her mother disappear, and soon saw her reflection in the mirror with Hatter looking down at her.

Caryl looked up at Hatter with a smile and said, "I really enjoyed getting to know you, Hatter."

He smiled back. “Me as to you, Caryl. You've been a truly terrific guest. You are always welcome back, we are all mad here."

Caryl blushed softly, and Hatter showed off his endearing gap tooth. Unlike in the world that Caryl escaped from, being mad in Underland isn't a bad thing. In the golden afternoon, Caryl learned that she should embrace the side of herself that's quirky and unpredictable. When she gets back to reality, she is going to take a little bit of that with her.

"When can I see you again?" She asked.

Hatter replied softly, "in the gardens of memory. In the palace of dreams. This is where you and I will meet."

Caryl smiled at him again. “I'll see you there."

Hatter grinned at Caryl as she stepped back into the mirror. Hatter waved her off, and she disappeared. Within moments, she was in her own home once again with Alice waiting for her in the hallway.

"I was almost afraid that you were going to stay," Alice said.

"That place was wonderful, mum," Caryl said, looking into the mirror and almost hoping that Hatter would follow them.

"Yes, it is. Believe me, there are some days where I almost never came back. I'm glad I did though, because now I have you."

"Can we go back again soon?"

"Of course."

"Can you tell me more stories of you in Underland?"

Alice pondered for a moment before she asked, "have I told you about when I slayed the Jabberwocky?"

Caryl shook her head.

"It's a fascinating story," Alice said, "let's talk it over after more tea."

Caryl grabbed the tea pot and saw that the tea had grown cold. She walked to the kitchen to heat the tea up again, and saw that hours had passed since her and Alice had been gone. As soon as the tea was ready, she walked to the table where her and Alice talked about Underland, and her adventures.

Chapter 40: 21 Jump Street: Blue Pills

Chapter Text

Tom Hanson's POV

I stood at my desk while clipping some papers together when my coworker, Leilani, walked past. I caught a whiff of her classic vanilla perfume, and my nose forced my head to turn to follow in her direction. I had no choice in the matter, my eyes have a mind of their own.

My working hands slowly came to a stop as I watched her head to the fax machine, swiping her color-block windbreaker off her desk along the way. She used it to cover up her dark shirt, and she brought her attention to the fax.

"Whatcha lookin' at?" Doug asked right by my ear.

I jumped out of my socks. When I realized it was him, I exclaimed, "geez! Warn a guy next time, won't you?"

Doug leaned over my desk and put his elbow on the surface and rested his head in his hand. His eyes bolted from me to Leilani and he chuckled, "when are you gonna ask her out already?"

"What are you talking about?" I scoffed.

"You've been ogling over her since the day she got here."

"I have not been ogling over her," I scoffed again.

"Have so."

"You need to get your eyes checked," I said and brought my attention back down to my papers and finished my task.

Doug wasn't wrong, but I'll never admit it to him. I hated how well Doug knew me. I need to stop spending so much time with him. I could remember her first day like it was yesterday. I couldn't stop looking into her hazel eyes, because they are so dazzling and kind. She's the first girl that has ever made me nervous, which is quite the accomplishment on her part. I've tried to keep my feelings about her buried deep down, because she hasn't shown any sort of interest in me. I don't have the guts to say anything, so I'll just admire from afar until one day I die.

I sat down on my chair and Doug annoyingly said under his breath, "she's coming, she's coming. Be cool, be cool. Act casual."

"Shut up," I snapped at him through my teeth. He spun out of the way and went to his own desk.

When I looked up, Leilani was coming right up to my desk. Her short brown hair was in classic finger waves, which I've always found very unique. That's one thing that drew me to her, was her authentic expression of individuality.

I flipped my pencil around in my hands when I smiled up at her politely. "Hi."

She smiled back, and I swear she has the brightest smile in the city. She asked in her New York accent, "you excited for today?"

I tapped the eraser of my pencil on my desk rhythmically. "Today? What's today?"

"Oh, has Fuller talked to you yet?" She asked and put her hands in the pockets of her baggy jeans.

"Not yet but now that you've brought it up, you gotta tell me," I said.

I could talk forever if given the opportunity. I'm usually a man of few words, but when I get nervous I tend to spill my guts. It's a curse. Doug had learned to sniff out that quirk, and constantly points it out.

"Looks like we have a mission over at Metropolis University," she revealed.

My heart pulsed against my chest harder. I've worked with Leilani one on one before, so I didn't understand why this felt different. But we have worked together for a while now, so I'd say that we know each other pretty well. I asked, "what's the deal going on over there?"

"Might wanna get the run down from the Captain, but all I know is that it's drug related."

Like clockwork, Fuller popped out of his office and called us into it.

"Speak of the devil," I said and stood up. Leilani chuckled softly and we walked in together.

I let her have the closest chair and I pushed it out a little for her. We both slid into our chairs and Fuller handed us our papers that have all the information we were going to need for our mission. This included everything to know about the drugs, as well as our profiles.

Leilani began reading her profile out loud so we were all on the same page. "Leilani Snickett. I'm an organic chemistry major, and I'm looking to see who is cooking the stuff up. Oh, and I'm dating Tommy Black."

I raised my eyebrows when I heard my name and my eyes shot down to my own profile. I said out loud, "Tommy Black. I'm an English major, and I just got off of academic probation. In a relationship with Leilani Snickett of two years."

My eyes gazed over to Leilani and she gave me an excited smile. I returned the expression, but I felt my face grow warm with embarrassment. I almost wished I could ask Doug to cover for me. I'm afraid that I might fall for her.

"Now, guys, this deal has been in the works for a few years now. It's... a little sensitive," Fuller said with a soft voice.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Why do we have to be a couple?" Leilani asked.

Fuller got visibly uncomfortable and cleared his throat. He looked between us over and over before he said, "look, you're trained police officers so I expect you to act like it when I tell you."

"Tell us what?" I asked impatiently.

"They are making a drug to correct erectile dysfunction. The males take it to be able to perform... in bed."

"If they can't get it up?" Leilani asked and choked on her chuckle as she tried desperately not to laugh.

Fuller glared at her and said, "it's not funny, Officer Sanchez."

"You're right, I'm sorry," she said and cleared her throat. But her hazel eyes were leaking slightly from trying so hard not to laugh. Listening and watching her trying not to laugh, made me laugh.

Fuller sighed and said, "I'll replace both of you."

"We're sorry," I apologized and we got back on track.

"But that's why we needed you as a couple. You need to buy these pills and make your arrest." He tossed me a little bag and said, "this is what we confiscated from an overdosed patient a couple days ago."

I opened the bag and Leilani leaned toward me to take a peak. They were little blue pills, and we both memorized what they looked like so we knew what to look for.

I handed them back to him and said, "you can count on us."

I got up and opened the door for Leilani. This was definitely an odd mission. My mind was swirling around with how I was going to be able to complete this assignment while working with her. I hated how bashful I got when I was around her.

I headed to my desk and grabbed my pre-packed back pack and hooked the strap around my shoulder. There are just notebooks in there full of details from other assignments, a couple of textbooks that belong to schools I completely forgot to give back to, and a ton of pens and pencils. I've also started carrying around packs of gum as well, because that gives you major brownie points in school.

I sniffed hard before I fetched my keys from my desk and held them in my hand. Since we are supposed to be dating anyway, why not seal the deal by driving to school together? That's what couples do, right? I didn’t have a girlfriend in high school, if you can’t tell.

I waited for Leilani to grab her own bag and we headed out the door. We trotted down the steep stairs case together, and I tried to only think about the bright morning sun that was kissing my face.

I ran my fingers through my hair once we got to the bottom and said, "I was thinking that we should drive together to the school. Since we're supposed to be dating and all."

Leilani nodded in agreement and said, "that sounds good. I'm running out of gas anyways so that's perfect."

"Good," I said and stuck my key into the lock. I turned it, and we both slid into our seats. I started my car, and off we went to the university.

When we parked, Leilani pulled out a Polaroid camera from her backpack. When I nodded to it and asked what it was for, she responded with, "what if they want proof? They need to know that you're my boyfriend."

I froze for just a moment and asked, "what?"

"Look, it's not a big deal. We kiss, snap a picture, and that's it," she said and unbuckled. She scooted up in her seat and extended her arm out with the camera pointed at us. "Just close your eyes and pucker up, butter cup."

Leilani is very forward, but I adored her keen attention to detail. Nothing is ever out of place with her. I love working with her, because I know that she thinks of everything.

I leaned toward her and closed my eyes and puckered my lips, just as she said. I felt her warm lips on mine and the bright flash burned my eyes, even though they were closed.

I didn't even have a chance to enjoy the kiss before she pulled away. I opened my eyes when the photograph popped out and she started to wave it in the air to help it develop. We looked at the photo as it slowly faded from black, and I thought it looked too posed, not candid enough.

I pointed at it and made the excuse of our shirts could be seen in the photo. I reached into the back seat and grabbed an old sweater of mine and tossed it to Leilani to put over her clothes and I grabbed a coat and put it on as well.

"Good thinking, making it look like a different day," she said and repositioned the camera again.

This time, I decided to go all out. I brought my hand up to Leilani's jaw and caressed her cheek tenderly. I noticed her cheeks blush. We closed our eyes and I put my lips on hers, smiling ever so gently and we teased each other, pulling back and forth in our kiss until she snapped the photo. It took a little longer for her to find the button that time.

We pulled away, although I was reluctant. I settled back in my seat and didn't look away from her. She's so pretty. Her eyes never left the photo as it developed and she complimented, "this looks much better."

We took off our outer wear and walked together to the campus. As another way to demonstrate our relationship to anyone who was watching and was potentially involved in the drug deals, I put my arm around her shoulders and I pulled her closer to me as we walked.

We promised to meet back up for our lunch breaks, and we went our separate ways after a goodbye kiss on the cheek. She was in charge of figuring out who was cooking, and I had to go around and figure out who was selling. The last guy was an English major, so we thought that maybe the dealer had classes in common with him.

We met at the cafeteria for lunch. Lunches at a university are so much better than the lunches at high school.

She sat across from me at one of the tables and we dug into our lunches. She got the lunchrooms special of the day, but I got some sort of delicious soup.

After eating a spoonful, I told her, "I've been asking around but no one knows what I'm talking about. I can't tell if they honestly don't know, or if they're keeping it under wraps."

She smiled cheekily and said, "good thing I'm here then because I found the dealer, and the guy who makes it."

"What?" I asked, "how?"

"I went into the wrong classroom, and there they were making it. Pure luck. I asked 'em what the hell they were doing, and it took some convincing for them to tell me the truth."

"What did you do?" I asked. I smiled softly when her beautiful eyes looked into mine. The windows to her soul were sparkling back at me, and it made me realize that I was right, I was falling for her.

"I had to become one of them. I told them about my background in organic chemistry and they were practically on their knees to get me to join them. I told them that my boyfriend has problems in bed, and they want to meet up. They said it would be free since it's our first time and now I'm a dealer."

"That's great. When?"

"Right after lunch," she said and took a bite. I really could watch her do the most basic things and just be absolutely smitten.

"You're kidding."

"No."

"That fast?" I asked.

"Yeah.” She nodded and took another bite of her lunch.

Right after lunch, I followed her lead to the chemistry lab where she promised to meet with the guys. We walked into the room hand in hand, and I tried to keep my focus on the mission. She introduced me to them, and then they showed us their new and improved little blue pill.

"How many you two want?" The main guy asked. There were only three of them, thankfully.

"100," I ordered.

He chuckled and asked, "you two are like a couple of bunny rabbits, huh?"

"You could say." I smiled over at Leilani. Her intense eyes were focused on the drug dealers, which motivated me to not let my mind wander. She is actually doing her job.

As soon as the pills were in our possession. Leilani and I both moved our coats and brandished our badges to them. Their eyes bulged in shock, and we were able to make our arrests.

When our job was done, we walked back to the car together. I couldn't stop thinking about that kiss from this morning. I couldn't get it out of my head.

Once we were both buckled and my car was turned on, I realized that my fear had come true: I fell hard for her. I didn't want to pretend anymore. I was done hiding from my feelings. Life really isn't that long, and I deserved to be happy. I knew I'd be happy if I was with Leilani. I'd rather be rejected than live a life wondering "what if."

I knew that if I didn't say this now, I was never going to. I couldn't help myself to say, "hey, look, I'm sorry if this comes across as weird, and totally inappropriate, but I just can't keep this in anymore."

"What?" She asked softly.

I leaned back in my seat and took a deep breath and finally revealed, "I almost didn't take this case, because I was going to be your partner."

She eased into the seat and asked, "oh?"

"Because there was something I was afraid of."

"Oh?"

"I was afraid of falling in love with you."

"Oh." Her eyebrows raised in realization.

"Look, I really don't want to make things weird between us, because I value your friendship so much. But, I've been keeping this in for a while now and if being a cop has taught me one thing, is to never waste time," I began to nervously ramble on and on. "If you want to ignore me for the rest of our careers, I'll respect that but just know that you mean more to me than you realize, and I just—"

Suddenly, my lips were frozen in their formation when Leilani leaned over and placed her lips on mine. It was the best way to shut me up.

She pulled away a little and giggled softly, "do you ever stop talking?"

I opened my eyes in a soft squint and joked back, "kiss me again and find out."

Leilani giggled and pushed her lips into mine again, and I smiled against her lips and brought my hand up to her warm face. My heart was bursting with happiness. My eyes closed to savor the moment and memorize the sweetness of her chapstick. Something I hope to taste for the rest of my life.

Chapter 41: Pirates of the Caribbean: Haunted House

Chapter Text

Natalie's POV

2024

I recently got a new job in an old town by the water. I was so excited to start this new chapter of my life, which included finding a place to live.

There was an old house that I found and immediately bought because there was something strong drawing me to it. I learned as much as I could about the history of the house, and I found out that it was first built as a tavern hundreds of years earlier. I thought this added character to it, and I loved it even more, since a lot of it is still original. I admired and appreciated the home greatly. I even saw old pictures from when it was a tavern, and I could vividly imagine where things used to be in what is now my living room. Even the bedrooms upstairs could all lock with a skeleton key. However, my closet is locked and I learned that it hasn't been opened in hundreds of years.

My first night was definitely an eventful one. I woke up in my bed, feeling a cold sweat on my back. My pajamas of a big oversized shirt was clinging to my skin. I stared up at the ceiling for a moment before I shot up after hearing a crash downstairs, followed by a heavy commotion. I live alone, so there is no one for me to call for. I reached over to grab my phone to call the police, but I had no service.

"Shit," I muttered to myself.

I refused to get murdered on the first night at my new home, so I quickly looked around my room in my panic and find an old candlestick that must have been left by the last owners of the house that I somehow didn't notice before.

I gripped the heavy candlestick in my dominate hand and crept up to the door. My grey sweatpants softly rubbed together with every step I took. I softly turned the knob to slowly swing the door open. I poked my head out, and peered down the dark hallway that leads to the original staircase. I saw the soft yellow glow from candlelight coming up from the bottom of the stairs, along with the sounds of light chatter and laughter.

I slowly made my way down the hallway, and began stepping down the steep stairs of the staircase as I cautiously looked down at my living room. The candlestick nearly fell out of my hand when I saw a bustling tavern instead. My jaw dropped to the floor as I frantically looked around, seeing musicians, boisterous pirates, and even a bar where my kitchen used to be.

"I'm dreaming," I said to myself as I continued to look around, trying to figure how this was possible.

"Scarlett!" I heard a pirate shout. I turned around toward the source of the noise and saw a handsome pirate staggering towards me. He saw my confused face and immediately stopped, nearly sloshing his drink out of his tankard. He stared at me with big eyes and asked, "you're not Scarlett... who are you?"

"I'm... uh..." I said as I keep getting distracted by everything around me. It was loud with laughter and lively music, and a dim glow from candles all around the room. How was this real?

He snapped his fingers at me to focus and said, "come on, darling, spit it out. I haven't got all day."

"Natalie," I spat out.

He smiled cheekily at me and asked, "are you on the clock? Cause I have a hankering for a service right about now."

I looked back at him in confusion and looked off to the side where a large but cracked mirror grabbed my attention. I saw my dirty blonde hair pinned up in a teased and curled vintage style of the 1700's, and even my pale blue pajama shirt and sweatpants were replaced with a low-cut black dress that showed off my cleavage, and a high skirt that flaunted my leg. I barely recognized the face looking back at me.

I took a quick peek up the stairs and realized that my upstairs level was now a brothel, and this pirate thought I was a prostitute. This is the most vivid dream I've ever had.

"No, sir, I just... no," I sputtered. I discreetly pinched myself, trying to wake up but it didn't work.

"Sir? Too formal, darling," he said and wrapped his arm around my shoulders and began slowly guiding me across the tavern. "Call me Captain Jack Sparrow."

I walked along side Captain Jack as I muttered his name to myself. It sounded too familiar...

It finally clicked and I jumped out of his grasp. He looked at me with a puzzled expression but I looked at him in bewilderment. "You're that pirate that sailed The Black Pearl!"

He smiled and said, "the one and only."

"You're dead," I stated.

Jack frowned at me and asked, "am I?" Then he swayed as he drunkenly looked down at himself. He poked his own arm and shrugged.

"How is this possible?" I asked myself.

"Come outside with me, love, I can't hear a single word you're saying," Jack said and escorted me out of the tavern.

I didn't even realize that I was still walking beside Jack as I was mindlessly talking and trying to wrap my mind around the entire situation. I was trying to talk myself through it, but it's coming out as a mumbled mess. If he spoke up at all, I didn't hear him because I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts.

Jack finally stopped me when we reached the docks. He waved his arm and said, "quiet yourself for just a moment, will you?"

I physically closed my mouth, but my mind was still running at top speed.

"First things first... have you seen me compass? I lost in in that tavern. It's green. Has a needle. It's unique. And, compass-y."

"No," I answered truthfully.

Jack gestured out to the ocean and said, "then, would you like to see me ship? Might as well, you're down here already."

I looked out to the water, but I didn't see anything but the docks and I could hear the soft waves of the water in the darkness. I could smell the mixture of fish and saltwater that nearly coated my tongue. There was no ship, not even a single boat. This felt far too real to be a dream. I looked back at Jack, but he was gone.

I glanced around to see if he maybe ran off, but I didn't see him. My hands immediately gripped at my hair, and I happily could feel my natural hair once again. I looked down and saw my pajamas, and not the black dress of a 18th century prostitute.

I looked up and realized that I slept walked down the road and was now standing by the water. I immediately began to wonder what would have happened if I tried to follow Jack to his ship. I would have drowned for sure.

I quickly retreated back to my house and shut and locked the door. I looked around the living room, now seeing my boxes and furniture in the dark room again. The bar was replaced with a kitchen, but I still couldn't shake the feeling of dozens of eyes staring at me. The energy in the room felt like no one had ever left.

I went back into my room and somehow fell asleep. I didn't wake again until morning, when the sun beams tickled my eyelids open. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, remembering everything from the night before very clearly. I quickly blew it off as the weirdest and most vivid dream I have ever had, and got dressed for the day before I headed down stairs to get some water.

I grabbed a glass from the cabinet and begin filling it up with water when my front door burst open. I gasped and turned around, dropping my glass in fright. Jack came through the door, and my jaw dropped. I was instantly terrified that the man from my dream had come into my real world, and I desperately tried to pinch myself awake but it didn't work. It didn't work because I was awake.

"Oi, where is everyone?" Jack asked, seemingly also remembering me from the night before.

"Long gone," I said. He was a few hundred years too late. I picked up the glass, that surprisingly didn't break, and dropped a towel to the ground to mop the water.

"Where'd you stow it?" He asked.

"Stow what?"

"Rum."

"I don't drink."

"You don't drink?" He scoffed. "You don't know what you're missing, darling."

I asked, "would you like some tea instead or something?"

"A spot of tea would be good." Jack nodded in approval. He walked in like he owned the place and closed the door behind him. He looked around at my home in confusion before sitting down at the table. He pointed to the kitchen as I was heating the water in a kettle and asked, "wasn't there a bar there?"

"Yeah," I said and grabbed two mugs from my cabinet.

"Odd," Jack said.

"Would you like a scone?" I asked, grabbing the container from the counter.

"Yes," Jack said. I looked over at him when I heard him unshield his sword and place it on the table.

"Warm?" I asked.

"Whatever." He didn't sound picky.

I picked up two scones and place them on a plate and put them into the microwave. I set the timer, and the buzz caused Jack to stir. His eyebrows hunched over his eyes and he stared at the microwave intently, and jumped when the timer went off.

"What on earth is that contraption?" He asked, sneering his lip toward the microwave.

"A microwave," I said.

"A beast is what it is," Jack said and rested back into the chair. But he side-eyed the microwave with one eyebrow cocked up suspiciously.

I poured the tea and walked over to Jack. I gave him the scone and the tea, and went back to grab my own before I sat down beside him. He took his dirty fingers and picked apart the scone before eating it.

"What are you doing here?" I finally asked.

"I was going to ask the same about you," Jack said and took a proper sip of his tea. "I left my compass here, and I want it back."

"Jack... do you know what year this is?" I asked in a soft voice. Does he know that he's dead?

"Of course I do," he almost sounded offended. "Just because I'm a pirate, doesn't mean I don't keep track of the days."

"What year is it?"

"1729," he said.

I guess that answers my question.

"It's 2024," I told him.

Jack laughed at me, "that's absolutely preposterous."

"Fine, then, tell me about yourself."

Jack leaned back in the chair and kicked his legs up to the table. He said, "I thought you'd never ask."

Jack happily talked about himself, rarely stopping to take a breath. I tried to remember everything that he said, but he was certainly proud of all of his accomplishments.

"So, rum is your drink of choice?" I asked once we got on that topic.

He nodded. “It keeps best on ships."

"You're a rummy."

"I am not."

"A big, ugly, booze soaked rummy."

"Hold it. There be no call to put the fuddler's name on your new-found shipmate," he said with narrow eyes.

"Whatever," I said and took a sip of my tea. I thought maybe if I poked fun of him, he would leave me alone.

"I had a big treasure."

"Yeah?"

"Lovely, I did. Yes. I spent it all in one week... among the fleshpots and gambling halls of Port Royal. Oh, it was a glorious week, that was."

"You've got breath that would stun a horse," I stated. I got up to fetch a napkin and I came back and saw that Jack had grabbed some rubbing alcohol from my counter and was about to drink it. "What are you doing?" I asked and snatched it from his hand.

He looked at me with a slacked jaw and said, "that's a dangerous move, me hearty."

"That's not to drink. What are you trying to do, kill yourself?"

"Little late to be thinking about that, isn't it?" He asked with a slight chuckle. A horn honked outside, and Jack's eyes narrowed at the window. He sulked over and moved the blinds to peer out. He pointed at something out the window and asked, "what is that?"

I walked over and looked out and just saw cars. "A car?"

"A what?" He asked.

"A car. You know, an automobile," I said.

"Oh, is it? Oh yes,automotonees.Autosomonees. It's propelled by some kind of animal under the hatch, is it?" He asked.

"No, it isn't," I stated and walked back to the table. I started to gather the dishes to put in the sink and I asked, "where did you last leave your compass?"

"Upstairs. Last room on the left, I believe."

"Are you sure?" I asked, looking up at him.

"Aye."

That is my bedroom. I'm usually a private person, but I invited him up anyway. He followed me up the stairs, and I could hear his trinkets and weapons clanking together from his belt at every step. I opened the door, happy that my room was relatively clean but something tells me that he wouldn't have cared.

He pointed at my closet and said, "there. It's in there."

"It's locked and I don't have the key," I stated and demonstrated by shaking the knob. "It hasn't been opened in centuries."

Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a skeleton key. He said, "I found this on me way out the door a few nights ago, when I lost me compass. This it?"

"May I?" I asked.

He handed me the key, and I brushed my fingers against his accidentally. I blushed a little but I hid my face by facing the door. I took the key and stuck it into the door lock and it fit perfectly. I unlocked it and pushed the door open. The closet looked like it hasn't been opened in hundreds of years. There's a thick layer of gray dust, and cobwebs that were spun all throughout the little room. Jack reached in and plucked a lump from a shelf, and brushed off the heavy dust to reveal an antique green compass.

Jack smiled down at the compass and said to it, "I've missed you, dearie."

Then, he looked up at me. He gazed deep into my eyes and took my hand. He pressed his lips to my knuckles and said, "it was a pleasure, love."

"You're leaving?" I asked when he did not let my hand slip from his.

"Afraid so," Jack said and used his other hand to hook his compass to his belt.

He annoyed me before, but now I didn't want him to leave. I wasn't sure what came over me, but I said, "you can stay."

Jack smiled softly at me and responded, "perhaps in another life."

In a blink, Jack was gone. He disappeared into thin air, leaving me utterly confused and disappointed. I could still feel the ghost of his fingers lingering on my hand.

Since it was my day off anyway, I quickly raced out the door and to my car. I drove as fast as I could to the library, where I begged the librarian to give me all the information they had about my historic home.

After perusing through hundreds of articles and records about my new home, I found out that the legendary Captain Jack Sparrow was stabbed in that tavern almost 300 years earlier. The article commented on how he had shagged with one of the prostitutes upstairs, in my room, and accidentally left his compass in the newly locked closet. He had staggered down the stairs, drunk, and got stabbed. He was dragged back up to what was now my room, where he bled to death. Everything on his person was buried with him in the local cemetery. This included dreadlock jewelry, his hat, a dark linen coat, a handwoven sash, and the closets skeleton key.

Chapter 42: 21 Jump Street: Missing Flight 815

Chapter Text

Sloane's POV

Date: Friday, May 13, 1988

My Jump Street team and I sat at our gate at the Daniel K. Inouye International Airport in Honolulu, Hawaii waiting for our plane to start boarding. Fuller wanted to be there a little early, and we were passing the time by talking.

We were clearly a little outside our jurisdiction. Our mission extended overseas, and we had a direct flight back to Metropolis, a six hour flight back to the mainland. We had all been awake for nearly forty-eight hours, and we were all exhausted. As soon as the mission was complete, we got the first tickets home.

I gazed out the airport window for a moment, and my tongue was craving a cup of coffee. The golden sun was just beginning to rise, but I was yawning. The time change was kicking my ass. I leaned toward Tom and put my head on his broad shoulder and closed my eyes.

Tom and I met when I first joined the department. It would be cliche to say that it was love at first sight, but it was true. It's been a little over a year, and I can proudly state that he is the love of my life. I have the ring to prove it, but we haven't gotten married yet. I've been planning an outdoor summer wedding ever since he proposed, and the date is set for next June.

I let out a shaky breath but kept my eyes closed, even when I felt Tom's hand find mine and he held it lovingly. He said calmly, "don't worry, you'll get the position. You'll soon be Detective Hanson."

"Who told you I'd take your last name?" I joked.

"Just an assumption," he chuckled.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I took the test but—"

"But you did perfectly and they'll give you the good news as soon as we land," he said.

I sighed and said, "I hope so."

An announcement blared through the gate which made me lift my head up. "All passengers for Flight 815 to Metropolis, Evergreen State, your attention, please. We are overbooked by one seat. We are offering travel vouchers for a free round trip ticket to any destination to anyone willing to take a later flight."

My eyebrows rose and my eyes shot right up to Tom. He looked back at me with the same expression, and I said, "if one of us goes on the later flight, we can use the round trip ticket toward our honeymoon."

"I can go," he offered.

"Don't you have to go to that banquet tonight?" I reminded him. They do it every year, and they honor his father at it every year. So, Tom goes every year.

"I do, shoot."

"It's okay," I said as I slowly stood up. "I'll take it."

"You want to go on a long flight alone on Friday the 13th? Overseas?"

"I'll just be a few hours behind you. It’s not like I’ll be flying over the Bermuda Triangle," I chuckled. He's not usually one to be superstitious, but I'm sure he just didn't want me to be alone on such a long flight.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Officer, I’m sure,” I replied teasingly. I walked right up to the desk and volunteered to get on the other flight. They were very generous and gave me a free meal voucher as well.

I walked back over to my team just as another announcement began the boarding process.

As everyone was standing up and gathering their luggage, I said, "Captain Fuller, I'm going to stay back."

"That's fine," he said as he stood up and lifted his suitcase onto his chair. He shook my hand and said, "I'll see you on Monday."

"See you Monday."

Fuller grabbed his suitcase and headed to the line to get his ticket checked. Judy gave me a hug, followed by Ioki.

Doug said, "have a safe flight," during his hug.

"You too," I said and hugged him back.

Tom hugged me last and held me tight. I put my hand up in his short fluffy hair. He gave me a kiss and said, "have a safe flight, Sloane. Let me know when the flight is and I'll pick you up."

"I will. I love you."

"I love you too."

"I'll be home before you know it." I smiled at him.

Tom entered the tunnel to the plane and waved at me. I waved back, and he disappeared down the bridge.

I went back to the desk and got my new ticket printed. I checked my watch and saw that I had a few more hours to kill before I had to board my flight. Now that I knew when my flight was, I dug some coins out of my bag and walked over to the payphone. I dialed Tom’s number, the line rang and I got his voicemail. I wasn’t surprised, he should be in the sky right now.

“Hey, babe, it’s me. Flight is a red-eye, which sucks. We take off at eleven tonight so I should be landing at six tomorrow morning. It’s going to be a long night, but it’ll be worth it. I’ll see you in the morning, I love you. Don’t be late.”

I hung up and stepped aside to let someone else use the phone. I was going to have to stay in this airport all day, I was already preparing myself for the intense boredom. I sat back down in my chair and I dug through my carry-on bag until I found my book. I read until I was hungry, then I used my meal voucher at a nearby restaurant for lunch. I walked back to the gate, and I stayed in the same seat for hours. My back was killing me, and I was so exhausted but I was too scared of falling asleep and missing my flight. I stayed in my area, occasionally getting up to walk around and stretch. I also wrote out my report for the case we had in Honolulu, so I didn’t have to do it later ant the chapel. Otherwise I kept reading until it was time to board.

The airplane was a typical commercial flight, and pretty big. I gazed down at my ticket as I was shuffled down the isle and quickly found my seat. No one else was in my row yet so I plopped down at the window and shoved my bag under the seat in front of me. I still held my book in my hand, and I continued to read it as everyone found their seats and the flight attendants made their typical safety announcements.

The sun had gone down hours ago, but I was very tired so I shut the window shade and leaned against the tray in front of me and fell asleep. I didn't think I was asleep for that long, but when I woke up and checked my watch again I saw that it had been about five hours. We were still flying over the Pacific, hundreds of miles away from land.

That cat nap woke me right up, because I couldn't fall back to sleep again. I grabbed my book and tried to start reading again, hoping it would make me tired.

I heard a slight rattling sound that made me look away from my book. My seat partner heard it too, because we both half-heartedly glanced around. Out of no where, the entire metal bird lit up like a Christmas tree and a tremendous thunder crashed around the plane. Everyone in the cabin screamed, and I dropped my book at the sudden jolt.

The lights went out and the entire plane was shaking vigorously. I couldn’t see anything. The emergency path lights turned on, the alarm started blaring, and I gripped the arm rests of my seat so hard, I thought I was going to break them off. Passengers were shouting in fear, and another crack of lightning lit up the dark sky. There was a metallic banging that echoed throughout the loud aircraft, and the blaring alarm continued. Everyone was in a sheer state of panic.

It felt like we were falling out of the sky. The violent turbulence was so bad, I heard some people praying. My chest was heaving in fear as my eyes bolted around, trying to see if there was anything I could do to help. The engine was whining, and I almost thought the roof was going to peel off and the plane was going to break apart.

Flashing lights from inside the plane created a strobe effect that reflected off of everyone's terrified faces. A violent jolt caused everyone to buckle their chests to their knees, then the plane began to nose dive which sent all of us flying back into our seats. The pressure was getting more and more unbearable on my chest, and I sincerely thought we were all going to crash and die. I had never been more scared in my entire life.

As suddenly as it came, it stopped. The plane leveled out, and the shaking ceased. Everyone stopped screaming when the overhead lights flickered back on, and I saw the damage that the turbulence created. Luggage had fallen from the overhead bins, spraying people's personal belongings all over the passengers and the isle. Flight attendants were going around, asking if everyone was okay.

