Disclaimer: I don't have permission to be writin' this, mate.
Author's Note: Some ideas presented in this oneshot may be offensive to those particularly religious types. Before you post angry reviews proclaiming my eternal damnation, please bear in mind that this is just a work of fiction, and has no bearing on reality whatsoever. ;)
Spoiler Warning: I trust that only hardcore Pirates fans would be reading fanfiction about Pirates, and any hardcore Pirates fan ought to have seen all three Pirates movies by now. However, this story does make reference to the second and third movies, though it is set between the two.
Jack Sparrow loved his hat, perhaps more than was considered couth for a man to love an inanimate object. His hat had once belonged to his father, and had given it to Jack before Jack began his first job as a sailor at sea. That was the last time he ever saw his father. When he finally returned to England years and years later, it was the news of the disappearance of both his parents that drew him back to the city he so loathed. He was nearly as attached to his tricorner leather hat as he was to his precious ship, the Black Pearl. His crew knew this, and Jack could still recall with ease the expressions on their faces when his hat fell overboard that fateful night on the Pearl when he learned the Kraken was after him. It felt like years had passed since he'd contradicted Gibbs' orders to turn the ship around to pick up his hat, when the crew all stared at him as if he'd just declared he was going to give up piracy and become a priest.
But now that he thought about it, it had only been a few days, hadn't it? His mind was utterly numb as he stared at the slime-covered hat the monstrous leviathan had just regurgitated at his feet. "Oh" seemed like such an inadequate response to finding his beloved hat, yet Jack vaguely dwelled on the irony of being overjoyed at finding his hat when a huge monster was about to eat him, hat and all. Nevertheless, he bent over and picked up the slippery hat and jammed it on his head. A surge of relief washed over him- he felt whole once again, with this momento of his father resting in its proper place. Once again, he thought about how ironic it was that he felt complete, just before he would likely be chewed up into little bits and slowly digested.
The ship groaned ominously as the Kraken's tremendous weight tilted the great vessel on its side and strained its ribs. The Black Pearl was destroyed. There were little fires burning all over the deck, debris littered on every square inch of the decks he once kept so spotlessly clean. The Pearl was a gift from his wealthy uncle after Jack had written to him, announcing that the East India Trading Company had offered him a position as captain running goods to the American colonies. Jack had accepted his uncle's gift gladly- he had always admired the beautiful ships his uncle owned, much like a young farm boy admires the fine horses bred by his father and wishes he could have one for his own, but knows he must never expect such a gift. Without a doubt, the Pearl surpassed even the finest piece of horseflesh ever to trot across the face of the earth, and, pardon the pun, blew every other ship out of the water.
Yes, Jack treasured his ship above all the items he possessed, and he possessed quite a few. He hadn't pursued his first mate all those years to regain a trifle, after all. It grieved him deeply to see his ship in such a dreadful state. His late uncle would be ashamed if he saw how Jack had treated his ship… Fortunately, Jack didn't believe in an afterlife. It would be rather difficult for a pirate to justify what he did if he believed some higher power would judge him and his actions. Besides, he hated being judged in the first place. Allowing other people's opinions of him to dictate his actions wouldn't be freedom at all. And Jack prided himself on being free.
The Pearl groaned more softly this time, in her death throes. Jack realized his whole life really had flashed before his eyes, without noticing it for what it was while it happened- he often wondered whether that happened when one was faced with mortal peril. He never expected there would be time to recall his whole, rather lengthy life just before he died, but the few seconds that had really passed had stretched into what felt like hours. He recalled glimpses of the littlest things he'd long forgotten, such as how his mother always smelled of lavender, the flavor of rancid rum, the feeling of elation when he'd first stepped behind the Pearl's wheel. He'd always imagined his death would be a heroic one, where he was tragically wounded during battle and lingered for days while his anxious crew hovered nearby waiting for news of their captain. They would grieve something terrible for their quirky yet brave captain who had given his own life to save that of the little cabin boy who was in the wrong place at the wrong time… He'd never dreamt, not even in his wildest dreams- and his dreams were typically pretty wild- that he'd be devoured by a giant octopus. He gazed into the yawning chasm dotted with hundreds of teeth, each as big as his head, before him, and felt oddly calm. In spite of the strange circumstances, it felt right, that he should go down with his ship, even if the ship was sinking because a huge leviathan sent by Davy Jones was pulling it down to the depths. Perhaps that was why he couldn't bear rowing to safety while his ship was torn to pieces.
