Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, ride or otherwise. Though I probably own too much merchandise.
CAUTION THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR AT WORLD'S END.
A/N: I was a bit sad when I saw the end of the third movie and there was no closure for Davy Jones and Calypso...poor Davy--he got so screwed in that movie. Still loved it, but felt so bad for him. Anyway, here's a short Davy Jone's centric fic about his death. It takes place after he falls from the deck of the Dutchman into the eye of the whirlpool.
"Calypso..."
It was less rhetorical than it should have been...but David Micheal Jones had always been more inclined to the literal, violent though it had been. When he fell in love, he fell body and soul—quite literally. He devoted himself, entirely, to her will.When she spurned him, he locked his heart away...the scar across his left breast still stung against the water. And now, at the end of all things, he felt his heart breaking...and his soul with it.
Moments slipped by like eternity—the years of his life stretched to span and cushion his fall. His limbs were numb but his vision was clearer than it ever had been. All plans, all hatred, all sorrow faded as seconds slipped by and walls of water gathered above him.
Pain ripped through him as his body crashed against the rocks—broken and limp. His vision twisted and he took his terminal breath. He held it for eternity as he stared up at the grey sky above. For the briefest second, his treacherous soul flashed her face across his world.
Illusive beauty, wreathed in light and clad in stars danced before his eyes. The image of her turning in mid-dawn light—when he had first set eyes upon her. Dawn had wrapped its rosate fingers around her, the ocean framed her, and the sand pooled more elegantly than the finest silks. Her beauty took hold of his heart then, literally, and had never released it.
Years jumped and twisted behind his vision and the pain of his heart returned to his soul. Tears clouded his vision, but did not mar her beauty. Regret consumed him—why had she left him? He was truly unworthy. He had failed her. He had left her. He had condemned her. He had called for her blood. And why? Because he loved her more than the sun and moon? Beyond the stars and sea? He held greater than faith in her...and never would he reap the same.
Anger was long forgotten, though he was shamed and desperate. Time stretched for him, as it always had. Years of bitter anger and twisting hatred returned to him abnormally long seconds—halting the world dead for him. But even the great sway of time could not stay death—moments escaped and slid past him. Slowly at first, but soon they burst their damn and overcame him.
Water swirled and his vision went dark—her face forever burned into his eyes. It was with his terminal breath that he begged forgiveness, gave up salvation, and confessed even unto himself.
"...I...love...you..."