-As We Were-
Disclaimer: I would hope everyone knows I don't own POTC or Disney. I wouldn't be writing this if I did. The original characters are my own. Carry on.
Chapter 1
Too Soon
"Captain! Orders!?!" Gibbs, ever ready to jump into action, rushed to Jack's side. Unfortunately, the Kraken could be back at any time. Although blowing its slimy tentacles to bits had sent it slithering back to the depths, it would certainly return just a wee bit more pissed off. They'd had a miraculous stretch of luck, but that could only last for so long. Every victory against this monster only increased its fury in the next round.
The captain descended the stairs with a purpose, his stride rushed yet confident and his demeanor oddly calm given the circumstances. He handed Gibbs the gun and looked him dead in the eye. "Abandon ship, into the longboat."
Without stopping, he continued down the deck. Taking on last glance at what he had thought of as his heart's desire for so long. It was time to say goodbye. However short, it had been a good ride. That was all you could ask for.
Flabbergasted, Gibbs ran after his captain. "Jack, the Pearl…"
How could they just leave? These were orders he never expected to hear let alone follow.
Without turning, Jack muttered, "She's only a ship, mate."
His gaze bore into the floor, seeing more than just wood. It was more than a mast or sails, more than rope… Even more than freedom. It was a past... a dream… It was the end.
There were voices in the background, a woman's and several mens', none of whom fully understood. Gibbs again, "Abandon ship. Abandon ship or abandon hope."
There was a shuffle of feet and the sound of splashing water behind him as he said his last farewells. He felt the ropes that held her together and gazed back at that wheel. He opened his mouth as if he were about to say something.
The woman again, "Thank you, Jack…"
"We're not free yet, love…"
There was blackness, a jump. Thick smoke filled the air, and fire crackled bringing the scent of burning flesh. There was an odd silence before the vision returned.
And there it was, the Kraken. No longer just a set of tentacles but a mouth that flew open with a terrible roar, exposing rows upon rows of razor sharp teeth, a never-ending black hole of a throat, and, well, goo. It all reeked of death, rotting fish, and ironically enough, really bad eggs.
It would have made a great story.
The picture began to fade as he shook off the mess and wiped his face clean… kind of. His voice remained clear as it had always been though. "Not so bad… Hello beastie."
"No..."
With a smile on his face, he drew his sword and charged into death swinging. And then he was gone. The Pearl soon followed, and then the picture faded entirely.
Only a harsh voice echoed, "Turns out not even Jack Sparrow can best the devil."
"Damn you, Jack SPARROW!!!"
And a fair ways away another scream rang out, this one a woman's.
Her hunched figure flew straight up in the bed as her hand slapped over her mouth. Breathing heavily, she scanned the dark surroundings frantically. She was in the right place. Her failing eyes could still make out the windows draped with dark fabric. A few rays of dull light managed to force their way through. There was the desk and the bookshelf, both covered in trinkets, scrolls, and herbs. The only sounds were of the wild birds outside and her own heavy breathing.
Her weathered hands gripped the tattered blanket tightly as she squinched her eyes closed and backed into the corner, not satisfied until her back hit the wall. She needed to feel safe and enclosed. She had found that complete awareness of her surroundings brought the panic down a notch. Feeling the splintered wood at her back and the somewhat scratchy fabric beneath her reinforced where she really was.
"Breathe, breathe. Come now. Pass, pass…" She muttered over and over. Being helpless irked her beyond belief, but she had made choices.
Long, stringy, graying hair fell over her eyes as she desperately tried to regain her breath. Her shaky inhaling brought the familiar smells of the herb garden just outside. There was also coconut and melon on the air. Even further away, the ocean's salty aroma called back to her.
Suddenly the door to the small hut burst open, bringing the dying light of sunset. "KIERA!"
"NOO!!" She screamed again and covered her face as the tall figure in the doorway jumped back.
"Shit; I'm so sorry." He quickly re-entered the hut and slammed the door shut. Racing over to the bed, he sat down on the edge and pulled the frail woman onto his lap.
Her eyes were tightly shut, her body shook, and she muttered fragments in the old language he didn't understand. God, she looked paler than ever. In these times she was hardly recognizable. Time was taking its toll on her already weak form. Who would have thought it would come to this?
"Shhh, Kiera. Shhh. Let it go. Let it fade. They pass."
Cradling this small body, rubbing her back, and muttering assurances, the man fell into a well known pattern. He knew the visions had returned. They were early this time. The moon wasn't due for another week or so. Regardless, experience had taught him patience was what was needed now; patience and the kind side of his voice only she knew.
When the shakes finally subsided, she rested her head lightly on his shoulder and stared blankly at the place where the wall met the ceiling. She always found it peculiar that he never failed to bring her down from the attacks and visions. Well, it wasn't peculiar, given what they'd been through, but it certainly was interesting. Growing up, she never would have thought Charlie Slater would be the one comforting her in her worst years, that his voice would make her feel safer. It was almost like being home again sometimes.
Smiling, the man said, "There now, we're ok aren't we? All's well. That was a bit of a surprise, but we did just fine, yeah? Kiera? Kiera?"
She stared at that spot though her mind was far away. He pulled her away from his body and forced her to face him. When her eyes finally met his, he saw a look he hadn't seen in nearly ten years.
"Kiera!?!"
She exhaled and whispered, "Jack…"
There was a name he hadn't expected to hear.
"Jack… He's dead."