A/N: Yes, I know it's kind of overused. No, I don't really care. Not entirely positive I have all the quote timings right, although I should, seeing as I've seen the movie 11 times. I have a kind of odd idea for continuing this, so review and tell me what you think!
DISCLAIMER: I don't own PotC or any of its characters or the lines that I use in this chapter when the characters talk.
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"Thank you, Jack."
The woman's voice startled me from the gloomy depths of my plan, though I still thought of it as I responded. The remaining dregs of the thought weighed heavily in the sentence: "We're not out of this yet, luv."
I planned something that she would most definitely not agree with, something that the slightest talk could have persuaded me out of; something that nobody would ever think I was capable of doing.
Davy Jones's kraken was after me. Thirteen years ago, I had thought that I could talk my way to the upside of my debt when the time came. I had been wrong. Wrong in a way that placed me in mortal peril.
As Elizabeth drew closer to me, I found myself almost not wanting her to. But she stopped, looking slightly sad and apologetic. "You came back," she said with a half-hearted smile. "I always knew you were a good man."
It was what I wanted. The compass…it finally worked…but I'm still not sure what it was pointing to, I wanted to tell her. Was it the Pearl, or-
Oh bloody hell, she's getting closer. I can't do this to her. This isn't right…
The soft touch of Elizabeth's lips on mine sent an electrical bolt shooting through my body. I closed my eyes as she convinced me that yes, this was the right thing, and no, I wasn't going to carry out my plan. Tangling my fingers in her hair, I allowed her to lead me where she would, putting in a slight but effective word here and there and enjoying the fact that I was really loved by someone.
Elizabeth pressed my back hard against the mast. The whole weight of the last few minutes' events came crashing down. Abandon ship…or abandon hope. I would carry out my plan.
Ah, but what of Elizabeth and hers? I knew what she was going to do. I knew she was plotting to chain me to the mast and leave me for dead. But what I wasn't expecting was what happened afterwards. So I let her do it. I almost wanted her to do it, beseeched her, even.
Slowly, tantalizingly, I allowed my left arm to drop, in perfect position beside the handcuff. I smirked slightly as her hand moved down my arm in the same fashion, as though striving to unleash as much passion as possible before she did it.
Still, part of me didn't want her to do it, just to stay in this one moment forever until the kraken came and tore us to pieces only to separate us. Part of me wanted to chain her right beside me, but I knew I could never do it. Instead, I raised my eyebrows as her hand faltered on mine, as though wanting to hold it. Then she fumbled a little with the handcuff before it shut, with an icy sting, on my wrist.
Elizabeth pulled away with determination overcoming her apparent reluctance. I merely continued my knowing smirk. "It's after you, not the ship," she said quietly, almost pleading. "It's not us. But this is the only way, don't you see?"
I stared into her eyes with an intensity that seemed to almost make her uncomfortable. I knew the one word that would send her spiraling down into a blackest abyss of sorrow and regret that she would hate me for forever. But she would remember me for it as well. I said it in a deep, quiet voice, reserved for private moments between only she and I: "Pirate."
Elizabeth's eyes revealed that mentally, she was reeling from the blow, spinning dizzily, falling into uncertainty and confusion, and I reveled in my ability to make her do so as I held her gaze irresistibly. Then her look of confidence and stability returned, along with something bitterly cold and hard that fell behind her eyelids. Torturously, she touched her nose to mine.
"I'm not sorry."
I was painfully aware of the fact that, my smile fading quickly, my entire heart was pouring into Elizabeth's hungry gaze in those few moments that we were locked in place by some unseen irons that sprang up from the deck and held us both tight. The feeling of betrayal seared hot in my gut, burning a hole in the bottom of my heart, as she gave me one last emotionless look, turned around, and left me to die.
Strangely, I almost felt proud, as though I'd taught her well, and I made to follow her. The chain coldly reminded me that I wasn't going anywhere near her again. So I stood, as close to her as the chain's steely grip would allow, and watched her go almost sorrowfully.
Elizabeth disappeared down the ladder, and I heard Will ask coldly where I was. There was a short pause before she replied that I had elected to stay behind to give them all a chance. I nearly laughed out loud as I realized that she had repeated my exact plan; the plan that had formed as the steady compass needle pointed me back to the devil's maw.
A sudden ache flooded my limbs; not a physical ache, but the kind that could make most any grown man curl up on the deck and scream their throat raw. Through the white-hot feeling of loss, I told myself that I would still carry out my plan, but I would not wait idly, chained to the mast of my own ship. No. Captain Jack Sparrow did not go down without a fight.
The loss slowly turned into a furious determination. I tugged fruitlessly at the chain, cursing.
"Bugger, bugger, bugger, bugger, bugger."
It rattled and made angry red marks on my wrist, nothing more.
The deck tilted. I leaned forward on my toes to keep balance. A single cannonball rolled past my boot.
I looked down at the lantern and grinned inwardly. Just what I needed. I unsheathed my cutlass and leaned out towards it. The tip wouldn't quite reach the handle of the lantern. Now slightly desperate, tongue between my teeth, I stretched my arms out as long as they would go. I was rewarded with the little sound of metal on metal. I caught the lantern up, swung it around, and smashed it on the mast, letting the oil dribble onto my wrist.
Suddenly, I was determined not to die because a woman I…trusted…had distracted me. That was not how I was going down, oh no. Now more desperate than ever, I began to twist free of the handcuff, pulling as hard as I could without breaking my wrist.
"Come on!" I moaned, twisting frantically. I barely managed to get free, even with the many rings adorning my fingers turned around the wrong way. When I did, I grinned in delight, thinking that I was about to make my most daring escape yet.
Hot, putrid breath on my neck wrenched me back into reality. The kraken had come for me. And here I was, alone and unafraid.
The kraken let loose a mighty roar. Saliva and mucus and God knows what else sprayed from its mouth and lathered me from head to toe. I stood stock still all the while, mouth twisted in disgust, thinking. I wasn't really dying because of Elizabeth. In fact, this had been what I wanted, or so the compass told me. I would be dying as I had wanted to die, and how Elizabeth had wanted me to die: not running away like a coward, but standing and staring proudly into the devil's eyes. So she had done me a favor, really, chaining me to the mast; merely being sure I carried out my plan, even if she hated me and I…didn't hate her.
Bet even so, this stuff all over me was a bit disgusting and unnecessary. I shuddered to think at what was in it and scooped it away from my eyes and mouth. What was all that nonsense Gibbs was telling me about the stench of a thousand rotting corpses? The kraken's breath was really no worse then mine, now I thought about it. What was he trying to say about my breath?
I looked down and grinned. There, sitting on the deck, was my hat: the very hat I had lost when all this trouble started. Yes, covered in slime, but it was still my hat! I picked it up and flicked off the worst of the slime with one graceful swoop of my arm. Placing it on my head, I grinned again as a plan formulated in my mind.
"'Ello, beastie," I said, greeting death gladly and taking a step forward. I unsheathed my cutlass as the kraken's many rows of teeth revealed themselves dauntingly. I walked straight to its mouth, seeming to welcome death.
It was as the mouth closed over me, tearing my skin without mercy, that I reared back with my cutlass.
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A/N: Review and tell me what you think, and I may just elaborate on my odd little idea…