His hand flew to his side, where another of his treasured possessions resided- his sword. This had belonged to his mother's father, who was a knight in service to the Crown for many years. Jack recalled that the sword had always lain in repose in a glass coffin atop the mantelpiece in the parlor, retired after many faithful years of service to his grandfather. He somewhat understood the reasoning behind this, and occasionally felt pangs for bringing the sword out of retirement to suit his own ends, but he reasoned himself that such a magnificent artifact, beautifully crafted and well cared for, deserved to see more battle. The sword was one of the things left in the empty house when Jack returned to England, and Jack, being a pirate, couldn't help but take advantage of such a boon and made it his weapon of choice. Well done, good and faithful servant! Jack thought as he drew his sword a final time, unintentionally quoting Biblical verse in his head. We'll go down together, you an' I an' me hat. In his final moments, it comforted him to know that he had tokens of his mother and of his father at his side.
A slow grin spread across his face as he advanced towards the leviathan, which was slowly bearing down upon him as he wasted precious seconds immersed in thought. "'Ello, beastie," he drawled, suave and debonair to the end. Only Jack Sparrow could possibly pull such a thing off while covered in slime. He knew he had no hope of survival, not against all those teeth… but perhaps he could do some damage, he and his grandfather's sword, as he was devoured, to avenge his poor ship's demise. His final thought as the creature engulfed him was one of smugness; that he had, in the end, managed to thwart Davy Jones, even if he hadn't managed to secure his own life. He didn't know who had the heart, but he knew somehow that Jones didn't have it. And he felt satisfied, knowing he had left an indelible mark upon at least one being on this earth.
He would have been lying if he said death didn't hurt, but the pain didn't last very long. The one fortunate thing about going into an empty battle with a large beast with lots of sharp, pointy teeth is that it will ultimately be a quick battle and a quick death. It was so fast, in fact, that when he found himself floating in a vast expanse of empty blackness, he thought at first that he had somehow survived the passage through the Kraken's mouth and was in its stomach. That is, until he realized he had no sense of feeling in his body whatsoever, and if he had survived, he would be hurting a lot more. "Well, this is interesting," he remarked casually, glancing about at his surroundings. "Guess there is an afterlife after all… No' quite how I might've imagined it, though."
"But I understood you did not believe in an afterlife, Jack Sparrow," a clear musical female voice remarked in Jack's ear.
Jack jumped- or rather, he would have if he had any sense of a body. "'S why I said might've," he replied uneasily, scanning the empty firmament for the source of the voice, his tone betraying his surprise. "Who- what- where are you?"
"Right here," the warm feminine voice replied, and Jack was suddenly aware of a presence behind him. He spun his being around to investigate, and was greeted by a woman, clothed in flowing pale blue garments. She was simultaneously plain and beautiful- even a seasoned womanizer like Jack, who had more experience than most men could boast at sizing up anything lacking a Y chromosome, couldn't decide whether she was beautiful or not. Her eyes exactly matched the hue of the fabric she wore, and they twinkled and danced with as much warmth as her voice did. Her hair was a rather nondescript sort of dark brown that reached just past her shoulders. She had a distinct air of humbleness about her, yet she was somehow elegant. Even though Jack had yet to come to a decision regarding her beauty, he found himself without a voice for a moment.
Once he had finally regained his ability to speak, he slowly asked, "Where am I, then?" He felt distinctly awkward- he'd been around women for decades and he'd never lost the ability to speak before. Not to mention the fact that he relied heavily on his talent for talking quickly to confuse enemies and charm friends or potential company. He was bursting with questions, but something told him it was best to ask them one at a time.
"You are in a pre-Limbo of sorts," the woman replied, her voice echoing slightly in the emptiness around them. "Awaiting your final judgment."