I let out a shaky breath and relaxed back into my seat. I finally let myself let go of the plastic arm rests, but my fingers were frozen in that position. My seat partner asked for another drink, which made me laugh. I relaxed my head back against the seat and lifted the window shade up, not seeing any lights below us yet. I brought it back down and closed my eyes for a moment, hoping to ground myself.

We all looked around at each other, all in complete shock and we were still terrified at what had just happened. I don't think anyone has been through turbulence as bad as that before.

The cabin bell dinged and the Captain said over the intercom, "ladies and gentlemen, this is Captain Farver. We are awfully sorry about that, folks. We just hit a pocket of rough air, but everything is in order up here. I want to assure you that everything is under control and there is no danger. There shouldn't be any more surprises for the rest of the flight. Keep those seat belts securely fastened and we will be departing shortly."

I was still breathing hard because I was still trying to find a way to pick my heart up and put it back in my chest. I wasn't hurt, but I was just scared. But, we were all safe and that's all that mattered. I couldn't wait to get off this plane and back into Tom's loving arms. I need to get off this plane.

The flight attendants started preparing us for landing, and I heard the engines roaring and the tires screeching on the runway. I lifted the visor of my window, and noticed some cop cars and ambulances on the runway slowly surrounding the plane in the dark airport. I had no idea what that was about.

"Welcome to Metropolis. The local time here is 6p.m. and it is 66°F. Terribly sorry, folks, but we have been asked to deplane on the tarmac. Thank you for choosing to fly Oceanic Airlines and we hope to see you again soon," the Captain said and the cabin bell dinged again.

People began getting up from their seats and one of the attendants was passing by. I got her attention and pointed out to the flashing lights out the window and asked, "hey, what's going on?"

She glanced out the window, and her reaction made me think that this was the first time she has seen those. "To be completely candid, I'm not sure."

"Is this normal?" I asked. I'm literally a cop, and I've never seen anything like this before.

"No. Something's happening," she responded in a low voice.

My face dropped as she walked away and I rested back in my seat again. My eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. What does that mean? Was there something wrong with the plane? If we made it to our destination, who cares?

The flight attendants helped get everyone off the plane, and they looked just as confused as the rest of us. Even the pilots were poking their heads out of the cockpit, murmuring to each other as everyone debarked the aircraft. We had to leave all of our possessions. Our walk-men, my book, our bags, everything had to stay on the plane. A few people had to leave their jackets too. It was very strange, and I couldn't stop thinking about what was going on that we were being kept in the dark about.

Sirens were wailing as more officials came up to the plane and all the passengers were forced to gather around on the tarmac. We were all confused, cold, and hungry. But, I knew it was serious when I saw massive FBI cars arrive on the scene.

There was an indistinct chatter amongst everyone. We were trying to figure out what was wrong, because no one was telling us anything. I wish I had Tom with me, I was getting nervous. He was always great at keeping me calm. Hopefully he is already here so we can just go home.

”Sincerely, Miss, I have no idea,” he replied. From the shakiness of his voice, I knew he genuinely was just as lost as the rest of us.

I finally decided to ask what was going on. It obviously directly involved us, and no one was giving us any information. Since I just wanted to go home, I stepped forward and got everyone's attention just so someone would answer. "Hey, can someone tell us what's going on? What's the problem?"

One of the officials with the Federal Bureau of Investigation turned around and rubbed his grey eyebrow anxiously. He exhaled and everyone grew quiet to hear what he had to say. "The problem, ladies and gentlemen, is that your plane departed from Honolulu on May 13, 1988. Today, is May 13, 1994."

As soon as he said that, my blood turned ice cold. My jaw dropped, and everyone began murmuring to one another in disbelief. My very first thought was that this was some sort of elaborate prank. I talked to my team just a few hours ago. Everyone was incredibly quiet.

The Agent concluded, "you have all been missing, presumed dead, for exactly six years."

There was a voice in my head that told me that he wasn't joking. This was all incredibly serious, and very real. How was that possible? I talked to my team just a few hours ago. I held my fiancé's hand this morning. This can't be happening.

Some officials in protective gear started marching up the empty plane and we were all escorted to giant hangers that were set up for our arrival. Everyone was asking a million questions but no one had an answer to them.

Volunteers were stationed around, giving us vitamins and Gatorade for electro-lights. Everything felt so surreal, I sat on one of the chairs they provided and sipped my blue Gatorade trying to wrap my head around everything.

One at a time, we were forced to be interviewed by different FBI agents outside of the tent. One of the officials brought me out to a table and I had to sit across from one of the agents who had a massive list of questions for me. I had to give him my drivers license, my passport, even my badge.

"What's your full name?" He asked.

"Sloane Marie Dale," I answered and he wrote down my responses.

"Date of birth?"

"January 8, 1966.”

”Age?”

”I'm 22 years old."

"Social security number."

"555-45-8989," I said.

I was being asked the same questions over and over by different people and I was getting irritated. I was starving, exhausted, and jet-lagged. I just wanted to go home and wake up from this very intense dream.

Once the personal questions were satisfied, he began asking about the flight. "How long were you in the air for?"

"About six hours," I replied honestly.

"How many stops did you make on your way from Honolulu to Metropolis?"

"None, it was a direct flight. I don’t even think you can stop anywhere.”

"Do you have a credit card?"

"Yeah," I said.

"Can you pull it out?"

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my card. I handed it to the agent and he examined it. I asked, "what's going on?"

"This card expired December 1992."

"Right," I said.

"And your drivers license expired January 1990. How did you get on the plane with a license that expired four years ago?"

"Because it wasn't expired when I boarded that flight. When can I leave?" I asked firmly.

"Don't worry, Officer Dale. We are going to have to take a quick look at you and then you can go home. Okay?"

"Okay," I said, "but can you at least tell me why we can't have our stuff? No one is telling me anything."

"Everything needs to be checked. We are doing a very thorough investigation. Answer one more question for me, did anything strange happen on the flight?"

"Yeah, I guess. We had massive turbulence."

"Turbulence?" He asked and wrote my answer down.

I nodded. “Yeah. Worst I've ever been through. I think lightning struck the plane, because the lights went off. It was awful. At one point the nose was pointed down and I think we were falling."

"Okay," he said thoughtfully and wrote down every word I said.

"Has it really been six years?" I asked. My voice got hoarse and I could feel my bottom lip tremble. I didn't want to believe it. It sounded unbelievable.

The agent nodded and said, "yes, Officer, it has. Is there anyone you'd like for us to call for you? Unfortunately, we cannot release anyone until morning but if we contact your family, we can have them come pick you up when you're free to go."

"Can you call my fiancé, Tom Hanson?" I asked and twirled my engagement ring around my finger.

"Of course."

I gave him his phone number and where he worked, and he promised that they would try to get a hold of him. News coverage on the sudden reappearance of our famous flight had caught word that we were alive and well, so every media news outlet was covering our story.

The agent thanked me for my statement and let me leave so he could interview the next passenger. I was led to another little tent where a group of EMT's were giving everyone a thorough physical examination. He was baffled that I was in picture perfect health. All I had were a few bruises on my arms from the jolts of turbulence.

Saturday, May 14, 1994

I barely got any sleep, if any at all. I watched the sun come up because everyone was buzzing with fear and confusion all night. We still couldn't believe it, but I was slowly coming to terms with it. I had a mighty breakfast of a bottled water, and something called a Nutri-Grain bar. It was pretty good, but it dried my mouth out.

Suddenly, I started to hear indistinct shouting all around me. People from the terminal were rushing into the crowd of passengers, shouting names. They were rushing to their loved ones, crying in their arms.

I was anxious that Tom wasn’t going to be here. Six years is a very long time. He might not even live in Metropolis anymore. I’m probably a distant memory to him now.

"Sloane! Sloane!" I heard. I shot up to my feet and spun around, trying to find the source of the familiar voice. My heart was pounding out of my chest, and then I saw him trying to push through the crowd.

We locked eyes, and everything I had to deal with by myself for the past day and a half came rushing over me like a wave. I started running toward Tom, and when there was a clearing of people I rushed into his open arms.

"Oh my god," Tom said with his hand on the back of my head and his other arm had wrapped around me. I saw him just yesterday. He hasn't seen me in six years.

"I'm okay, I'm okay.” I sniffed and he hugged me tighter. I felt so overwhelmed, I didn't know what to do. My throat was so tight, it nearly broke.

He peeled away from me and he held my face in his hands. Tears prickled his dark eyes and his smile was never fading. He yelled happily, "it’s you! How are you here? How do you look exactly the same? You haven't aged a day."

Tom was no longer the 21-year old guy I was in love with. Now, he was 27, and he almost looked like a real adult. He had facial hair now, and his thick brown hair was flicking under his pierced ears. I gazed into his deep brown eyes, and I still saw my Tom.

"I-I don't know," I said honestly.

"You still take my breath away." He laughed in disbelief through his happy tears, "where have you been?"

I thought I knew where I had been. The sky. But now, it was a question I could no longer answer confidently. "I don't know."

He pulled me into another hug and I heard him sniff by my ear. “I love you so much. I’m so happy you’re safe.”

I opened my eyes and saw Fuller standing behind him, with his hands in the pockets of his trench coat. His curly black hair was sprouting gray, and I saw some winkles by his eyes.

I wiped my cheek to get rid of the hot tear that rolled down it and I pulled away from Tom. Tom looked back and noticed Fuller and walked me over to him.

"Still the same age. It's a miracle," Fuller said after scanning my face. "I can't believe it. It's really you."

"What happened?" I asked.

"We should be asking the same thing to you," Tom said. "You're the one who has been MIA since 1988."

"I haven't left that plane," I stated. "We had some crazy turbulence but that was it. I saw you all just a few hours ago. What happened after I disappeared?"

"Well, we landed, and I went to the Metro PD's annual banquet. I had a speech to honor my father, and I went home. I got your voicemail, then I headed to the airport to pick you up the next morning. Your flight didn't come, so I asked an agent at the airport when you guys were landing. He told me that they were trying to figure it out, and that's when the cameras came. I watched the press conference, and they informed everyone that you guys went missing over the ocean," Tom said.

"Oh my god," I said in disbelief.

"The Chief informed me of a missing plane that was supposed to touch down in Metro at the same time your flight was. We all knew that you were on that flight, and we searched tirelessly for your plane, but after six months it was determined that you all perished in the water. You became known as the passengers in the Invisible Crash," Fuller told me.

"Everyone thought you were dead. I thought you were dead. I… I went to your funeral. I never deleted your voicemail because it was the last thing I ever got to hear from you. For years, I thought I should have been the one on that plane, and not you," Tom said in a brittle voice. He cleared his throat, but I saw tears spill from his eyes. "I’m so sorry.”

I didn’t even want to imagine what happened when Tom found out my plane went missing, thinking we had crashed into the middle of the ocean. All of the tears he shed for me. The fact that he blamed himself broke my heart.

”Please don’t blame yourself, no one could have known that I was going to disappear for six years.”

”And you told me not to be late?” He joked through his happy tears.

I could feel the warmth and love that Tom still had for me, even after all of these years. For him. I couldn't believe that the man standing in front of me was my fiancé. He didn't look like himself, but he was still so handsome.

I pulled him into a hug again and said softly, "I'm here now. I'm fine, it's okay."

Fuller was behind me and he continued, "yesterday, I got a call from the Chief and he told me that he was down here last night and recognized you. The FBI wasn't giving any outsiders that much information at the time but he was able to relay to me what had happened. I called Tom—"

"Then I got a call from the FBI, saying that you were alive and ready to come home. I couldn’t believe it," Tom finished for him.

I pulled away and smiled up at him lovingly. I took a quick peak at his fingers, and I didn't see a wedding ring. Thank god. I don't know what I would have done if he was in a serious relationship. I don't know what he would have done. Would he have left her for me?

"We thought you'd want this," Captain said and pulled out a shadow box from his bag. I looked inside, and saw it was a badge with Detective engraved in it.

"Oh my god. I got it?" I asked.

Fuller nodded. “We had it hanging up on the wall since your disappearance. It was right next to your jacket, which we also retired. No one has taken your desk."

"Are you ready to go home?" Tom asked me.

I nodded and pressed my lips against his for a kiss. When I pulled away, I said, "yes, I am."

I just wanted to go home and put this whole mess behind me. I may not be able to pick up where I left off, but I was going to make the most out of this very bizarre situation. I hope that one day I can figure out what happened to Flight 815, but today is not that day.

Chapter 43: 21 Jump Street: No Body, No Crime

Chapter Text

Pamela 's POV
1988

I sat in the interrogation room, fiddling with the sleeve of my cable-knit sweater. The bright light above burned my eyes, so I glanced at the wall and saw a giant mirror and gazed at myself. My face was losing its color, and my eyes were red and watery. I have seen enough movies to know that it's a two-way mirror and there were police officers on the other side looking back at me.

I sniffed and used my sleeve to wipe my runny nose just as the door opened. In came a fresh faced police officer, and he sat down at the metal table across from me.

"Hi, Pamela. I'm Officer Hanson, and I know that Officer Penhall talked to you earlier but I just wanted to ask you some more questions, okay?" He asked. He had dark chocolate brown eyes that I could easily melt into, and a great head of hair. He was really cute, and about my age.

"Anything," I said. I've been brought in for questioning a couple times now, so this wasn't anything new.

He flipped through his papers and asked, "tell me about Este Haim. What's your relation to her?"

"Este's been my best friend for years. We get dinner together every Tuesday night, just to catch up on each others lives."

"Did you notice that she was acting strange or anything before she disappeared?" He asked.

It's been two weeks since she disappeared and I've felt completely lost and broken. I can vividly remember every moment we were together before she disappeared, because she was telling me about her marital problems. I had no idea that in a matter of days she would be dead.

I nodded. “Yeah, sorta. She told me that she had been losing sleep because her husband had been acting different. She said that he was buying jewelry that wasn't for her, and drinking wine that they didn't have. She found out that he was cheating on her."

"Can you recall your last conversation with Mrs. Haim?"

"Last thing she told me was that she was going to call him out about it. She knew that he was cheating on her, but she just didn't know how to prove it. I didn't want to get into it, because it's not my marriage but she had my support."

He wrote down my answers and then asked, "how did you know that she was missing?"

"We were supposed to meet at Olive Garden that next Tuesday, and she wasn't there. I called her work, and they said that she didn't show up that day," I disclosed. I crossed my arms over my chest and let out a shaky breath. I sniffed again and glanced up to avoid any emotional outburst.

"That's when Mr. Haim reported her missing?" He asked.

I nodded again. “Yes, that's correct."

"Do you think Mr. Haim had anything to do with her disappearance?"

"I did notice when I passed his house that his truck has some brand new tires, and the scuttlebutt is that his mistress had moved in. She sleeps in Este's bed and everything. Honestly, Officer Hanson, I truly think he did it but I just can't prove it."

Officer Hanson cleared his throat as he feverishly recorded my answers. When he finished, he said, "as you know, Mr. Haim has recently become a missing person. Is there anything you know about that?"

My breath halted in my throat, but I played it off by running my fingers through my hair but I kept my eye contact to the handsome cop. The events of the past couple of nights ran through my head. The sound of his body splashing into the water echoed in my ears, and the replay of having to bury the bloodied murder weapon was etched into my brain. No one on this earth can murder my best friend and get away with it.

My father made me get a boating license when I was fifteen. Little did I know back then, that it would keep me out of jail now. I have cleaned houses for years, which properly taught me how to clean up a crime scene. Otherwise, I'd probably be a suspect.

Hanson spoke up again, "it says here that Este Haim's sister confirmed your alibi. Quote, "she was with me, dude", unquote, so we aren't looking at you. But is there anyone that you think may have done it?"

I looked him dead in the eye and said, "I heard his mistress took out a big life insurance policy."

Officer Hanson took a quick peek at his case file and he pulled out one of the papers and gave it a once over. "Yeah, our records indicate that. We do have her in custody."

"She thinks I did it. Doesn't she?" I asked. I met the mistress a few times, mostly after Este disappeared. She hates me and would probably pay to see me rot in jail. I think she knows that I did it, but she just can't prove it.

Hanson responded, "sorry, Pamela, but I just can't disclose that information. Unfortunately, we haven't been able to find the body either so we don't have any concrete evidence yet. You know what they say: no body, no crime."

I said in a shaky voice, "I will not let up that he killed Este until the day he dies. He did it, I know he did."

"Whoever did this to your friend, we will make sure justice is served," Officer Hanson reassured.

"Thank you, Officer.” I smiled at him.

Hanson stood up and escorted me out of the interview room. I left the building, and headed straight for my car. I let out a shaky breath and peered down at my fingernails. The remains of dirt and blood that had dried under my nails was disgusting, and I was relieved that the Officer didn't notice. I shook my hands out to get rid of the jitters.

I just got away with murder.

Chapter 44: Sleepy Hollow: Green Ribbon

Chapter Text

Narrator's POV
1779

The young and beautiful Tabitha was one of the Headless Horseman's first victims. Her journey into the Western Woods was routine, and she was not made aware of the murderous ghost who lurked in the woods until it was too late.

Tabitha had lived in Sleepy Hollow her whole life, and she did not come from a wealthy family. Suitors came from all around just for the chance to meet her, but she turned them down. She liked to keep to herself, and often dreamed about escaping the town someday. She was not only known for her beauty, but also her kindness, compassion, and quietness.

She walked past the bridge, with a scarlet cape around her shoulders, flowing behind her slightly. She slowly walked down the trail, diving deeper and deeper into the woods. Her only light was from the moon and the stars that twinkled above. She was trying to find her green ribbon that she had lost earlier in the day. Everyone warned her about venturing into the woods at night, but she didn't believe in such foolish tales.

She bent down to grab her ribbon that got snagged on a dead branch of a fallen tree. Once she released the ribbon, she tied it around her neck like a necklace so she wouldn't lose it. She heard the sound of a horse approaching her, and soon as she stood back up, a swift motion of a heavy sword cut right through her neck, severing her head instantly.

She was killed right on the stroke of midnight. The stars were aligned, killing the girl but not getting taken by the Headless Horseman.

Now, every parent in Sleepy Hollow warns their children about the Headless Horseman. They use Tabitha's tragic story as a warning. Legend says that her vengeful spirit lingers around the outskirts of the woods, beckoning unsuspecting humans into the woods to fall victim to the Headless Horseman. You know you've met her, if you see her green ribbon around her neck. It keeps her head on.

1799

Ichabod Crane was a police officer who came from New York to assist in finding the murderer who plagued fear into the town of Sleepy Hollow. He was aware of the intense fear of ghosts and ghouls that roamed the town, and the legend of the Headless Horseman was one he didn't believe in. He knew that the murderer was human, because he didn't believe ghosts existed.

That was, until he met one.

He was putting his horse back in the stables when he looked out to the woods and noticed a beautiful woman standing beside a tree. The sky was dark, so he could only confidently see her silhouette. Her mauve polonaise was a little old-fashioned, but lovely nonetheless.

She called out to him like the song of a siren, and he was a sailor. He quickly put his horse in the barn, and began walking toward the woods. He kept his eyes on her intently, determined to stop at nothing to talk to her.

The closer he got, the woman slowly began disappearing into the woods. It was so silent in the woods, he didn't even hear any animal noises. But, he was too preoccupied with the mysterious woman that he didn't care to notice the eerieness of the night.

Ichabod frowned and he called out, "hello. I wish to speak with you, if you have a moment, Miss."

Tabitha heard him, but continued to lure him further and further into the woods. Ichabod kept losing her behind trees, but slithered through the woods and stomped through dead leaves to try to keep up with her. Once they were deep enough, she finally stopped. Ichabod came up behind her, catching his breath. He was able to properly see her tousled brown hair, until she turned around and greeted him with a gentle smile.

"Oh, pardon me. I did not realize I was being sought after," Tabitha said, walking up to Ichabod.

"Do forgive me. I just—I had to see you. You have bewitched me, Miss," Ichabod said. His heart fluttered when he looked at her. Her brown eyes twinkled up at him under the light of the moon, and he had a false sense of security when he was near her.

"It's a pleasure," she said.

"I'm Ichabod Crane. And you are?" He offered her his hand, which she took. He immediately noticed that she was as cold as death.

"Tabitha Baker. I have heard of you. Officer from New York, is that right?" She asked with a silvery voice.

"Yes, that's right.” He nodded and smiled. He quickly stripped his coat off and placed it around her shoulders to help warm her up.

"Thank you. So, you've heard the stories," she said.

"More or less."

"And you journey into these woods, with no horse. Alone," she said as she slowly started to walk down the trail with Ichabod right beside her.

"We have murder in New York without help from ghouls and goblins."

"You are a long way from New York."

"Yes, well, then this is probably not my best decision of the night," he chuckled softly. He rubbed his hands together to warm them up since he gave Tabitha his warm coat.

"I think you're right," Tabitha laughed.

"What brings you into these woods? With no horse. Alone."

Tabitha's pale face beamed when she smiled. "I have lost a possession of mine. I've been looking for it, but I can't seem to find it. It's dreadfully difficult in the dark.

"Perhaps I could be of some assistance," he offered without knowing what it was she was looking for.

"That would be lovely. Thank you."

Ichabod felt like he could talk to her for hours. He would if he could. But then, his eyes glanced down at her delicate neck, where he noticed a green ribbon tied around it. His smile faltered, and his laugh ceased. Fear washed over his face, and his palms got clammy. He stopped walking, which made Tabitha turn to face him.

"What is it?" Tabitha asked, copying his expression to express her confusion.

"Your—your neck," he said, bringing his shaky hand up to his own. "There's a ribbon."

"Yes?" She asked, bringing her hand up to the fabric and fiddling with the frayed ends between her fingers. Dried blood stained the delicate fabric, appearing black in the darkness of the night.

"I've heard ofGreen RibbonTabitha. She's said to haunt these woods. That's you, isn't it? You died twenty years ago. Right here in these woods."

"Do you believe in ghost stories, Mr. Crane?" Tabitha asked with venom in her voice, stepping closer to Ichabod while pinching the ribbon end between her fingers.

Ichabod looked into her eyes, and the kindness that filled them suddenly drained. Her brown eyes turned dull and a shadow casted over them. Evil eyes. Even her face seemed to twist into something demonic. Ichabod's eyes were looking between Tabitha's eyes and the ribbon fleetingly. He stumbled back and his fear remained constant. He was trembling with terror, but he managed to say, "n-n-n-no, I don't."

Tabitha's ominous chuckle brought shivers up Ichabod's back. With one hand, she pulled the ribbon. The ribbon slowly floated down to her feet, which Ichabod watched with his giant eyes. When he looked back up at her, he saw her head fall off her neck and roll to his feet.

With shaking hands, he grabbed her head and felt her coarse brown hair between his fingers. Tabitha's face twisted into a sinister smirk and she said to him, "you best start believing in ghost stories, Mr. Crane. You're in one. The horseman comes, Mr. Crane. And tonight, he comes for you!"

Her head slipped from his hands, and his eyes rolled to the back of his head and his body gave out as he collapsed to the ground. He passed out, as he often did when he was utterly terrified.

Tabitha reached out and grabbed his hair before he could completely fall to the ground and pulled him up. His jaw was slack and his eyelids fell closed in unconsciousness.

Tabitha heard the sweet sounds of the Headless Horseman's horse running towards them. She scooped up her head with her free hand and held it in tightly by her hip. Her eyes looked up to see the Headless Horseman running up to them, drawing his sword.

Once he reached them, he chopped off Ichabod's head with one fluid motion. His body fell to the leaf covered ground, and Tabitha kept a strong hold of his severed head. The last thing Ichabod heard was Tabitha's menacing laugh.

The Headless Horseman needs a head, and Ichabod's was going with him, straight to hell.

You really can't reason with a headless man, or woman.

Chapter 45: Pirates of the Caribbean: Modern Ghost

Chapter Text

Jack's POV
2024

I woke up with a throbbing pain in my heavy head, and a tickle in my nose. I rubbed my finger against my chapped lip, trying to shake the feeling off of me.

I must have passed out here last night, with no clue what had happened. I let my dry eyes pry open and I sat up, feeling my clothes readjust themselves as I stretched my arms. I scratched my back as I looked around, and then I froze. I did not remember how I got myself in this strange house last night... I was probably drunk but I've never been thatdrunk.

I glanced around the room, barely recognizing a single object. I saw a giant machine on the ceiling, so I quickly scrambled up to my feet and let my head hang back so I could look at it. It was spinning so fast, I could feel the wind on my face. I tried to follow one of the beasts' arms by running after it in tight, small circles, but I got dizzy really fast. What is this five arm beast?

The sound of keys jingling outside the door startled me. I stopped running and grunted as I turned to the door to see a woman walking in. If I was holding something, I would have dropped it.

She carried large brown bags in her arms, and didn't seem to notice me. I retreated to the corner of the room I was in, and she went straight to the home's kitchen.

My eyebrows dropped down over my eyes as I crept up near her. Granted I was as quiet as a mouse, but she still didn't acknowledge me. Not even a little bit. If a strange person was in my home, I'd at least want to know their name.

Unless we met last night. Oh, why can't I remember anything? I'd definitely remember a beautiful specimen such as herself.

My eyes lingered down at her attire, and my jaw dropped to the floor. Her legs were covered in a particular blue fabric which created trousers. Her feet were bare, and her upper half was covered by some sort of thick cotton material. Why was she dressed as a man? A very strange man.

I cleared my throat before I spoke up so I didn't spook her. "Darling, would you be so kind as to tell me where I am?"

She didn't even look my way. How rude. I frowned again, I am not used to being ignored like this.

Based entirely on her appearance alone, she must be some sort of prostitute. But obviously, not a very good kind. Her trousers were quite unattractive, for it should be a dress or nothing. She must not like to get the fabric dirty because I could see her ankles, another sign of prostitution. She wasn't wearing a corset either, which was a strange yet alluring choice. Her brown hair was loose, flying around her shoulders every time she turned her head. I barely caught a glimpse of her brown eyes, but they were dancing.

I came right up to her just as she turned my way. Before I could jump out of her way, she stepped into me. At least that's what I was prepared for. She walked right through me. I gasped and turned to follow her. I tapped her shoulder and screamed into her ear to test my theory. She didn't even flinch. She couldn't see me, or hear me. I was nothing but a ghost to her.

After a brief mental breakdown, and finding out that the world had gone on without Captain Jack Sparrow and how I was now in the year 2024, I decided to spend the rest of my immortal days following this poor lass around.

I grew quite fond of her. She lives alone in a little home, but takes care of a little kitty-cat who she named Hobbs. Her name is Danielle, and she enjoys baking, her kitty-cat, and speaking through an interesting device that sends your words to another person who isn't in the room with you. It's amazing how far we've come in society.

I remember the first night she had gone into a separate room off of the living room, and came back out wearing a loose blouse and trousers so short they stopped well above her knee. If I wasn't already dead, I would have died right then. Was I in heaven? Since then, I've seen a lot more than just her knee, if you know what I mean. I've seen her elbows too, and her shoulders. Dare I reveal, her lower back as well.

She used the strange rectangle to talk to someone. I stood right behind her, leaning my ear towards the rectangle to hear the voice on the other side. They began gossiping, and ever since then I joined in every conversation she had on the rectangle. I cannot wait to find out if her old acquaintance is with child with a man who was courting her sister. I would say that I am living for this drama, but I'm not alive.

Even though she couldn't hear me, I'd include myself in the conversation by saying, "if he stands her up again, I don't know what I'm going to do," and, "for your mate to be happy, she has to love herself the way that that bloody bloke Tom loves himself."

Tonight, she turned on a giant box that always distracts me by showing some sort of play put on by tiny elves in the box. It's like she knows I'm there. I plopped myself down on her plushy couch, while she was creating something delicious in the kitchen.

Hobbs jumped up on the couch, and he rubbed his strong head against my arm. I reached over to scratch his chin. His coat is entirely grey, and he always looks at me with his big green eyes. He can see me.

"What are you looking at? Huh?" Danielle asked the cat. "Huh? Silly boy."

She needs to find herself a man. Or a lass. Whichever. I don't judge. Homosexuality doesn't offend me. Anyone that is not a pussy-cat. Bloody strange thing. She needs a human friend desperately that does not live in a rectangle.

I stood up and walked over to the kitchen, curious as to what lovely scent she was creating. My nose twitched as I tried to figure it out, but I gave up. I peered down over her shoulder and saw some sort of brown batter with brown specks in it. She has made these before, and they were delicious. She thought her cat ate some of them, but it was in fact just me.

"I love these." I always talk to her even though she can't hear me. I put my hand on her arm to balance myself. Her arm immediately prickled with goose bumps, which she rubbed away.

She pressed some buttons on a machine, which she has referred to in the past as an oven, and retreated back to the couch. I squinted at the numbers, and realized that she put the temperature on too high. Just to see if it would work, I pressed the cancel button and it made a loud beep noise.

My eyes bugged and I retreated my hand back, then I heard Danielle get off the couch and come back to the oven. I stepped out of her way, swaying in place. Even after all these years, it still feels like I'm on a ship. She looked adorably confused, but she fixed the temperature and went back to the couch. I smiled contently. I'm helping her, one baked good at a time.

I slowly followed her, and even though I enjoy our separate lives together, I was bored. We both can't talk to that poor kitty-cat.

Her eyes left the television screen and she brought her focus to Hobbs. She scratched his head and noticed that the cat was looking straight at me. Every time I moved, his eyes followed.

"Whatcha looking at, huh? A ghost?" She chuckled.

My eyebrows lifted up. She didn't seem scared, so maybe it's a good idea. I can let her know that I'm here. I can try to communicate. I'm tired of watching her life. I want to be a part of it. I need a friend too.

I looked around and tried to find a way I could do something. I found that my strength increases when I fiddle with the technology advances of this modern day, so I went straight to the television set. I peered down at the buttons and pressed random ones, which changed the channels and the volume.

Dani's eyes widened in fear and she slowly stood up from her seat, squinting at the screen. She noticed the cat still looking at me, and she grabbed the remote and quickly turned the television off. I walked straight to her radio, and turned it on. I messed around with the stations, allowing the feedback to screech until she turned that off too.

She looked around in fear and her words trembled, "okay, okay, you're here. Who are you?"

How do I tell her my name is Jack? I glanced around until my eyes landed on her refrigerator, where magnetic letters were stuck to it.

I ran to her kitchen, accidentally bumping my hand against the wall in the process because my hands like to flip around when I run. I apologized to the wall, then stood in front of the fridge. I bent down slightly and used all my strength to move the letters around until I could spell Jack.

She must have heard the sounds of my magnets moving, so she came right up to me and I saw her face twist with horror as she witnessed her magnetic pieces moving by themselves.

"Jack," her lips moved.

"Jack!" I said proudly, feeling my compass softly hit my leg as I quickly stood up straight.

Then, she screamed and ran out the door.

"You forgot your cat!" I yelled out at her, but to no surprise, she didn't answer. Her response was slamming the front door shut. I don't even think she locked it.

While she was gone, I played with the kitty-cat, and went through my effects. I've had my coat, belts, and weapons in the corner of the living room ever since I got here, because she can't see them anyway. I also turned off the oven for her when the timer beeped, but I don't have the strength to physically take the brownies out of the oven so that was a job for her to do.

It didn't take long for her to come back with some sort of board. She marched in confidently and placed it on the ground and sat cross legged in front of it, with a little wooden piece with a hole in the middle at her fingertips.

The board had a yes and no area, the entire alphabet, numbers, and the word goodbye at the bottom. Communication through this spirit board would be much easier for me to accomplish.

Dani closed her eyes and asked, "Jack, are you still here?"

"I never left, love," I said. I copied her movements and placed my hand to the little planchette. I slowly guided it to the yes part of the board, and she gasped. Why was she so surprised?

"Are you a good spirit?"

I slowly spelled out my answer. "Depends on who is asking."

"How old are you?"

"I-D-K."I learned that acronym while watching her spell words out on her rectangle. It meansI Don't Know. I thought that was a fun little shortcut.

"What year did you die? Or remember last?"

"1755," I responded honestly.

"What are you? Who are you?"

"Pirate."

Her eyebrows raised slightly. "A pirate?" She repeated.

I moved the piece to yes. Before she could ask another question, I gave her my full name. "Captain Jack Sparrow."

"How long have you been here?" She asked.

I peered back at the calendar she keeps on the wall and responded, "3 months."

