On the Wings of Angels

Disclaimer -- I don't own a thing.

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It swallowed him whole; its softness closed over his head, cutting off the air his body would desperately need in a few moments. It made him wish he had never listened to that traitor. It made him wish that he hadn't been so foolish. As he sunk into the depths of the ocean, he let himself go. He had failed miserably and he knew it. He dispelled the air in his lungs and let his body rest on the sandy bottom.

He did not fight as water gushed into his lungs, slowly, torturously killing him. This was the death he deserved. A slow and painful death filled with memories of his own betrayal to his own deeply treasured friend. There was no possible way he could ever make up to Bootstrap what he had done. He had thrown the older man's advice away and now he wished he hadn't.

He could feel his soul leaving his body; he knew he would be meeting Davy Jones in just a few more moments of this heart wrenching death. He wanted to cry, and if he did so, no traces could be seen upon his face. And even as he felt those last moments, a hand brushed his face.

He couldn't see what was above him, but an arch of light could be seen, and then wings…but what had wings in the ocean? He asked himself. Whatever it was though, its force gave Jack a new meaning to life, and what he must do in order to make things up to Bill.

Jack hadn't known how he ended up on that spit of island; and he didn't care. All he remembered was the arch of light, and wings that belonged to an Angel. Maybe, Jack wondered briefly, maybe his mother had been right when she told him of angels.

And maybe, he thought as he walked down the beach, maybe an Angel had saved him…