"A pre-limbo?" Jack repeated skeptically. He'd never heard anything about a pre-limbo. "Isn't that what ye do in limbo?"
The woman looked amused. "No. Limbo is where you go if, in simplest terms, the good and bad are perfectly balanced. Of course, it is not all as simple as good versus bad… there is a significant grey area. It is all rather difficult to explain."
"Oh," Jack replied blankly. "So… are ye an angel, then?"
The woman smiled. "Yes."
"An angel, eh?" Jack muttered, eyeing her suspiciously for a moment. "So where's yer halo, then?" He gestured towards her distinctly halo-free head.
"Halos are a pure invention of the human imagination," the woman answered simply. "Some artist many years ago decided it would be easier to distinguish between holy and lay persons in his painting if he gave the holy ones a halo. Real angels do not have them."
"Oh," Jack said again, struck rather dumb by all this. "This isn' really-"
"How you pictured it?" the angel suggested, smiling slightly. "I thought you did not believe in the afterlife."
"I don't- er, I didn't," Jack insisted. "It'd be a bi' difficult for me not to believe in the afterlife now. I am standing in it, after all."
"But before you came here, you always insisted you did not believe in an afterlife," the angel reminded him gently. "The way you talk now indicates otherwise."
Jack eyed her warily for a moment before answering. "Will it count against me?" he finally inquired.
The angel laughed, a soft, warm, tinkling sound that melted away any misgivings Jack had. "Phalen is much more understanding than one might think."
"Who's Phalen?" Jack asked sharply, his suspicions returning.
"The being you humans call God," the angel replied patiently.
"Phalen, eh?" Jack replied, raising an eyebrow. "So God is a-"
"Woman, yes," the angel answered, a slight smirk crossing her face. "Everyone seems to think God is a man. Tell me, do you really think a man could handle being in charge of the whole universe?"
"Well, I…" Jack found himself stumped, and in any case, thought it wise to refrain from arguing about the organizational talents of men with this angel.
"I tell you, a man is far too disorganized and insensitive to ever have so much responsibility," the angel affirmed, chuckling. "The father of the universe? Please. The universe would have crumbled eons ago with a man running things. God is a woman."
"A woman," Jack repeated blankly, trying to wrap his mind around the idea. "A woman. God is a woman."
"Call her Phalen," the angel advised. "She does not like being called God. Implies masculinity."
"A woman named Phalen is in charge of the universe," Jack murmered distantly. "I must be-"
"You are not dreaming, you are in pre-limbo," the angel interrupted.
"Pre-limbo. O' course," Jack muttered. "I'm dead. An' God is a woman." He thought about rubbing his eyes, but remembered he didn't have a body. "How come ye're all solid-like?" he suddenly asked accusingly.
"Do not worry," the angel replied, smiling. "I can see you, even if you cannot see yourself."
"Ah," Jack replied, a familiar grin spreading across his face. "Like what ye see, then?"
"Naturally," the angel replied, smiling slightly. "Very few women would not approve of your appearance."
"Ah," Jack answered, the grin slowly widening. He sauntered over to her and gently took her hand. "Wha's yer name, Mademoiselle Angel?"
"Jack Sparrow, please remember that you will not be able to sweet talk- or otherwise- your way out of this situation," the angel reminded him, slowly withdrawing her hand, though a small smile graced her face, indicating she was not angry.
Slightly abashed, Jack's hand fell back to his side. "Well, may I still 'ave the pleasure of knowin' yer name?"
"Laura," the angel replied. "My name is Laura."
"Laura," Jack repeated. The name seemed to suit her. "Well, Laura, 'ow much longer until my judgment?"
Laura glanced at the palm of her hand before answering. "Not too much longer, I assure you. Of course, it does not really matter how long it takes, does it? You are not in any hurry to get anywhere, are you?"
"Well… I suppose not," Jack admitted slowly. "I am dead, after all."
Laura eyed him approvingly for a moment. "Good to see you are getting used to the fact already," she remarked. "Phalen does not like it when people whine and accuse her of cutting their lives short."
Jack shrugged. "Wouldn' make much sense fer me to accuse her of cuttin' me life short," he reasoned. "I was the one who made th' choice to go back to the ship, not… er… Phalen."
