Tortuga.
After the Pearl, this was his favourite place in the world. After all, as he'd once said to the whelp, no man was ever lonely in Tortuga.
Of course, it could also be said that no man ever escaped Tortuga without sustaining injuries to his person; the exact quantity depending on how many ladies he managed to befriend in one night. Usually for Jack, this could end up with him receiving anywhere between two and ten slaps in the morning - but on this visit, the demon women didn't even want to wait for sunrise.
He'd been minding his own business (as much as it could be minded in these parts, and by a pirate too) when someone had cannoned out of a house as he walked by, and greeted him in usual Tortuga fashion.
His head snapped back with the forced of the slap, and Jack recovered with his usual gung-ho smile in place as he turned to greet the new arrival by name.
But he couldn't remember her name. Though she apparently remembered him.
It was a young woman, little more than twenty - and quite pretty too, though looking very tired. Her expression was expectant as though she was waiting for him to greet her, but all he could manage was a weak smile and a weaker question. "Do I know you?"
Apparently that was the wrong thing to say. Her expression hardened, and she picked bent over to retrieve her abandoned bundle from the ground. It looked to Jack like a few bits of cloth, and he ignored it. There were bigger things at stake here. "Do I know you?" the woman echoed, the suppressed rage in her voice punctuated by her footsteps as she advanced on Jack, who matched her every footstep by backing away until he met a wall. "After ten months, that's all you've got to say? Do I know you? You knew me well enough in that bedroom."
Ten months. Ten months, ten months... Ah. It came back to Jack, and his smile switched from bemused to confident. "Lilian!" he exclaimed, throwing out his arms as though expecting some great show of affection - which did not come. He raised his hands up to adjust his hat as though this was what he had been planning to do all along. "It's been too long." Or, judging by her expression, not long enough.
"This is yours," Lilian informed him, nodding down to the bundle in her arms. "You... 'left it behind', last time."
"Mine?" Jack stared blankly from the little bundle to the woman holding it, eyes switching back and forth several times. Her face was angry, showing no hint of relenting - just waiting. Jack finally acted, pointing towards the bundle but not letting his finger get close enough to touch it. He took a breath, opened his mouth, frowned, closed his mouth and breathed out again. This process repeated several times until he finally managed coherent speech. "What is it?"
Lilian scowled, and held the pile of white cloth and the strange pink thing within out towards Jack, who stepped back as though she was offering the plague. "This, Captain, is your daughter. Say hello."
Jack's eyes were drawn to the little daugher-creature. It was small, fat and very red, with a head that was very much too big for its body, covered with a very small amount of black fuzz that he supposed might pass for hair. Its eyes were closed, mouth hanging open to show a strange, toothless interior. With all the things he'd seen and all the curses he'd encountered in his life, Jack could safely say this was the most disgusting thing he'd ever seen.
"And what would this Thing be for, exactly?"
She ignored his question as though she hadn't heard it, thrusting the Thing towards Jack with an expression that did not permit argument. "It's been hell being pregnant with her, I'll tell you that! I've done my part, you sodding bloody pirate. Do you know how much this has ruined my business? No pirate's drunk enough to find any interest in a pregnant woman, and that's saying something! I'll never earn another penny for as long as I have to look after some useless kid. No, Jack, I've had it. I brought her into the world, you can bloody well take things from here."
Jack reached out gingerly during this tirade, not in the least sure he'd had enough rum to understand what was going on. He accepted the Thing, holding it apprehensively by one end. Then something unexpected - it moved. Squirmed was the word for it, and the bit he was holding onto nearly slipped from his hands. He raised it up a little to look at the other end - the head? - which hung upside down in front of his face. Two round, very bold blue eyes opened, and for a second all seemed fine.
Then it opened its mouth, and all hell broke loose.
It was the most terrible sound Jack had ever heard; one he'd never experienced before and hoped never to again. Jack yelped, holding it at arm's length fearfully. "What the bloody hell's wrong with it?" he yelled, hopping around as though that would make it disappear.
"She's crying, Jack," Lilian replied dryly, watching with folded arms in complete detachment from his dismay, the smile on her face slightly satisfied.
"Why?"
"You're holding her the wrong way up."
