Jack Sparrow-Captain Jack Sparrow, that is, sat lazily on his back as he yawned into the cold, dark night. His hand, o'course, gently cradled a musty, glass bottle. Of what? Does that sort of question even exist? He quietly muttered a tune to hisself, only partially drunk this time, but the manner of which the drink was disappearin', that soon would be rectified. The heavy footsteps of Mr. Gibbs anxiously thundered across the deck, and as they stopped by his head, one eye hesitantly opened.
"Cap'n?" The deep, hoarse voice of his friend..-no, acquaintance, a captain should have standards and the gray-whiskered man shot just barely below them. "Cap'n?" He gently kicked Jack's shoulder when his eye slowly closed for the third time, "Jack."
This prompted him to open both of his dark, brown, beautiful eyes and he stared critically at Mr. Gibbs, though didn't speak.
"Cap'n, the crew has been a bit concerned about…."
Jack thrust himself to sit up and he squinted at his acquaintance, opening his mouth as if to scold, yet quickly he brought the bottle up to his lips and began to chug with gusto.
"Jack." He persisted wearily, and then somewhat snapped, tearing the bottle from of his hand and rose to throw it across the deck. "For the love of Mother and Child, Jack! The bottle is bone-dry! You're not even drinkin' anythin'!"
Some sort of confused whimper escaped Jack's mouth and he stared at his empty hand with very wide eyes. "Well then, why did you eat it all?"
He sighed heavily, "Cap'n, the crew has voiced some concerns." Mr. Gibbs knelt beside him when Jack squinted at his face, "They're worried you're a bit…."
The dark brown eyes immediately darted back to his empty hand, "Thirsty?" He said sadly.
"Mad." Mr. Gibbs blurted, and quickly stuttered a cover, "W-Well, you been lyin' by the wheel for almost three days, just mutterin' some tune to yousself. They think you're..—"
"Happy?" A dumb smile spread across his face, and he began to quietly giggle, opening and closing his hand in front of his acquaintance's face.
Mr. Gibbs stared at him for a few quiet moments, "Insane, sir. You haven't given us any orders ever since you lied down here."
Jack motioned him closer, and he placed his hands on the broad, hefty shoulders, "Here are your orders, Mr. Gibbs." He said quietly, and simultaneously, they both raised their eyebrows in listening, "Go to bed, Mr. Gibbs. Savvy?"
With a heavy sigh, Mr. Gibbs stood up and Jack fell back against the floor, smiling up at him as he watched him shake his head.
"It'll be better in the mornin', Mr. Gibbs!" and his eyes slowly fluttered close, the tune lightly twittering in his head.
Such a curious thing, that tune. How it swept in his ear and begun to spin wildly around the insides of his head. Oh, how it never could be forgotten. Jack's eyes remained closed, peacefully closed, and he listened to the calmness of the sea that surrounded his beautiful ship. His Pearl. His beautiful, dependable….why, sexy even. The soft vibration of a snort tingled in his nose. Sexy. A ship that's sexy? Oh, but if there could only be one, surely his Pearl took the prize. Sexy. He'd remind himself, when holding the wheel in his callused hand, how he'd whisper below anything to be heard, how sexy his ship was.
A small smile came upon him as he slowly drifted into sleep, and absentmindedly he turned his head to the side, and his eyes slowly opened. There lay next to him, there what took in his sight, the face belongin' to hisself.
"Do you think I'm mad?" He whispered, though would later remember how no feeling of a cold breath brushed past his lips.
"No." He responded quickly, and offensively, yet it quickly melted into the same innocent confusion, "Do you think I'm mad?"
"No." He replied confidently, and then they both turned their heads up to the vibrant night sky as it boasted its ocean of stars. "Do you think you're mad?"
There was a pause, and he quietly murmured to himself. "I don't know. Do you? About yousself?"
Jack somewhat pouted, "I don't know."
They both inhaled deeply, and put their focus to the stars. How they shined. Nay. How they roared as vigorous lions that prowled the emptiness, escaping even the touch of darkness. Perhaps they weren't all ruthless beasts. Perhaps there were creatures that clung to the everything and they acted their roars upon the innocent. Perhaps their fangs didn't thirst for blood, but for the opportunity to hide away what once made them so feared and despised. Perhaps they healed and helped. Perhaps they had always watched over him, and guided him. Perhaps he'd meet them one da-
A quiet snore vibrated in the back of his throat, and he felt himself slowly slip from consciousness, drifting in the in-between. The tune gently thrummed in the background.
Frantic shouting from both ends of the console room almost overlapped the straining bellows of the TARDIS. The Doctor attempted to stagger from its throws, yet it inevitably tossed him back hard into one of the chairs.
"Oh, don't do that!"
He sprinted forward once more, and clutched the bar of the scanner, and his eyes darted to Amy Pond, who kept her head in her lap as she sat, clinging to the chair. A small smile spread across his face, his arm thrust a stubbed lever forward, and he began to laugh.
"Come along, Pond! Where's your adventure in crash-landing?"
She combed her hair from her face, pushing against the force that kept her head down and shouted back, "My bruises from last time just started to heal—"
A powerful throw shoved them both to the glass floor of the TARDIS, yet he was only down for a moment until he threw himself back to his feet as the final bellow slowly softened to a purr, the quakes settled.
Amy lifted her head to see the smile fade from his face, and confusion swept over him. She staggered towards him and he nervously twitched when she looked at him expectantly.
"Okay," He quickly takes her hand in his. "I've got goods new, not-so good news, bad news, and horribly-bad news. Which one you like?"
She released a confused, nervous laugh at his dorky smile, and she thought for a moment. "What's the good news?"