"Free will," Laura commented, seemingly unable to restrain herself. "You humans seem so determined that there is such a thing…"
"Is there?"
"That would be telling," answered Laura, an impish glint dancing in her eyes. "In any case, would you really want to know?"
"No," Jack sighed after a moment's contemplation. "In any case, it would be a bi' of a paradox to believe there is no such thing as free will, because then why would G- er, Phalen- punish people for th' things they did? Shouldn' she logically punish herself, since she was th' one who made those people do whatever they did?"
"Very astute," observed Laura, smiling again. "Seems I do not have to tell you after all. Pity more people have not worked that out."
"More people aren' as smart as I," Jack replied proudly, puffing out his chest.
"Careful," Laura warned. "Phalen detests pride. One of her biggest pet peeves."
"God has pet peeves?" Jack asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, she does. The Ten Commandments were not all wrong, you know."
"You mean they weren' all right?"
Laura shrugged. "People seem to assume the Bible, the Torah, the Koran all fell out of the sky, written by various deities, when in reality, they were all written by people, and people are not perfect. I am not saying the writers of the Bible were dirty rotten thieves… No offense, by the way…"
"None taken."
"Good. Well… as I was saying, the writers of these holy books were not perfect. And they may have added a few things in there to make things go the way they would have preferred them to go. Human weakness."
"Makes sense," Jack replied thoughtfully.
"Besides which, life is not always black and white as the Ten Commandments makes it out to be. It says not to steal, but what about a man who has to steal so his family doesn't starve?"
"I ne'er thought of it tha' way," Jack muttered, well aware that he had no good excuse for pillaging his life away.
"However," the angel continued, as though Jack hadn't said anything, "Phalen does not hold it against humans who have succumbed to believing in everything that was written in these books. Including the assumption that God is a man. People cannot be expected to get everything right… as I said, your race is not perfect. That is one thing your Bible got right- 'God', as you call her, is a forgiving deity."
"Tha's interestin'," Jack remarked, raising an eyebrow as he contemplated Laura's words. "So… so those people regarded as savages who sacrificed other humans to please their own Gods…"
"…may attain salvation," Laura finished for Jack, a slight knowing smile gracing her face.
"An'…. an' e'en common criminals?" Jack inquired slowly.
"Yes, Jack Sparrow. Even common criminals. Even the worst murderer can receive forgiveness… you see, it is fortunate that there is no jury that concludes whether or not a person is guilty. Phalen does not believe in vengeance, for punishing people for their crimes. Her judgment is the ultimate impartial one. What matters is that someone truly repents for what he did."
As she spoke, Laura gave Jack a piercing look, one that made him feel more exposed than he'd ever felt in his life. He'd been naked many times and never thought a thing of it, completely at ease in his birthday suit. But Laura's searching look seemed to go through his clothes, through his skin, down to his very soul and thoughts. And if there was one thing Jack strived to do throughout his life, it was to prevent those around him from knowing his thoughts. Under Laura's gaze, Jack shifted uncomfortably. Attempting to change the subject, Jack asked suddenly, "So what happens now?"
Laura's gaze finally became less focused on Jack, though her brow remained furrowed in thought. "Well, that is where it becomes complicated, Jack Sparrow."
"Wha' d'ye mean?" Jack asked warily. After all her assurances that he might not be doomed to the eternal fires of Hell, something about her expression deeply concerned him.
Laura sighed. "Your friends- Elizabeth Swann, Will Turner Junior, Hector Barbossa-"
"Barbossa?" Jack exclaimed, horrified. "Bu' he's dead!"
"Tia Dalma brought him back to life."
"She what?" Jack made a face as he contemplated Barbossa's overly scarred features and yellow teeth. "Why couldn' she bring me back too, eh? She an' I go way back… An' I'm way be'er looking than tha' mutinous- he calls tha' peach fuzz a beard?"