"You've been watching me live for three months?" She asked, almost in disbelief.

"Yes."

"I guess you're not leaving any time soon, huh?"

"No."

She sighed softly and said, "okay, that's fine. But no watching me change, please."

I smirked to myself and replied, "too late."

I noticed her blush and I chuckled. Of course I haven't seeneverything, I may be a pirate but I'm more respectable than that. I wish she could see me and we could have a real conversation. I think she would like what she would see. I've gotten to know her, but she should get to know me. I'm pretty interesting to talk to. And I'm quite handsome.

"Okay, well, I guess we are roommates now."

We developed an efficient system where she would leave the Ouija board out for us to communicate through, and I would also use the magnetic letters if it was small stuff. Sometimes I'll remind her to pick up milk or something, because she always forgets. She loves milk.

Dani also did some research about me on her rectangle. She read all about my adventures, and asks me questions about them. She believes I escaped that island by strapping sea turtles to my feet, using my back hair for rope. She also found out how I died, but I refused to hear it. I don't want to know.

She also started letting me give my input on what plays we watch on the screen, so I will change the channel to something I want to watch. I'll turn her lights off for her, because she often forgets that too.

We became the most unlikely of friends. I don't know what I would do if she moved, but for now we were just enjoying each others company.

It's a roommates life for me.

Chapter 46: 21 Jump Street: Murder in Metro

Chapter Text

Tom's POV
1987

I was fairly new to the undercover game, but I caught on pretty quickly. After spending a few cases at different high schools around the area, Captain Jenko assigned me to a nearby university. Someone has been killing girls over there, and has just been classified as a serial killer.

I held my sack lunch in my hand, scanning the cafeteria slowly to try to find anyone I recognized. I have found that making friends and talking to the students during lunch is the easiest way to get them to give me information because their guard is down. I spotted a girl that I recognized from class, and I made my way over to her.

When I first saw her in class, I was too nervous to sit beside her. I know, it's dumb... but I can say with the upmost confidence that she is one of the most attractive women I've ever seen. Maybe when this mission is over I can get her number or something.

I came up to the table and asked, "is anyone sitting here?"

She looked up at me with a small smile. "No, go ahead."

I took the seat right beside her and set my lunch on the table. When I sat down, she asked, "hey, you're that new guy in psych, right?"

I nodded. “Yeah. I'm Tom McAllister."

"Mandy."

"Nice to formally meet you, Mandy. Are you new too?"

"No, I just haven't been at school."

"Oh," I said, "how come?"

"Um... have you heard about those girls who have been getting killed?"

"Yeah. It's really sad."

"Yeah. My best friend was killed about a month ago. This is my first day back," she stated with a shaky breath.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't know," I said gently. I felt terrible for making her reveal why she's been absent. It wasn't any of my business.

"It's... well, it's not okay but I'm hanging in there. It's just been really hard."

"If you ever need anything, just let me know," I said comfortingly. I put my hand on her back and rubbed gently.

"I've started falling behind in all my classes. The teachers understand, but it sucks."

"If you want, we can meet up at the library tonight and I can help you out. I took this class at my old university so I'm doing pretty well."

"You mean it?"

"Of course."

"That would be great. We can meet at my place. My roommate is going home for the weekend so it'll be quiet."

"Why not the library?" I asked.

"They're doing some sort of construction over there so it's closing early today," she stated confidently.

"Oh, okay," I said and grabbed my notebook from my backpack and ripped off a piece of paper. I handed it to her with a pencil and asked her to write down her address.

"Here," she said after writing it down. She checked her watch and then shoved the rest of her sandwich into her mouth. "My class starts in five. See you at... seven o'clock?"

I nodded and smiled at her. “See you."

She grabbed her bag and headed out of the cafeteria. I sighed and ate the rest of my lunch in peace. I wished I could ask other students about Mandy's relationship with her best friend, but this is a huge university. It would be very difficult to find someone who knew them both, besides the roommate but I had no idea who she was.

I finished my lunch, and went to my next class.

During that class, I was putting my books away when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see a girl I had never met before. She had a strange look on her face and a piece of paper in her hand. "Why do you have my address in your pocket?"

"Oh." I took the paper from her and put it back in my pocket. I didn't realize it fell out. "Sorry, I'm meeting Mandy tonight and she gave me her address."

"Oh, okay. I got nervous for a second, I'm sorry."

I chuckled gently. "It's okay. Hey, did you know Mandy's best friend?"

"Of course. They hung out all the time, until last month."

We started to slowly walk together out the door and I asked, "last month? What happened?"

She shrugged. "I'm not sure. Mandy wouldn't talk to me about it. And then she was murdered..."

"How long were they friends for?" I asked.

"Since grade school, I think. Listen, man, I have to run to class."

"Sorry. Here.” I grabbed my pen and ripped off a flier from the wall and gave her the number to Jump Street. We have an extra phone line that we use so we don't give students our actual numbers, and it does not reveal to be a cop precinct. "If you know anything else about the murders, call me. Please."

She took the paper and smiled. "Will do. Thanks."

We went off in our separate directions.

That night, I drove over to Mandy's apartment and knocked on her door. I didn't have to wait long before she opened it. Her smile brightened up the hallway and she opened the door more to welcome me in.

"You made it," she said, "find the place okay?"

"Yeah, it was easy," I said and made my way to the couch.

"Sorry it's a little messy," she said as she kicked something into one of the bedrooms and shut the door. "We aren't used to having company."

"It's fine," I reassured. I was just happy to be hanging out with her. I didn't mind the disorganized mess, my apartment isn't perfect either.

"Can I get you something to drink? Water, or whatever?"

"Water would be great," I said. I didn't want water, but I also didn't want to be rude.

When she came back with a glass of water, we sat at her little dinner table where she had prepared our tutor session with her books and notes.

As we were preparing our notebooks, she asked, "why did you change universities?"

"I wanted to change my major and my old school didn't offer what I wanted, so I came here."

"Oh, okay," she said. She gripped the pen in her left hand and began writing the topic on top of her paper. She accidentally bumped me with her elbow and apologized. "Sorry. Lefty."

"It's okay," I chuckled. Then, I opened the textbook and we began studying.

After a couple of hours of helping her study, I decided to poke and prod her a little more about the murders. Once the opportunity was presented, I asked, "do you know anyone else who was killed by this guy?"

She shook her head. “No. Not personally. A lot of them have been in my classes and stuff though."

This poor girl. She has been surrounded by so much death. Even if she didn't know who they were, it must be terrifying. She must be terrified that she could be next.

"What was used to kill her? Do you know?"

"It was... um... s-strangulation, I think. Then a screwdriver through her head," her voice was shaky.

That's exactly how this serial killer has been killing his victims. He strangles them, then shoves a screwdriver through their temples. It's absolutely horrific, and I had to inspect the pictures that headquarters had of the crimes before I took the case. Pictures I never want to see ever again. But, it makes us believe that the killer is male because of how disorganized and messy the crimes are. Women typically clean up their murders.

"That's awful. Do you think you know who it is? I mean, if my best friend died I'd stop at nothing to figure out who it is."

All she did was shrug and say, "not sure. Probably some guy."

That's it?

"Oh. Like a student, or..?"

"Are you a cop?" She asked. Her tone of sadness was snapped to anger. I didn't blame her, I'd get angry too.

"What? No, of course not. Why would you ask such a silly question?" I asked defensively.

"Are you writing a book?"

I frowned. “No."

"Then why are you asking me all these questions? I don't know, okay? I don't want to talk about it anymore."

I decided to drop it. This was probably much harder for her to talk about than it was for me. I didn't want to push her too hard. Her best friend just died. I need to be more respectful.

Back at school, Mandy didn't show up to class. I thought it was strange until the Dean made an announcement to the entire school, stating that two more girls had gone missing from campus. Everyone was to be sent home until further investigation could be completed.

I was running out of time. I grabbed my bag and drove straight to the chapel, where I met with Jenko in his office. He was on the phone, with a for once serious look on his face. His bag of potato chips were untouched, and he seemed like a real adult.

He must have been on hold, because he let me tell him about how we were all being sent home because of the serial killer and how two girls were just kidnapped.

"I know, Hanson. I'm on the phone with Captain Briody from Headquarters right now. He—hello?" He brought his attention back to the phone. He quickly wrote something down on a slip of paper and thanked Briody before hanging up. He looked up while handing the paper to me and said, "back up will meet you there. We got an anonymous tip."

I took the paper and noticed it was an address. I asked, "do they know who is kidnapped?"

"Yeah. Mandy Banks and Lisa Moore. They were both reported missing this morning. Mandy's roommate called the second line asking for you, and in her voicemail she said that Mandy wasn't home but she found blood on her bedroom doorknob."

I raced back to my car and sped down to the street. I was with Mandy until eleven o'clock last night. That's a less than nine hour window where the killer could have kidnapped her and brought her to a secondary location. He was probably waiting for me to leave. God, why didn't I stay?

I drove up to a warehouse where other officers were there, waiting for me. Doug was there too, and he informed me that they already searched the area around the warehouse and didn't find anything. We stormed the warehouse, and we began searching everywhere.

I found a door that must lead to the basement. I tried to handle, but it was locked. I held my gun in my hand and gripped it tight. I gave the door a swift kick, which broke the lock. The door slammed when it hit the wall, and I rushed in with my gun drawn.

"Police!" I shouted. "Come out with your hands up."

I heard a soft, "help! Help us!"

Doug and I rushed into the next room and kicked the door down. That's where we saw an open back door, and the two girls were chained to the radiator. Doug rushed to the back door to try to find the perpetrator, while I rushed to the girls.

Mandy's lips were trembling as I got the chain off of her. Sobs were shaking her chest and tears and makeup was smeared down her flushed cheeks. I had a double take when I saw Lisa, because she was slumped over her legs with a screwdriver handle sticking out of her temple. Dark blood pooled around her legs, soaking her pants and shirt completely. Her eyes were wide open in fear, but her face was frozen in an expression that would haunt anyones dreams. She was dead.

"He was about to kill me," Mandy gasped. Both of her hands were shaking tremendously, her left one was covered in blood. "I... I'm scared, Tom."

"You're safe now," I promised her. She fell into me with a hug, and I put my arms around her and dragged her away from her dead classmate. I let my fingers trickle through her sticky hair in an attempt to comfort her, and she cried in my arms.

Doug came running back and he put his gun away as he said, "no one is out there."

"I don't want him to find me," Mandy sobbed.

"You're safe," I promised. I kissed the top of her head, and reassured her again that she was safe. Using my radio, I called for an EMT to meet us upstairs, and I helped her get up to him.

"Are you okay?" I asked her as we slowly started walking up the stairs.

"Y-yeah, I think so. My head really hurts."

"We will have the EMT look at that," I promised.

"How did you find me?"

"I'm a cop, Mandy. I was investigating the murders."

She sniffed, "so that's why you were asking me about..."

"Yeah." I nodded. "That's why."

We walked to the EMT and I told him about her head, and I helped sit her on the stretcher so he could examine her. I kept talking to her to distract her from watching Lisa's body being taken out of the warehouse by a bodybag.

One of the other officers offered to take her home, so I gave her a hug goodbye and I promised to visit her as soon as I could. I drove to the chapel where I gave Jenko my report and tied up some loose ends. I was so angry, I vowed to catch this guy if it's the last thing I do.

When I was about to go home, Jenko came out and told me that they wanted me back up at Headquarters. I wasn't sure what they wanted from me, but I went over there anyway.

I checked in with the front desk and Briody met me in the hallway. He led me to the room off of the interrogation room and I saw Mandy through the window, sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in her hand. A frown was stamped on her face, and she looked miserable. She should be at home, not being questioned about her kidnapping. We can do that tomorrow.

I frowned as I pointed at her and asked, "what the hell is she doing in there?"

Briody came up to me and told me in a low voice, "we found her DNA on the murder weapon.”

“Yeah, because she is covered in blood,” I pointed out angrily.

“Tom, Her fingerprints were all over it. That’s not her blood."

My eyes bugged at that news and I physically felt my heart stop. "What?"

"We just need a confession," Judy said gently and handed me the paperwork. I scanned it, and saw that it really was her fingerprints on the screwdriver.

"That's where you come in," Doug added.

"She trusts you the most," Briody said.

"You're joking," I said, "there must be some mistake. She couldn't have."

Judy shook her head. "She did it, Hanson. Every murder."

"Even her best friend?" I asked solemnly.

"Even her best friend," Doug said. He handed me an envelope, enclosed were numerous letters exchanged between the two. I read through them, realizing that she now had motive.

I looked at her again through the window and sighed gently. This was difficult to process, because I really liked her. But I couldn't believe that she tricked me and made me look like a damn fool.

I took a deep breath and went through all the evidence again to make sure I wasn't clouded by my personal bias towards her. She was a cold blooded killer, and I had to arrest her.

I walked into the room and shut the door gently. Mandy looked up at me and smiled, "Tom. Thank goodness. When do you think I can leave?"

I sighed and sat down across from her. I looked into her beautiful brown eyes and had to remind myself of what she did. I just couldn't believe someone as lovely and beautiful as her could do something so cruel and heartless. "Mandy, we found letters between you and your best friend. Wanna tell me about them?"

I put the letters on the table in front of her and let her look through them. Her eyes widened. She must have thought that no one was going to ever see these.

She stammered, "I-I-I don't know."

I needed to treat her like I would with everyone else. I dropped the Good Cop act and said, "let's cut the shit, Mandy."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You killed your best friend in a fit of rage. Then, you killed other girls that lookedjustlike her to make it look like a serial killer. Then, you were going to frame it all on your cheating ex-boyfriend."

"No!"

"Admit it!" I slammed my hand on the table and leaned in towards her. "You caught your best friend sleeping with your boyfriend."

"Shut up!" She screamed at me.

"Then, you let the anger boil up inside before you snapped. You strangled your best friend as she slept because you had a key to her apartment."

"Stop!"

"Then, you shoved a screwdriver through her temple to make it look like a signature."

"Tom, please!" Her eyes squeezed shut and she covered her ears with her hands.

I got louder to make sure she could hear me. "You knew it would be traced back to you so you took your anger out of innocent women around your campus, giving them all the same signature. Then, when you knew we were closing in on you, you framed your own kidnapping to act like a victim to throw us off the scent. Well, guess what, doll face." I angrily tossed the envelope with all the evidence we had to arrest her onto the table. "Your DNA and fingerprints were found on every single murder weapon used."

"They fucking deserved it!" She shouted. As soon as it left her mouth, her eyes bugged and she knew she messed up. Her eyes filled with crocodile tears. Her lips moved like she was trying to come up with something to say to save her ass, but it was too late. She accidentally confessed.

I sighed. Why are the crazy ones so damn hot?

"Stand up," I ordered in a strong tone, standing up myself. I took my handcuffs out of my pocket and walked around the table to be beside her.

I couldn't believe I was so oblivious to the obvious signs that she was the murderer. From the way she acted when I questioned her about it while we were studying, to the fact that there was no one else at the warehouse. Her apartment was disorganized, like we assumed the killer would be. And her left hand was bloody when I found her. She's left handed. I was blinded by my infatuation with her. I'll never let that happened ever again.

She rolled her eyes and stood up. I walked behind her and pinned her wrists behind her back. My lips were right by her ear as tightened her handcuffs.

"Amanda Banks, you are under arrest for the murders of eleven women. You have the right to remain silent..."

"I thought you were beginning to like me," she said softly.

I was silent for a moment before I answered, "I was."

I continued giving her her Miranda Rights as I escorted her out of the room and down to the cells where we could prosecute her for the murders of eleven women in the span of just a month. After her trial, she may or may not get sentenced to death but she will certainly spend the rest of her life in prison.

Chapter 47: 21 Jump Street: The TV Show

Chapter Text

Y/n's POV
April 12, 1987

It was early Sunday morning, so I made myself some chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast and turned on the morning cartoons. I had a long day at work yesterday on what was supposed to be my day off, so I was just trying to recharge before Monday.

Someone knocked on the front door of my apartment, and wouldn't stop. I groaned and put my plate of syrupy pancakes on my coffee table before I stood up. I yawned as I trudged to the door with my blanket hanging over my shoulders. The assailant was still knocking feverishly on the door, like it was his job. I was too tired to look out my little peephole so I just opened the door.

Before I could say anything, Doug stormed right past me shouting, "turn on the TV! Turn on the TV!"

"Uhhh, come in?" I was going to shut the door but then the rest of the team was coming up and walked into my apartment after him.

I've known these guys for years, so I didn't mind not looking super professional in front of them. I was in my pajamas, and my (h/c) hair was up and out of my face. But I was very confused as to why they all came to my apartment unannounced.

Tom walked in last and I closed the door behind him. I felt my cheeks warm up when I saw him, but I tried to push that feeling away. I've had a crush on him ever since he started working at Jump Street, but no one knows about it. I'm afraid that he doesn't feel the same, so I've kept it to myself. "Good morning."

"Good morning," he said back with a bright smile that lit up my apartment. His eyes lingered over to my kitchen and he said, "smells good."

“Chocolate chip pancakes.”

”My favorite.”

”Plates are in the cabinet, I have more on the counter so help yourself.”

Tom took my offer and headed to the kitchen to grab himself a plate of pancakes. I left the bottle of syrup and the butter on the counter next to the extra pancakes. I grabbed my plate from the coffee table and Tom held his own full plate in his hand and stood beside me, and we looked out at our teammates standing in my living room together as we simultaneously ate our breakfast.

"Do you know what this is all about?" I asked, gesturing to everyone with my fork. I watched Doug jump and land on his stomach on my couch, gripping the remote in his hand and changing the channel as fast as he could.

"Not a clue," Tom said.

"Hey! I was watching that," I said and stomped over to the couch and snatched the remote out of his hands.

He pointed to the screen and shouted, "watch!"

I froze when I heard the voice on the television screen shout, "yo! Jenko!"

My head shot up and we all glued our eyes to the screen. We all stopped our conversations so we could watch. I recognized the stained glass in the background and I said, "that looks like the chapel."

On the screen were three guys. One of them, said, "you got to turbo-charge your hair or something, Hanson. You look like Richie Cunningham."

I stared at the handsome actor who was wearing a police uniform with stiff hair, then looked at Tom. He has Tom's name. I slowly sat on the arm of my couch, too distracted to eat any more of my breakfast.

Then, someone came sliding down the fireman's pole. We have a fireman's pole in our chapel too. "Hey, what's happening, man?"

"Hi. I'm here to see, Captain Jenko," Hanson said, walking up to the other guy.

"Yeah? Far out," he said.

The way he dressed and talked, I couldn't help but be reminded of my Captain Jenko. They even looked the same. How was this possible? Jenko died a couple years ago. We all miss him terribly.

"Is he here?"

"Yeah."

From across the chapel, someone called out, "yo, autograph."

The older guy left while Hanson followed him while asking, "could you tell him Patrolman Hanson is here? I don't want him to think I'm late."

"Hey, you ain't late. You like that sound?" They stopped talking to listen to the music that was playing in the background.

"Not really."

"Me neither. Praise God, hallelujah! Maybe I'm sane! Been a deadhead since Woodstock."

"I didn't go, I was only five."

Suddenly, a feminine voice interrupted them. The camera cut to her, she was drinking my favorite soft drink and wearing a jacket almost identical to one I have owned for years. The character was played by (your 80's celebrity look-a-like), who I've been told I look very similar to. She gave the boys a bright smile and she lifted up a Saran-wrapped sandwich in the air and shouted, "hey, ham and cheese sandwich! Who wants it?"

"Oh, gimme!" The character from the beginning clapped his hands and opened them up. He looked like Doug.

The girl tossed the bagged sandwich like a football to the other side of the chapel, going over Hanson's head and the other guy. He caught it and said, "thanks for lunch, Y/n."

"You owe me!"

"Yeah, yeah," he said while taking a bite and walking over to his desk.

Hanson's urgency to meet with Captain Jenko was halted when he saw her. It was like time stopped for him, and all he saw was her. It cut to her making eye contact with Hanson, trying to hide her emerging smile by clearing her throat and getting back to writing on her paper, but not without sneaking another peak at him. It cut back to Hanson, still utterly entranced by her. Then, he snapped back into his mission and said, "look, I really got to check in with Captain Jenko."

"Yeah."

"Yeah, well, where can I find him?" Hanson asked.

"You're looking at him, Hanson. I'm right here. Except on Saturday nights. I play lead guitar with some dudes in my garage band."

My jaw physically dropped. I've seen this before. Except, it wasn't on the television. It was in real life. I've lived through this. I tossed a sandwich over Tom's head on his first day. I remembered exactly what Jenko's said to him, and how we all pretended that Tom wasn't talking to Jenko to keep up with the joke. It took everything ounce of self control that I had to not look at Tom. It was all too similar to our real lives to be a coincidence. Is that how he actually felt when he first met me?

"What the hell is this? Is this fucking show about us?" I asked, sitting up straighter. I was still sitting on the arm of my couch, with Doug right beside me. Tom had made his way over to the other side of me while I was watching the screen.

"You know that kid we hired a year or so ago? The intern? Well, turns out his dad works for this network and they made a TV show about us," Doug stated. "That guy from the beginning is me."

"Is that supposed to be me?" Tom asked as he looked at Johnny Depp on the screen.

"No doubt in my mind," I said.

"It's uncanny how much she looks like you, Y/n," Tom said as he looked at my face then at my celebrity look-a-like on the screen.

"How did you know about this?" Judy asked.

Doug answered, "I was just watchingMarried with Children, then this show came on. Brand new, not even a rerun. They introduced Hanson and I bolted out of my place to get you guys."

"Is this... legal?" I asked. I'm a cop, I should know but things like this were a gray area.

Doug rubbed the back of his neck as he said, "Fuller is having a field day with the lawyers. Think that they might try to get the show shut down, but who knows. They have a lot of material if that rat was spying on us for so long."

"We are not interesting enough to have a TV show made about us," I stated.

"Apparently everyone else thinks we are," Tom chuckled.

"This show is going to out the entire program," Judy pointed out. "We won't be able to go undercover anymore."

"We can only hope that everyone thinks it's fictional," Ioki said.

I kept watching as the two characters walked into Jenko's office and I said, "how did they replicate Jenko's office? That poster of Jimi Hendrix is the same. Even his favorite snacks are in there."

"They captured Jenko's personality perfectly," Doug stated.

"I miss him," Judy said.

Ioki sighed, "yeah, me too."

I crossed my arms in front of my chest and I said, "I feel like my life has been exploited."

"Yeah, me too," Tom said.

"Ridiculous," Judy agreed.

We were all silent for a moment as the program kept playing. After a few minutes, I spoke up again, "this is weird, right?"

"Yeah," Judy agreed.

"Totally," Ioki said.

"Uh-huh," Tom said quietly.

"Yeah," Doug said with his voice trailing off.

We trashed the program at first, but then everyone slowly found a spot in my living room to sit and we decided to finish the first episode together. It was astounding how eerily similar it was to Tom's actual first week at Jump Street. Almost direct quotes were being spoken by the characters, and even the outfits were the same. How did they know?

We collectively agreed that it wasn't so bad. I especially loved the chemistry the show was giving my character and Tom's character. We all decided to start meeting at my apartment for a weekly watch party to watch the show every time a new episode is broadcasted. I can't wait for next week.

Chapter 48: Nightmare on Elm Street: Not Just a Dream

Chapter Text

Narrator's POV
1984

Carrie was driving as quickly as she could to her boyfriends house on Elm Street. It was the middle of the night and his house is on the other side of town, but she couldn't get the sound of his voice on the phone out of her head. She glanced down at the steel blade of her kitchen knife that she brought with her for protection, because Glen was paranoid that there was someone coming to get him at his house.

Glen was sitting in the corner of his room, hugging his knees up to his chest and staring out at the bright moon through his window. He saw shadows dancing in the corner of his eye, which made him jump. His severe lack of sleep and influence from Freddy Krueger had been giving him hallucinations. He thought he was safe within his room, but he quickly found that he wasn't safe anywhere.

Even though he begged his girlfriend to come to his house, Freddy began giving him thoughts that his girlfriend is a witch. Glen's eyes widened when he thought he saw trails of smoke across the sky from a broom. Her broom.

Auditory hallucinations that Glen was experiencing made him hear Carrie's voice casting a spell on him. His breathing halted when he heard heavy footsteps coming up the staircase, getting closer and closer to him which made his heart pound out of his chest. He thought he could hear her thoughts, telling him that she was near.

"She's here... oh my god... she's here," Glen muttered to himself in fear. His eyes were bloodshot red and stinging, begging to close but Glen refused. He was terrified to fall asleep, because he was scared that he wouldn't wake back up.

His bedroom door burst open and Carrie rushed to Glen's aid. His breathing was shaky and his eyes were dark with dark circles under his droopy eyes. Fear casted across his features, for he couldn't help but be influenced by Freddy and assume that she was there to hurt him. He tried to scoot further into the corner, nearly hyperventilating when he saw her.

Carrie dropped to her knees and set the knife down beside her and grabbed Glen's shoulders. She asked worriedly, "hey, hey, babe, what's wrong?"

"Please don't hurt me," he begged.

"I won't. Tell me, who is here?"

Glen stopped shaking and stared right into Carrie's soul, which made chills travel down her back. His lips trembled as he breathed out, "Freddy Krueger."

"Who?" She asked.

Freddy's voice managed to break through to Glen, because he was half asleep. He hissed in his ear, "kill her before she kills you."

Glen's face scrunched and began saying back, "no, no, no, please don't make me do it. I don't want to... I don't want to..."

"She's a witch. She works for the Devil."

"No... no... no... don't make me do it."

"Do what? Glen, you're scaring me," she said and loosened her grip on his shoulders.

Glen locked eyes with Carrie and said, "he wants me to kill you. He wants you dead."

She noticed his eyes dart to the knife on the ground and she quickly grabbed it before Glen could. She stood up and pointed the knife at him, letting the blade shake in her hand from gripping the handle so tightly.

Glen stood up with her and hot tears were streaming out of his dark and dreamy eyes. His voice was breaking while he was imploring her to end his suffering, "Carrie, I just want the voices to stop. They want me to kill you. He wants you dead. Make them stop, please. I'm begging."

Carrie was terrified of what was happening to her boyfriend. He only began mentioning these night terrors just three days earlier, and now he was hallucinating and experiencing extreme insomnia. Their friends from school had been dying left and right, and she was scared that Glen was going to be next.

"Glen, you're okay. You just need to sleep. Freddy isn't real. He's just a dream."

Carrie peered at a mirror behind Glen and could see her reflection. However, it was what was behind her that frightened her. She saw a tall burnt man standing directly behind her, wearing a red and green striped shirt. He lifted his hand up and gave her a small wave with his fingers, showing off a glove with knifes for fingers. He said, "I'm real,Carrie."

Just as Freddy was about to slash his glove down on her, Carrie gasped and jumped as she turned around. The man was gone. He vanished into thin air.

A brief wave of reality brushed over Glen and he took a deep breath. He saw how afraid Carrie was and he asked, "you saw him too? Didn't you? The burnt man?"

Carrie turned to Glen and asked, "that's Freddy?"

Glen nodded. He swallowed and the light of the moon reflected off the tears that were drying on his flushed cheeks. "He won't stop until I'm dead."

"Oh my god. I-I didn't know. I'm so sorry," Carrie said. Her voice tightened as she tried not to cry. She didn't understand how it was possible, but she completely believed him now. Glen stepped up to her while she tossed the knife on the bed and he pulled her into a hug. He let his chin rest on her shoulder, and he held her tightly.

Neither of them knew how this night would end. They couldn't leave, because Freddy would follow them everywhere they went. They could only pray that they would survive the night, but they weren’t safe during the day either.

They pulled apart, and Carrie looked up at Glen adoringly. He was practically falling asleep while standing up, and Carrie knew that he wouldn't last all night staying awake.

She guided him to the bed and let him sit down. His chin dropped to his chest, too tired to lift his heavy head up. Carrie crouched in front of him and put her hands on his knees.

"I'll stay the night. You need to get some sleep—"

"No!" Glen's head shot up. His eyes were bloodshot, but the look of terror was frozen on his face. "That's how he gets you. When he kills you in your dream, you die in real life."

"I know, I believe you," Carrie said comfortingly. She rubbed his knee compassionately.

"If I sleep, he'll kill me."

"I'll be right here the whole time. I promise. I will not let that happen," Carrie promised.

"You promise?"

"I promise. You need to sleep." Carrie stood up and planted her lips on Glen's warm forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too." His eyes fell closed.

"Good night."

This feeling of pure relief washed over Glen, and he instantly slumped over onto his bed. He felt so safe with Carrie there that he immediately fell asleep, so Carrie grabbed his legs and brought them up onto the bed, and rolled him to the middle of his mattress so he couldn't fall off.

She saw how peaceful Glen looked as he slept, and she smiled down at him gently. She grabbed the knife again, and walked to the chair that was pushed to the corner of his room. She carefully took off all the clutter and placed it all on the floor, and she got comfortable in the seat.

She kept the knife on her lap, ready to strike if she saw Freddy again. She watched over Glen the whole night so he could finally get some sleep.

Chapter 49: Secret Window: Double Trouble

Chapter Text

Katie's POV
2004

I wish I got my car serviced before I decided to drive halfway across the country to upstate New York. It had already gotten dark when my car stalled on some random road in the middle of the woods. Even the windshield wipers stopped working, allowing the rain to pound on the glass until I couldn’t see. I tried desperately to start it up again, but it was no use. I took out my keys and began walking. I was already soaking wet by the time I saw a light in the distance.

I followed the light and it led me to a driveway, and I came up to a really nice house in the woods. At least it wasn't some creepy cabin, because I'd definitely get murdered there. I squinted through the heavy rain and noticed a car in the driveway, and assumed that the owners would be home. I hoped they could help me. At the very least let me make a call.

I got up to the front door and knocked. I tried to run my fingers through my wet hair just to get the strands off my face and I shoved my freezing hands in my coat pockets. I tried to press the coat into my body as close as I could. Water was dripping down my face and I could feel them roll down my back. The door opened and I was greeted by a handsome man with a terrified expression on his face, with a paddle in his hand. He quickly lifted it up like he wanted to hit me with it.

I lifted my hands up and took a step back as I said, "woah, I'm sorry."

This expression fleeted and he took a deep breath. "No, I'm sorry," he said and tossed the paddle away. He was wearing a red corduroy jacket. "What do you need?"

"My—um, my car won't start so I was hoping maybe you could give me a jump."

"I don't have tools."

"Oh. Could you call a tow for me?"

"Phone lines are down at the moment," he said. He opened his door more and offered for me to come inside.

"Are you sure? I don't want to cause any trouble for a wife, or a girlfriend..."

He chuckled, "you won't find one of those around here. Come in, please. I’ll grab you a towel."

I walked in, and he shut the door behind me. I looked around and complimented, "nice place."

"Thank you. I'll take your coat," he said. I gave him my coat and he put it on a nearby hook. He opened a closet door and handed me a towel. "You look cold. Want a hot chocolate?"

"Sure.” I smiled. I started drying myself off with the towel, starting with my hair.

"I just made some," he said and I followed him to his kitchen. He had a really nice house, and it wasn't too messy. He didn't exactly look put together himself, but he was a very good looking man. He had long blonde hair, and round glasses, and he looked quite familiar to me. He grabbed a saucepan that was on his stove and grabbed two mugs from the cabinet.

"What brings you to these woods?" He asked.

"Just passing through," I said as he poured two mugs.

"I'm Mort, by the way."

"I'm Katie."

He smiled. “Beautiful name."

I instantly smiled back. "Thanks."

”Whipped cream? Marshmallows?”

That sounded amazing. “Yes, please.”

”The works, you got it,” he said. He grabbed some whipped cream from his fridge and put a dollop into my coco and sprinkled in some marshmallows. “Wanna take this to the couch?"

"Sure," I said.

We walked alongside me as he asked, "what do you do? For work, I mean."

"I just got a job at a publishing company in New York."

"Oh, that's nice."

"It's good for now. What about you?"

"I write. I'm a writer," he said and took a sip of his coco.

"Write anything I would know?" I chuckled.

He chuckled too, "probably not."

"Wait, Mort... I've heard that name before."

He smiled at me closed lipped. "It's pretty common."

"No, not like that. Like, a writer. You're not Mort Rainey, are you?"

