He had finally fought the battle with sleep until the wee hours of the morning when he felt her tossing and turning.

Still, in a sleepy haze, he turned to face her; puzzled by her behavior. She mumbled with distress and whimpered lightly. He lay awake noticing as she lightly brushed against him, her skin was extremely hot.

He gently leaned up on his elbow and reached for her. Her body felt stiff as she shivered and she continued to mumble. He turned away quickly to light the lantern beside him. A warm glow lit enough of the cabin to cast light on her as he looked down and cupped her cheek.

"Tempest, open your eyes," he whispered, growing concerned with the heat on her cheeks.

Her teeth slowly began to chatter and she began to shake. Fever had seared a film of perspiration across her forehead. Her face felt hot to the touch, and her hands that she placed above his, were cold and clammy.

He cursed. His jaw tightened.

He did not need this now. They had nothing on the ship to aid her.

He needed to think. He looked around and immediately looked her way as she whimpered breathlessly.

He stared at her. His fingers raised once more to her cheek and her gaze gently fell on his. The haziness and her lackluster gaze were a silent plea to help her.

With a sigh, he stood up and removed his breeches, slid beneath the sheets, and pulled her flush against him.

He held her tight as she violently shivered in his hold seeking his warmth.

He pressed his lips to her forehead whispering heatedly how stubborn she was for refusing the dry clothing.

Closing his eyes, he felt her shiver more as he rubbed his finger over her bareback; murmuring words of comfort he did not believe she understood. He focused on the unsteady breaths and whispered his prayers for her to recover quickly.

"Do not dare die on me," he whispered. "I beg you."

********

By early dawn, he found himself frantically sponging her off with cool water. To his dismay, her fever was ablaze and rampid that she was now delirious.

He gave strict orders that no one was to enter his cabin. With that, he was confident they would not disobey his orders. He sat beside her and pressed a cool cloth to her brow.

"You must fight this. Is that not what you're good at?" he snapped under his breath. " Fighting? Being stubborn and difficult?" he bit out angrily wishing for the challenging gaze in those eyes of hers to meet his.

He lowered the cloth once more into a bowl of water and slowly pressed it to her fevered skin worried about the rising heat on it. She tossed and turned more. The effort to keep her beneath the sheets was fruitless as she tossed about miserable and drenched in sweat.

Frantically, he needed to think quickly as an agonizing whimper escaped her lips then she hugged herself. Her face contorted with discomfort until he lowered the cool cloth to her shoulders. His gaze lowered to her bare leg as he idly lowered the cloth to it. She settled slightly with the cool cloth there and he realized then that he needed to cool all of her down.

He deliberated on what he was to do. What he should do to help her.

Damn it!!! He stepped away. He looked at her. She was weak, defenseless, and in agony. He bit his lip warring with doubt in his mind. What use was it? For her stubbornness, she most likely would die.

As a heartless sailor he strived to be, his eyes narrowed. He would most likely have to throw her corpse overboard.

He could not do that he did not have the stomach to do it. He stepped closer to her without a second thought, reason won. She was delirious. She will never know.

Carefully he peeled away the twisted sheets until her bare flesh was fully exposed. His breath caught in his chest at such a view.

Rigid to the spot he was mesmerized. His gaze traveled the length of her. Such a tempting beauty he thought as his eyes rested on beautiful round breasts then slowly followed along her slender waist further down to the soft dark curls that covered her sex.

With a curse, he clenched his jaw and pushed away the distracting sinful thoughts that he should not have flowing through his mind. Restlessly, she shivered then and he quickly finished wiping her down.

In that instant, as he reached over her for the tossed sheets, he felt her fingers briefly reach for his arm. He lifted his head and looked over at her.

Glossy eyes looked at him as she slowly licked her reddened lips, parched and dry from fever.

"C.ccold...," she whispered.

With that, he reached for the cover and tucked her snug beneath it. He looked down at her once again and gently pressed the back of his hand to her cheek and flinched snatching them away.

"You should have listened when I said to change out of those wet clothes," he spoke under his breath before standing and turning away.

The possibility of her not surviving this weighed upon his mind. So young and beautiful, she had much to live for. Vibrant and headstrong as ever she was...he shook his head. His thoughts were a never endless battle with his emotions.

He grumbled to himself about his foolish feelings. He could not afford them. Especially not for her where he was concerned. In a few weeks' time, he would be rid of her. After his pardon, he will sail away. A newer life will await him. One he swore to reclaim that was rightfully his.

He turned then to stare intently at her on the bed as she continued to stir restlessly and yank off the sheets. He swallowed hard as his eyes involuntarily fell again to her enticing form. Again, he looked away shaking his head. Clear your head you fool....now is not the time for this you letch.

He walked off towards the far corner to search for clothing. He dressed quickly and pulled on his boots. He thought long and hard about what to do in order to calm her and bring down her fever. They had very few supplies on the ship since Cuthburt abducted him, his men left port without being able to obtain what they needed.

