A/N: This is a songfic about Jack during DMC. So obviously there are some spoilers. I rewrote the scene and Jack's feelings during it. Originally I thought Jack was taking things too nonchalantly, I mean it is Jack, but still. I thought it would be better if he actually did get scared for once.
I'm not so sure how I feel about this story, I do know that I like the ending though. Please review and give me your honest opinion, as always.
This story is dedicated to my dearest friend Robin-Sparrow XD
Disclaimer: Jack and Bootstrap belong to Disney. And The Pearl belongs to Jack! The lyrics belong to Three Days Grace.
Your bottle's almost empty,
You know this can't go on
Because of you my mind is always racing;
The needles' breaking your skin,
The scar is sinking in...
Jack Sparrow certainly did not expect to be spending his evening speaking with his former crewmate, Bootstrap Bill Turner. Especially considering the fact that Bootstrap Bill really should have been dead.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of your carbuncle?" Jack asked.
While it was hard to read Bootstrap's expressions now that he was in such a…state…even a blind man could sense the grim expression his features now held. "He sent me. Davy Jones."
Jack swallowed hard. Not now, please not now. Things were finally starting to shape up. He had his beloved ship and a mostly decent crew. He was finally truly happy. "Ah. So it's you, then. He shanghaied you into service, eh?" he asked, trying to hide his true fearful emotions.
"I chose it," he said, looking at Jack sadly. "I'm sorry for the part I played in the mutiny against you, Jack." Suddenly a small crab scuttled out of his sleeve, and to Jack's disgust, Bootstrap promptly ate the poor bugger. "I stood up for ya. Everything went wrong after that. They strapped me to a cannon; I ended up on the bottom of the ocean, the weight of the water crushing down on me. Unable to move, unable to die, Jack... and I thought that even the tiniest hope of escaping this fate, I would take it. I would trade anything for it."
Jack closed his eyes; he knew the feeling. He knew what it was like to want - no, to need to trade everything you had… for everything you wanted, even though in your heart you knew that in the end you'd be left with nothing. "It's funny what a man will do to forestall his final judgment," he replied softly.
Bootstrap looked at him, knowingly. "You made a deal with him, too, Jack. He raised the Pearl from the depths for you; thirteen years you've been Captain."
Jack opened his mouth to argue, but Bootstrap cut him off. "Jack... you won't be able to talk yourself out of this one. The terms would apply to me, apply to you, as well. One soul, bound to crew a hundred years upon his ship."
The blunt honesty that Bootstrap threw at him caught Jack off guard, but only for a moment. "Yes, but The Flying Dutchman already has a Captain, so there's really…"
Bootstrap glared at him. "Then it's the Locker for you!" he exclaimed. "Though this is terrible, the leviathan will find you, and drag the Pearl back to the depths... and you along with it."
Jack closed his eyes. Not the Pearl. Please... Leave her alone. "Any idea when Jones might release said terrible beastie?" he asked softly, unable to make eye contact with Bootstrap.
"I already told you, Jack. Your time is up." He grabbed Jack's hand. "It comes now. Drawn with ravenous hunger for the man what bears the black spot."
Jack looked down and, to his horror, he saw a disgusting, hairy, black spot start to spread against his palm. A black spot was a pirate's death sentence. When he looked back up, Bootstrap had disappeared, but that was certainly the last thing on his mind at the moment.
And now your trip begins, but
It's all over for,
It's all over for...
How had it finally of come to this? For 29 long years he had escaped his demons, no matter what they happened to be. He had always been one step ahead of them. But now things seemed to be taking a different route, a turn for the worse. His luck was running out, and at the very worst of times. The devil himself was on his tail, and Jack was stuck facing a downward spiral.
You,
For you...
When you're on the edge and falling off,
It's all over for you,
For you...
When you're on the edge and falling off,
It's all over...
He had worked so hard to build his life, like a brick wall. But now it seemed that some devious little fellow was having a mighty fine time sabotaging it, pulling away at its bottom brick by brick. Jack could feel each bit of hope escape him, much like the figurative bricks. He knew that, without the support they provided, the wall would eventually crash.
He had his crew, his newfound friends Will and Elizabeth, and - most importantly - his ship.
The Pearl. He would literally trade his soul for her. Ironically, that's what got him into this mess. He had lost her once, and begged Davy Jones for another chance with her. And then he blew it and lost her to Barbossa.
Why now? He had finally gotten her back. He had only had four months with her, to touch her helm, to just be with her again, and already he could see her being swept away from under his feet.
I know what runs through your blood...
You do this all in vain,
Because of you my mind is always racing;
And it gets under my skin,
To see you giving in,
And now your trip begins, but
It's all over for,
It's all over for...
Davy Jones was a monster, no doubt. He took advantage of human fears and desires, and manipulated wants and needs to his will. And yet, to Jack, he now seemed indestructible. For how could you kill the sea itself?
He couldn't imagine a century of living under that thing's orders. Hell, he had never even imagined living 100 years! But 100 years on The Flying Dutchman would be hell. Not "like" hell…hell. He would be a slave to his will, without even the comfort of a near death.
You,
For you...
When you're on the edge and falling off,
It's all over for you,
For you...
When you're on the edge and falling off,
It's all over...
He had betrayed The Pearl. It was his fault she was going to die. He had brought her to life, hoping he'd be able to find that a way out of their seemingly inevitable fate. And he had failed her. Thanks to him, her beauty would forever be wasted on the bottom of the sea, a fate that seemed even worse than his own.
He would never again stroll down her black deck. Never again feel the wind in his face or the spray of the sea as he looked out at the setting sun.
He knew The Pearl, better than he knew any person, that at least was for sure. He knew her down to every grain of wood, and every stitch in her sails. She was a living, breathing thing to him. And she was going to die, and there was nothing he could do about it.
And now you're dead inside;
Still you wonder why
It's all over...
And now you're dead inside;
Still you wonder why
It's all over…
Maybe he deserved this. He had done a great many terrible things, and if allowed to live as a free man he'd surely do more.
His eyeliner began to sting as tears welled in his deep brown eyes. Freedom. It was something he never once took for granted. It was why he sailed the seas. He had once said that not all treasure was silver and gold. Well, freedom was his treasure. He had never known such freedom as he had as a pirate... freedom to go wherever the wind could take him. Even at the mercy of a vicious storm, he knew he still had his freedom.
But as the sand drained from his hourglass, and bricks were being plucked from his wall, he knew it would soon be all gone.
And now you're dead inside;
Still you wonder why,
When you're on the edge and falling off,
It's all over for you...
And now you're dead inside;
Still you wonder why,
When you're on the edge and falling off,
It's all over for you...
And now you're dead inside;
Still you wonder why
It's all over...
He leaned his head against the The Pearl, sobbing, just like she was an old friend that was offering a shoulder for him to cry on. In that moment he could almost hear her thoughts, and feel her emotions. She did not blame him, but thanked him for giving her a second chance. She said that even though their time together had been short, it had been worthwhile and she did not regret it, no matter what end lay ahead of them. She would face it with him.
For what seemed like a long moment he felt the sensation of arms around his shoulders. And could feel a heartbeat against his chest. As if for just a second she truly was there, not just as a ship, but as something more.
Finally he looked up, and turned away from her walls. A new fire had rekindled in his heart. He would not go down without a fight. He never had, and there was no reason to start now.
"On deck all hands! Make faster -- gasket! On deck! Scurry! Scurry on! Move it! Move it! I want movement!" he shouted.
For you see, Captain Jack Sparrow was a great legend.
And great legends never die.