He chuckled, "in the flesh."

My face beamed up at him. "That's crazy. You're like, a great writer, man. That one you wrote... oh, what's it called again...Secret Window! That's got to be one of my favorites."

"That's nice.” He smiled sweetly.

"I actually went to a book signing of yours up in New York a few years ago."

His eyes narrowed at me for just a moment before a look of realization spread across his face. "At Newman's Book Shop, right?"

I laughed in disbelief, "you remember?"

"Of course. I remember you fondly. You wore this... uh, yellow raincoat and it wasn't raining."

I laughed and said in my defense, "it was raining that morning!"

I was shocked he remembered something so insignificant from so many years ago. We shared a look that made butterflies flap around in my stomach. Suddenly, his eyes darted to the loft above. He whispered, "did you see that?"

"See what?" I asked, turning around.

He shushed me then took my mug from my hands and placed them both on the coffee table. He walked over to his fireplace and grabbed one of the sticks. He put his arm out just slightly, telling me to stay behind him. We slowly crept up his wooden stairs together, and he glanced at his desk and the workspace area in his study. Then, he used his stick to open a door, and he stepped in and flipped the light on to the bedroom. When he went to open the closet door, something made him turn around and stare at the bathroom.

He whispered, "you hear that?"

"No," I replied honestly.

He kept me behind him protectively and he crept up to the bathroom. He stared into the room and whispered so softly I could barely hear him, "I see him."

He licked his lips and shouted, "I know you're in there, shithead. If you don't come out by the time I count to five, I'm gonna come in swinging."

There was silence.

He wiped his hand against his pants and regripped the fireplace stick. "One... two!"

He lifted the fireplace stick and rushed into the bathroom, swinging instantly at the mirror. The mirror shattered, and Mort looked at it disappointedly. He flipped the light on and said, "I killed a mirror."

In a second, I heard squeaking coming from the bathtub. He instantly swung at the shower door, breaking the plastic. I jumped back, frightened by him. His vibe was just off, but he's one of my favorite authors. He can't be that weird. He looked in and we saw a little mouse in the tub. "And my shower door."

He opened the door and pointed to a nearby towel and asked, "can you hand that to me, please?"

I grabbed the towel and handed it to him. He thanked me, then he wrapped the little guy up and we walked out together. I walked down the stairs, and I heard him behind me. Then, he trotted back up the stairs and then came back down.

"What the hell was that about?" I asked.

"Sorry, I've just had a crazy week. Some guy has been coming, just threatening me left and right. I've just been paranoid."

"Wow, that's horrible, I'm sorry," I said. Now that behavior makes sense. I’d be freaking out too.

"I'm gonna let him outside," he said, still holding the mouse in the towel.

"Okay," I said and sat on his couch.

I heard him mumble something to himself as he walked out the door. I peered out the window, and saw him release the mouse and he lit a cigarette. His mouth was moving, and it looked like he was talking to someone... but I didn't see anyone else. I glanced at his coffee table and as I picked up my mug, I saw an open bottle of Jack Daniels.

I hadn't eaten in a while, so I drank the hot coco very quickly. I went to place it on the coffee table, but I missed and it shattered on the ground.

"Shit," I said. I stood up and tip-toed around the shards, and saw that he was still outside. So, I took it upon myself to look for a broom and clean it up so he didn’t have to. I walked over to his closet and I opened the door, and I froze when I saw a garbage bag on the ground. It was open, and sticking out of it was a bloody screwdriver, and a bloody axe.

My mind was racing as I tried to think of a rational explanation as to why he would be hiding this.

"Find what you're looking for?" I heard. I jumped and put my hand over my heart. I didn't hear Mort come back in. He was standing right beside me with a strange look in his eye.

I pretended like I didn't see it and I said, "uh, no, I'm sorry. Just looking for a broom."

He nodded. “It’s over here."

I quickly closed the door and I followed him into the kitchen where the broom was tucked between the wall and the fridge. I don't think he saw me notice the bag. He offered to clean up the mess I made.

I followed him to the living room and I could smell the cigarette smoke on him. I said to try to change the subject, "those things are gonna kill ya."

"I don't smoke."

"Uh-huh."

He cleaned up the glass and threw it away. Then he turned to me and said, "listen, I'm a little frazzled at the moment and I'm not in the right mind to be driving you anywhere so why don't you just crash here tonight and I'll call for a tow in the morning."

That sounded like the worst idea. I really just wanted to get out of there at that point, but I really didn't have a choice anymore. Something about this whole situation just wasn't sitting right with me. I felt like I was on high alert with the hair on my arms and back of my neck standing straight up.

"Okay, that's fine," I said. I was a little shaky from seeing the bloodied objects in his closet... the blood was still dripping. It was fresh. I didn't see any type of marks on him, so who's blood was it?

I was so nervous, I barely slept through the night. He let me sleep in his bed, because he apparently has been sleeping on the couch anyway. I thought I heard him leave sometime during the night, and he didn't come back until early morning when it was still dark. It's either that or someone got turned around, because I saw the headlights.

The next morning, I was sitting on the couch with Mort, sharing a bag of chips. His hair was in disarray, and he wore a thick striped robe that smelled like it hadn't been washed in forever. He offered me real food, but he stuck with his chips.

"There's coffee in the kitchen if you want it."

"I'll have some soon, thanks."

He stared at his teal rotary phone, and I stared at him. He finally walked over to the wall and plugged the phone in.

I raised my eyebrows and asked, "I thought the phones were out?"

"They were. I accidentally tripped on the cord this morning, I guess,” he grumbled.

Suddenly, the phone rang which made me jump. He sat back down beside me and picked up the receiver. "Is that you, John Wayne?"

I couldn't really hear what the person on the other line was saying. It sounded garbled to me.

"Yes, Amy, I'm here. Just lower your voice a little. What is it?" He sounded annoyed.

I tried not to listen in, but it was difficult. He shook his bag of chips at me, so I took another one.

"I was asleep," he said, "how may I assist you, Amy?" He began batting the air, like a bug was flying in his face. "Come on."

He took a chip and began chewing. As the lady on the phone told him whatever news was so urgent, he froze in mid-chew and asked, "what?"

A few more words were exchanged and he hung up. I curiously asked, "who was that?"

"Amy, my bitch of an ex-wife. Our—I mean, her house burned down last night, I guess."

"Oh, shit that's not good."

He grabbed his sweater and while brushing his hair, he said, "I'll drop you off on the way."

"So you'll drop me off just to come right back here for my car?"

"Well, what do you suggest?"

"Leave me here. Get the tow when you're down there, and I'll still be here by the time you get back."

"You're not gonna steal my shit, are you?"

"Not planning on it."

"Okay. Stay here. If you see a man with a black hat, don't let him in. He's done awful things to people, and he'll do awful things to you," he warned before leaving.

That's reassuring.

As soon as the door shut, I ran back to the closet and I opened the door. Just like the night before, I saw a bloody screwdriver and a bloodied axe. I didn't imagine it. Horrified, I ran upstairs to his study and saw a bundle of papers. I glanced at the writing, and over and over it was four simple words.

SHOOTER SHOOTER SHOOT HER.
SHOOTER SHOOTER SHOOT HER.
SHOOTER SHOOTER SHOOT HER.
SHOOTER SHOOTER SHOOT HER.
SHOOTER SHOOTER SHOOT HER.
SHOOTER SHOOTER SHOOT HER.
SHOOTER SHOOTER SHOOT HER.
SHOOTER SHOOTER SHOOT HER.
SHOOTER SHOOTER SHOOT HER.

My hands were shaking. I dropped the papers, and saw that those words were carved in the wood of his desk.

This wasn't good.

I'm in danger.

I needed to get out of there.

In my panic, I was going to run down the stairs. I stumbled backwards, but when I turned around, I was met with Mort with a sinister look on his face, and a black hat on his head.

"Oh, you scared me. Um, I just remembered that I have a friend on this road. I didn't recognize it in the dark, so I'll just be on my way," I said and tried to step past him.

He stepped in front of me and with a Mississippi southern drawl, he said, "you ain't gettin' outta here, missy."

"What?" I asked. I felt genuinely terrified.

"Mort didn't want me to do nothin' to you, but you know what I've done. Now, you have to go away."

"Mort?" I asked, taking a step back.

"Mort ain't here no more." He took a step closer to me. "It's an awful shame, he liked you. He really liked you."

I looked down at his hand and saw that he was clutching that bloody screwdriver from downstairs. I tried not to look at it for too long so he didn't know that I knew he had it.

"Why are you talking this way?" I asked.

"That's just the way I talk."

"Where is Mort?"

"He's taking a little nap." He smiled at me in a stomach-turning way and he brought his spinning fingers up to his head and he said, "he was feeling a little... crazy... woo-hoo."

I took the opportunity to push past him and run. He pushed me into his desk, making his papers fly everywhere. He scratched at me with his hands, and I managed to slip away. I felt him grip at my foot, so I tumbled down the stairs. He came at me, slowly trudging down the stairs while spinning the screwdriver in his hands.

"Mort, you're scaring me," I said, sitting up and trying to scoot away.

"It don't matter. You won't be scared long."

I scrambled up to my feet and I raced to the front door, trying desperately to open it but it was locked with a key I didn't have. "Shit, shit!"

Before he reached me, I ran to the kitchen to try to get out that way. It was locked too, and it wouldn't unlock. I grabbed the pot of hot coffee and sloshed it onto him.

He screamed and covered his burning eyes with his hands. I tried to take the opportunity to sneak past him, but he blindly reached out and stabbed the screwdriver into me, puncturing my side. I screamed and fell to the floor, and tried to crawl away. My stomach was trembling from the pain. My blood was oozing out of the wound, coating my shirt.

I reached the couch and saw a large shard of broken mug was under the couch. I grabbed it and whipped around, scratching his arm in the process. He looked down at his cut and then back at me with the devil in his eyes. "I'm about done fussing with you."

He grabbed my hair and began dragging me out his back door. I was screaming and kicking, managing to kick over his coffee table which made every book, paper, phone, and mug fly across the room. I gripped his wrists, begging for him to let me go. All the while, he said calmly, "I am so sorry, missus... but right is right and fair is fair...and something has got to be done. By the way, I want you to know that none of this was my idea. It was Mr. Rainey all along."

"You are Mort Rainey," I cried out.

He threw me to the woodland ground, and pressed the screwdriver up to my temple. His other hand had my hair wrapped around his fingers to pull me in close. My heart was pounding hard, and my breathing was deep. In my ear, he said, "your death will be a mystery... even to me."

As he readjusted his grip on the screwdriver, I punched him in the face and managed to knock his hat off. Apparently, that's an avid part in his fantasy of killing me because while he chased after it when it blew in the wind, I was able to press my hand to my wound and race through the woods and down to the street. I was able to lose him and escape.

Mort's POV

After the fiasco of some shithead burning down Amy's house, I went back home. I was actually excited to see Katie again. She is a very beautiful woman, and I was getting inspiration from her. My future muse. She was very kind, and she gave me the feeling of hope and happiness I haven't felt in years. She was the only good thing that's happened to me in this shit year.

I walked into the house and said loudly for Katie to hear me, "sorry I am so late. That tow truck is on its way, but if you need a place to stay you are more than welcome to stay the night again if you need. Did anyone call while I was gone?"

I closed and locked the door and saw that Katie was gone. I frowned, and saw that she trashed my study, my coffee table was tipped over, papers and books were everywhere, and there was coffee all over the kitchen floor. Bitch probably stole some of my shit too. Just my luck.

I sighed, "now I gotta deal with this shit now?"

Chapter 50: Alice in Wonderland: When Tomorrow Starts Without Me

Chapter Text

Minnie' s POV

I wasn't ready to go.

I still had so much more to do, with no more time. I was terribly sick with an illness that eventually took over my body. I knew my time had come when my last breath escaped my lips.

There is only one man who deserved my love, and that was Tarrant Hightopp. Everyone calls him Hatter. An innocent man, who didn't deserve this kind of devastating loss. The loss of a loved one. Is it selfish that I'm glad I died first so I never had to spend a day without him?

My soul floated down to Hatter, where I saw his bruised fingers holding my dead hand so tightly. A tear spilled from his big green eyes, and trickled down his hollow cheek. There was so much I wanted to tell him. Now, I'll never have the chance.

I sat beside him, and glanced at the bed where my dead body laid completely still. He had surrounded my body with lovely flowers, which was enough to bring a tear to my eye. Now, I felt alive and free from the prison of my aching muscles and cramping lungs. I put my hand over his, even though he couldn't feel me.

"We were waiting for you. You were awfully late, you know... naughty," his voice quivered. "Your tea was getting far too cold. But... you never came. I'll make sure it nice and hot for you when you come back. You can count on it."

I hoped that if I spoke, his heart would be able to hear me. I said to him in a gentle voice, "Hatter, I'm not coming back. When tomorrow starts with me, and I am not here to see if the sun should rise and find your eyes, all filled with tears for me. There is a better place somewhere out there, and that's where I'm going. I do wish you wouldn't cry. Please don't cry."

Hatter's lips trembled as he said to me in a shaky voice, "you know, Minnie, I'm going to miss you terribly. I-I-I feel... empty."

He wasn't looking at me. He was looking at my body. The mound of flesh and bone that no longer held my soul, or my spirit. I was here with him, even if he didn't know it.

"Oh, Hatter. I wish you wouldn't cry the way you did today," I said with a hoarse voice. I was thinking of the many things we did not get to say to each other before my untimely death. He was a man who held half of my heart, a gift I shall let him keep until we meet again.

Almost as if he could hear me, he said, "I don't like this feeling that I have. My eyes are leaking in a way they've never done before. I don't know how to make it stop. I thought we had forever."

"I know how much you love me, as much as I love you. There will be times on your journey through life where all you see is darkness, but I will be sure to bring the light to you so you keep believing. It will be all right, you'll see. Trust me. I'll always be here, watching over you. I will miss you, Hatter. And each time that you think of me, I know you will miss me too," I said. I looked down and sniffed, feeling my tears trickle down to the tip of my nose before I looked back up at him.

"We will keep your spot at the table empty in case you return. What am I going to do without you?" He tried to smile, but his lips turned down into a frown and he let out a silent sob. He looked down at our hands, and I felt him grip tighter. "I'm—I'm not—I'm not ready to let you go. I'm afraid."

I released one of my hands and brought it up to his cheek. I wiped a tear away with my thumb against his skin and said to him, "when tomorrow starts without me, please try to understand that an angel came and called my name, and took me by the hand. The angel said my place was ready, in heaven far above, but I would have to leave behind all those I dearly love. But when I walked through Heaven's Gate, I felt so much at home when God looked down and smiled at me from his golden throne. He said this is eternity, and all I promised you, today for life in Underland is done, but here it starts a new. I promise no tomorrow, for today will always last, and since each day's the exact same way, there is no longing for the past."

"In the garden of memory... in the palace of dreams... that is where you and I shall meet," he said, as he always did when we had to say goodbye to each other. He brought his lips down to my hand, kissing me for the last time.

"So when tomorrow starts without me, please do not think we're apart. For every time you think of me, remember I'm right here in your heart. Just look up to the sky, and say goodbye."

"I love you, my precious Minnie."

"I love you, Hatter."

I finished my final visit by giving Hatter a gentle kiss upon his warm cheek. He seemed to perk up just slightly, and when I smiled at him, tears rolled down my cheeks. I hoped he knew that I was there, saying my final goodbyes. I sniffed again, releasing Hatter from my hold for the last time.

I looked up at the sky, and I was ready to go home. Eternity is where I will wait, until Hatter can join me once again.

Chapter 51: 21 Jump Street: When A Stranger Calls

Chapter Text

Heather’s POV
October 25, 1988

I've babysat for the Johnson's a hundred times before. It was how I made money when I was in high school, and still now that I’m in college. I knew the house and the kids like the back of my hand. They trusted me, and I trusted them immensely. I loved those kids dearly, and I would have killed for them.

I sat on the couch of the Johnson's house, with one of my favorite books in my hands. I fed the kids dinner, and I even let them have a piece of chocolate cake before bed. I finally tucked them in upstairs, and now I just have to be quiet until the Johnson's come home. It was already dark but I still had a few more hours of duty left.

I had the radio playing softly just so there was some sort of noise. I was invested in my book until the phone began ringing. I yawned as I reached over to answer it. I wasn't quiet sure who it was, so I greeted the caller by saying, "Johnson residence."

The person on the other end didn't say anything. At first, I thought we had a bad connection so I asked, "hello?"

Again, nothing. It wasn't until I started focusing that I started to hear breathing. Then, they hung up.

I pulled the receiver away from my face and looked at it. I blew air out from between my lips and I rolled my eyes. "Whatever."

As soon as I hung the phone up, it began to ring again. I furrowed my eyebrows together and answered, "hello?"

Same thing. Just breathing. I knew it was probably just a prank call, but it was annoying and a little creepy.

"Stop calling. God," I grumbled and hung up on whoever it was. I brushed it off as nothing. I glanced at the front door, just to double check that the door was still locked.

My eyes darted from the words on the page to the phone, until I figured that the phone wouldn't ring again so I went back to my book. After a few minutes, the phone rang again. My arms twitched at the sudden noise, and my eyes slowly gravitated to the phone base.

I let it ring a couple of times, but I didn't want to ignore it and let the phone go to voicemail, because Mr. or Mrs. Johnson might call. So, I answered. "Johnson residence."

This time a strange male voice talked back, "sorry, I've been trying to call but it keeps dropping. It's windy."

"Oh, yeah," I said, looking outside and seeing the trees and the dead leaves that blew in the rainy wind. I would not have guessed that it was windy enough to interfere with phone calls though.

"Is Mr. and Mrs. Johnson there?" He asked in a quiet voice. I didn't recognize his voice.

I know it's not good to say that I'm home alone and that there are no adults with me but does the rule work if I'm an adult myself? He must know the Johnson's if he's asking, so I asked, "they’re busy at the moment, can I take a message?”

"Then maybe you can help me. I'm looking for a recommendation for a movie to watch tonight. I'm thinking about the one with the babysitter, have you seen it?"

"Maybe," I chuckled and closed my book, remembering what page I was on. "Is it a scary movie?"

"Yes. It ends with the blood of her and the kids smeared all over the walls."

I scrunched my face. That's not something I wanted to hear. Who says that? "Creepy. I haven't seen it."

"What's your name?" He asked.

"Why do you want to know my name?" I asked as I turned the radio off.

"Because I want to know who I'm looking at."

My blood ran cold. I sat up straight and my breathing halted in my throat. "What?"

"I wanna know who I'm talking to," he corrected.

"That's not what you said," I said shakily. I immediately hung up, and jumped when the phone started to ring again. I never want to hear the shrill of an old rotary telephone for the rest of my life. Frustrated, I slammed my open book down on the couch beside me and picked up the phone.

Before I could say anything to him, his words sent a chill down my spine. "Have you checked the children?"

I looked at the stairs and immediately dropped the phone. It clamored to the hardwood floor and I bolted up the stairs so fast, I was skipping steps. I burst the door open, and I scanned the bedroom.

The two younger kids share a room, and they didn't even stir when I opened the door. They had their dark comforters tucked up to their necks, and they were still sleeping soundly. I didn't turn the light on in the dark room because I didn't want to wake them. I let out my breath, and slowly backed out and shut the door gently. I turned to go to the bedroom across the hall, where the older kid had his own room. I carefully opened the door, and he was still asleep too, tucked in tightly.

I backed up and shut the door quietly. I couldn't believe I let a prank caller freak me out so much, that has never happened to me before.

All the kids were fine, but I couldn't get the voice out of my head. I headed back downstairs and grabbed the phone. I noticed my closed book on the coffee table and eyed it wearily. I brushed it off as me being paranoid and I dialed the non-emergency number for the cops, and waited for them to answer.

Tom's POV

Captain Fuller caught me as I tried to sneak out of the chapel after my shift and convinced me to take over the non-emergency line over at Headquarters until midnight. They were understaffed tonight, and I was guilted into accepting instead of going home to my comfortable apartment, despite my long day.

As soon as I sat down, the phone rang. I leaned back in my wheelie chair and answered, "Metropolis Police Department, this is Officer Hanson."

A young sounding woman was on the other line. "Hey... this is going to sound so stupid but I keep getting these phone calls and they're really freaking me out."

"Phone calls?" I asked.

"Yeah. There is just something about it that is getting under my skin. I think like I'm being watched."

"They're probably just prank calls. Just don't worry about it. It's probably some jerk trying to get to you," I told her.

"Okay, but he won't stop and I'm babysitting and it's just really freaking me out."

"Has the caller threatened you in any way?"

"No, not really."

"Then there really isn't anything that we can do," I told her honestly.

"He basically told me he was watching me, and he knows I'm babysitting because he asked me to check up on the kids."

"Are you sure it's not the father?" I asked, tossing a peanut from my trail mix into my mouth.

"I'm certain. It's not his voice," she said.

Just out of curiosity, I asked, "did you check on the kids?"

"Y-yeah, I did just now. They're fine."

"Okay, okay. I'll contact the phone company and we can try to trace the call. Just try to keep him on the line for sixty seconds."

"He never stays on for more than a few seconds." She almost sounded like she was on the verge of tears.

"You have to try, okay?"

"Okay, I will."

"What's your name?"

"Heather Madison."

I grabbed a pen and quickly wrote her name down on a slip of paper. “And what's your number?"

"555-2368."

I could hear the fear in her voice. She sounded about my age, old enough to know the difference between what's real and fake. I could tell that she was truly scared of this caller, so I tried to set her mind at ease by saying, "okay, Heather. Go around and make sure all the doors and windows are locked. Close all the shades and the blinds, and try to keep the lights off. We will get to the bottom of this."

“Thank you, Officer Hanson,” she said.

When we both hung up, and I called out, "yo!"

"What's up?" The officer in the cubicle next to me asked.

"Can you help me get a tracker going?" I asked. Since I'm not at Headquarters very often, I have little idea how any of the technology works.

"Sure. Why?" He asked while coming up beside me to fiddle with the computer.

I passed him the paper slip with the phone number on it and said, "some girl is getting prank phone calls all night so I told her it was probably nothing but we would figure out who was calling. Apparently, he's saying some creepy stuff that's freaking her out."

He froze and asked, "what kind of creepy stuff?"

"I dunno, something about checking the children."

"Is she a babysitter?" He asked.

I frowned in my confusion and said, "yeah, actually. How did you know?"

He began frantically tapping away on the computer and he said, "it could be a prank or a copycat, but if it's who I think it is... it may be too late."

Heather 's POV

I sat back on the couch after my call with the officer, staring at the phone. I had grabbed a knife from the kitchen which I had balancing on my lap. The officers words kept replaying in my ears, and I focused on them to calm myself down. I liked the sound of his voice. I tried to distract myself from my anxiety by thinking about what he looked like. He sounded like he could be my age, and his voice was deep and smooth. He must be cute. I was picturing a tall, brunette with dreamy brown eyes.

No matter what I tried to do, my mind kept going back to the caller. I could feel my heartbeat in my palms, and my leg was bouncing up and down uncontrollably. I just wanted this night to be over so I could go home and forget all about it. Tomorrow morning I'll be laughing at how scared I was over nothing.

I jumped when the phone rang again. Goosebumps prickled my arms. This time, when I answered, I didn't say anything. All I heard was breathing. I knew it was him.

"What the hell do you want?" I finally asked.

"Your blood, all over me," he said chillingly.

I wished I could have hung up. I was terrified, and my hand was shaking. I couldn't let him hang up so I tried to be disinterested to his nasty comments. "Gross."

"The kids were fine, but it's you that I want."

My eyes slowly looked at the stairs where I had a good view of the bedroom doors on the second floor. They were still closed, and I would have heard if the door latched so I knew that no one had entered or left since I checked on them.

"Are you trying to scare me?"

He was silent for a moment before he answered, "no."

"Then why are you doing this? Why can't you just leave me alone?" I asked. He didn't say anything back and I was afraid that he was going to hang up. I continued the conversation by asking, "who are you?"

He was silent, but I could hear him breathing heavily.

"I want to know who I am talking to," I said.

"Heather, why would I tell you my name?"

All the blood drained from my face. "I never told you my name."

"How were the children?"

I clenched my jaw and sniffed hard. My lips were twitching uncontrollably. He must be watching me. I slowly turned to face the windows, but it was too dark to see out. I reached over and turned the living room light off, just in case he could see me.

"Can you turn the light back on?"

I really hoped he could hear me flick the light switch through the phone, because I had to fight the urge to bolt up the stairs and wake the children and get out of that house. I went back to his previous question, and my voice was tight as I said, "they were just fine."

All I heard on the other end was a sinister chuckle, then he hung up. The dial tone sent goosebumps down my back, and I slammed the receiver down. I prayed that he was on the phone long enough. I should have been timing it.

Suddenly, the phone rang again. I screamed in fright and shoved my hands to my mouth so I didn't wake the kids. I lunged to the phone and brought it up to my ear.

I was pissed. In my anger I shouted through clenched teeth, "look, asshole, stop calling me, you sick, twisted, motherfucking—"

Officer Hanson's voice stopped me. "Heather, we've traced the call. It's coming from inside the house! Get out of the house, get out of the house!"

Oh my God.

The phone slipped from my fingers, and I turned to face the stairs. I needed to get the kids. I bolted up there as fast as I could, and I burst through the bedroom door and turned the light on. My heart was pounding out of my chest, and I rushed to their beds to wake up and take them down to my car.

Tom's POV

As soon as my call with Heather dropped, I joined one of the other officers to race down to the house. I immediately called for back up, because I had no idea what we were going to walk into. Another officer at Headquarters was in charge of trying to get in contact with the house owners, since Heather was just a babysitter.

We pulled up to the driveway, and I could tell that she had yet to leave the house. A little black car was still in the driveway, and we didn't pass anyone on the road. I pulled out my gun and shot the lock before I kicked down the front door. We couldn't waste any time.

"Police!" I shouted as I entered the dark house.

I scanned the living room, and then I heard wailing coming from the top floor. I heard her voice so I put my gun away and raced up there. Before I knew it, she ran right into me. She wrapped her arms around me and sobbed into my chest.

My heart was beating through my uniform and against her head. I put my hands against her back and pulled her to the wall so we were out of the way of my coworkers so they could assess the bedroom she ran out of.

"You're safe. You're safe now," I told her calmly. She was shaking under my arms, so I continued to comfort her by running my hand through her light brown hair. I glanced up and could see the bedroom, and all I needed to see was the dark red blood that stained the walls.

When she finally seemed to calm down a bit, I pulled back and had her look up at me. Her dark brown eyes were bloodshot, and her face was completely flushed with hot tears streaming down her cheeks. I had one hand wrapped around her back and the other held her hand and I gently walked her down the stairs so we could sit on the couch together.

More and more cops flooded the house, and Heather was not in any condition to leave yet so I made her face away from the stairs as we talked. We talked all about the calls, and I wrote down everything she told me about the night. From the time the parents left, to the last time she saw the children alive. This poor, beautiful woman just had the worst night imaginable.

As she talked, I glanced up and saw three black body bags getting carried down the stairs and out of the house. I cleared my throat and continued distracting Heather so she didn't see. I later found out that all three of the Johnson children had been dead for hours. Their throats had been cut as they slept. When Heather checked on them right before she called me, they were all already dead.

The entire house was searched, and there was no one else there. This wasn't the first time he has done this either, but he usually doesn't leave the babysitter alive as a witness. To this day, we are still actively searching for the Babysitter Killer.

Heather 's POV
October 25, 1995

It's been seven years.

It's been seven years since the cold case of the Johnson Children Murders, and that dreadful night has haunted me every single day.

It took years for me to recover from the traumatic events of that fateful night. I had tremendous survivors guilt for so long, because I had convinced myself that it was all my fault. If only I had checked on the children earlier, they would have lived. If I figured out that the caller was coming from inside the house, I would have been able to save them. I still couldn't believe that I was blissfully reading a book while their lives were taken away by a monster in the most vicious way possible, just a few feet away. How did I not get some sick feeling that something was wrong? How did I not know?

I don't think I would have been able to recover from that night if it wasn't for one man, Tom Hanson. He was the officer who helped me through the night, and long after. He assured me that it wasn't my fault, and it didn't take long for our friendship to grow. We were married just a year later, and we have two beautiful children. He is the love of my life, and I will forever be grateful for how much he helped me through that terrible tragedy.

It took me a couple of years to get a babysitter, because of what happened. Tom finally talked me into it, and after the first time leaving them alone, it was much easier. Tom has always been the voice of reason in our relationship, because I'm often the paranoid one. He is my biggest support system and my rock. I love and appreciate him more than he will ever know.

It was the anniversary, so Tom suggested that we go out for dinner just to calm my nerves and to distract me from the fact that the Babysitter Killer was never caught. We've done this every year, so it's become routine. We always end the night by sharing a piece of chocolate cake to celebrate the lives of the Johnson children, and let them know that they are in our thoughts forever and always.

The night was going very well. We had our lovely and trusted babysitter at home with our three and five year old, and we were about ready to head home. Tom and I were finishing our cake, and I couldn't stop looking at him in complete admiration. I love this man with my entire being. I can honestly say that I have no idea where I would be without him.

The waiter came up to our table and said, "Mr. and Mrs. Hanson, there is someone on the phone for you."

I looked at Tom with confusion and patted the napkin to my lips. He shared the expression, because our babysitter, Jill, had never called us while we are out. My heart began racing, but I told myself that I was being anxious for nothing. I was trying not to let that man control my life, but it was tremendously difficult.

Tom followed me and the waiter to the front where he handed us the telephone. I put the phone to my ear, and Tom was hovering on the other side.

"Mrs. Hanson," I said, trying not to let my voice get shaky. I could feel Tom fiddling with the ends of my hair to comfort me.

In the chilling voice I have only heard in my nightmares for the past seven years asked, "have you checked the children?"

My blood ran cold and my heart dropped to my feet. My stomach was twisting into knots that almost made me throw up. The dial tone filled my ears and I let the phone slip from my fingers. I brought my hands up to my mouth, trembling from the fear.

"Who was that?" Tom asked.

"It-it's the same man! It's him! It's him! He has our babies!" I cried out.

"It's okay, it's okay," Tom said and pulled me into a hug. He rubbed my back while I cried into his chest. He tried to calm me down but I was anything but calm. My stomach was flipping, and my head was spinning. A million thoughts were running through my head. He must know we have children of our own. How did he know we were here? If he knows that we are here, he must know we have a babysitter. That must mean he knows where we live.

My choked up breathing stopped and I sniffed and said, "oh my god. The children."

I twisted out of Tom's arms and quickly grabbed the receiver again with my clammy hands. I dialed our home phone as quickly as I could. I was breathing hard like I just ran a marathon until Jill's voice answered, "hello?"

I was already a little relieved to hear her voice. She sounded calm, but I wasn't going to be satisfied until I knew my kids were safe. "Jill, when was the last time you checked my children?"

"They went to sleep about fifteen minutes ago."

"Please, check them. Please," I begged. Behind me, I could hear Tom asking a staff member that if the restaurant had another phone, they needed to call the police.

"Is everything all right, Mrs. Hanson?"

"Dammit, Jill, just check!"

"Okay, I'll be right back," she said.

The phone got quiet after it sounded like she set the phone down on the counter. Tom's hands were on my shoulders to try to console me, and I gnawed on my thumb nail as I waited for Jill to come back to the phone.

The silence was softly replaced with heavy breathing, a sound I hear almost every time I close my eyes, and whenever I try to sleep. I will be haunted by that sound for the rest of my life. I froze, and goosebumps prickled up my arms and down my back. Finally, the voice I was terrified to hear chilled me to my core. "She checked the children."

"If you lay a single hand on any of them, I swear to fucking God I will—" he hung up before I could finish my threat.

I dropped the phone again and turned to Tom. My face morphed and twisted in a way to try to get myself not to cry, but my voice broke when I said, "he's in the house. Oh my god, he's in the house."

"The cops are already on their way," he said.

We rushed out of the restaurant and I'm not even sure if we paid. I didn't care. All I could think about was Jill, and my children.

It was the longest drive of my life, but Tom kept talking to me in an attempt to calm me down but I knew that he was just as scared as I was. We both have lived through this before seven years ago. We never thought we would be reliving this nightmare. Images of the Johnson children's throats cut resurfaced in my brain. Their sheets and mattresses were completely soaked in blood, and flashes of seeing their blood stains the bedroom walls made me gag. No parent should ever experience that. My worst fear was coming true. Tom rubbed my back until we got home.