They sailed without the good fortune of a physician, leaving the fate of the wounded to a crew member with decent knowledge to aid the poor soul.

He wiped his fingers in frustration down his face. He needed to go above deck. With that, hesitantly he left the cabin securing the door with a key. He was on edge leaving her like that, but he needed help.

*******

In no time he was above deck facing the worried, concerned gazes of his crewmen. They were hesitant to face their Captain that looked worse for wear from aiding the girl with fever in his cabin.

Some murmured that her affliction was from Malaria.

Others hinted at it being Scurvy...

In their minds, her ailments ranged from a numerous amount of diseases from Rickets to Tyfoid until they were silenced with his fierce bellow.

"Twas the cool water from the sea you dolts, she burns with fever t'is all. There is no rash. No blisterings. No bloody odor....CALM YOURSELVES." he gave Quinn a scowling glare.

Bellamy stepped forward with a grim look "How bad is it, Captain?" He turned his head to his 2nd in command and tightened his jaw. "She burns to the touch, is frail, and is delirious...I fear she will not make it another night if I can not cool her fever," he looked away. He refused to let them see how this all affected him.

"Cap'n give her rum at least to calm her unease. The lass must be puttin up a fair fight," Quinn offered him the large bottle filled with the 'devil's elixir' as they called the brew they made aboard the ship.

He slowly reached for it. He lowered his gaze to look at the skeleton's face with a sword through its eye and shook his head. What a good way to meet St. Peter at the gates than half past your cups and pissy drunk.

Without another word he turned away and went below. Now inside the cabin, he looked towards the bed and his heart sank as could see her struggles more clearly. It weighed more on his heart than the bottle in his hand.

He turned away and grabbed a cup off of his desk and poured the dark liquid into it. He slowly walked over to the bed and knelt beside her. He leaned forward and brushed away the matted hair on her forehead.

"Tempest, I need you to drink this," he said holding the cup to her lips. With his help, he leaned her head up and pressed it to her mouth. Anticipation grew in him when she refused at first and spit some out then he felt satisfied when she took two large gulps and turned her face slowly away.

He pulled back and wet a cloth to clean what little spilled on her and placed her head back on the pillow. Exhausted, he pulled the covers back over her and pulled the chair up to the bed.

He reached for the bottle as well and took a swig of the brew that had become a Godsend and a Journey to hell at the same time for his men and soon will be for her. Nursing the burning feeling coursing down his throat, he watched her fighting her own private delusional hell. A nightmare she must be living he did not doubt. He lived it with tropical fever many years ago.

Deep down he felt sorry for her and the predicament she was in. A hellion she may be but all the same, she was defenseless as any delicate damsel could be. His gaze hazily lifted to her and he placed the bottle on top of the table. It was going to be a long vigil.

He stood once more and stripped down again and climbed beneath the sheets and reclined stiffly at her side.

Swallowing hard he tightened his eyes shut as she burrowed closer to him.

He flinched as the long length of her burning skin touched his. She clung to him in a fierce shiver seeking heat, and he had plenty of it only because hers fanned a flare of desire through him.

With rigid control, he rubbed her back and murmured soothing words to calm her. His body slowly responded to the feverish heat and enticing curves that brushed against him. The way her breasts brushed his chest and her nipples puckered, hardened him and he felt disgusted with his body's betrayal.

The lingering sensation of her lithe form flushed against him created a sinful need. The vile pirate within him needed...(any other would have taken to their carnal desire, he was no different) But as a decent human being beneath it all, he fought desperately for control. She was ill.

With self-recrimination, he shook his head... He was not an animal...

With a cold feeling, he ignored his body's demands and pulled her flush against him in a possessive cocoon of warmth praying and whispering to her for the sake of his sanity to please lie still.

His raging heart and palpable desire could only take so much of this.

Settling closer, determined to get through the night with her in his arms; he tightly shut his eyes and pressed his lips to her temple.

Hot and sticky skin clung to him as a wave of heat and sweat ran down his own body but it did not matter. He continued to caress her and rub her back until her shivering stopped and her breathing calmed to low rhythmic breaths. With a sigh of his own, he lay awake at her side trying to ignore his throbbing erection but all the same, relieved that she was finally asleep.

He slowly pulled away. Unable to relax he turned away to lay on his back. With his unfulfilled release, he inhaled her scent that clung to him and moaned.

He tossed and he turned, ignoring his rigid manhood that after his last attempt of settling between the sheet finally calmed itself. With a gruff mumble, he refused to admit that he had a strange comfort in having her close. In his arms. It was obvious.

He grumbled to himself, cursing himself for being a fool a million times over. With a long-suffering sigh, he turned to his side and pulled her enticing curves flushed against him and enjoyed her soft breaths and searing heat. She will never have to know.... He thought and let his own dreams form as he finally slept.