"Jack Sparrow, I-"
"An' Hector Barbossa is not me friend," Jack added emphatically, cutting through whatever Laura was trying to say. "Friends don' lead a mutiny against their captain an' maroon 'im on an island to die… I mean, at th' very least, 'e should at least leave 'im at a port…"
"Jack Sp-"
"… I may not 'ave been the bes' captain, bu' tha's no excuse t' dump me off at th' first deserted island 'e came across…"
"Jack-"
"..Maybe I considered 'im a friend at one time, bu' that was before 'e stabbed me in th' back. Ye don' get over a betrayal like tha' overnight!"
Laura tried to speak up, but Jack continued on as though he'd forgotten she was there.
"…An' another thing," Jack continued, on a roll, "I feel I 'ad ever right to kill 'im! I mean, 'e stole me ship! Imagine, the Pearl at th' command of tha' wanker…"
Laura rolled her pretty eyes upwards, apparently counting to ten to buy herself more patience as Jack rambled on.
"I do feel bad abou' it, I wish things could've turned out diff'rently, bu' it's his own fault, he mutinied on me, he brought it on 'imself, 'e ruined me life an' stole me precious Pearl!" Jack burst out fiercely. "Er- Phalen isn' goin' to hold it against me tha' I killed him, is she?" he added apprehensively. "He is alive now, after all… though if I had it me own way, he wouldn' be." Jack's expression was one of extreme bitterness. "Th' only reason I would've brought 'im back would be to kill 'im again."
"Captain Sparrow!" Laura finally said sharply, and the appropriate use of his title seized Jack's attention right away. "Phalen will not be involved in this matter."
"Ye know, ye aren' bein' particularly informative," Jack remarked, mildly irritated.
"I am trying to be, but you do run on so!" Laura replied, exasperated, though her expression softened. "As I was saying, your friends… and arch nemesis Captain Barbossa," she added, as Jack showed every intention of interrupting her again, "seek to rescue you from World's End."
Jack opened and closed his mouth, puzzled. "World's End?" he repeated dubiously. "Wha', did th' world end because I died?" Now that was the world he knew and loved… a world that revolved around him! He always knew he was more important than other people let on. A brief mental image of Elizabeth Swann, Will Turner, and Barbossa drifting in a vast expanse of nothingness, seeking to bring him back so the world could come back into being, crawled across his thoughts, eliciting an involuntary self-contented grin. Oh, the things Barbossa would have to apologize for if it turned out the world really did revolve around Captain Jack Sparrow….
"Of course not," Laura replied briskly, popping Jack's happy bubble a second later. "World's End is also known as Davy Jones Locker- dubbed World's End presumably because one literally must sail off the edge of the world to reach it. They must really like you, Jack Sparrow, because the journey to World's End is a difficult one."
"Aye, well, I always 'ad me suspicions when it comes to Lizzie," Jack remarked, looking very self-satisfied indeed. "An' Will Turner too, I suppose- his interest in Miss Swann seemed far too-" Then the weight of what Laura had just said seemed to hit him, and he broke off. "Davy Jones Locker?" Jack suddenly repeated, alarmed.
"Yes, Davy Jones Locker," Laura told him quietly. "Davy Jones has completely abandoned the task that was set upon him- to ferry souls lost at sea from your world to this world. Until he is stopped, such souls wind up in Davy Jones Locker."
"An' I-" Jack stopped, unable to speak. He already knew the answer to his question without asking anyway. "Is it… bad there?" he finally asked in a pathetically small voice.
"Probably not in the sense you are thinking," Laura replied, reaching out to pat Jack sympathetically on the shoulder. Though Jack could not feel her touch, he appreciated the gesture. "But it is not a pleasant place, I am afraid. Hopefully you will not have to stay there for long. Mr. Turner, Ms. Swann, and Captain Barbossa already seek aid from an ally in Singapore… what is it?" she asked suddenly, referencing the grimace on Jack's face.
"Sorry," Jack muttered. "I suppose ye're referrin' to Captain Sao-Feng? He an' I aren't on th' best of terms… I sort o' insulted him, he don' take insults well… why would 'e agree to bring me back to life, unless 'e wanted to kill me himself?"
"As I understand it, he is most reluctant to allow you to come back to life," Laura said matter-of-factly. "Your crew can be most persuasive, however."