The cops were already there when we got there. The flashing lights blinded the neighborhood as our neighbors were quietly tip-toeing out to their front lawn in their robes to see what was happening. One of Tom's partners and best friend, Doug, was working tonight and I saw him standing on the sidewalk with his uniform on. When he turned around to face us, I saw that he had one hand on each shoulder of my groggy looking children.

"Oh my god!" I shouted and raced to them so fast, I had to kick off my heels and the pavement broke through my tights. I fell to my knees and wrapped them both in my arms tightly. They were okay. They were safe. I had never felt so relieved in my life. I pressed my lips to their temples, and they were rubbing their tired eyes as if they were just waking up.

"Thank God," Tom said as he bent down to join the family hug. I cried in relief and nestled my face into his neck. We all held each other for a moment before Tom stood up and walked over to Doug.

As I was checking my kids for any injuries, I overheard Doug say, "we caught the prowler, he was under TJ's bed. He didn't harm the kids. We have him in that cruiser over there."

I glanced at the cruiser that was parked in our driveway, and I saw a dark shadow cast over a man in the backseat. I closed my eyes, because I never want to see that man's face. I was afraid that if I did, he would be all I could see every time I closed my eyes for the rest of my life.

"How's Jill?" Tom asked.

Doug fell silent.

"God," Tom muttered and ran his fingers through his thick dark hair and scratched the back of his head.

"We believe that she heard him enter the house because we found the kids in the downstairs closet with pillows and blankets stuffed in the sheets of their beds. She protected them until the end," Doug stated.

A tear spring onto my cheek, and I hugged my kids even tighter. My heart ached for her, because she did not deserve a brutal death. She was so young, incredibly kind, and a valued member of our family. And the fact that she died protecting my children made me sob.

Tom joined us in a hug once again, and he kissed my hot cheek. I was beyond thankful that my kids were safe, and the prowler was finally caught. I don't think I'll let my kids out of my sight again any time soon.

Chapter 52: 21 Jump Street: Tea Party '13

Chapter Text

April 2013

Tom's POV

There is a serial killer who has been around since the 60's. I've done my extensive research, and I have found that the last family was killed in a mansion on the East coast. I packed my family up and we moved into the house immediately. It was a steal, and my wife was on board with it as long as we didn't tell the kids.

I'm going to catch this guy if it's the last thing I do.

He targets families and kidnaps the youngest. His last victims were the Oswalts. Ellison, Tracy, and Trevor were all killed in the living room. The youngest, Ashley, was kidnapped—just like the others.

Christine is my beautiful, dedicated, and supportive wife. She has known about my love for crime ever since our first date, and she has wholehearted supported me ever since I began this quest to seek justice for the families, and find those missing kids.

The house was empty for one year before we moved in. People are superstitious, which is crazy. I don't believe in the paranormal or anything extraterrestrial in those regards. It's silly. But, one thing I found very interesting is every family that was murdered used to live in the house that another family was murdered in. For example, the Oswalts moved into the house that a family was found all hanging in their backyard, then they moved to a mansion on the east coast where they were then murdered. That pattern has extended all the way back to the 1960's.

Christine and I have three kids. The oldest is seventeen, Jason, then we have a thirteen-year-old boy, Peter, and the youngest is five-year-old Melissa. She's a darling. She loves to put tea parties on for the family. All of my children are beautiful. Spitting images of my breathtaking wife.

The house was so massive and beautiful, it almost made me forget that they had to literally wipe the blood off of the walls. The entire family was murdered by an axe in the living room, and the murderer wiped their blood along the walls and hallways of the entire ground floor of the home. I've seen pictures, and they are horrific. I didn't tell my wife about that part though. She thinks the family was killed in the backyard.

I was beginning to put away one of our kitchen boxes when I looked out the window. I noticed Christine talking to a squeamish man in our driveway. He held a red can of gasoline in his hand, and I brought my eyebrows together as I tried to figure out what they were saying.

Christine talked to him for a bit before he jumped into his car and sped off. She walked back to the house with a strange look on her face.

When she came back in, I asked, "who's that?"

She shrugged, "he's a deputy or something. He asked if we moved in, and if it was official."

"What did you say to Deputy So & So?" I asked as I put the plates away in the cupboard.

"I said yes. He was acting weird... he ran back to his car and didn't say a word."

"Huh, strange. I'll keep an eye out," I promised and gave her a kiss.

I had a box of old Christmas decorations in my hands that I decided to put it up in the attic. I pulled the ladder down, as as soon as I got to the top I saw an old box. I presume it belonged to the old owners of the house, the Oswalts.

I didn't hesitate to walk over to it, and I set my own box down and opened theirs. Maybe whatever is inside will give me a clue as to what happened to them. I want to know why they were targeted, and maybe I’ll be able to find a pattern and be able to catch the killer.

I opened the lid of the old cardboard box and saw an old Super 8 video camera, as well as different reels of, what I assume to be, home movies.Pool Party '66; BBQ '79; Lawn Work '86; Sleepy Time '98; Piano Practice '04, Family Hanging Out '11; and House Painting '12.

With newfound motivation to help my family unload the rest of the moving truck, I raced down and brought as many boxes as I needed into the attic. Once everything was done, I excused myself and headed back up there. I set up a sturdy box to use as a chair, and used more boxes to prop up the projector to the video camera. I pointed it towards a blank wall, and let the film roll.

I decided to watch the filmPool Partyfirst, since it was the oldest. There was nothing that could have prepared me for what was on that tape.

I'm a cop. I've seen a lot of terrible things, but this may be the worst. I closed my eyes and I could still see the image of every member of the family strapped to lawn chairs and getting pulled into their pool and weighed down. I watched an entire family drown. I quickly replaced the reel with another,Lawn Work, which made me watch some unseen person drive a lawn mower over the family where their blood stained the grass red. The next reel,Piano Practice,began with a happy family gathered around the piano, playing and singing together happily. Then, it cut to an unseen person using piano wire to saw the heads off of every family member, except the youngest. The next reel I watched,Family Hanging Out, showed the family with burlap sacks over their heads, getting hung by their necks on a tree in their backyard.

I quickly realized that these were films of the murders I've been investigating for years. The last film,House Painting, showed the murderer with an axe, chopping the limbs off of the family except their little girl, Ashley. It was so horrific and grotesque, I had to cover my mouth so I wouldn't puke.

Where is she?

She's been missing for over a year now. We have a slim chance of finding her alive, but we have no other proof that she's dead. I'm going to assume that she is alive until I'm proven otherwise.

I finally turned off the projector and gave myself a moment to settle my stomach before I headed downstairs to pour myself a drink. That was heavy, and I was going to need some outside help to process what I just witnessed.

Christine was sitting at the table with the kids. There was a giant white pizza box in the middle, with cheesy pizza on their plates. She looked up at me and her beautiful brown eyes beamed up at me. "Tom, how's it going?"

"Uh, good," I lied. I didn't want to freak her or the kids out. I looked around the room, and could imagine where they had to wipe the blood off the walls. It twisted and turned my stomach into knots. This was going to haunt me forever.

"We didn't feel like cooking so we got a pizza," my oldest, Jason said with his mouth full.

"Wanna piece, daddy?" My youngest, Melissa, asked.

"No, not right now, sweetie. Thanks though," I said.

I walked over to the kitchen but stopped myself. I really didn't want my kids to see me drinking again. Christine almost left me when I turned to the drink last time. This job is so stressful, I can't help it. But, drinking is not worth losing the love of my life and my children.

"You okay, Dad?" Peter asked.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," I waved him off and leaned against the counter. Just being near my family almost made me forget about horror of the videos.

"Do you guys get a weird vibe in this house?" Jason asked. He poured himself some more soda and guzzled it down.

"What do you mean?" Christine asked.

"Like, I don't know... like you're being watched?" He said, "I hear weird things."

"It's a big house. And it's old. It settles and the wind makes weird noises too. We're just not used to that. Don't worry," Christine explained.

"I guess that's true," he said but didn't sound too sure.

"Can Ashley have some pizza?" Melissa asked.

My breath caught in my throat. How did she know that name? It must be a coincidence.

Christine chuckled softly. "Who's Ashley?"

"She's my new friend. She was in my room earlier. She said it used to be hers," Melissa stated.

"What do you mean?" Christine asked. She gingerly grabbed Melissa's hand, and had a look of concern on her face.

"She used to live here. She's who everyone has been looking for. She said that she loves to paint. She liked painting the house with her daddy, but now she's sad."

Christine froze and her eyes gravitated towards me. I had no idea where she found that out, but it certainly wasn't from me.

"Why is she sad?" Peter asked as he grabbed another slice of pizza from the box.

"Because she said that her mommy and daddy went away," Melissa answered. I did not like hearing that answer.

"She's probably just an imaginary friend," Christine said. Her eyes on me told me that she knew who it really was, and she was not happy. My response was grabbing a slice of pizza so I didn't have to talk.

"No, she's real," Melissa said.

"Eat your pizza," Christine said firmly.

Once all the kids had gone to bed, I wasn't looking forward to being alone with Christine. As soon as she closed our bedroom door, she turned to me and asked in a hushed voice, "who the hell is Ashley?"

I sighed and said, "the family that was killed here had a daughter, Ashley, who disappeared. Technically, she's missing."

"And how does Melissa know who she is?" Christine asked. She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows, waiting for my answer.

"I don't know. I really don't know. I haven't even unpacked my files for this case, so unless she learned how to read and she read them before we moved... I don't know how she knows. I've never talked about it around her."

Christine put her face in her hands and sighed. She looked back up at me and asked, "what did Melissa mean that she painted the house with her dad?"

I was silent for a moment, but Christine quickly said flatly, "answer the question, Tom."

I stammered before I finally told her the complete truth. I sat down on the bed and looked up at Christine as I began. "So, you know that the family was murdered here, right?"

"Right. They were killed on the property but like, in the backyard."

"They were murdered here."

"Yeah."

"Christine."

"Oh." A look of realization of waved across her face. Her hands covered her mouth but her eyes were full of terror. "Oh my god. They were killed in the house?"

I sighed and nodded.

"You told me it was in the backyard!" She nearly yelled but stopped herself so the kids wouldn't be able to hear.

"I didn't want to scare you, I'm sorry," I replied calmly.

She took a moment to compose herself before she sniffed and said, "okay. What happened? You have to tell me if we are going to be living here. Tell me everything. Show me where."

I suddenly remembered one of the titles of the videos upstairs in the attic.House Painting '12.

"I found these videos upstairs that have clips of the murders," I told her.

"I want to see."

"No, you don't."

"I do."

"You really don't."

"Show me, now."

Christine is stubborn, and she was never going to let this go. I know better than to forbid her from seeing them, because she was going to one way or another. It was better that she watched them with me than by herself.

I took her up to the attic, and prepared the video. I saw her glance down at the reels, and I asked her to grab me the one from 2012. The tapes were on Super 8 films, which I haven't seen in ages.

I put it in the projector, and began playing it.

The clip showed a recording of a happy family in the living room. They were putting their things away, dancing and listening to music while the youngest was painting on a little easel in the corner. I immediately recognized her as Ashley. I pointed her out. Then, the video cut to the camera being held by the murderer. The family was in the dark, with the fireplace on in front of them, laying on tarps in the living room. They were barely moving when the cameraman walked up to each one, and bringing an axe down on their limbs. One by one, he severed every leg, arm, and head.

Toxicology reports from the autopsies showed that they were all drugged with something not in our system. In fact, every murdered family had trace amounts of this strange drug. We are still trying to figure out what it is.

Christine's hands covered her mouth and tears slipped from her eyes. She was practically shaking as she watched this terrifying video. I really didn't want to see her like this. The reel ended and I turned the projector off. She sat in silence for a minute, processing the horrific events that occurred in our home. Her voice finally croaked out, "we need to leave. Now."

"Yeah," I said and turned off the projector. I did not need any further convincing. She was right. This was too dark, even for me. I didn't realize just how gruesome this case really was. It was no wonder everyone felt uneasy being in this house. "Let's get the kids. We have to go."

It was the middle of the night, but we woke up all the kids and packed as much as we could and we stayed at a motel that night. The next morning, we called a moving company and we bought the first house we could get our hands on. Anywhere that wasn't that house.

As soon as we moved into our new home, I finally felt the dark pressure of that house lift off my shoulders. Christine was much happier, and the kids felt safer. We were getting our life back together.

Melissa invited everyone to join her for a tea party. Since I handed my intense case to one of my coworkers, I had more time to spend with my family. And a tea party put on by my young daughter was definitely on my to-do list.

I sat with my entire family around the tiny table that we got for Melissa. We were all sipping our tea, and I suddenly began feeling really tired and queasy. I yawned and tried to hide my mouth, but my muscles ached too much. I didn't have the energy to move my arms at all. I noticed the rest of my family looked tired too, and that got concerning.

Melissa glanced at all of us, just as my vision was going in and out. I squeezed my eyes shut and pried them open, but my vision was getting hazy, like I was trying to look through fog. I heard my tea cup crash to the table, but I kept my grip firm on the handle. I leaned back in my little chair, and my head dropped to my chest despite my significant attempt to keep my head up. I felt drunk. I looked at my cup, and saw a strange green glowing substance in my tea.

"Dad, I don't feel good," Jason said to me with a slur in his voice.

"Neither do I," Peter agreed.

"What's happening?" Christine asked.

I looked to Melissa, barely able to keep my eyes open. I slipped off the little chair and fell to the floor, with my family soon following. Everyone but Melissa.

I saw her little smirk, which frightened me, then my vision faded to black.

I'm not sure how long I was out, but my eyes finally opened and I was in my living room. I didn't have control over my muscles yet, so I couldn't do anything except blink and breathe.

I could hear Christine yelling, but her voice was muffled. I finally got the strength to roll over and let my head flop in her direction. My entire family was laying on the floor of our living room, unable to move.

Little Melissa came up to us. In one hand, she held the Super 8 film from the last house. In the other, was a sledge hammer.

"Oh my god," I managed to whisper.

The bright light from the video camera made me squint, but I was able to see that she was readjusting her grip on the wooden handle of the sludge hammer.

Christine continued screaming and crying as Melissa walked up to Peter, who was still passed out from being drugged by the tea. I was not coherent enough to say or do anything. Melissa lifted up the hammer, and quickly brought it down on his head, bashing his brains in and killing him instantly. The sound of her smashing his skull and the sledge hammer hitting our wooden floor echoed in my mind in the most horrific way. Shards of his skull pierced into his mushy brain. My eyes grew wide, and my breath left my lungs.

"No! No, my baby!" Christine cried out as she wiggled around on the floor. "What are you doing?!"

"Bughuul can't hear me over your yelling, Mommy," Melissa said in her devilishly innocent voice.

"Let us go!" Christine begged, but Melissa didn't listen. She lifted up the bloody hammer, and brought it down on Jason without any hesitation. I was in complete shock, and a cold sweat chilled my back. I felt a tear trickle down my temple, and I kept shaking my dizzy head in an attempt to get the drugs out of my system. I had to be strong for Christine, but watching my two sons get murdered by my daughter was making it extremely difficult. Fear was taking over, and I had no idea what to do.

"Melissa! What are you doing?!" I coughed out. I was still drugged, and I felt utterly helpless that I couldn't do anything to save my family.

I suddenly realized that there was something supernatural at play. My little girl would never do this. She must be possessed. I finally believed in the paranormal, but it was too late. Was this what was happening to all the other families? Are the missing children the murderers?

"I'm sorry, Mommy," she said and I had to watch helplessly as she bashed the brains in of my wife. Christine's screams were silenced after the thud and cracking of her skull. Thick dark blood gushed around her head, and I saw her broken teeth slipping out and her brains splattered the ground. She was right beside me, and I cried out to her. Her warm blood pooled around us, soaking into my sleeve. My lips trembled as I sobbed out her name.

Then, Melissa came up to me. My brain was completely awake, but I still couldn't move.

"Melissa, baby, please stop," I begged. Fear was coursing through my veins. I had never been so scared in my entire life.

"I can't, Daddy."

"Think about what you're doing, sweetheart. I love you, please put it down."

Melissa stared at me with daggers in her eyes. I didn't see my daughter when I looked into them. She brought the hammer up, and I watched it come down at me in slow motion while I screamed out for my life.

My pain was brief, and then I only saw darkness.

Chapter 53: Jack and Jill: The Lakers Game

Chapter Text

Kyria’s POV
2011

I used to be so close to my Uncle Jack until he moved to California. During Thanksgiving break at my university, my parents decided to send me on a solo trip to visit him and his family. I was so excited to go, because I've never been to that side of the country before.

Jack took me and my aunt Jill to a Lakers game because his commercial company needed him to talk to Al Pacino, and he was going to be at the game. I love my Aunt Jill, but she's so strange. Just a very very weird person in general, but she means well. Jack and Jill are twins but they look exactly the same. Like, freaky identical.

Jack went to get food, while Jill went to the restroom which left me to find our seats alone. I was clearly on the wrong side of the court, but I saw two people I immediately recognized as Johnny Depp and Al Pacino. I decided to go over there to say hi first before I went to find my seat.

I acted like I knew what I was doing, so I didn't get kicked out or anything. I walked down to where Johnny and Al were sitting, and my facial muscles turned into a smile that I couldn't force down.

"Hey, I'm sorry to bother you guys but I just wanted to say that I'm such a big fan," I said when I got to them.

Al looked like he was in some sort of disguise. He wore a fake black scraggly beard, and a purple baseball cap on top of his head. After looking me up and down, he peered over at Johnny and said, "I think it's for you."

"Both—both of you," I said. Mostly for Johnny but Al is too iconic to ignore. I didn't want to be rude either.

"You recognize me?" Al asked. He sounded quite shocked, as if he hasn't been a movie star for the past forty years.

"Yeah. Was I not supposed to?" I asked with uncertainty in my voice.

Johnny wore a Justin Bieber shirt under a blue plaid open button up with a thin scarf and a gray hat. Not exactly an outfit I would have pictured him wearing. He laughed, "I was just asking him the same thing."

"I'm doing research, I didn't want to be recognized," Al said in a low voice.

Just then, the big screen showed Johnny and Al and me, and Johnny waved as the crowd broke out into cheers. Al's face was so funny and completely deadpan as the camera slowly zoomed in on him, flashing his name across the screen. I cannot explain how difficult it was for me to not burst out laughing at the incident.

"That didn't really work, did it?" I asked sarcastically. My lungs immediately froze because I felt like I disrespected a legend.

Al gave me the side eye, but a small smile perked his lips that told me that he was joking and he appreciated my humor. This let me relax just a bit.

Johnny held a small bucket of popcorn in his hands and he looked up at me and asked, "wanna watch the game with us?"

"My uncle should be coming back soon. I don't want to intrude."

"Nonsense. Here," he said, offering me the seat beside him.

I took it, and started watching the game with them. I crossed my legs and let my foot bounce up and down anxiously. I could not believe I was sitting next to Johnny Depp at a Lakers game. I just know my face was blushing uncontrollably. Johnny shook his bucket of popcorn at me and asked, "want some?"

"Oh, yes please. I haven't had a chance to eat all day," I said while I took a handful of his buttery popcorn.

Johnny's eyes bugged. "All day?!"

"My uncle wanted us to wait until the game. He was getting us food though," I said and gracefully shoved all the popcorn into my mouth, very careful about not letting any pieces fall. This was a bad idea, but I was committed to it.

"Have as much as you want," Johnny offered. He handed me the container and let me chow down.

We turned our attention to the game again, and he occasionally reached to my lap to grab some popcorn but he never took the container back. Then, I noticed him lean towards Al and he asked, "what do you think people are thinking here, that I'm sitting with my rabbi?"

We watched a few basket tosses before I heard Jack's voice say, "Kyria."

I turned to see him and Jill were standing right beside Al's seat. He said, "I saw you on the Big Screen. I thought we were gonna meet at the seats."

"I'm sorry, I saw Johnny and—"

"Sorry, man, it was my fault. I made her stay," Johnny interrupted.

"How you doing, Johnny?" Jack asked. Does he know him? "How are you? Huge fan."

"Good to see you. Thank you.” Johnny smiled and shook his hand.

"And, uh, Mr. Pacino, I actually met you one time at a movie premiere," Jack said.

Al was just sipping his soda, bluntly ignoring Jack.

Johnny and I watched him for a few moments. After waiting a beat, Johnny looked up at Jack and explained, "he's thirsty."

"Okay... It wasCats & Dogs 3, and we were sitting in the same row. One of your kids knocked over your popcorn, and I gave you mine. And you called me ‘Popcorn’the rest of the night."

"Popcorn." Al pointed up at him in realization.

"Yes."

"Yeah, nice to see you again."

"Hey, what's with the beard? You look a little like Bin Laden," Jack joked.

"I was kind of thinking Castro, myself," Johnny laughed.

"Yeah," Jack agreed and laughed along.

"No, no, it's like the cough drops guy, the Smith Brothers," Jill jumped in. She was holding a giant stick of pink Cotton Candy that was larger than her head.

"Who is that? Is that your wife?" Al asked, looking over at Jill.

Johnny took a casual sip of his soda.

"No, no, no, that's my sister Jill. She's in from the Bronx. Hey, Al, do you think you'd ever..."

"Dulcinea," Al said under his breath.

"What's that?" Jill asked, leaning closer.

"You're from the Bronx?" Al asked, ignoring Jack and standing up to talk to Jill.

"Yeah, born and bred. Throggs Neck, the nice part," Jill said. She did not sound interested in him in the slightest. Like I said before, she's crazy.

"Al, I got a question for you, and I know it's a long shot..." Jack tried to ask.

"Well, I'm from the Bronx.," Al said to Jill excitedly. Again, completely ignoring Jack. Johnny and I were just sitting back, eating popcorn, watching this strange interaction develop.

"Oh, okay," Jill said uninterestedly.

"Did you know that?" Al asked with a beaming smile on his face.

"Yeah, to be honest, I don't know much about you. I haven't seen a lot of your movies, but I hear you're very serious."

I cleared my throat to stop myself from laughing, which made Johnny look over at me. I put my elbow on my arm rest and put my hand over my mouth to stop myself from making any noise at all, but I felt my cheeks get hot.

"Well, you know..." Al chuckled.

"Okay." She did not care.

Johnny leaned toward me and asked, "that's not your mom, is it?"

"No, no, no," I immediately said. "That's my aunt."

"By marriage or by blood?"

"Blood."

"Are you joking?"

"I wish I wasn't," I chuckled and he laughed quietly too. Again, I love Jill, but she's just very strange. Love her to death though.

"Hey, is Ryan Seacrest here? Have you seen him? Do you know him?" Jill asked Al.

"I'm sorry, who-crest?" Al asked.

"Al, would you ever consider doing a..." Jack tried again but was interrupted by Jill.

"Eh, who is your friend? Was he in Duran Duran?" She turned her question toward Johnny, "were you in Duran Duran?"

"Yes. Yes, I... was," Johnny nodded vigorously, with a tone that didn't sound sincere. His voice trailed off by the end of his sentence.

I leaned to him and asked, "were you really?"

He eyed me and shook his head no. Then he chuckled and took some more popcorn. I tried to give the container back to him, but he insisted that I kept it.

"So, tell me, how long are you gonna be in L.A.?" Al asked.

I swear, Jill has the attention span of a goldfish. She ignored him and noticed something behind us. "Oh, my God. Is that John Stamos?"

"Who?" Al asked while turning around to see what she was looking at.

I turned back too, but all I saw was a crowd. My eyes scanned for John Stamos, but to no avail.

"Pagogo, Pagogo, let's go before he gets away! I want to see him up close! Please!" Jill said, grabbing Jack's hand and running off with him.

"Oh, so, Al, I'm gonna get a hold of your agent, if that's cool," Jack said as he and Jill ran off.

"Shoot," I said, slowly standing up. I looked down at Johnny and said, "sorry, my ride's leaving. It was really nice to meet you guys."

"You too, Kyria. Hopefully I'll catch you at the next Lakers game," Johnny said with a smile.

"Here, can you give this to Jill?" Al asked, handing me a card with his number.

I took the card and gazed at the number he wrote on it. I smiled at him and nodded, but as I was leaving I heard him catching the attention of one of the employees to send Jill a hot dog with his number written on it in mustard.

I squeezed through the crowd and followed Jack and Jill up the bleachers. I was still blushing uncontrollably at the fact that I just met and shared popcorn with Johnny Depp. Is this what it's like living in California? I'll have to visit much more often.

Chapter 54: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory: Newspaper Ad

Chapter Text

Crystal's POV

My pimp put an ad in the paper for my services, and I got a response right away. I was given explicit instructions on how to enter the residence without detection, which gave me the impression that my client probably had a wife and didn't want me, a prostitute, to be noticed by neighbors.

I used their directions to find myself parking beside a massive factory. Rumor has it that this factory is 5,000 times larger than any other factory in the world. It's massive, and the most famous chocolate factory in the entire world. It is the home to an amazing chocolatier, Willy Wonka.

"No fucking way," I said to myself. I stepped out of my car and threw my oversized pink jacket on over my clothes. Under it, I wore a short blue skirt that was connected to a white sleeveless crop top. I walked up to the back gate, while my tattered knee-high leather boots were clacking against the pavement with every step I took. I put in the secret code I was given, and I was able to sneak into the back of the factory.

I walked in, and the air was dense and hot. I felt like I was in a tropical climate, I almost felt sticky. My eyes widened as I glanced around, walking down the red carpet that laid through the modernized hallway. I let my jacket slip off my shoulders, and the hot air hit my clammy skin.

"Crystal?" I heard a soft, yet high male's voice ask. That's my work name that I give to my clients.

I turned to the source of the noise and saw the iconic man himself. He was a tall, slender man but wore thick chunky heels, a long plum velvet overcoat that went down to his knees, and a black top hat on top of his head. He wore a black shirt with a W-shaped pin, and a gold chain could be seen against his dark clothes. It's probably for a pocket watch. He held a cane that appeared to be full of multi-colored Nerds Candy, and he wore black gloves on his hands. He had a funny coconut-head haircut, and perfect porcelain skin.

"Yes, are you Mr. Wonka?" I asked. I had never seen him in person before. I don't think anyone has for years.

"Oh, yes I am. I shake you warmly by the hand," he said and held out his hand. I eyed his hand for a moment before I shook it, and then he started walking down the hallway quickly.

"Good morning, starshine," I said in a chipper voice.

Willy paused and asked, "is that what people are saying now-a-days?"

That seemed like an odd question but I answered with a little lie to mess around with him. "Only if you end it with,the earth says hello!"

"Good to know..." I heard him say it to himself a few more times while I followed him down the hallway. It was as if he was trying to memorize it.

"It is my great pleasure to welcome you to my humble factory." He continued to walk down the hallway, barely looking back to see if I was keeping up. He was in a rush to get started. "Come quickly! Far too much to see."

I had to trot to keep up with him. When I was by his side, in my most sultry voice, I asked, "is that candy in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

"It's a Wonkabar."

"Oh?" That's a new term for it.

"Have you ever had one?" He asked and he actually pulled a chocolate bar out of his pocket.

My confusion was settled when he handed it to me. I saw that it was a chocolate bar that his brand had named a Wonkabar. I shook my head no.

His eyes bulged and he almost seemed offended. He said, "try it."

We stopped walking so I could rip the wrapper off the chocolate. He chomped at the air a couple of times awkwardly right before I took a bite. He waited impatiently for my reaction, so I smiled and nodded. "Delicious."

"You're darn tootin' it's delicious. Now, we mustn't dilly, or dally, because we have an enormous number of things to do before the day's out. But luckily for us, we have the Great Glass Elevator to speed things—"

Wonka walked straight into the clear wall of the elevator by accident and he snapped his head back and fell to the ground. My eyes widened and watched him fall. There was an awkward pause between us as he picked himself up again and he awkwardly finished, "—speed things along."

"This elevator is made of glass," I commented as I inspected it. I had never been in a glass elevator before. I slipped my coat back on just so I didn't accidentally drop it.

"Come on, let's boogie," he said as I slowly walked in. "The elevator is by far the most efficient way to get around the factory. There's far too much time and so little to do! Scratch that, reverse it."

"There are so many floors," I commented as I looked at all the buttons in the elevator. There must have been hundreds of them. Each button had a different name beside it. Just a few wereSalt and Peppermints,Phantom Smells, Peanut-Butter Paint, andHoneycombs and Brushes.

"This isn't just an ordinary up and down elevator, by the way. It can go sideways, slantways, longways, and any other ways you can think of. You just push any button, and whoosh, you're off!" He giggled and pressed a button in the elevator, and we were hurdled through the factory. I had to catch my footing from how quickly we took off. The clear glass elevator made it so we could clearly see out, and we passed a snow-covered mountain inside the factory. His employees were chipping fudge rocks off of the mountain. Willy happily exclaimed, "welcome to Fudge Mountain."

We passed more rooms, each more beautiful than the last. One that was very impressive is what he called theChocolate Room. Candy grass, lollipops and peppermint trees, bushes of gummy bears, and creamy mushroom caps filled the room. There was a massive chocolate waterfall in it, and he gave me some backstory to it.

"Every drop of the river is hot melted chocolate of the finest quality. The waterfall is most important. It churns the chocolate, mixes it up. By the way, no other factory in the world mixes its chocolate by waterfall, my dear. You can take that to the bank!"

"That whole room is amazing," I admired. I couldn't believe I had such an opportunity to witness this. People who attempt to break into his chocolate factory just to take a peak at his genius has faced decades of jail time. I felt incredibly lucky.

"And every bit of it is edible."

"Even the grass?" I asked.

"Even the grass. Even the mud, it’s made of fudge. Everything in this room is eatable. Even I am eatable, but that, my dear, is called cannibalism. It is in fact frowned upon in most societies. Yeah."

I took my eyes off the room and looked over at Willy. I asked, "do you make all types of candy?"

"Pretty much. Yeah."

"What about cereal?" I asked.

"Like, breakfast cereal?" His face twisted into disgust.

"Yeah."

"Do you have any idea what breakfast cereal is made of? It's those little curly wooden shavings you find in pencil sharpeners," he grimaced. "It's just disgusting."

The elevator halted in a room where I didn't see any candy being made. It wasn't even a room, it was a massive hallway with multiple windows high up by the tall ceiling. The walls were gray, and the light from the windows reflected on the shiny floor that wasn't covered by a red carpet. On the center of the carpet was a dark velvet couch with gold trimmings. Near the couch was a long table, and on the end was a plate covered by a metal lid. Boring room, but a beautiful couch.

To myself, I mumbled, "it's beautiful."

"What?" Willy asked once the door opened and we stepped out.

"Oh, I was just saying that your factory is beautiful," I said.

"Thanks, I know. But you really shouldn't mumble because I can't understand a word you're saying."

"Okay, I'm sorry," I sighed.

I watched Willy walk out of the elevator and just the way he talked and presented himself, it was easy to tell that he has been living in solitude for far too long. No one ever goes into his factory, and no one ever comes out. He must have been alone for many years, secluded from society for so long.

I softly sat down on the velvet couch and let my coat slip off my shoulders. Willy watched me with big, nervous eyes and his eyebrows came down slightly. He was a little weird, but very handsome so this session shouldn't be that difficult.

I smiled at him softly and said, "you'll look absolutely better once I get that wrapper off of you."

The look in Willy's eyes turned distant, as if he was spacing out in a regressive state. He snapped back into our conversation and he said, "that's a great idea. Get rid of the wrapper so everyone can see the delicious chocolate instead."

"That's not what I meant," I said and leaned back against the couch.

Willy whipped out a notepad from his coat and he jotted something down in scribbles before putting it back into his hidden pocket. He turned around and got busy fussing with a plate that was waiting for us. I saw him lift off the lid and he asked over his shoulder, "want some hard candy?"

Finally! I can get to work. I might have to charge him extra for being so dog-gone strange.

"I'd love to suck on your hard candy," I said.

He turned around to face me with a giant jawbreaker between his gloved fingers. There was a smile across his face as he handed it to me and he said, "here."

"Oh..." I said disappointedly, grabbing the candy from him. He was actually talking about candy... Is this some sort of strange role-play he is into?

