DISCLAIMER: 'Pirates of the Caribbean' does NOT belong to me. It belongs to Disney; the genius's who brought cartoons to popularity even before Bugs Bunny came around.
CHAPTER 1
The moonlight cast an eerie glow on the ocean. The waves looked a deep navy blue just as the sky above. Stars winked at the inhabitants below, and a few clouds floated on their way, careful on not upstaging the moon. A cool breeze helped the clouds and to anyone, it would seem that the Caribbean was a perfect tropical paradise.
That's exactly what the captain of the ship the Black Pearl thought. The Black Pearl was silently making her way to Tortuga, where she would drop off her 'findings' and set off again. She was an old ship, damaged somewhat, with a statue of an angel holding a bird in her hands on the starboard bow. However, the black sails with the flag which had the symbol of Davy Jones upon it made her seem menacing to any ship. She was, after all, the only and last pirate threat on the Caribbean.
But Jack Sparrow, captain of the Black Pearl, knew better. There were things in his past that noone knew, except his best friend Bootstrap Bill( also known as William Turner.) There were a couple more pirates still in business, but Jack and his crew were the ones the Royal Navy was after. The Black Pearl made quite a reputation for herself, and so far, they hadn't been caught yet.
Bootstrap is dead. Gone, Jack told himself as he stood at the wheel. He was killed by that bastard Barbossa ten years ago. He didn't deserve it, but…
Jack shook his head to clear away any depressing thoughts. Being depressed was not part of Jack's nature. He was a good man, a bit sneaky and clever at times, but good. Not to mention a mixture of honesty and dishonesty. He was very hard to predict, but he had a good sense of humor. And like any other pirate, his pride and joy was his ship. He loved the Pearl more than anything.
Jack blinked in realization and adjusted his hat. Pirate garb. The most comfortable clothing in the world. He talked, acted, and looked like a pirate, which was good, because he was one.
Who cared if he had an old hat, a red bandana tied across his forehead, and dirty, matted, long black hair that was tied in braids and beads in a couple of places? Who cared if he had a couple golden teeth, dark skin underneath his eyelids, a couple of rings on dirty fingers, a pair of worn brown pieces of cloth on his hands that used to be gloves? Who cared if he was tan from the sun, carried a black sword, a 10 year old pistol with no shots, and a compass that didn't point north, but to the Isla de la Muerta, the Island of Death, where the Aztec treasure of Cortez himself was kept safe and hidden?
He tugged at one of the braids that he had put his beard in. There were two little braids, but he didn't care. He thought it made him look dashing. And besides, he had freedom, and that was all that mattered.
Or so he thought. For Captain Jack Sparrow, the swashbuckling pirate, was widening his eyes in realization that there indeed was something he loved more than the Black Pearl. And that he hadn't seen it in quite awhile.
'Captain?'
Jack jumped slightly and turned to see AnaMaria, a member of his crew, standing there with her arms folded. She was black, had a fiery spirit, and was indeed beautiful. And she had a grudge against Jack ever since he 'borrowed' her boat, which she was going to use to visit her 10-year-old son in Port Royal, to which he was sent after his father died for honest upbringing.
'My turn,' she said, and shoved Jack aside and took the wheel. Jack opened his mouth to protest, but she gave him a glare so cold, that he shut his mouth right away, and trudged off to his quarters.
On his way, he passed Gibbs, his first mate, who was lying on the deck, snoring loudly. Gibbs was an older man, who seemed to have seen better years. He was gentle by nature, and always seemed determined to keep the Pirates' Code.
Except that one time when they came back for me when I was about to be hung by Commodore Norrington, Jack thought with a smile. Good ol' Gibbs. He was one of those that anyone could depend on.
Jack looked back around the deck. A few members of the crew were asleep, but most of them were up and about doing numerous tasks. Seeing them work put him at ease, and he descended the stairs, knowing he would sleep well that night.
But as he was about to open the door to the captain's quarters, he got a distinct feeling of unease. Jack looked around nervously. It was his pirate instinct, and he knew that that instinct was never wrong. Drawing his sword from its sheath, he opened the door slowly.