He paused. "Oh." He turned her the other way up. The crying gradually turned to little hiccuping sobs, the face even redder than it had been before. Jack adjusted his hold so that he was gripping it with one hand around what appeared to be its stomach, still holding it as though it was about to explode. (He could but hope, anyway.) He still hadn't the faintest clue what it actually was, what he was supposed to do with it or when in the name of piracy itself it was going to shut up. He was severely tempted to shoot the blasted thing and be done with it, but he was running low on bullets and was liable to need them that night.
So now to make his escape.
"Well!" he smiled his usual winning smile. "This has been a perfectly charming reunion, wouldn't have missed it for the world, but I'm afraid I must be going now. Ship to captain and all that." He smiled again, hoping she didn't see the fear in the expression, and offered her the baby.
She backed away.
"No chance," Lilian shook her head. "I've carried that for nine months -"
"It's not that heavy," Jack protested, managing to miss the point entirely, "I'm sure you could keep going!"
Lilian shook her head. "Goodbye, Jack. I'm not sorry." He seemed to be hearing that a lot lately. The girl turned away, vanishing into the house and slamming the door shut behind her.
Jack paused to think for all of two seconds before dumping the Thing down in front of the door. "Me neither," he grinned, very glad to be rid of it and sauntered off without a single glance back – delighted when the horrible sounds faded into the distance to be replaced by the usual sounds of drunk, brawling pirates as he approached a pub. That strange little episode out of the way, he was sure there had to be somewhere around here for a thirsty man to find some rum, and perhaps some company for the night.
Indeed, there was simply no helping Jack Sparrow.
It was an inebriated but very happy Jack who swaggered onto the deck of the Black Pearl the following morning, feeling most contented with himself and the world at large. He had a bottle of rum in his hand, a hat atop his head that was not the same one he'd last left the ship with, and a general, vague sort of memory of having had a very good night. After hearing that the full crew was on board and that someone had ensured the supplies were restocked, Jack gave the orders and his crew (which appeared somewhat depleted, but he didn't dwell on that) set the ship sailing.
Yes, Captain Jack Sparrow loved the world, but it wasn't Jack that wore the trousers in that particular relationship.
"Cap'n!" Jack looked down from the crow's nest as a shout caught his ears, perhaps an hour into the voyage. It was a nice spot up there, one of the few places to enjoy a bottle of rum in peace without the threat of having it stolen even as he drank from it. Now, however, he clambered down the ladder – somehow managing not to spill a drop of drink – and landed without grace on the deck.
"Gibbs!" he exclaimed, raising his rum bottle in greeting. "Fine morning, don't you think?"
Gibbs ignored the fine drizzle and murky sky overhead that contradicted this statement, such was the gravity of his news. "Cap'n, you'd better see this."
"Lead on," Jack replied cheerfully, taking another swig of rum and following his first mate. Nothing could put a damper on his mood that morning.
Nothing, it transpired, but what awaited him.
A shrill, piercing cry, worse to Jack's ears even than the roar of the Kraken. Nothing he had ever faced before was worse than this, nothing. This was Hell. Especially since the rum bottle slipped from his grasp, smashing on the wood panels below and losing the precious liquid forever.
Now there was no rum – again – and though not even rum could prepare him for this (a strange feeling in itself), Jack felt that it would have helped nonetheless. The unfortunate pirate captain followed Gibbs into his cabin and, as he had feared, there it was – swaddled in cloth and resting inside a woven basket.
Apparently his crew weren't having much fun attempting to tame it. "We've tried everything!" Ragetti wailed, straightening up from the table where the basket lay, his voice barely audible over the screams.
"Even rum don't work, Cap'n," Gibbs concurred, the horrific truth shining on his face. "We only found it just now, I reckon t'were asleep 'till then. But now it just won't stop!"
Jack couldn't speak, couldn't do anything but stare in repulsion as realisation dawned on him.
The Thing was back.
They were an hour away from Tortuga.
There was no rum.
A strange, foul smell was filling the cabin, coming from the Thing.
There was no rum.
Jack regarded the Thing with unprecedented alarm, and a growing feeling of dread spread through his body.
"Oh, bugger."
He was going to kill that bloody woman, if his crew didn't kill him first.