He stopped to look at me, which made me pause. He slowly bent down a bit to get to my eye level and he moved closer to my face. He stared deep into my eyes which really weirded me out, and he didn't even blink. He even took a breath while I nervously licked the jawbreaker he gave me just so I wasn't just staring back at him. Eventually he took a step back and he said, "your brown eyes are really... pretty. Quite a... smooth texture. Like chocolate."

"You're so sweet, you could put Hersheys out of business," I said. He was weird, but I still had a job to do.

"That's the idea."

He was really making this impossible. I figured he was just nervous and needed me to start us up. I tried to hand him the jawbreaker back but he grimaced and flexed his hand out of the way.

"That's an everlasting gobstopper. You can suck on it all year, and it'll never get any smaller. Isn't that neat?" He giggled.

"I think I'd rather get some white chocolate that tastes like you.” I smiled at him flirtatiously.

"No, I wouldn't allow it,” he said with a deadpan expression, and my smile immediately faltered. "The taste would be terrible! Can you imagine Willy-flavored, chocolate-coated Wonka? Ew. No one would buy it."

"Sorry I asked," I mumbled and leaned back to the couch. I popped the jawbreaker—sorry, everlasting gobstopper, into my mouth so at least my tongue would get some action tonight.

"Once again, you shouldn't mumble, 'cause it's kinda starting to bum me out." Then he asked, "how does it taste?"

"Good." I shrugged. "What's the flavor?"

"That one, I believe, is cherry."

"Since it's supposed to last all year, why don't you have the outer layer be one flavor, the middle layer be another, and the third be another," I suggested.

"Like cherry, orange, and watermelon? Lemon, grape, and cherry?" He whipped out his pocketbook again and began jotting it down.

"Yeah. Sure. Whatever," I said and continued to suck on the candy.

He put the notebook away and said, "okay. Let's get into the nitty-gritty. Are you ready?"

I thought he would never ask. While his back was turned, I stripped off my clothes until I was only in my lingerie of a bright cherry red bra and matching panties. I laid down across the couch and said, "I'm always ready for something sweet."

He turned around with a bright smile, holding bars of white and red swirled chocolate in his hands. His smile dropped and he looked at me with big eyes. "Where did your clothes go?"

His eyes darted around the room before he locked eyes with me again and an awkward smile pulled the side of his lips. Still, he just offered me the chocolate. What is his problem?

I looked down at his offering, but I just couldn't handle it anymore. I held up my finger and said, "you know what? I'm done. You're done. Keep your money. This is too weird, even for me."

"Oh, poppycock," he groaned and put the chocolates back where he had grabbed them in the first place.

I grabbed my clothes and put them on quickly. I slipped on my coat and stomped to the nearby elevator. Willy followed me and the doors closed behind us.

"Get me out of here," I ordered.

"We should keep truckin. You haven't tried my newest creation of fudge."

I was about to respond, but then my jaw dropped. I realized that this man had literally only hired me to try his candy. He had no alternative motive here. I don't think we were ever on the same page at all during this entire visit. Does he understand that I am literally a prostitute?

"I really don't want to."

Willy flashed me a smile with slightly squinted eyes that made him appear high. He giggled and said, "you're really weird."

"I'm weird?!" I asked. I was quite offended. Has he met himself?! I looked up at the buttons and saw one labeled "up and out". That must get me out of here.

I clicked it, and the elevator shook and started ascending up slowly. The elevator picked up speed and we started getting faster and faster.

Willy halted his breath and he said, "I've been wanting to press that button for years."

"Why?" I asked. Was that the wrong button?

Willy looked up and he ignored me to say, "faster, faster, if we don't get enough speed we will never break through!"

"Break through what?" I asked. I looked up and realized that we were traveling up really fast, going faster and faster but apparently not fast enough.

"Here we go! Up and out!" Willy looked excited, in a mad way. I was frightened.

"Do you really mean?"

"Yeah, I do," he said excitedly in a high pitched voice, trying to hide his laughter. Lights were flashing around us rapidly as we were gaining a tremendous amount of speed.

"But it's made of glass! We will be shattered in a million pieces!" I shouted.

"Ahhaaaaa," Willy laughed excitedly, with a terrifying look in his eyes that told me that he wasn't sure what was going to happen, but he was excited. He tilted his head up and looked at the glass ceiling that we were headed straight towards.

I panicked and I quickly clicked a random button. The elevator stopped so suddenly, it made me and Willy fall to the floor, just seconds before it would have crashed through the ceiling of the factory. It descended at an alarming rate before traveling sideways to the room I ordered.

We found ourselves in a large white room, where Willy commented about how he has been working on an invention that would teleport candy right to your television. For some reason, he wanted my thoughts on it.

"I don't care. I really don't care, man, just get me out of here."

His smile dropped and he said, "fine, you party pooper."

He clicked another button and we wizzed off to the next room. This time, we found ourselves in the room we started in. I saw the back door I used to sneak into the factory, and the elevator dinged when the doors opened.

I stepped out and turned to Willy. I said, "I demand payment."

Willy sighed and opened up his coat. He grabbed a few Wonka bars and tried to hand it to me but I stopped him. "No. I need cash."

"You don't like chocolate?" He asked. He is so used to paying his Oompa Loompa's in chocolate, he must have forgotten that people on the outside prefer money.

"I do like chocolate, but I'm not going to be all weird because of it."

Willy pouted and finally gave me the money I rightfully earned. I slipped it in my coat and walked away.

While I was walking, I overheard Willy start to talk to someone. I turned back and noticed him striking up a conversation with one of the people I saw working on Fudge Mountain.

"... no, she won't be joining us. She doesn't like chocolate as much as we do. No, she will never be Mrs. Wonka. Maybe I need to bring in some youngsters... like children. Say, that's a good idea. Yeah! Five lucky children will be invited into my factory. I need to start planning... good morning, starshine, the earth says hello! I need to write that down... I need cue cards..."

I opened the door and ran out to my car. I peeled off that property so fast, my tires burned. I never want to go back there again. I'll probably have nightmares.

Chapter 55: 21 Jump Street: The Basement

Chapter Text

Narrator's POV
1989

It's been eight long years since Josie Reynolds disappeared.

At the mere age of 15, most thought that she ran away to join a cult, which included her family. Some thought that she was abducted by aliens. A few assumed she was murdered with her body dumped in the nearby woods, eaten away by wildlife. No one thought they would ever find out what happened to her.

Little did they know, Josie was living in an underground bunker, sheltered away from the entire world. She was hidden from the outside world, where her only visitor was her father. Not even her mother, who lived right above her, knew she was down there.

The bunker was a few hundred square feet big, and she won privileges over the years, such as a television, a hot plate, and a refrigerator. For eight years, this was her home. She had no idea what she did to deserve to be kidnapped and imprisoned in such a savage way, but she was determined to get out.

Josie laid on her mattress that was placed in the corner of her small room, with a thin blanket covering her. She was extremely malnourished and spent her days cleaning her tiny living space, making herself food, and watching the tiny television that played tapes brought to her by her father, who forced her to call him by his first name.

She has tried desperately to escape for years. Her father designed the bunker to be soundproof, and he changed the code to get into the room every day. If she ever did figure it out, there's another hidden door with another code she would have to break, followed by padlocks where he is the only one with the key.

One day, Tom Hanson was sitting at his desk at the Jump Street chapel. He finished one of his many successful missions, and decided to open up the cold case files.

The Jump Street precinct didn't exist in 1981, but they obtained all the cold case files of minors when they were established. He thumbed through the names, until he hit Josie Reynolds.

He pulled out her file, and the first page was a August 1981 newspaper clipping of her initial disappearance, with her yearbook photo from the year prior attached to it. Tom sighed, looking into her shimmering eyes and knew that she had no idea what terrible situation was in store for her.

Tom recalled this terrible crime, because it was all over the news for months. A beautiful teenage girl who suddenly disappeared under mysterious circumstances. Tom looked into her green eyes, and knew that he had to find her. Her eyes were pleading. Tom decided to open the case back up, and figure out what happened to her to give some closure to her, and her family. She deserved to Rest In Peace.

He gathered his notes and decided to interview the family again to see if he could find any new information. He knocked on the door, and Mr. Reynolds opened it.

"Good afternoon, my name is Officer Hanson. May I have a word with you and your wife about your daughter?" Tom asked, showing him his badge.

The rain was pouring outside, seeping into Tom's clothes. Mr. Reynolds's eyes bugged at the sight of Tom's badge and before he could send him away, his wife noticed Tom and offered him to come inside for some hot tea.

Tom smiled and nodded, and was able to step into the home. He noticed Mr. Reynolds giving him an eerie side-eye, which made Tom uncomfortable. He walked into the living room and sat down on the couch while Mr. Reynolds took a seat in his chair and Mrs. Reynolds handed everyone a fresh cup of warm lemon tea.

Tom thanked her and went on with the interview, "can you tell me again when you last saw Josie?" Tom asked, preparing his pen.

"It was August. August 12, 1981. I remember," Mrs. Reynolds said.

"Yes, it was," Mr. Reynolds agreed. Then he said, "we weren't told that her case was opening back up."

"It's not, but I was looking through it and noticed some discrepancies so I wanted to just clear things up,” Tom explained.

"So, you have no new information on Josie?" Mrs. Reynolds asked.

Tom shook his head. “No. I'm sorry, ma'am."

"That's all right. We will do anything we can to help you guys. We just want answers," she said and held her husbands stiff hand.

"Did she have any prior expressions about running away?" Tom asked, getting back on track.

"Yes, she did," Mr. Reynolds said.

Mrs. Reynolds looked at him strangely. "No, she didn't. She was as happy as a clam."

"Oh, yes, you're right."

Tom wrote down his responses, but found his answers to be strange. He decided not to question it, or let Mr. Reynolds know he thought it was peculiar.

"Listen, Officer, we appreciate your time but we would like this to be put to rest. It's been eight years, and my family can't move on if cops keep coming back. Do us a favor and just drop it. We just want her to be at peace," Mr. Reynolds said. He wouldn't let his wife get a word in before he escorted Tom out of the house.

When Tom got back to the precinct, he looked over his notes and the notes made by the officers in the original case. He found that Mr. Reynolds didn't stick to the story he told investigators back in 1981. He was changing his story, which was a giant red flag for Tom, as well as the fact that he wanted the case closed. Most parents will never stop looking for their missing children until the day they die. He felt a pull in his heart, telling him that Mr. Reynolds knew more than what he was letting on.

Meanwhile, in the basement, Josie was pacing the room, trying to think of another way out of there. It's been the only thing on her mind since the day she was trapped in there. She heard a faint dripping noise, which she thought was coming from the sink that was in the room. She walked over to it and fiddled with the handle, before realizing that the drip was coming from the ceiling.

Since it was raining so much, the rain leaked through a vent and softened the ceiling of her prison. Josie immediately ran to her bed and jumped on top of it. She tapped the soft ceiling with her finger, and felt it move under her fingertips. She stuck her finger through the softened ceiling, and was able to create a hole. Her eyes lit up with a glimmer of hope for the first time in eight years.

Tom had informed Captain Fuller about his suspicions, and Fuller authorized Tom to request a warrant to search the house. It was immediately granted.

He put his uniform on and led the other officers to the house with the warrant tucked in his jacket. They arrived to the house in silence, because they didn't want to spook the Reynolds'. The rain had let up, but the sun was already down. A white light caught his eye, coming from a vent that blinked against the house.

Tom's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion as he trudged through the wet grass. He squatted down beside the opening and saw the light blinking through the vent.

Josie was screaming off the top of her lungs, but no one could hear her. She had a flashlight pointed up through the hole and was frantically turning it on and off in hopes that someone would notice her distressing signal for help. She prayed that her dad was not the one to see it.

Tom looked up with an expression of realization. His heart dropped to his feet and his lungs opened with a gasp. He looked up at the officers that surrounded him with eyes as big as saucers. He gasped, "she's in the basement."

There wasn't a moment to waste. Everyone rushed to the house, with Tom drawing his gun. He ran up to the front door and kicked the door down. Everyone flooded into the Reynolds home with their guns up.

"Where is she?!" Tom shouted angrily when he found Mr. Reynolds standing up from his old recliner with his hands up in defense. "Where is Josie?!"

"Josie?!" Mrs. Reynolds asked, also standing up with her hands raised. She looked to her husband, unsure of what was happening.

"We know she's here, Mr. Reynolds," Tom said through his gritted teeth. He was fuming with rage.

"She's not here," Mrs. Reynolds nearly sobbed.

The other officers restrained Mr. Reynolds who wasn't fighting back. They handcuffed his hands behind his back, and Mrs. Reynolds's hands covered her mouth when she saw the look of defeat on her husbands face.

"Ma'am, where is your basement?" Tom asked.

"That door there with the lock." Mrs. Reynolds pointed at their old basement door that was sealed with a padlock.

"Mrs. Reynolds, when was the last time you've been down there?" Tom asked her.

"I'm not allowed down there. That's his man-cave," she said slowly, and a look of realization planted on her face. Her eyes filled with tears as she muttered, "oh my god."

"Hanson, we need a key," one of the other officers said, standing by the padlocked door.

Tom saw the key ring on Mr. Reynolds jean loop, and snatched it. He grunted, and watched Tom with narrow eyes as he walked to the door and unlocked it. The team stampeded down the steps, and searched the room until they found the hidden door behind the bookcase.

The officers figured out how to shut off the electric circuit to the keypad, unlocking the door. Using the confiscated key ring, they used the keys to unlock the remaining padlocks on the doors. They were slowly inching closer and closer to Josie.

Josie was still standing on top of her mattress, shining the flashlight through the little opening. Tears were streaming down her face as she was begging any higher power that would listen to make someone see her signal for help. She was determined to get out of there. And she needed to get out of there tonight.

"I'm down here! Someone,pleaselook! Just look!!" She screamed. She had no idea that Tom had seen her light and was coming to her rescue.

Suddenly, the batteries in the flashlight began to die and the light grew dim before burning out.

"Come on, come on," she begged, slapping the flashlight against her palm but the light completely died. She screamed and chucked the flashlight across the room in anger. She hoped that someone saw her cry for help, and someone was coming to get her. She began to cry, and she screamed again in frustration, so loud it hurt her throat.

She heard the door unlock, which made her freeze. She whipped her head to the door, and squatted down to her mattress to pretend like she was just waking up to cover up the fact that she was trying to escape, again. She naturally assumed it was her father, and she prayed that he wasn't the one who saw her cry for help. She glanced up at the massive hole in the ceiling, and knew that he would know anyway.

So instead, she rushed to her little corner of kitchen items and grabbed the only item that could do some serious damage to her capturer: the hot plate.

She grabbed the hot plate and rushed to the side of the door. She repositioned her hands on the metal, and lifted it up over her head so she could bring it down on him when he walked inside. She was weak from malnutrition, but this was her only hope of getting out of that room alive. It was now or never.

The door opened, and her heart was pounding. Josie quickly thrusted her arms down, gripping onto the hot plate as hard as she could.

The man who walked in was Tom Hanson. Luckily, he's been trained in attacks so he was able to catch her attack quickly. He jumped out of the way, and didn't pull out his gun on her.

"It's okay! It's okay! You're safe," Tom said, lifting his arms up to show that he didn't have anything. When he lifted his hands up, his shirt came up a bit to show his badge attached to his hip.

Josie's eyes were wide and her jaw trembled when she realized she was looking at someone other than her nasty father. The hot plate slipped out of her hands and her knees grew weak. Tom stepped to her before she fell to the ground, wrapping his arms around her and pressed her into his chest to comfort her. He could feel her shaking under his arms.

"Is there anyone else here?" He asked as the other officers entered the room with flashlights, looking at all corners of the tiny room.

Her head shook no, and her hands were trembling as she held the fabric of Tom's coat in his hands to ensure that he was real and not a hallucination. A smile spread across her face, and she finally felt happy for the first time in eight years.

"Clear," one of the officers stated.

"Did you see my light?" She asked in a hoarse voice.

"I did."

"Thank god," she said, breathing out a sigh of relief.

"Let's get you to the EMT," Tom said quietly. He helped Josie stand on her feet, and helped guide her upstairs.

Josie had never been happier in her whole life. The house was reflecting the sirens of red and blue as more cops and ambulances rushed to the house. The media had yet to find out about Josie being found, and Tom hoped they wouldn't find out for a while to give Josie some privacy for this terrible situation. Her case was so high profile, that when it gets out, it will be a media circus anywhere she goes.

Tom was handed a blanket, which he put over Josie's frail shoulders. They slowly walked through the house that Josie grew up in, living just beneath it for years.

Mrs. Reynolds was talking to one of the cops to take a statement. Her fingernails were between her teeth, and tears stained her cheeks. Her head shot up when she saw her daughter being escorted outside by a cop, and her voice dropped. She left the cop who was taking her statement and she rushed to her daughter. She took one look and they were both overcome with emotion.

"Oh, sweetheart," Mrs. Reynolds cried out. She pulled Josie into a hug and sobbed, "I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I didn't know."

"I know. It's okay," Josie said, hugging her mother back just as tightly.

Tom heartwarmingly watched them get reacquainted, then kept walking with her to the EMT while Mrs. Reynolds was finishing her statement.

Once Josie was sitting on the stretcher in the ambulance, Tom began to leave. He did not want to crowd her and make her feel uncomfortable.

"Where are you going?" Josie asked worriedly.

Tom pointed behind him and said, "I was just—"

"Please, stay with me," Josie asked.

She held her hand up to him, which Tom took. He sat right beside her through it all, while holding her hand. He told her about how they arrested her father, and that he was going to be in prison for the rest of his life.

It was difficult for Josie to hear, but after the pure torture that she endured, she felt like it was justified. He ruined her life, and he deserved to rot in that jail cell. She looked at Tom with hearts in her eyes, incredibly thankful that he didn't give up looking for her.

Chapter 56: Into the Woods: The Wolf

Chapter Text

Rose’s POV

I was skipping down the flowered path that provided a happy greeting as I ventured deeper into the woods. It was daylight out, but the sun could barely break through the thick branches that towered over the trail.

I was trying to collect berries so I could make a pie this afternoon. The woods always has the most delicious juicy berries, so into the woods I went. I had to kick my brown peasant skirt as I walked so I didn't accidentally trip on it.

I strolled down the path of exotic flowers, trying to remember where the special berries grow. I froze when I thought I heard a twig break behind me, so I turned around. I didn't see anyone walking after me on the trail, and it was so difficult to see anything in the bushes or behind the trees because it was so dark. I thought I heard heavy breathing, but I just kept walking and ignored it.

I enjoy walking in the woods. It clears my head, and I have no fear of it. It's quite therapeutic.

Suddenly, behind me I heard someone say, "good day, young lady."

I quickly turned around and was pleasantly surprised to see a super-slick, good looking man in the middle of the trail. He wore a dark hat and I could see ears peeking up out of it, and he had a long dark mustache that looked like whiskers. He wore a dark gray and black pantsuit with fur, and gloves that resembled claws on the fingertips. He had thick bushy eyebrows, and an intense look on his face. He also had a curiously low hairline, a strong nose, and a tail peaking from his waistcoat. He was a wolf?

"Hello, Mr. Wolf," I greeted out of politeness. Besides, he was attractive and too human-like to assume that he was an animal. Just a man playing a little dress-up. Just a little weird, but not unusual around here.

"Whither away so hurriedly?" He asked as he slowly approached me.

"Oh, I am just trying to collect ingredients for a pie I'm planning to make."

"And what might be in your basket?" He asked.

He's a little nosey, which I did not appreciate. "Just some eggs and milk and I'm on my way to collect berries."

"Delicious," he said with a slight hiss. He rolled his finger at me and asked, "may I see?"

I smiled sweetly. “No, I best be off. Nice to meet you."

I continued on the path. I looked back for just a moment, enough time to notice that Mr. Wolf was looking at me longingly.

Then, I heard him sing, "look at that flesh, pink and plump. Hello, little girl."

"Did you say something?" I stopped to ask.

I continued walking backwards slowly because his answer was more singing, "tender and fresh, not one lump. Hello, little girl."

"Hello," I said back. Weirdo.

"This one's especially lush, delicious..."

I turned back to keep walking, picking up my pace just a tad. I even grabbed my skirt to start running. With inhuman speed, he managed to suddenly slip in front of me. I screamed and my feet froze in place.

"Hello, little girl. What's your rush? You're missing all the flowers," he sang, gesturing to the flowers that lined the path.

"Are you singing?" I asked with a twinge of judgement in my voice. I stumbled backwards to try to go back the way I came to get away from him.

He once again slithered in front of me and he sang, "the sun won't set for hours, take your time."

"Look, dude, just leave me alone, okay?" I asked, trying to step past him. I kept moving forward, but he slithered around me and made me stop again. He may be smooth, but his weirdness was overlooking my infatuation with him.

"But slow, little girl, hark! and hush—the birds are singing sweetly. You'll miss the birds completely. You're traveling so fleetly."

I turned around again and kept walking. I'm not a little girl. I'm a whole-ass adult and I'm going to get my berries, even if this weirdo is pestering me.

"Utter perfection: one brittle, one supple, one moment, my dear—"

He raced ahead and darted in front of me once again. He snuck behind a tree, but I could see his sharp and menacing smile through the darkness. How is he going so fast?

"Go away!" I shouted at him.

"Just so, little girl—"

"Are you even listening to me?" I scolded.

"Any path. So many worth exploring. Just one would be so boring. And look what you're ignoring..."

I gripped my skirt and ran as fast as I could down the path. His voice was following me as I ran. I looked back and Mr. Wolf was gone, but it didn't slow me down. I didn't stop until I reached the lush meadow, blanketed with exquisite purple flowers and the wild berries I've been searching for. I took my time to catch my breath and kneeled down in the meadow to fill my basket with berries.

His voice was dense and it filled the meadow, but I couldn't tell where it was coming from. He was working himself up as he sang, "think of those crispy, lovely bones, then someone fresh on the palate. Think of that scrumptious carnality twice in one day... there's no possible way... to describe what you feel when you're talking to your meal!"

I froze, and I swore I could feel him growling in my ear. Very slowly, I gripped my heavy basket and stood up. Lightning quick, I spun around to face him and he was standing right behind me. He picked a flower and handed it to me.

"For you, my dear."

"Thank you." I took the beautiful flower from his claws and smelled it gently. "Goodbye, Mr. Wolf."

"Goodbye, little girl. And hello..."

He climbed up on top of a precipice, and he was silhouetted by the red hot sun that was beginning to disappear below the horizon. He let out a mighty howl, which made me cringe.

"Oh, and please don't follow me." I turned to face him. I noticed Little Red Riding Hood walking down a similar path nearby. She's an annoying little brat, so I decided to sic Mr. Wolf onto her. I pointed to her and said, "you should do that little song and dance to that little girl over there, since you love them so much."

I walked on down the flowered path alone, while Mr. Wolf went off and followed Little Red Riding Hood.

Chapter 57: Pirates of the Caribbean: Kingdom Dance

Chapter Text

Narrator's POV
1728

The Kingdom of Granada is a small island, located in the Atlantic Ocean. Their leader is the young and beautiful Queen Adela.

Granada is infamous for their ruthless leaders. Despite being a small country, they have one of the largest and most efficient militaries in the Atlantic. This, paired with terrifying leaders, has caused Granada to become one of the most feared countries in the Atlantic.

Queen Adela had just recently become Queen, and began learning what is needed from her to become one of the best leaders her country has ever known. She had spent her entire young life as a princess, learning how to efficiently rule until her coronation. She rules alone, but was quick to become respected amongst the kingdom.

If you asked the villagers of the kingdom, they would tell you about their young but vicious Queen. Their knees will shake as they tell their tales. But if you asked anyone in the palace, they'd tell you about her kindness that almost made her executed for treason. She has to remain under the impression of being ruthless and utterly terrifying to keep her kingdom safe from neighboring countries who want to overpower them.

Every Spring season, the kingdom throws a massive festival to celebrate when their country was founded. Every year, Adela watches from the castle window in her bedroom, wishing that someday she could be apart of it. That was until she decided to join them.

Queen Adela sat on a rococo style chair in her bedroom, clad in just her white shift. This article of clothing was rather old, and had suffered a rip that went up to her hip. It was perfect. She lifted her leg up which parted the rip, and she carefully rolled a stocking up to her knee, where it was held up by a ribbon. She switched legs and put that stocking on as well, then grabbed a deep blue stay that she borrowed from one of her maids.

She put the stay on over her shift, and managed to lace it up herself tightly. The stay gave her an ice cream cone silhouette, which was ideal for the time. She attached two petticoats around her waist, one was brown and another was a dark green. Over that, she put on a mantua gown. She didn't need anything to match if she was disguising herself as a commoner.

Queen Adela quickly disguised herself to go amongst her kingdom to celebrate in the biggest festival of the year. All she wanted to do was go dance without fear of being spotted and recognized.

This may seem like a lame disguise, but the villagers have barely caught a glimpse of their new Queen. Even her life as a princess was extremely limited from the public eye. She has attempted to keep her identity hidden, besides a few who have slipped a passing glance with the Queen. She's a silent ruler, and she wanted to keep it that way.

Adela snuck out of the castle, hiding her dress with a massive cloak. Birds sang happily as she walked by, which was a pleasant welcome. When she got into town, the orchestra for the festival began to play a medieval folk-style song that was very popular amongst the villagers. Adela was in a daze as she admired the lively street fair atmosphere.

Adela let the cloak drop to the cobblestone ground, and she elegantly held the skirt of her dress and approached the town square. The lights of the town were shining down, and her people were beginning to dance, so she joined them. She spun around without a care in the world, letting her skirt whip around her ankles. She hopped and skipped lively, pulling people in to join in on the fun.

Pretty soon, almost the entire village was dancing and twirling with the Queen. Those who weren't dancing were surrounding the dancers, clapping and laughing along. The elderly were smiling and clapping on the sidelines. Children were able to safely and happily dance with any stranger because everybody and everyone in the village was a massive family.

Captain Jack Sparrow was just passing through when he found himself caught in this dance that everyone in town was participating in. He scanned the people, and a beautiful village girl caught his eye. There was something about her that drew Jack toward her in an uncontrollable way.

One of the commoners peered at the Queen, with a smile spreading across his lips as he watched how happy she was. He thought she looked familiar, despite being under the impression that she was a newcomer. He leaned to a man beside him and asked, "that woman there... do you think she looks like the Queen?"

The second villager looked out to the woman and could immediately see it. "She sort of does, but she can't be... can she?"

"No, no," another interfered, "I've seen the Queen once with me own eyes. She was terribly frightening and clutched a sword. This girl is smiling, she can't be the Queen. The royals don't know how to smile."

Jack froze from walking and opened his ear up to eavesdrop on their conversation.

"Whenever I see Her Majesty, she always has a sword," the first commoner agreed. "I swear, she looks just like her. She can't be..."

"Look at her smile! It lights up these streets," another noted.

"A breath of fresh air."

Jack peered at the lovely maiden, dancing with the townspeople and smiling and laughing without a care in the world. As soon as he realized it was Queen Adela, he couldn't unsee it. The last time he saw her, she had a scowl across her face and a sword in her hand, banishing him from her kingdom. Jack found himself unable to stay away. He wanted to see her again. He needed to. His expression turned to a smirk and he let himself get pulled into the circle of dancing.

He had some unfinished business to deal with, with the Queen.

Jack grabbed her hand and participated in the traditional dance while she was falling for the flow of the music. It made her feel most at home and she was going to dance until dawn. She barely noticed her change of partners, because she wanted to dance with everyone.

The music stopped right when Queen Adela and Jack pulled into each other. His left hand gripped her waist, while his right held her hand. Both breathing heavily, they looked each other in the eyes. His hand slipped over her violin hips, because to him, her body was a symphony.

As soon as Jack looked into her green eyes, he knew he was looking at the Queen. The sunshine reflected brilliantly in them, and memories of the last time he looked into them flooded his memory, with the direct order to never step foot on her land again.

Adela's eyes widened when she realized that she had just danced with a pirate that she had kicked out of her kingdom. Jack smirked when he figured out that Adela was undercover in her own kingdom. She couldn't have him arrested without outing herself as the Queen.

"Your Majesty, I never thought you would have it in you.” Jack smirked at her, pulling her closer.

She squinted back at him in annoyance. She knew that he knew that she couldn't do anything about it. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I think you do. It's not so often I look into eyes like those. There is nothing to do but remember them."

"I believe the Queen has made her orders to you quite clear," she said firmly, releasing her grip on his hand, but Jack kept her close.

"Not clear enough, obviously."

"You ought to leave, pirate. Or, it'll be your head."

"Who would have thought that Queen Adela would be so spirited.” He grinned.

"She's not," she snapped.

"Well, then, m'lady. Stay a while and we shall dance together, and we will feel away until the break of twilight and dance together 'till morning."

Her eyes narrowed at him and a smile twinged at her lips. Without trying to humor him, she said, "you're on, pirate."

A new song bellowed from the acoustic band, and Jack held Adela tightly. His shirt was untucked and messy. They began aggressively dancing together, feeling the beat of the music pulse through their bodies. They kept brushing against each other, and kept aggressive eye contact. They let the upbeat music be their guide. Jack swung his partner, and she fought back which commenced their dance-fighting. Jack was prepared to dance until morning light, and Adela was determined to send Jack back out to sea.

Jack held Adela’s hand and had his arm extended, but then he spun her in tightly. She found herself with her chest against his, and he wasn't willing to let her go.

"Stop trying so hard, darling, I'm clearly the better dancer," Jack stated with his chapped lips by Adela’s ear.

Adela glowered at him, and almost as if it was on cue, she tripped and Jack was quick to catch her. The music stopped and everyone broke out in applause, but Jack kept Adela in a dip. He smirked at her and said cockily, "told you."

There was a magic in the air that sparked between the two. To a pirate that she once banished, the Queen was now at a loss for words. Looking up at Jack, she said, "you're not nearly as slow as you look."

Jack's eyes narrowed at her as he tried to determine if that was an insult or a compliment. His narcissistic brain decided that it was a compliment so he said, "thank you, dearie, you're not too bad yourself."

Jack lifted Adela up, but their eyes never left each other. The band began playing a new song, and the townspeople began to dance around them, but they didn't move. Their eyes kept darting from their eyes to their lips, and the electricity between them could start a fire.

"I think I know why you are vexed by me," Jack said in such a low voice, it was nearly a whisper.

"Why?" She asked.

"You want to be me. You want to bewithme."

"That's preposterous," she stated with an eye roll.

"Think about it, love. The adventure, plundering, all the gold you have ever imagined, right at your fingertips. In the palm of your hand. Who wouldn't want that?"

Adela stared at the pirate, angry because he was right. She wiggled out of his grasp and started her march back to her cloak. Jack was left with his arms still in the position of holding her close, but his eyebrows came together in confusion and his eyes followed her until she began walking off while putting her dark cloak back on.

The music was playing lively, but Jack could barely hear it anymore. He rushed to Adela and got her to stop walking by stopping in front of her. She looked up at him and she said, "look, pirate, I have to run my kingdom so unless you want to face the gallows, you should leave."

Jack's jaw dropped in an offended manner. "I have a name."

"My apologies, Jack Sparrow," she spat.

"Captain.CaptainJack Sparrow," Jack corrected.

Adela huffed at him, and he didn't bother to move. He finally asked, "why do you act like that?"

"Act like what?" She asked and walked around Jack to start heading back to the castle.

He walked with a pep in his step to catch up and he walked along side her. "Like you would rather be feared than loved."

She sighed and said, "because I'm a woman, Jack. If I show any sort of softness, my kingdom could be destroyed and my people would all die. I do it to protect them. I must act as those did before me. They kept our people safe from harm."

"You know, this isn't my first time here—"

"Clearly," she interrupted.

He waited a beat before he continued, "right. Well, not only is all of Europe afraid of Granada, but your people are as well. They're afraid, because they don't knowyou. For all they know, a stranger is running their kingdom with an iron fist."

Adela was about to say something, but then she really thought about what Jack was telling her and she knew that he was right. If she was in their position, she would be afraid too. She thought she was doing what was right, but perhaps she was not realizing how important personal connections are to her people.

"Is that how you lead your ship?" She genuinely asked.

"Why don't you join me and find out?" He asked with a wink.