Everything in the room seemed to be in perfect order. His bed was the way he left it that morning. Small pieces of treasure here and there…but in the corner, a candle was lit on the table by the windows, and a figure was sitting there, eating a chicken leg with great relish.
Jack frowned, and stepped toward the figure, sword drawn. The figure looked up at him and smiled as the candlelight cast shadows on his face, and Jack nearly cried out.
It was Bootstrap Bill.
'B…Bo…Bootstrap…?' Jack barely got out. 'It…It can't be…you're…you're dead! Barbossa murdered you! This…This isn't real!' For a moment, Jack thought that the three days he spent on the tiny island that Barbossa left him on with a single shot that the rum runners used to use had finally gotten to him. He spent three days getting drunk off of rum, and the result was him acting very fidgety and twitchy at times. Maybe it was now affecting his brain…?
'Aye, Jack, it's me!' Bootstrap stood up and took a step toward him.
Maybe it's an illusion, Jack thought desperately. A figment of me imagination…
But Bootstrap put a very solid hand on his shoulder, which made all hopes of it being an illusion fly straight out the window.
'What's the matter, Jack? Can't a man visit an old friend?' Bootstrap said, commenting on Jack's shocked face.
'You're supposed to be dead,' Jack said in shock.
'Not that again…' Bootstrap sighed and paced the room as if he'd heard that statement many times before and had grown tired of it. 'You felt me hand. Illusions aren't solid. I'm alive and well, Jack. In fact, I came to thank ye for killing Barbossa with your single shot.'
'How-' Jack began, but Bootstrap held up his hand for silence.
'In case you don't recall, I was there when Barbossa found the Aztec gold. I was the only one who didn't commit mutiny. And I helped get rid of the gold. I spent it with them. And when they realized they were cursed, I told them it was punishment for betraying you and well, they didn't like that at all. So Barbossa hooked a canon to me bootstraps and pushed me over, thinkin' I would drown.
'Well, he was wrong. I didn't drown. Because I partook of that chest just like the rest of 'em. I sent the medallion to my son, and I knew Barbossa would go to any lengths to get back that medallion. See…I knew that the only way to lift the curse would be to apply the blood of the one who stole from the chest last. And that's what you 'n my Will did.
'I knew he'd go after my son. Which meant he was stupid enough to believe I was really dead. Meaning I could get away without noone knowing the difference.
'I'm stronger than most men, you know that, Jack. Better than anyone. I got that cannon off easily. And because of my strength, I was able to know that Barbossa would kill my son because of me and live without guilt or remorse.'
'You…you would sacrifice your own son…?' Jack said incredulously. Jack had become friends with Will in the short time they had been on their adventure together. Will was a good man and so was his father…but he was starting to have second thoughts.
'I want to travel with you and your crew to get the rest of the treasure of Isla de la Muerta, since you're the only one who knows where it is. For ol' times sake,' Bootstrap continued.
'And how do you know I am the only one who knows where it is…?' Jack replied coolly. Something was different about Bootstrap, but he couldn't quite place it…
Bootstrap's smile faded into a look of pure rage. 'Don't play games with me, Jack!' His voice began to rise. 'I saw her give you that compass! I heard her warning to yeh and all those other promises you two made…'
Jack stepped back. This was not the Bootstrap Bill he remembered. The Bootstrap Bill he remembered was kind, with a gentle disposition, who was loyal and true. One of the best pirates he ever knew.
But this…this was not Bootstrap. This man was crazy, an escapee from an asylum or something. A lunatic. This was not Jack Sparrow's best friend.
Bootstrap continued his ranting. 'The minute you laid eyes on her, I knew that we was in trouble! The bloody siren…which reminds me…I also came here to give you a fair warnin', mate.'
'How did you get in here?' Jack demanded, fearing the worst.
Bootstrap ignored him, and continued. 'I've felt the cold despair of death. I've felt the burn of lust, the hunger and thirst of starvation. And I have felt the curse of the darkest reaches of hell.
'Too much of my life was wasted in those long years…too much for me to die, truly die. I want to live…live forever.'
Jack didn't like the direction this conversation was going. His worst fears were being confirmed.