"Me crew?" Jack brightened. "Me crew is tryin' to bring me back? Well, at least they like me this time 'round. Cant've been tha' bad of a captain if they don' want me dead." A disturbing thought suddenly occurred to him, and he asked warily, "Phalen won' mind tha' I'm not sufferin' me well deserved eternal torment, then?"
"Probably not," said Laura, smiling. "Phalen has always been amused by your antics. And as far as pirates go, you are not such a bad one on the whole. You are not as bloodthirsty as so many of them are."
"Aye, well." Jack looked rather embarrassed. "Me tendency to give quarter was what lost me th' Pearl in th' first place, as Barbossa so kindly reminded me before I killed 'im…"
"Mercy is never something to be embarrassed about, Jack Sparrow," Laura told him quietly. "Very few pirates have ever shown mercy. And it is possible Barbossa may have learned a thing or two about mercy in his absence from life."
"Doubt it," Jack grumbled, but he appeared slightly happier. "So when do I head fer Davy Jones Locker to await me rescue?"
Laura checked her hand again. "We are running a bit late, I am afraid," she said calmly. "You ought to have been there quite some time ago. Seems we got caught up talking."
"Aye, well, I'm good at distractin' me opponents wiv me verbal wit," Jack remarked impishly.
"I noticed," Laura said, grinning.
"Will I… er… remember any of this?" Jack inquired curiously and also, possibly, in a last-ditch effort to postpone the inevitable.
Laura made no answer; instead, she waved a hand in Jack's direction. All at once, he became aware that he had a body again, and as he looked down at himself, he saw, with a surge of relief, that his priceless good looks had not been mangled by the Kraken. He was about to comment on this to the angel, but the words were lost somewhere in translation between thought and speech. His sudden distraction was due to a massive, swirling vortex that had opened just above his head in the firmament. Shimmering specks of light twinkled around the edges as they slowly migrated towards the dark center. "'Ow am I supposed t' get up there?" Jack asked indignantly.
Laura frowned at the sparkling vortex. "Well, I am afraid it was not supposed to open up there. I must speak to the Heavenly Maintenance Host about this."
"Does tha' mean I won' be able to go to Davy Jones' Locker?" Jack wondered hopefully.
"No, you will go to Davy Jones Locker. You just need to jump."
Jack peered up at the vortex overhead unhappily. "So things aren' all rainbows an' butterflies in Heaven after all," he grumbled. "No rest fer th' weary departed."
Laura looked amused. "A simple jump is not what I would call work, Jack Sparrow. Or is that too much effort for your lithe body to handle? Shall I call for a stepstool?"
"No, no," Jack replied hastily. "Tha' won' be necessary. I can make a little jump." He crouched his legs obediently in preparation to spring for the vortex. He was by no means a wimp. His 'lithe body' could handle anything, and he was determined to prove it, even if it meant jumping to his doom for the second time that day… Before he could think too much about the consequences of his actions and chicken out, he soared upwards with surprising ease. His arms were captured by the vortex and he experienced the most curious sensation of being sucked upwards, as if into a completely dry upside-down whirlpool. As he slowly disappeared upwards and out of sight, he heard Laura's voice trailing after him, as if over a great distance. "Captain Sparrow, try not to get too attached to the peanuts!"
Author's Comments: A few comments now that you've read this little tidbit. :) I first began writing this after the second movie came out, to tide me over until the release of the third. I only had about five pages before I ran out of motivation, and the document languished in my files for several months. It wasn't until recently that I re-read it, decided I quite liked it, and began writing again. I originally intended to write a full series for this fanfic, but ultimately I concluded that would take too much time and effort, and I tend to get bored after only a few chapters of writing. It's probably better off as a oneshot anyway.
In any case, now that the third movie has been released, and with it more about Jack's parents, I had to alter a few things in the beginning. I quite preferred them as they were in the first version, but things get too complicated when I pretend certain parts of the movie never happened. So here you are.
I do have one other idea, this time for a fully-fledged story with chapters and all that. My ideas are slowly coming together into a story that actually makes a smidgeon of sense, and I may eventually get around to finishing the first installment and posting it up here. If you enjoyed this story, I hope you will keep checking back for other stories by Lux Aurumque. Thanks for reading!