Adela looked away so Jack couldn't see her smile. "You're funny, pirate."

"Aren't you glad I broke your banishment rule?" He asked.

"You're pushing it," she said quickly.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly.

As they approached the gates of her castle, she stopped and readjusted her cloak. She turned to Jack and held out her hand. "Thank you, Jack. I appreciate everything you've done today for me."

"Anytime, love," he said. He took her hand and put her knuckles up to her lips. He straightened up and looked at her and said, "may the winds blow me to you again."

Her cheeks grew warm and she agreed, "hopefully soon."

He smiled at her and plucked his hat off his head to take a bow. In his curtesy, the castle doors opened and a few guards barged out. Each one pointed their gun at Jack, who lifted his hands up in surrender.

"Arrest the pirate. His execution will be scheduled for dawn upon the orders of Queen Adela," one of the guards said.

"No!" Adela shouted which made the other guards freeze from trying to arrest him. They froze and looked at their Queen for further direction. She calmly said, "Captain Jack Sparrow has been expunged from any and all crimes he committed in Granada."

"But, your Majesty—"

"That's an order," she interrupted.

"Yes, your Majesty," he said and the guards retreated back into the castle.

Jack let out his exhale and he thanked her. She said, "when you return, I'll expect a dance."

"Of course, my Queen. Until then," he said and extended his hand out to her.

"Until then," she said and gingerly grabbed his hand.

They held hands for a moment while looking into each other's eyes. It took everything for Jack to slip his hand from hers and race down the hill to get back to the Black Pearl.

Adela watched him go, and then walked into her castle with a newfound perspective of leadership strategies. She was determined to create a friendly approach and become a well loved Queen rather than a feared one. All thanks to Captain Jack Sparrow.

Chapter 58: Finding Neverland: Play Pirates

Chapter Text

Narrator's POV
1921

Sophie took her five-year old daughter June to the doctor where she had to undergo a surgery to correct a strabismus in one of her eyes. Sophie's husband, Jim, was out on business but was coming home the next evening.

Shortly after Sylvia had passed away, J.M. Barrie adopted the Davies boys. Very soon after, he met Sophie and with the blessing of his beloved sons, he married her and they had a baby girl, June. The Davies boys, Sophie, and June became Jim's life.

The evening that Jim came home, he greeted his loving, beautiful wife on the cheek. He tip-toed into June's room, where she was sleeping soundly on her back after her long day. Jim noticed a black eye patch on her eye, and it made him think of the times he played pirates with the Davies boys some years ago, back before Sylvia died.

Sophie said to him in a whisper, "she has to wear it for two weeks. She's terribly embarrassed."

"I see," Jim said softly in his soothing Scottish accent.

Sophie could see his mind moving and then he suddenly stood up and whisked out of the room without an explanation. Sophie leaned against the doorframe, watching her little angel sleep.

Jim came back in and sat down at the foot of June's bed. He put his hand on her stomach and rubbed his hand up and down to wake her up.

She stirred awake and her one eye blinked gently. She said sleepily, "hi, daddy."

"Hello, darling. I like your eye patch."

"I don't like it," she grumped.

"You know, you look exactly like a member of Captain Hook's crew," he said with his magical voice that could send adults into the depths of his own imagination.

Her eye brightened. June loved watching her fathers plays,Peter Panbeing her favorite. Jim knew how much she loved the scenes with Captain Hook, and thought that this would make her happy.

"I do?" She asked.

Jim smiled. “Aye. Trick him, you could. And look what I've got."

Jim pulled out a black eye patch from his pocket that he had used to play with the Davies boys back when they were young. He secured it on his head, blocking vision from his right eye. He smiled kindly at his daughter and said, "you and I can play pirates together."

Jim smiled at the fond memories of playing with his sons, eventually finding Neverland and creating his best play. It had been six years since young George was killed in action during World War I, and just a few months after Michael's "accidental" drowning. Everyday, Jim missed them both tremendously. His heart ached at the loss. But it was Sophie, June, Nico, Jack, and Peter who gave him the strength to carry on.

June smiled broadly and sat up. Her young mind was imagining her and her father were transported to a magical land far away, where everything is eternal and evergreen. She said, "I don't have a sword!"

"It's off to the ship with you, then! Off to the ship, lass!" Jim said in a scruffy Cockney accent. He scooped June up in his arms and whisked her away from her bedroom, taking her to the living room where he set her down on their leather sofa.

The darkened living room instantly became a pirate ship, navigating through the treacherous sea. The chairs became barrels of rum aboard the deck, the island in the kitchen turned into the ships wheel, and portraits on the walls became the rigging and sails.

"You can either choose to become a pirate with the rest of us, or we'll toss you to the shark!" Jim threatened, pointing out the nearby window where both he and June could see the shark that swam in the dark water, surrounding the ship.

"No!" June exclaimed and finished with a giggle.

"Now then, are you ready to tie your hopes and dreams to the sea?" He asked with a raise of his thick eyebrow.

"I am!" June said excitedly.

Jim dropped his accent and said nonchalantly, "not finished yet."

June giggled and looked straight at Sophie, who was just tying a red bandana around her head so she could join in on the fun.

"What did you say?!" He asked and crouched down beside her. "What are you doing, lass? Are you giggling? On my ship?Giggling?!"

"Lay off her, will you, Captain?" Sophie said in a sailor's voice. "Children giggle! Not a crime."

"What's your name, lass?" Jim asked, standing up straight and looking at his adoring wife with a glimmer in his eye.

Sophie said, "Call me... Smee."

He smiled widely. “Welcome aboard, Miss Smee! There's a price to pay to be abroad my ship."

"And what's that, Captain?"

Jim took her soft hand and pulled her close. A little laugh escaped her lips before Jim leaned in and gave her a kiss. Their eyes both closed, savoring this moment together as a family. When they pulled apart, Jim was blushing and he said, "you're in."

"Why, thank you, Captain," Sophie said with a slight courtesy.

Jim crouched back down to June and asked, "and who be you, darling?"

This wasn't June's first time playing pirates with her imaginative father. She kept her composure and she said, "I'm Jolly June! The happiest pirate in all the seas!"

"Welcome abroad, Jolly June!" Jim shouted. Then he asked with a twitch of his lip, "do you know how to read the stars?"

June thought for a moment, but then shook her head no. In turn, Jim scooped her up once again and placed his giggling daughter on his hip and the entire Barrie family raced to the nearest window. He drew the curtains back, and pointed up to the brightest star. "Do you see that second star to the right?"

June's eyes found the star that shined brightly in the night, gleaming in the sky above with a rare light. She nodded, "yes, Daddy."

Sophie hooked her arm to Jim's and rested her head against his shoulder lovingly. He was so in love with her, he couldn't imagine not being in her life and he was thankful everyday that she was in his.

"That little star tells you that the dreams you have, really can come true. If it's Neverland you need, the light will lead you there. Just follow that second star to the right, and straight on 'till morning."

June's eyes beamed. "Neverland!"

Jim smiled at her. “Yes, my dear, Neverland. Someday, we will go."

The family looked up at the sky, and soon a cloud came rolling by, similar to the shape of a pirate ship. June gasped and pointed up at the cloud, where in her heart she fully believed that Peter Pan was sailing up with Captain Hook's ship, going on his next adventure.

"I love you, darling," Sophie said softly.

"And I love you, to infinity and back again," he said.

Jim kissed June's cheek softly as she let out a yawn. She rested her head against his shoulder, and he wrapped his other arm around Sophie. Everything was unbelievably perfect, and he could not wait for what tomorrow would bring.

Chapter 59: Dark Shadows: Mansion Tour

Chapter Text

Joanna's POV
2095

I never thought in a million years I'd be back in Collinsport, Maine, let alone going through my old mansion.

I lived here in the 1795 where I was cursed by a wretched man named Barnabas Collins, who plagued me with a thirst for blood, and the inability to age. That night, Barnabas was buried twelve feet deep below the earths surface, bound in chains and doomed to spend his torturous eternity underground. I hope he stays there until the end of the world. Ever since that day, I've wanted to kill him and feel his blood slip down my throat. However, you cannot kill a man who is already dead. Besides, being buried alive in a coffin is a much greater punishment than death.

The night I was turned, I fled Collinsport and I moved to the other side of the country. After I saw what the townspeople did to Barnabas, I knew I was next. I had to get away from the New England life, and I went under a new identity.

I have new identities every couple of decades. I cut all ties with every human I become acquainted with, and I move on. It's hard on the soul, but I've gotten used to it. I have recently come back to Collinsport, just to see how much things have changed. I like using one of my identities here at least once every hundred years. No one has recognized me yet.

It is difficult to hide from the sun, but luckily it is usually cloudy here in Main. In other parts of the world, I have gotten used to wearing a sufficient amount of clothes, sunglasses, and an umbrella. My usual excuse is that I burn easily, although sometimes I claim to be allergic to the sun. People usually don't give me a second thought.

I used to look sickly from how pale I was due to lack of blood, but with modern beauty products I had begun using makeup and self-tanner to look healthy and... well... alive. It has worked very well for decades.

There is a fictional saga from the 2000's about vampires who are vegetarian because they only drink the blood of animals. I found the saga rather offensive, but for fun, I tried it. Humans are much more nutritious but I have survived feasting on only animals since 2008. I treat myself to the occasional human who rightfully deserves to die, and I have learned to control myself around blood. I am not a monster, unlike some people.

I met with a friend back in my home town who suggested that we take a midnight ghost tour together. I didn't realize we would be touring through my old mansion until we got there. We all met under the moon on the outside of the house, and I looked up at the gargoyles and saw the one that had broken and killed Barnabas's parents that fateful night. The tour began the moment we walked through the enormous oak front doors.

Our tour guide led us through the house, giving elaborate historic stories of the magnificent gothic mansion. Most of it was true, but there were certain aspects that either got lost or details were skewed due to the amount of time that had passed. She kept mentioning the Collin's, which I found rather insulting. I lived with the original Collins family, and it wasn't that impressive then, and it's not impressive now.

"This mansion has more than 40 rooms, and the Old Wing has been closed to the public since the 1960's," the tour guide stated as we walked through the central part of the mansion with about a dozen other people who were taking the tour. She pointed out the servant's quarters in the back of the first floor as we passed them.

Lamps were lit to light the mansion, just like in 1795. The tour guide had said that the mansion was modernized for the family, but when it became an attraction they decided to bring it back to its original glory. The vaulted ceilings, arched windows, and ornate details have remained the same, even three hundred years later. The dark interior was almost exactly the same as I remembered it, and it still looked out to the Atlantic Ocean that you can see from the parlor's large bay windows. Even the paneling of the back wall of the parlor contained the entrance to a secret passage that led to the west wing study, which I assume hasn't been opened in centuries. I doubt anyone knows it's there except for me.

The tour guide pointed out the portraits of the Collin's family ancestors that hung around the parlor and the foyer, specifically pointing out the portrait from 1795 of Barnabas that has hung in an alcove by the main entrance.

Barnabas and I were in love. So in love, I moved into his mansion for him. I was given a glamorous room in the East wing, where I resided until I fled Collinsport. However, his parents didn't approve of me. They fixed him to marry a wealthy woman named Josette, and they got engaged rather quickly. But, then I found out he was having an affair with a maid in the mansion, even when we were together. He deserves nothing but torture for what he did to me, both physically and emotionally.

The floor of the main foyer was tiled in a familiar blue and white pattern that evoked ocean waves, or similar to a basket weave design. I looked up at the chandelier, and instead of seeing the milky white octopus tentacles snaking among the strings of crystals, I saw a chandelier I was unfamiliar with. Other than that, it was the same.

The guide led us up the grand stairway to the mezzanine that overlooks the foyer and led us down one of the hallways on the second floor, where I inspected the paintings, portraits, and photographs that were placed on the walls. There was an antique mirror that we passed, and I didn't see my reflection. Most antique mirrors are made of silver, so my reflection is absorbed and doesn't show. Modern mirrors, however, I can see myself. We got to my old bedroom, which looked exactly the same as it was when I left it hundreds of years ago.

"This room is fairly new to our tour. This was the infamous locked bedroom of Madame Joanna Evans. She was one of Barnabas Collin's mistresses—"

"What?" I interrupted. I had to stop her right there.

"I—I'm sorry?" The tour guide asked.

Everyone was looking at me but I continued just so lies were not spread about me, "Joanna wasnotone of Barnabas's mistresses."

"As I mentioned before, Barnabas was engaged to be married to Josette du Pres but he had relations with a maid named Angelique, and Madame Joanna."

I rolled my eyes at my memory of Josette and Angelique. Josette was irritating, and Angelique was envious of my relationship with Barnabas. And she was absolutely bonkers. "Yes, only because his parents did not approve of his relationship with Joanna."

The tour guide sighed, as if this wasn't the first time the record had been set straight. Then she asked, "may I finish?"

"Yes, I'm sorry," I said.

She continued with her story, "one fateful night, Joanna's maid was coming into the room to deliver towels and saw Barnabas Collins killing her. The maid raced down the stairs, screaming for help. When villagers stormed the mansion, Joanna was gone. No one knows where her body went, except for Barnabas. And no one knows where her final resting place is. This has remained Collinsport's biggest mystery to this day."

I glanced around the room, remembering that night extensively. Barnabas had taken me by the back of the neck, wrapping my dark hair around his long, twisted fingers. He had pulled my head back ever so slightly, then dug his fangs into the muscle of my neck. The pain was extensive, and I could physically feel myself changing. I remembered feeling cold, empty, and lost.

"Hey, you look like her." My friend pointed at the portrait on the wall. I looked up at it, and saw the beautiful oil painting of me. Is it narcissistic to hang a massive painting of yourself on your bedroom wall? Yes, it is. That is why this painting used to be downstairs in the parlor, but they must have moved it. Ridiculous.

My hair was pulled up and out of my face, and I wore a light gray dress. This was completed only a few months before I was turned into a vampire. The portrait was painted just from the waist up, and I could vividly remember how tight that corset was and the boredom I suffered standing completely still for hours while the artist completed his masterpiece.

"A little," I stated.

I could see my old closet, that hung all of my old garments and gowns that I was so proud of. Oh, how I wish I could wear them again. I always looked ravishing. I even saw my old makeup that no one had bothered to throw away. It all reminded me of my old life, and made me realize how fast time passes. I sure miss it.

"Why was this room locked?" Someone from the group asked.

"After her death, her room was locked as a way to pay respect to her. The key was lost, and it wasn't until a few years ago were we able to unlock the door without breaking the lock. This is exactly how the room looked the night that Joanna died. If you look closely, you can still see the blood on her sheets."

The room was blocked off so we could really only lean in and look so nothing could get ruined. My enhanced vision made it easy for me to spot the blood spots from when my blood was oozing out of my neck after Barnabas bit me, but everyone else was leaning in and squinting.

"What happened to Barnabas?" I asked the tour guide, just to hear that legend says he is still underground. Suffering immensely.

"After re-emerging from his coffin in 1972, he has since—"

"Wait, what?" I had to stop her right there. "He came back?"

"DNA testing concluded that the man was indeed Barnabos Collins. However, he has since moved from Collinsport, back to Liverpool where he was born. Perhaps one day he will return and take us on a tour of his beautiful mansion himself."

I felt my heart beat faster and I almost felt faint. My friend leaned toward me and asked, "hey, are you all right?"

"I just need some air," I said breathlessly, promptly leaving the group to go into the garden.

I used to love coming to this garden. I'd make myself a cup of tea, and I'd stroll aimlessly around the lovely flowers and beautiful bush sculptures, the magnificent water fountain, the small plaza, and the gazebo, admiring the detail and the loveliness of it all. In my three hundred years, this is my favorite spot on earth.

I was trying to calm myself down in the garden, but then I heard a voice behind me. "I never thought you'd come back."

I gasped and jumped around to see Barnabas. He stood under the canopy that led to the garden, where a nearby lit lantern caused shadows to be casted on his pale skin, and his dark sunken eyes were staring into my soul. He had his long, bony fingers wrapped around his favorite cane, and he was dressed all in black. He looked exactly as I remembered the last time I saw him. The night he took my life.

"Although, I can't say I'm surprised to see you in the garden. This was your favorite spot on the property," he concluded, stepping onto the grass to reach me, his free hand stroking the pillar. "You still have the most fertile birthing hips I've ever laid eyes upon."

I couldn't even pretend that I didn't know who he was talking about. He's the one that changed me.

"It was until you ruined my life," I spat at him.

"I changed you so you could be with me forever," he said, "we could be together forever. We would never part."

"I never said I wanted this," I hissed.

"I can see that you're still angry..."

"Of course I am!"

"It wasn't me who broke our vows. It was you when you ran off, leaving me to be buried under the ground forcenturies!"

"We were never married! Damn you, Barnabas! You slept with that bloody maid! You didn't fight for me!"

"What?"

"You didn't fight for me! You let your mother and father control your bloody life. It's like you didn't even want me. You were embarrassed of me. How could I ever love a man who didn't love me back?"

His voice was low, "I wanted you more than you will ever know."

"Then why did you bite me and curse me to live a life of misery?"

"Angelique threatened to kill you if I didn't. You were in her way. I was frightened."

"Death would be more blissful than this."

"I wouldn't have been able to live with myself. I wanted to live the rest of my days of immortality with you, my dear. I guess I was a bit selfish back then." He extended his hand out to me, where I saw his long black nails that extended from his long, bony fingers. "Please, come with me, my dear."

I clenched my jaw but took his cold hand anyway. Feeling his hand in mine brought such a feeling that came over me in a rush. It brought back a memory of when we first met, where he was sneaking me around his mansion. It was midnight and we were following the glow from candlelight without a care in the world, just love. It brought me back to why I fell in love with him in the first place.

Barnabas walked with me back into the mansion. He gripped his iconic cane in one hand, and slithered his arm around mine and walked me through the main room of the mansion. His cane tapped the ground which echoed through the room.

There was a wonder in most everything I saw. Almost everything we passed in that mansion was linked to a blissful memory that I had long forgotten. I wouldn't be surprised if this was all a dream. I glanced up and saw the chandelier. It was gorgeous, but just not familiar.

Barnabas noticed and said, "the original chandelier had regrettably shattered in 1972."

"What's come of Angelique?" I asked.

"She is right where she belongs. Boiling in hell's everlasting sulfur," he answered through his gritted teeth.

He walked up to his fireplace, where we stood centuries ago. The fire danced on his glowing pale skin, and it was crackling softly. Last time we were here, Barnabas was confessing his love for me. Looking into Barnabas's eyes reminded me of the great love I once had for him. He was just as handsome as he was when he was alive, and being in his presence made me feel like I was on top of the world.

"Centuries may have passed, but there was not a day that I never thought about you, Joanna. This mansion was to be ours."

"Do you remember where we used to have fun?" I asked him.

"I know the body of this mansion as well as I know my own. Every nook, every cranny, every secret. Just as well as I once knew yours," he said as he stuck his cane into the hidden latch in the floor that opened a hidden staircase. The fireplace creaked as it started sliding back, and the wolves above the fireplace howled.

"Your father always did have a love for secret passages."

He chuckled deeply. "Indeed."

He offered me his elbow, which I took. We slowly descended down the staircase, that looked like it hasn't been opened in decades.

"I guess in your own crazy and miserable way you fought on," I stated as our shoes slowly clicked together down the steps.

"You're not the first person who has told me that," he stated, almost offended.

We came across the old family jewels were still tucked in the cellar, untouched for centuries.

"I was never interested in your family's fortune, Barnabas," I stated honestly. "I was in love with you, for you. If you came to me without a dime, I still would have loved you just the same."

Barnabas stopped walking and I turned to face him. He took his hands in mine and said, "my dearest, Joanna. Your love has put me at the top of the world. There hasn't been a day that goes by where I haven't regretted the events of that treacherous night. If you'll take my hand, I will ensure that we shall spend the rest of eternal suffering together, and make it a little more pleasurable. May we spend the rest of eternity together."

"What are you saying?" I asked.

"This is long overdue, my love. Will you be Mrs. Joanna Collins?" Barnabas asked before taking out one of his family rings between his lanky fingers. The ring used to belong to his mother before her untimely death that left Barnabas utterly heartbroken.

My smile broke my lips apart, and I said, "yes, my love."

He slipped the ring upon my finger and we sealed our love with a kiss. Our frozen lips touched, and I could have sworn that I felt warmth and love for the first time in centuries.

I woke up this morning, still hating Barnabas with my entire heart. Every day I blamed him for this dreadful curse that he bestowed upon me, but seeing him in front of me, it taught me that this wasn't a curse. It was a blessing. I had the rare opportunity to spend the rest of my everlasting life with the man I have loved for three hundred years, however long that may be.

Chapter 60: Sweeney Todd: Bloody Rain

Chapter Text

Pearl's POV

The thumping of the falling rain drowned out my thoughts as I put the last of this evenings pies in the oven. The sun went down hours ago, and the thick rain clouds covered the light of the moon. Fleet Street was flooding with grime as twigs and rotting leaves were floating on the murky water. The muddy cobblestones were impossible to see due to the flooding, and I was afraid that it was going to seep its way into the store.

Mrs. Lovett ran out a few hours ago, leaving me in charge of her successful shop. We have been very busy the past few weeks, but we have only had a few customers tonight because of the storm. We only sell meat pies, but I've been thinking about pitching the idea of selling dessert pies as well. I believe the public would love it, and they're fun and rather easy to make. I talked about the idea to our upstairs neighbor, Sweeney Todd, and he was fascinated with it. He's a barber, but he appears to be great friends with Mrs. Lovett because they are with each other all the time.

Sweeney is a little strange, but I do enjoy his company and I believe he enjoys mine as well. He has become one of my closest companions and it has become routine that he visits me in the shop every morning. Sometimes we will eat supper together if Mrs. Lovett is out and he doesn't have a customer, but he has never eaten one of our pies. He claims that he doesn't eat meat, so he usually just drinks ale while we discuss our day together. He makes me smile, and he usually has a serious expression on his face. I've only made him smile a few times, but I take that as an accomplishment.

I gripped the rolling pin and rolled out the thick yellow dough for tomorrow morning, so I wouldn't have to do it then. I froze when I heard the crack of thunder shake the shop, and that's when I knew that no one would be coming for the rest of the night. I dusted my flour covered hands off on the skirt of my black dress, and headed over to the door to lock it and start closing up shop. I was not looking forward to walking home in this nasty rain.

I slipped the skeleton key out of my pocket and as soon as I put it into the lock, I noticed a man standing out in the rain. His big black hair with the white skunk stripe through the middle was slowly deflating from the cold rain, and I didn't need to see his face to know that it was Sweeney Todd.

"Oh, bugger," I muttered to myself. I held my breath as I whipped open the door and ran out to him, stomping through the puddles that immediately soaked into my shoes, making my striped socks drenched. "Mr. Todd! Mr. T!"

He didn't acknowledge me. I ran around to face him but it was hard to see his face, it was so dark and dark raindrops were rolling down his features. But his face was frozen in a scowl that I assumed wasn't because of me. He was looking just past me, like he was lost in his own mind.

"What are you doing out here? You'll catch your death, come on," I said but he still wouldn't move. I put his arm over my shoulders and slowly guided him into the shop and had him sit down at one of the tables. He moved slowly, and didn't speak.

Once we were out of the rain and I got the door locked, I ran my fingers through my wet curly hair, getting the damp strands off my face. I turned to look at him and I nearly gasped when I saw that his entire face was covered in blood. Dark, thick blood that almost made me gag. It was as if the rain clouds above were down pouring blood onto the city.

"Mr. Todd!" I exclaimed. "Whatever happened to you?!"

"It's not mine, darling," he said in a soft voice, barely over the pitter-patter's of the rain against the windows.

"Oh, dear," I said as I ran toward the kitchen and grabbed a white rag. I grabbed a bucket and filled it with water and brought them both back to Sweeney. I kneeled down in front of him, and I dumped the rag into the water, and squeezed the excess out. I put my other hand on his knee to balance myself before I softly stroked his face with the rag.

I did this a few times, slowly taking the fresh blood off his face as gently as I could. His expression stayed harsh and in shock. This moment would have been intimate and relaxing if he wasn't covered in blood. I had to ask, "what happened?"

He ignored me and said instead in a cold whisper, "she did it, you know."

"Did what?" I asked, scrunching my thick eyebrows together.

"Mrs. Lovett. Her scheme was... diabolical. I—I cannot believe I let myself fall for her manipulative ways. Damn."

"Sir, you're in shock," I said and dipped the red rag back into the water. When I brought it back up and squeezed the fabric, it turned white again. I kept softly gliding it over his face, washing the blood away a little at a time until I could see his naturally pale skin.

His eyes finally locked with mine, and he said, "I'm so sorry, Pearl. You were so innocent of our ways... You didn't deserve to be twisted up in this mess."

"What mess?" I asked, getting the blood off his neck and jawline now.

"The meat pies," Sweeney sighed. "Did Mrs. Lovett ever tell you where we got the meat?"

I brought the rag back into the water and slowly answered, "no."

"I hate to be the one to tell you this, but it was human, darling."

I froze. What did he just say? Did I hear him correctly? "Human?"

"Aye, I'd kill them in my barber shop and send them down to the basement where Mrs. Lovett would turn them into pies."

"Oh my lord," I said and put my hand to my thumping heart. The thought of all the pies I had for supper, and how many people I had turned into cannibals. My stomach began to twist and turn, and my eyes began to water while my mouth filled with saliva. I raced to the nearest window and threw it open. Just in time, I stuck my head out and puked my lunch into a puddle below.

Once my stomach was empty of it's contents, I returned back inside and shut the window. I used a clean rag on my belt to wipe my mouth and I headed straight for our liquor cabinet to wash the bitter taste out of my mouth.

I poured myself a spot of ale and drank it down. Perhaps I can drink enough to forget about the fact that I've been eating human for weeks. Sweeney extended his arm out, so I walked over to him and handed him the ale. He brought the bottle straight to his lips and he took a few gulps with ease. I guess he wants to forget too.

"Where is Mrs. Lovett?" I asked with a shaky voice.

Sweeney was silent for a moment before he answered deadpan, "dead. She won't cause you anymore trouble, darling."

I exhaled slowly. I had been working for Mrs. Lovett for years. I was offended that she left me out of this huge scheme, and livid that she allowed me to eat those pies with no warning. Not even a hint that I should probably not consume it's contents. Just thinking about it again made me sick. She's a terrible person and I hope wherever she is, she is burning.

He put the half-empty bottle on the table and he said in a quiet voice, "I think it's best if you stay away from me. I don't want to hurt you, I never meant to cause you any pain and that's all I've done since coming back to this great black pit of London."

Sweeney slowly stood up and I put my hands on his arm. “No, Sweeney. Don't go. Please."

"I must, darling," he said and put his blood covered hand over mine. "It's what's best."

"No, no, please, I need you," I begged. He got to the door and I said, "I can't do this without you."

He turned to face me, and his scowl was replaced with sorrow. He walked up to me and put his hands over my cheeks, and pressed his cold, purple lips to my forehead. I closed my eyes, and opened when when he leaned back and said, "you don't need me. You've never needed me. Independent, you are. That's what makes you heavenly, my dear. You don't need anyone. You and I have grown close, this is true, but you can survive without me."

I shook my head. “No, no, I can't."

Sweeney was the only person keeping me sane. I was not ready to say goodbye. Everything seemed to be happening all at once, I could not handle all this change. Sweeney had always been a constant, and even that is being taken away. I didn't want him to go.

"Yes, you can.” He gave me a little smile. "The world is better off without Sweeney Todd. You, however, Miss Pearl, deserve all the finest riches in the world. I don't deserve someone as special as you. Reach for the stars, because I want you to give England the best damn sweet pies they've ever eaten."

"When are you coming back?" I asked.

He exhaled slowly before his dark, mysterious eyes came back to mine once again. I didn't know it was going to be for the last time. "I won't be coming back, love. Please, don't fret, this is the way it has to be."

"I'm going to miss you, Sweeney," I said in a small voice.

"I'm going to miss you too, darling." He brought the back of my hand up to his lips, closing his eyes as he gave them one last kiss.

His cold hands slipped from mine, and he headed out the door and disappeared in the dark of the stormy night. He left me in that pie shop, confused, heartbroken, and defeated.

No one has seen or heard from him since. I'm not sure where he was going, or what he planned to do, but all I can hope for is that he is now happy and safe. Perhaps someday I'll receive a letter from him telling me of his new life, or maybe I'll run into him again, and he can try one of my delicious sweet pies.

Chapter 61: Gilbert Grape: Arrested

Chapter Text

Darcy's POV

A gentle summer breeze was guiding me towards the front doors of my local grocery store, Lamson's Grocery. My orange maxi skirt tickled at my ankles as I opened the door and a burst of cold air welcomed me as sanctuary from the blistering heart of our towns brutal summer.

"Welcome in," the store owner, Lamson, said from the register after giving the only other customer in the store her change. Once she left, he said to me, "hey, Darcy. How's it going, darling?"

"I'm real fine, how about yourself?" I asked with a courteous smile. I grabbed one of their baskets from the front of the store to put my future purchases in.

Lamson is owner of this little store in our little town and he has made it a point to know everyone who walks though his welcoming doors. He's very friendly and it's easy to open up to him. I can see that he has a gentle and kind soul as well as I can see my own reflection in his bald head.

"Good. The weather has gotten everyone frolicking over to that ice cream parlor across the street so we've had some steady traffic today."

"It sure is a hot one. Could get heatstroke just sitting in your car," I chuckled.

"The summers here in Eudora are no joke."

"No kidding."

"Well, you know the drill. If you need help with anything at all, let me know. Gilbert is around here somewhere, he can help out too."

"Great, thanks."

I walked down one of the few isles with my grocery list in my hands, and I heard the front door open again and the owner welcomed in the stranger, but I don't think he said anything back to him. Not everyone treats the owner with the respect he deserves, especially if it's a newcomer.

I got to the end of the isle and turned to the next one where I saw Gilbert restocking. His head turned to me, and he smiled at me thoughtfully. He has long, dusty red hair that sways at his shoulders. I stood beside him and reached over to grab some salsa from the shelf.

"Am I in your way?" He asked in his small voice. He has always been very soft spoken and shy, but he is very sweet. Sometimes, when I'm standing close to him, I notice that he smells sweet, like pears.

"Oh, no, you're fine," I said softly to match his gentle energy.

I've lived in Eudora for a couple years now, and I only come here to grocery shop and Gilbert is always here. I could point him out in a crowd, and the little smile he greets me with every time I come in tells me that he recognizes me too but we have never really talked. I think he's really cute, but he's never given me the time of day. I like to think it's because he's shy, but I'm sure he has a girlfriend. How could he not?

I looked over my shoulder and caught him looking at me. We both looked away with smiles growing on our blushing faces. I tried to act busy by gently clicking my tongue in thought while I bent down to grab some cereal from the bottom shelf.

I felt someone grab my ass, and my sharp gasp filled the air. The mysterious and explorative hand slipped when I whipped around and I was face to face to the man sexually assaulting me. The perpetrator was the strange man who walked into the store shortly after I did.

I was filled with so much rage, and I felt incredibly disrespected and violated. My face was growing hotter by the millisecond and my hand raised up and slapped him hard in the face. The palm of my hand stung from the force I put upon his cheek and I noticed my hand print already beginning to form on his flesh. I shouted, "are you fucking kidding me?!"

He tried to bolt down the long isle, but Gilbert was standing at the end, armed with a broom. The man tried to push Gilbert out of the way, but Gil grabbed him and they spun to the floor in a tackle. Soon, Gilbert was on top of him, slugging his face in violent punches.

I dropped my basket and it fell to the floor. The noises of both men grunting and fighting on the floor filled the store and soon it caught the attention of Lamson and his wife at the front. Every time the man tried to get up, Gilbert would grab his shoulder and sink him further into the floor. Violence is never the answer, but he did deserve it.

Once Gilbert exhausted himself, Lamson helped him to his feet and they both kicked the man out of the store. I took a shaky breath and picked up my basket and put all the contents back inside. I stood back up and I could feel my heart pounding out of my chest from the sheer anger I felt toward the situation.

Gilbert was shaking out his hand when he came up to me. My eyes darted from the door to his face and he asked me, "are you okay?"