Anxiously, he glanced to the TARDIS doors, and nodded his head to himself, "We're alive?"
"Why did that sound more like a question, Doctor?"
His dorky, somewhat concerned smile widened, and he pulled her around the controls as he darted for the TARDIS doors, abruptly stopping without warning and she accidentally crashed into his shoulder.
Amy groaned, and rubbed her sore nose that took the brunt of his stop. "What's the not-so good news?"
He stepped beside her, fishing his arm through a small storage cavity until he retrieved a long, long rope with a hook tethered to the end of it, and he nodded to her encouragingly. "Once the TARDIS is entirely idle, the gravity, er," He stared back at the controls, squinted, and glanced back at her, then down at her waist as he flung the rope around it. "The gravity is going to fail quite soon, or rather, start up correctly, which mea—"
The TARDIS reverted to a hum and the release of its stabilizers sent them slipping down towards the console. With an immediate movement, he trailed up the floor on his hands and feet as it quickly began to stand up against him as a wall, and tossed the hook through curved bar by the doors.
He gripped the rope, staring down to watch Amy as she continued to fall, and for a flash, his mind pictured her impaled against the various levers. Though before the twelve-inches of that occurrence dwindled away, he quickly wrapped the loose-falling rope around his free wrist until it compensated and strangled her still.
He gritted his teeth. Hard. He closed his eyes to the pain that tore through his skin and constricted a crackle through his bones.
"You all right, Pond?" He shouted down at her, "You need to climb up the rope, preferably now!"
His heavy groaning with each breath gave him something to focus on, as the pain slowly became more noticeable and excruciating, he continued to yell at her…...encouragingly and with the best intentions, of course. Though he was quite impressed with how fast she scaled up the rope, her long legs left dangling, relying solely on her upper arm strength, and she made it up to him in no more than about thirty-seconds. And as the rope had tightened with each one of her strenuous pulls, he was grateful for it to have stopped.
Amy looked at his wrist frantically as she saw the blood had now started to seeped through the rope, yet he forced his best "calm" smile and lifted his head to motion towards the doors.
"Climb up past me, Pond." He said in a huff, and blinked as fast and as hard as whatever it took to have another thing to focus on other than the pain.
As she slid her arm up past his, she gripped the rope and pulled herself further up.
He released a loud groan, relieved from the weight, and he glanced up only to be slapped in the cheeks with red as Amy's arse lifted up past his face, and for the split second that he is entirely distracted, his gripped loosened, and his palms burned as he slightly slid down the rope.
Amy had only caught this in her peripheral vision, and without a second thought, in the same moment she lunged for the Doctor's hand with one arm and she gripped the curved bar with the other. The hook almost immediately slipped through and her shoulders stretched roughly apart at the new weight of herself and him.
The Doctor yelled out from the pain of her hand squeezing around his bloodied wrist, and she felt it slowly stain into her skin.
"Let go!" He roared as she looked down at him from the excruciating strain that throbbed through her muscles. "Pond, let go!"
Amy ignored him, and started to swing her legs up to the bar opposite of her, until her boot slipped in the curve and she smiled victoriously as she steadied herself to reach for his other arm.
His breath had become raspy and a faint line of blood trailed outside of his mouth from the pressure of which he had bit down from the pain.
"Let go, Pond!" He yelled again, and slowly tried to shake from her grip.
Impatient from his constant shouting, she whipped her hand back down at him, and barked back, "No, Doctor! Never! Now shut the hell up and let me think this through!"
He pouted from her outburst, and immediately an idea shot in his head, feeding his dangling arm into one of his coat pockets, he pulled out a small round device.
With her free leg, she kicked the latch off on the TARDIS doors, looked down at the Doctor, expecting to see him either drowning in humiliation or beaming from being so impressed. When her eyes found him, she saw neither on his face. Just the dumb smile that she had seen previously, and it frustrated her.
She huffed an exasperated sigh, "All right, Doctor! On the count of three, I'm gonna…." She glanced back up the doors in low confidence, yet hid it the moment she glanced back at him. "I'll throw you up through the doors, yeah?"
He chuckled through his teeth, eyeballing the device he began to caress with his fingers, and he finally glanced up. "All right, Pond. Give it your best shot."
Amy gritted into an angered smile, and dug her nails into his wrist as hard as possible that could be taken as accidental or unintentional, yet his shouting, "Aah!", they both knew it was to remind him that she was saving him from that pain. A bit conceited, sure. But when would she ever get this chance again? She only partially allowed herself to believe it was the simple matter of getting back at his carelessness, but there was just something about it that she almost…liked? Eh, she'd settle that later, now was the time so show him up. With one more tightening around his wrist, this time out of steadying their grip, but she still stifled a smile at his, "OW! BLOODY HELL, POND! STOP IT!". She inhaled, and she felt her muscles slowly move to constrict together and the force of his weight diminished and her eyes watched him slowly move towards her, soon passing her, his mouth quietly whispering as his hand came to her face, holding the device.
"Anti-gravity manipulator." He said in almost a giddy tone.
However, before either could respond, the Doctor slowly glanced up to see himself speeding towards the TARDIS doors.
"Oh." was all he could mutter before his head bashed through them and the momentum sent himself flying through the open air, flailing like some flightless bird, and sounding like one too.
Amy grabbed the outside edge of the TARDIS, and pulled herself up, toppling onto the soaked deck. She tilted her head, and almost apathetically as she watched the Doctor fall from the sky, landing up by the helm of the pirate ship. She felt somewhat bad as she felt the fall vibrate through the wood, but she'd feel bad later, at least for a few quick moments she was going to remain where she was to watch the dark night's blanket explode with its stars.