You were locked up in a cell on the Endeavour for a couple of days now. Maybe longer, you didn't know for sure. Every night, Lord Beckett would come down into the brig to give you food and water. His expression never giving away what his thoughts were whenever he paid you these little visits. You had no idea why he would even do anything like this for a prisoner, let alone a pirate in the first place. It just didn't make sense. You were snapped out of your thoughts as you hear those familiar footsteps approaching your cell again. Beckett stopped in front of it, holding a lantern in one hand and food in the other. The dim light casting shadows over his face, making it even harder to see his expression in the semi-darkness. His eyes, cold as ever, were also betraying no emotion as he sets down the plate of food and pushes it through the bars.