"Y-yeah, I'm fine." I felt a little shaky, mostly from how angry I still was. I couldn't believe that someone would do something like that. But then I turned the attention to Gil. I looked at his hands, his knuckles were bleeding and cracked while his entire hand was swelling up and bruised. "Are you okay?"

"I think so. I saw what that guy did to you—and... well, I have two sisters and I just saw red. I could not even think of anyone hurting them like that."

I turned to face the freezers and grabbed a pack of frozen peas for him to put on his hand. After I handed it to him, Lamson came over and asked, "Gilbert, what happened?"

"He assaulted Darce and tried to run off," Gil explained and readjusted the frozen peas on his hand.

Lamson rubbed his prickly chin in thought. He tapped his cheek with his finger before he asked me, "are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I said honestly.

"He violated her in a way no one should be violated," Gilbert added.

"I understand. Darce, I'm so sorry about that. Your groceries are on the house today."

"You don't have to do that."

"I insist."

I sighed softly, but this moment of peace was interrupted when two police officers came through the door with the bell ringing behind them.

"You're fucking kidding," I said under my breath. I noticed Gilbert let out a sigh, knowing what was to come next.

"Excuse me, sir, but one of your employees got in a physical altercation with a citizen. He's gonna have to come with us," an officer said to Lamson.

"Oh, he's not in trouble, is he?" I asked.

"He's going to have to be taken downtown."

Gilbert rolled his eyes and handed me the frozen bag of peas. I reluctantly took it from him, and he stuck his wrists behind his back while the officers put his handcuffs on. His dark eyes rolled over to me, but I had no idea what to do. I felt so bad.

"The man sexually assaulted me and Gilbert was trying to stop him from running off," I tried to explain.

"Darce, it's okay," Gilbert said with his gentle voice. He forced a little smile. The clicking of the handcuffs tightening behind his back made him wince. "I'll be okay."

I could do nothing but watch the officers carry Gilbert out of the store just for protecting and avenging me. He is too sweet to last long in jail. I could not believe that that man blabbed to the cops. I was shocked, to say the least.

I wanted to finish shopping but I figured I could get the rest of my grocery list another time, they weren't necessities. I didn't have anything that would immediately perish in the car so I drove straight to the county jail. With the money I saved on groceries, I was able to bail Gilbert out of jail.

I leaned up against the hood of my car, with my eyes focused on the front doors until Gilbert opened them. His eyes met with mine, and his smile showed the endearing little gap he has in his teeth.

He trotted down the steps and he met me by my car. He said, "cops told me that I was bailed out. I was expecting to see Lamson."

I chuckled softly and said, "he had a business to run."

Gilbert exhaled and said, "you didn't have to do this. I could have spent a few days in the slammer."

"Absolutely not. This was the least I could do. You did get arrested for me and all."

A smile curled his lips and his laugh forced him to look down at his shoes. When he looked back at me, he was a step closer and he said, "there's not much I wouldn't do for you."

His smile was contagious. "I just want to thank you. What he did was horrible and most guys would have just let him run."

Gilbert shook his head. "My mama raised me right. I don't like to see people I care about get hurt."

I wished I could have blamed my blushing cheeks on the summer heat, but he would see right through that lie. "You care about me?"

Gilbert's eyes widened for a second, but then he said, "y-yeah, I do. I really like seeing you at the store. In fact, I look forward to it. Everyday I think to myself, 'will Darce come in today?' It keeps me going."

He didn't sound sarcastic, which told me that he truly meant it. I glanced down at his hand and saw that they wrapped it up while he was in there. I looked at his left hand, and it wasn't quite as bruised up as his right so I took his hand in mine and gave it a quick squeeze. "Then maybe we should find times to be together when I'm not needing groceries."

Gilbert's face brightened as he nervously looked at our hands. He looked back up at me and said, "I'd like that."

Then, he stepped forward and planted his lips upon my hot cheek. My lips spread into a wide smile, and it didn't drop when he leaned back to look at me tenderly. Perhaps this brutal summer won't be so bad with a cool glass of water beside me.

Chapter 62: Star Diner

Chapter Text

Narrator's POV

There's a diner, located in the backwoods off of a deserted highway in the Pacific Northwestern side of the United States. It's called Star Diner, and it has been there for as long as anyone can remember. It has a giant neon sign pointing to the establishment that's famous for their burgers, milkshakes, and musicians that wander into the joint. However, it is not so easy to find. You can either stumble upon it, or spend hours driving up and down the highway to try to find the legendary diner.

One winter night, the iconicHollywood Vampireswere traveling by bus from one venue to the next. Most of the Hollywood Vampires were able to get on the first plane out to their next stop on their tour just before the blizzard hit, however Johnny Depp missed the plane so he had to rent out a bus and drive to the next location instead.

Johnny sat at the back of his tour bus, with the driver being the only other person riding along with him. Wearing his warmest gray sweater and a thick dark winter coat, he was also wrapped up in blankets to combat the broken heater. He was visualizing his track, mentally preparing himself for his next concert with his bandmates.

Johnny's preparation was suddenly interrupted when the bus came to a sudden halt right after they passed a sign saying, 'Welcome to Blue Moon, Oregon'. Assuming he slept through the night, he pushed the blinds back from a nearby window, where he was greeted with dark gray clouds that covered the full moon, a blanket of fresh white snow on the ground, and they were completely surrounded by evergreen trees.

"Hey, Dave? How's it going, man?" Johnny asked, rubbing his tired eyes and making his way to the front of the bus.

"Sorry, boss," Dave said as he put the bus in park. "Think we popped a tire."

"Shit," Johnny grumbled and scratched his scruffy cheek.

"No cell service either."

Johnny checked his phone and had the same problem. He looked out the window and saw neon lights belonging to the legendary Star Diner off in the nearby distance.

"Think there's a restaurant over there. Maybe they'll have a phone we can use," Johnny said.

"You try them, and I'll check if we have a spare."

"Sounds good, man," Johnny said. He reached over to his bag and pulled out his wallet. He thumbed some cash into his pocket as he said, "come join me when you're done. We could use a break, and I'm itching for a coffee and a slice of pie."

Dave agreed, and said that he would meet Johnny there. Johnny stepped off of the bus, and he slowly made his way down the dark path to the diner. He shoved his fists into his pockets, trying to avoid the chilly wind as much as possible. He squinted through the snow and trudged through broken twigs and snow covered leaves toward the diner.

The diner looked like it came out of the 1950s. It's decked out in neon lights, a bubbler jukebox, a counter-bar with red stools, and pictures of vintage cars and iconic musicians all over the restaurant. The floor is white and black checkered, and the booths have red seats to match the stools. A vintage milkshake maker sat on the counter. Every booth had a napkin dispenser, ketchup in a glass bottle, and salt and pepper shakers.

On shift this cold winter's night was the owner John, and veteran waitress, Skeeter. John has been the owner of the diner for over twenty years. Skeeter stumbled upon the diner when she was just a college student, and she forgot to bring any money to pay for her meal. John had made her wash dishes as payment, and it turned into a job that she had worked her way up for the past eleven years.

In this small yet unique town, everyone is a regular. Everyone knows everyone. New comers are always welcome, but they don't eat there very often, much to Skeeter's appreciation. Skeeter has stayed working at the diner for so long because she felt at home there, and the staff and friendly customers became her family. She also didn't realize just how much time has passed.

This diner requires their female staff to dress in bobby socks, a yellow dress with soft puffed sleeves, a white apron and a shorter hem. If it's cold out, they're able to wear a pastel colored button-up sweater. This was exactly what Skeeter wore to every shift, sometimes with roller skates. Meanwhile, the guys wore a white button down with a black bow tie and suspenders.

Being a roller skate day, it was rather slow at the restaurant. The 24-hour diner never closed. Skeeter was skating toward a table where a patron had just left.

"Bye, Janis. See you later," Skeeter called out to the customer with a small wave.

Janis turned around, her long brown hair falling in front of her face and hung loose around her shoulders, clad in her hippy style Afghan Coat popularized by Penny Lane. Her bright blue eyes looked over at Skeeter and she smiled back. In her raspy voice, she said, "see you later, honey."

The door opened as Janis stepped out of the diner and Skeeter pocketed her tip. All of her regulars tip very well. She cleaned up Janis's table and wiped it clean as she hummed along to a doo-wop song that was playing on the nearby jukebox.

"John!" Skeeter called out with her arms full of baskets of cold wrappers covered in their original hamburger sauce.

"Aye?" He called from the kitchen. During night shifts, John usually became the cook on-duty since it is usually slow. He has an old-school British accent that took a while for Skeeter to get used to.

"Did you hear about the restaurant on the moon?" She called out, tossing the wrappers in the garbage.

"No?" John asked, confused, before preparing himself for the upcoming joke.

"Great food, no atmosphere."

"You're ridiculous," John snickered, coming out to the now empty restaurant. "Dozy night."

"I'd rather it be slow," Skeeter said lowly, twirling her finger around on the clean counter.

John sighed softly and said, "I know. Me too."

Skeeter tried to lighten the mood again by saying, "what is a cannibals favorite restaurant?"

"I don't know. What?"

"Five Guys!"

"Who?" He asked with his eyebrows furrowed together over his circular wire rimmed glasses.

"You've never heard of Five Guys?" Skeeter asked defeatedly.

John shook his head no, and asked if it was a restaurant in her home town, but Skeeter explained to him that it was a popular restaurant chain. A lot of their conversations start like this. He's a little too old school for her.

"That joke was rubbish."

Skeeter jokingly sighed. "I know."

"They must have opened before—" John started, but was interrupted when the door swung up with a little bell chime. Johnny Depp stepped into the warm restaurant, warming his frozen hands by rubbing them together like a fly. He wore demin jeans with a warm jacket over a thick gray sweater with the sleeves rolled up slightly. He was relieved when he finally felt warmth, and slowly slipped his coat off. He looked straight at Skeeter, who was star struck. He smiled softly in her direction before making his way to the counter and sliding on one of the barstools.

Skeeter recognized him immediately as her favorite actor. Her jaw tightened with excitement, and her big brown eyes twinkled. He looked a little older than she had last remembered, but she could recognize him anywhere.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," Skeeter squealed under her breath.

"Are you just gonna stand there, or are you going to take his order?" John whispered to her harshly.

Skeeter stifled her laugh and swatted at his shoulder and asked him, "do you know who that is? That's Johnny Depp."

John chuckled under his breath and said, "I don't give a hoot."

"But wait." She turned back to look at Johnny, her curly brown hair flicking over her shoulders. Johnny's dark hair was covered in a thin layer of snow that he was still shaking off. She continued by saying, "but that means—"

John shook his head and reminded her, "you can't tell him."

"I know," Skeeter said glumly. John walked back into the kitchen and let the door swing shut behind him.

Skeeter took a quick breath before rolling over to Johnny, who had just sat at the counter, still rubbing his hands together to give them some warmth.

"H-hey, welcome to Star Diner," Skeeter stuttered. She cleared her throat to be more professional and got it through her head that he was just another customer.

"Hi, how's it going?" Johnny asked.

"Doing well, how are you?"

"I'm fine." He smiled at her.

Skeeter's heart melted slightly, but she pulled out an order card to block her smile. She asked him, "what can I get started for you tonight?"

"Can I get a coffee?" He asked.

"How do you like it?" She asked, turning to the brewing pot behind her.

"Black."

"Cream? Sugar?"

"No, but do you have butter?"

"Butter?" Skeeter asked as she grabbed a white mug and placed it in front of him and poured the black coffee into it.

"Yes," Johnny said, not realizing that that was an odd request.

"Sure, honey," Skeeter said, hiding her snicker. On the job, it's praised to call the customersdollorhoneyorsugar.

Skeeter skated to the kitchen and grabbed a couple packages of butter before bringing it back to Johnny. He thanked her, and she asked him if he wanted anything to eat tonight.

"Got any pie?"

"We do. We've got strawberry, cherry, blueberry, lemon meringue, coconut cream, chocolate cream, key lime, and of course apple," Skeeter recited from memory.

"I oughta get some dinner first. Pie later."

"What are we thinking?" She asked, ready to take his order.

Johnny's gaze swept down Skeeter's uniform, stopping at her cinched waist where the counter blocked his view. He looked at her name tag before looking back at her big brown eyes and asked, "well, Miss Skeeter, what do you recommend?"

"Have you been here before?" Skeeter asked, knowing full well that he hasn't. She would have remembered him.

"No, honey."

"If you're feeling like a late-night breakfast, then I'd recommend the waffles. Or, people die just to get a taste of our classic burger." She bit her lips together after that last sentence flew out of her mouth.

"I think I'll have a knack at that burger."

"Good choice." Skeeter smiled as she felt Johnny's kind eyes on her. "We also have a new milkshake, called the Blueberry Pie Milkshake."

"That sounds good, I'll take that too. What size do you recommend?"

"A large."

"Wow," Johnny laughed. "Let's do it."

Skeeter gave the order to John, who was manning the kitchen, as she grabbed a blueberry pie slice from the fridge.

"Uh, I'm sorry... I ordered the shake," Johnny pointed out after he spooned some butter into his coffee.

"I know," Skeeter chuckled. She opened up a blender, stuck the pie into it with vanilla ice cream, and hit blend.

"That's wild," Johnny snickered as Skeeter handed him the shake glass full of purple shake topped with whipped cream and a maraschino cherry.

"And your burger will be out soon," she said with a sweet smile before turning her back and cleaning up the blender.

Johnny tried some of the shake, and gave his compliments.

"How long have you worked here for?" Johnny asked, taking small sips of his coffee.

"Eleven years, about," Skeeter said as she used a clean rag to wipe down the counter.

"That's a long time," Johnny said. "This place is just out in the middle of no where, huh?"

"You could say that," she said. She felt bad about talking to him, in case he wanted to be left alone. He's probably had a long and very difficult day, even if he didn't remember it.

"Got any plans for the holidays?" He asked.

"Nope. Just working."

"You work over the holidays?" Johnny asked.

"Yeah," Skeeter said, letting the memory that she was going to be alone for Christmas once again. "What about you?"

"My tour ends a few days before Christmas, so I can spend it with my kids," Johnny said with a soft smile.

Skeeter felt her heart weaken with each beat as she paused. She breathed out softly before tossing the rag over her shoulder and said, "I bet they'd love to see you. I haven't seen my family in... in a long time."

"I'm sorry," Johnny said genuinely.

Skeeter shook off the feeling and smiled politely at Johnny and said, "it's fine. I'll get to see them soon, probably when the weather lets up."

"Do you get a day off soon?" Johnny chuckled. "I'm in a band and we've got some extra tickets if you want to come."

Skeeter's heart finally stopped again at the thought of going to one of Johnny Depp's concerts. Her lips moved, but no words came out. Then, she remembered the circumstance and she said, "I'd love to."

"Great," Johnny said, finishing his black coffee. "If it doesn't work out tomorrow, I'm supposed to head to New York for my last concert. I can fly you out. Hope that the blizzard blows away by then."

"That's very generous of you— but wait, are you in a band?" Skeeter asked, trying to not act like a fan-girl. She topped off his coffee with what was left in the pot.

Johnny froze and then he smiled. "Yeah, me and uh, a few buddies of mine. We make rock music."

John hit the bell to indicate to Skeeter that the burger was ready. She turned to grab it as she said, "perfect, because I love rock music."

"Oh, do you?" Johnny asked as Skeeter put his burger in front of him in the counter. "Who do you listen to?"

"There's Queen, which is a no brainer."

"Of course." He grinned.

"Aerosmith, Billy Joel, and I love to listen to Alice Cooper."

"You like Alice Cooper?" His dark eyebrows shot up.

"Yeah, likePoisonorSchool's Out. I love those songs." She started to brew another pot of coffee.

"Alice is in my band." He took a bite of his burger.

"No way."

"Way."

"You're kidding. That's so cool."

That was the issue with living in this forest in the middle of no-where in Oregon. Everyone is clueless on what is happening on the outside world, unless it's through the daily newspaper. For eleven years, Skeeter has been sheltered under this paranormal blanket of a too-perfect society buried deep in the forest. She didn't even know that Johnny was in a band. From every person that has ever walked through the doors to theStar Diner, she is the only one that doesn't belong, and they weren't going to allow another slip up again.

"He's a—he's a great guy. I love playing with him." Johnny pointed to his burger and said, "man, this is good."

"It's great, huh?" She chuckled.

"The best I've ever had," Johnny said in his mouthful.

Skeeter smiled at him before going to the kitchen to refill some ketchup bottles. John was in his back office, where Skeeter rolled her way to.

"He still here?" John asked, chewing on his pinky nail.

"Yeah," Skeeter said softly. "What's the date?"

John turned to grab a newspaper off from his desk and handed it to her. The date read December 11, 2025.

"I can't believe it's been eleven years. So much has happened in eleven years... what if he figures it out?"

"That won't happen. Not by a long shot," John reassured.

"Why can't I tell him? He keeps talking about the holidays and Christmas with his family... it is kind of breaking my heart."

John sighed and said, "we have got no control over it, dearie. He might come back with questions, which then we can answer. Until then, it stays quiet. Savvy?"

Skeeter nodded before going back to the counter with full ketchup bottles. Johnny was already halfway done with his burger when he asked, "what's there to do here?"

"Where?"

"This town. All I saw was forest."

"Did you come from the north or the south?" She asked.

"Uh—north."

"We are just on the outskirts. Go a little further south and you'll see more of the actual town."

"Did you grow up here?" He asked her.

"No, I didn't," she said, refilling Johnny's coffee again. "I grew up down in California."

"What brings you to Oregon?"

"Road trip actually," she said, "I was with my girlfriends on the way back from a trip up to Canada."

"Sounds fun," he said, eating a fry. "So, a road trip you never returned from?"

"Basically," Skeeter said with a small smile. "I actually started this job because I couldn't afford my meal. I started as a dishwasher."

"No kidding," Johnny said. "How old were you?"

"I was twenty-two."

"Oh, man, you were just a kid," Johnny said, trying to mentally calculate how old she would be now. She still looked like a college kid to him, instead of a thirty-three-year-old that she's supposed to be. Time passes differently in Blue Moon, Oregon.

"You said that you guys were on tour, right?"

"That's right."

"Do you like being on the road?"

"It's all right. The fans, the people make it all worth it."

"Want more fries? They're bottomless."

"No, thanks. I'm fine."

The door swung open, which resulted in cold air blowing through the diner and a tall man clad in a wool coat and trousers came through the door. Skeeter recognized him as one of her beloved regulars.

"Hey, E," she said sweetly with a big smile.

"Skeetie," he said in his thick southern accent, his bright blue eyes locked to hers.

"How're you doing?" She asked, preparing a white mug of black coffee. "Want the usual?"

"Yeah, that would be great, darlin'," the man said.

"You got it," she said. She poured some half and half into his coffee, and John was already preparing E's usual order in the kitchen.

"Who's that?" Johnny leaned into the counter with a whisper.

Skeeter got in close and whispered back, "the mayor."

E walked over to the jukebox, putting his dime in and choosingI'm So Lonesome, I Could Cryby Hank Williams. The soft strum of the song filled the diner before E slipped into a stool at the counter by the mug and took a gulp of the warm liquid.

The mayor moved into this quirky town back in 1977. His hair was as black as ink, styled so perfectly it became an iconic symbol for decades. He had rings on his fingers, which Johnny noticed when E scratched one of his thick sideburns. He had a thin waist, just as he did in his younger years. He was the first customer that Skeeter met who made her swoon like a teenage girl. He still had his charisma and flirtatious charm that has made women from all generations fall in love with him.

Johnny glanced over at the stranger a few chairs away to him, and it took only seconds before he knew exactly who he was.

"Sir?" Johnny asked.

The mayor lifted his head up just in time for Skeeter to place a fried peanut butter and banana sandwich in front of him. His favorite. He looked over at Johnny, whose eyes widened with realization.

"You're... you're Elvis?" Johnny mumbled.

"In the flesh," Elvis chuckled heartily.

"You're... wow. Man, you were my idol growing up."

"Glad to hear it, Johnny."

"You know me?" Johnny's eyes bugged and his chin dipped down.

"Of course." Elvis let out a belly laugh. "You're in that rock band."

"Oh, man, thank you. Thank you. That means... so mu—" Johnny froze. The excitement of meeting the legendary Elvis Presley was replaced with the inevitable confusion. Elvis died nearly fifty years ago. How is he meeting him now?

Skeeter noticed the sudden change in expression on Johnny's face. Her arms fell to her sides and she felt her heart fall at her feet. She saw him calculate what was going on in his head through his eyes.

"Something wrong?" Elvis asked before chopping down on his sandwich.

"Johnny," Skeeter said softly.

Johnny's big brown eyes remained bugged. His eyes darted between Elvis and Skeeter. Skeeter's gaze was sympathetic, while Elvis was very confused. He took a bite of his sandwich and looked at Johnny strangely,

"You're dead," Johnny stated.

"Yeah, and?" Elvis asked.

"Johnny—" Skeeter tried to calm him but his adrenaline was pumping too much. He threw come cash on the counter, thanked Skeeter for the meal, and he fled the diner.

"What did I say?" Elvis asked Skeeter, licking some of the melted peanut butter from his thumb.

"He didn't know," she told him.

"He didn't know?" Elvis's big blue eyes got wide. "How could he not know?"

Skeeter shrugged. "No idea."

Meanwhile, Johnny tried to race back to his bus, only to find that it was missing. Through the bitter cold, he continued to search until he found street lights. He called out for Dave, but he received no answer. He ran into the little town, careful not to slip on the ice that froze over the dirt road. The road turned to an old and cracked asphalt street with tall streetlights lighting up the snow that fell around him. It seemed too-perfect in Johnny's eyes, especially for a city in the middle of the woods. There was only one building with its lights on, and it was City Hall. Johnny ran to the building, careful not to slip on the ice. He found it unlocked. He let himself in, blowing on his cold hands when he noticed a giant desk in the middle of the room, with a single person sitting behind it.

"Johnny Depp?" The man at the desk asked. He wore a clean light gray suit, light stubble on his cheeks with his brown hair styled with gel. His tie was navy blue, and he gathered some paperwork in front of him and offered Johnny a chair.

"Yeah?" Johnny asked, slowly approaching the desk cautiously,

"We've been waiting for you," he said. "Nice to meet you, I'm Gabe."

"Where am I?" He asked.

"I'm going to have you fill these out."

"Fill what out? What is going on?" Johnny asked, setting his hands on the desk and glancing at the paperwork the man wanted him to fill out.

The man behind the desk was confused as to why Johnny didn't know why he was there. He took it upon himself to explain the situation to him.

Back at the diner, Elvis gave Skeeter a generous tip for his sandwich and asked, "you ever think about going back home?"

Skeeter had stumbled upon the diner when she was twenty-two. She was on a roadtrip with her girlfriends in 2014, pulling the short straw with having to drive by herself but she didn't mind. She got to listen to her own music and stop wherever and whenever she wanted. She got hungry so she pulled off to Blue Moon, Oregon, a town not on her map, and she stopped at Star Diner to get something to eat before realizing that her wallet was with her friends, who were still driving through Oregon to get back to California. John made her wash the dishes to pay for her meal, and that's when she realized she was stuck in the paranormal isolated town where the only inhabitants are deceased musicians.

Her friends made it home, but Skeeter never did. Everyone's first thought was that she got into a car accident, but no accidents matching her description or her car's were reported. After a few days of hope that she had just gotten lost and was about to walk through the front door was met with radio silence, her family reported her to be missing. Missing person fliers were passed around all over Oregon and California, but no one had seen her since. Her face has been plastered all over the internet, with her friends and family begging for her to come home or for someone who knows what happened to her to come forward. There's a memorial held for her every year. It's been eleven years, and they've generally accepted that she will never come home.

Skeeter is the only living person in the town, which her only communication with the living is through the daily newspaper that gets delivered to the diner. That's why she was unaware of Johnny's musical career. The supergroup wasn't formed before her disconnection from the living in 2014.

Time moves by very slowly there, Skeeter couldn't believe that it's been eleven years she has been gone from the real world. Skeeter misses her life, and she can go back whenever she wants. However, if she leaves, she can never come back to Blue Moon. That is what has been keeping her there. She isn't ready to leave the new life she had started.

"And leave you? Not a chance," she chuckled. "George Harrison came by again other day. John loved seeing him, it was really sweet."

"He's a good man," Elvis said. "I hear that McCartney is supposed to come by soon."

"You're joking," Skeeter said with a slight pout. She hated hearing of the musicians who are supposed to "come by" or "visit" or "move in". Because she knows that their time with the living is over.

Elvis shook his head but said, "it'll be nice to see him again."

"It would be nice to meet him," she chuckled softly.

"You will," Elvis reassured. "Are you sure you won't be going home? I'd hate to lose ya, but I don't want you to feel like you're stuck here. You should be out living your life."

"I haven't thought about it much." Skeeter shrugged. She left the counter to attend to a booth on the other side of the diner when she said, "I miss them, yeah, but I couldn't bare the thought of leaving this place."

"Well, if Mr. Lennon will give you the day off, you're always welcome at my place for Christmas."

"I'd love that," Skeeter said. She raised her voice when she called out, "Johnny!"

"Aye?" John asked from his back office.

"I want Christmas off!"

"Forget it!" He replied jokingly.

"She's a living, John!" Elvis laughed back, "she needs a day off!"

"She gets Sundays off! Christmas is on a Saturday!"

"What are you going to do, fire me?" Skeeter asked jokingly.

They were met with comedic silence and John responded with, "shut up."

"Christmas, my place. Okay, honey?" Elvis said as he stood up from his stool.

Since 1977, Elvis has looked the same as he did in the late 60s. He has his thick and amazingly styled hair, dark sideburns, and beautiful smile. His closet came with him when he moved in, and he helped build a stadium so all the musicians can still perform for each other. He loves his jumpsuits, and sometimes they still play his movies at the local movie theater for everyone to watch. He sat next to Skeeter when they were playingBlue Hawaiiduring the summer.

"You bet, E. Thank you." Skeeter rolled into Elvis's open arms for a hug. He put his large hand against the back of her head and held her tight.

"I'll see you soon, darlin'," he promised.

He let her go and started heading for the door. As Skeeter was clearing his mug and his plate she said, "come back soon. It's boring without you."

Elvis turned back to flash her his dashing smile before heading out the door and back into the blizzard. Skeeter rolled to the closet hidden beside the jukebox and grabbed a broom. She cleaned the counter and started sweeping around the restaurant to pass the time, then Johnny came through the door again.

She turned to face him, and saw that he was shivering and covered in flakes of freshly fallen snow.

"Did you know?" He asked, holding back his emotion. "Did you know that I am dead?"

Skeeter relaxed her lungs as they pushed air out of her lips and she nodded. She has always loathed those conversations. Like with Prince or David Bowie, it was so hard to talk to them about it.

"And you didn't tell me?" Johnny asked, pressing his thumb into his chest while his voice was breaking. "This whole time?"

"I wasn't allowed to, I'm so sorry," Skeeter said, "no one can come to Star Diner unless they're dead."

"Some guy... uh... Gabe, he told me everything," he said softly.

"How did it happen?"

"Car accident, I think," Johnny said and he rubbed the back of his neck. "But I don't remember it."

"People who usually don't remember were asleep," she said in a low, gentle voice. "Jimi Hendrix didn't remember either."

"You've met Jimi?" Johnny asked.

"Oh, yeah," she chuckled, "have you?"

"No." He shook his head.

"He was one of my first customers. Great guy."

"Who else have you met?" Johnny asked curiously.

"Everyone you can think of," Skeeter said, "the diner is one of the most popular in this little paranormal town."

"I really can't believe it," Johnny said, running his fingers through his soft hair. "So this town is just full of musicians, huh?"

"Yeah."

"So, who are you?" He asked.

"The only nobody," she said.

"That's impossible."

"It's true," she said. She explained her unique situation, which put Johnny at ease.

"What am I supposed to do now?" Johnny asked. "My family? My tour? My fans?"

"I'm sorry," Skeeter said. "Want me to call you a cab? They'll take you to your permanent residence."

"Sure." Johnny nodded. "How often do you have to say that?"

"Too often," she said before walking over to the phone and dialing the number for the local cab company.

When she hung up, Johnny asked her defeatedly, "what do I do now?"

"When the storm lets up, you can explore the town. It's really pretty in the day time," she said.

"What do you usually do for fun then?"

"What's fun?" She joked. "I work, a lot. But John understands that I'm a living, so not as much if I was dead. There's a library, which I try to keep up with current events but it's easy to get sidetracked. Time is different here then in the outside world so I'm a little behind. There's a movie theater. There's also a few stores that sell everything you can imagine. Of course there are a lot of restaurants. I love hiking around here too. Oh, there's a stadium too. Chuck Berry and Johnny Cash played last night, and Antoine—I mean, Fats Domino plays next weekend."

"Who else lives around here?" Johnny asked.

"A lot. Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and J.P. all moved in in 1959... I've met Roy Orbison, Cass Elliot, Don and Phil Everly, Eddie Cochran, Aretha Franklin, Sam Cooke, Bobby Darin, Tina Turner... pretty much everyone you can think of. Hank Williams owns a western bar down the street, and Jerry Lewis started a comedy club too."

"Do you have a winery?"

"A winery? No."

"Any rules against starting one?"

She chuckled, "no, I don't think so."

Johnny nodded and smiled as he looked down at his feet. He said, "is it inappropriate to get dinner with you sometime? Or a drink? I just have so many questions."

Skeeter said, "I don't think so. I'm free tomorrow."

"Great. I'll see you then," he said before spinning on his heels and walking out the door.

The clock struck midnight, and Skeeter was walking on air. She was excited, nervous, and ecstatic all at the same time. Her stomach spun around, tempting her to sit down and take a breath. She couldn't believe Johnny had moved in, and she had a chance to talk to him.

The bell above the door chimed, and in walked the sheriff of the undead town. He wore a shiny badge on his chest, and a big belt over his dark pants.

"Hey, J.P.," Skeeter greeted and skated back behind the counter to prepare his coffee. She knows just how he likes it: straight black, with an old fashioned donut.

"Skeet, you look good," he said in his thick Texas accent. He's a big burly guy, publicly known as The Big Bopper.

"I feel good. Almost off," she said.

"Day off tomorrow?" He asked, taking a bite of his donut.

"Yes, sir."

"Did you hear of that newcomer? He was stumbling around town, not knowing what was going on. Poor guy."

"Yeah, he was in here earlier."

"Did you know him?" He asked.

"In his actor days," she chuckled, grabbing a day-old donut from the cabinet and ate it next to J.P., "he got older."

"It's unfortunate, a real shame," he said, sipping his coffee. "He was great."

"Hear from Etta recently?" She asked, referring to Etta James. "She said that she was going to come by and donate her mixer."

"You know how she is," J.P. said, putting down his empty mug. "She forgets easily."

"I know," she said. "Oh, I haven't seen Ricky for a while. What's with that?"

"Nelson?" He asked.

"Yeah."

"Something about watching his cholesterol," J.P. chuckled heartily. "He's goes to that salad place now. They do smoothies too."

"I miss him," Skeeter laughed.

"I'll tell him to stop on by."

The door chimed again, and in walked Skeeter's replacement for the night shift: River Phoenix.

"About time," Skeeter joked. "I was about to leave John hanging."

"I was only a couple minutes late," River chuckled. He fixed his bow tie, and tightened his suspenders. Skeeter untied her apron and tossed it towards River, who caught it with his teeth.

"Keep up that energy," Skeeter laughed, "it's been real busy."

"Heard that Johnny Depp is here now. Damn."

"I know. He's sweet," Skeeter said, taking off her roller skates and putting them in her bag and taking out her winter boots instead.

"We were friends, you know. A while ago," River pointed out. "He owned a club in L.A. I used to go to there with my brother."

"Yeah? Was it fun?" She absentmindedly asked.

River sucked his cheek in between his teeth and said, "maybe a little too much fun."

"Oh—oh." Her face turned bright red. "I'm so sorry."

River laughed and said, "you're good. Go home. Have a good day off."

"Will do, good night."

"Good night."

Skeeter took her bag and left the restaurant. The town is small enough to not have a car, but it's slowly growing bigger and bigger. Everyone here knows that they're dead, and everyone knows that Skeeter is a living. They all treat her like one of their own, protecting her and try to give her the most normal life possible.

Skeeter was practically skipping her way home at the thought of going out for dinner the next day with Johnny Depp.