A Civilization Gone with the Wind
Disclaimer: I own neither Pirates of the Caribbean, nor Gone with the Wind
Tomorrow is Another Day
A/N: I decided to write a series of PotC oneshots with titles that are qoutes from Gone with the Wind! You don't have to have read or seen Gone with the Wind to read this. These oneshots might be connected somewhat, but they probably won't go in choronological order. This one is about Jack and the mutiny, but most are going to feature Will and Elizabeth as well as Jack.
Jack was sitting on the shore looking out at the sea. He held a solitary bottle of rum tightly, as though his life depended on it. The sun had set half an hour ago, and the air was beginning to get cooler, but the sand was still hot. The waves lapped gently at his feet.
The only thing Jack felt grateful for at the moment was the rum. It was by a miraculous stroke of luck that he had found it at all, and his luck had failed him of late. He had stumbled and fallen over the ring to the trap door hidden in the sand, and, cursing, opened it to find a store of rum. If there was rum, that meant that someone would come for it soon, and that meant a way off this accursed island and to the Pearl… No, not to the Pearl. That way was closed to him.
Jack shook his head and put one hand to his forehead. He didn't want to think about it now. Not while the pain of betrayal and mutiny was so very near. He took another swig of rum. It helped dull the pain. It dulled the rest of his senses as well, but he didn't care. He had never felt so utterly alone in the world. And Jack had never quite trusted anyone, not even himself.
He buried his free hand in the almost-hot sand and clenched it until he felt every grain rasping against his skin. He couldn't believe that this had happened. He had never trusted his crew very much, but he had never expected this. Barbossa had always been a nasty piece of work, but nothing that had happened recently hinted at a mutiny.
Perhaps what hurt most was to see Bootstrap Bill standing by and not making a single move in his defense. Bootstrap had always been his friend. He might be a rather too-honest man, but he was Jack's friend none the less. Bootstrap wasn't really part of the mutiny, but he had stood by and let it all happen.
Jack bit his lip. He couldn't think of it now, but he had to. The memories kept on coming back to him. Bootstrap was the last person Jack would have suspected of this. He remembered the men visiting the brothels in Tortuga, and Bootstrap always keeping away, never saying a word, faithful to his wife somewhere in England. He remembered Bootstrap telling him about his little son he had left behind, Will. No, Bootstrap being part of the mutiny still didn't seem possible.
Jack felt something behind his eyes. It couldn't be tears. Of course not. He hadn't cried since he was five. He took another hungry gulp of rum instead.
Hours later, Jack was still sitting on the beach, looking out onto the sunrise. The sunrise always seemed to bring some hope to the world, however dismal everything was. Jack's eyes, aching with unshed tears and strained with a sleepless night, were watching the sunrise, and the sun that was warming the ocean and shore about his seemed to be warming his heart too.
He would get the Black Pearl back. She would wait for him. She was his ship and he was her captain. They were one and the same. He would get her back. But first he had to get off this accursed island. Not not, though. He was tired, and he need sleep. Tomorrow. He would start on the quest for his ship tomorrow. Today could wait.