'And that is why I'm goin' after her, mate. She's safe right now, don't worry about it. I thought I'd give you a night's head start for you to save her and warn 'er. Because, you see Jack, you'll go to any lengths to rescue her,' Bootstrap's smile reappeared.
Jack knew he was right, and it unnerved him to know that Bootstrap knew it just as well. But what Bootstrap didn't know was that Jack had changed a lot since they had last seen eachother.
He darted his eyes around quickly, looking for a weapon other than his sword, and the first thing that came to his attention was the candle on the nearby table.
'You'll try to save her. And you'll fail. And then I'll take a turn with yer bonnie lass, savvy?' He gave Jack a grin, making the emphasis of his statement obvious. It made Jack sick to his stomach.
'And once I take 'er trinket, I'll strap your bootstraps to hers, and watch you both drown. You bein' the gentleman and drowning her first. And after that, I'll kill me son and finish what Barbossa didn't. How's that fer a tragedy, eh?' Bootstrap finished with relish.
'Hmmm…' Jack pretended to consider his words as he slowly edged toward the table. 'Sounds good…except for one thing.'
'And what's that?'
'….In the end, the good guy always gets the girl!' Jack seized the candle, grabbed Bootstrap's head, and shoved the candle into his eye.
Bootstrap cried in pain as Jack seized the door and ran up the stairs, his mind running furiously. He had to get Bootstrap occupied with a serious injury and get him off the Pearl to buy himself more time. He had to contact Will, Bootstrap's son, before he could attempt any rescue mission.
He clutched his sword and cried, 'All hands on deck! NOW!'
AnaMaria turned with a puzzled look as Jack kicked Gibbs in the shins to wake him up and yelled at the other sleeping crew members. She shrugged, and continued to steer the ship.
Jack turned back to the descending stairs, preparing himself for a very angry Bootstrap. Sure enough, Bootstrap staggered up the stairs, a hand clutching his eye and his sword drawn. Bootstrap wouldn't be able to fight as well as he usually could.
He fought back pretty well, Jack had to admit, as they began fighting, sword tip to sword tip. But the pain in his eye must be terrible, and soon he'd find an opening…
There. Jack slashed at his shoulder just as Gibbs came up from behind and hit him across the skull with the hilt of his own sword, rendering him unconscious.
'Thanks,' Jack said gratefully.
Gibbs frowned at Bootstrap's crumpled body. 'I'm surprised that ol' Bootstrap is alive, but some miracles aren't good. That isn't the Bootstrap I knew; he would never have fought you, let alone argue with yeh.'
Jack nodded. 'Grab his arms; we're throwing him overboard. You heard me, overboard!' He yelled, as Gibbs looked at him as if he was daft.
They dragged the unconscious pirate to the side of the ship. Jack tied him to a barrel and heaved him into the water.
'Hand me that oar, ' Jack instructed to Gibbs, pointing to one of the smaller boats on deck. Gibbs grabbed it and tossed it to Jack. He took the handle of the oar, and dropped it in the water, where it floated near Bootstrap and his barrel.
'See you later, mate,' Jack said, saluting his floating injured friend. He turned back to Gibbs, who gave him an inquiring look, and so he told him the whole story that Bootstrap told him and what Bootstrap planned on doing.
'Who's this lass that he seems to have such a grudge against?' Gibbs asked with a peculiar look.
'N...No one…' Jack said, eyes darting around and looking more twitchy than usual. 'No one important…'
'Doesn't seem like it,' Gibbs muttered as he trudged back to his sleeping place.
Jack ignored that comment, and went up to AnaMaria, who seemed to have decided to ignore the fight on deck and just steer the ship to Tortuga. 'AnaMaria, change the Pearl's course to Port Royal, now.'
'But Captain-'
'Just do what I say…and that's an order,' he said sharply. Knowing better than to argue, AnaMaria did as she was told and turned the wheel.
Looking that the horizon, his eyes clouded. Before, when he'd look at the horizon, he got a sense of freedom; that he could go on forever. But this time, it was one of urgency. Please hurry, he silently urged the Black Pearl. Please…if I lose her… He shook his head. I must save her…even if it's the last thing I do.
END OF CHAPTER 1
Well, tell me what ya think! Review, please, since this is my first long fanfic ever. I'd like comments and suggestions. I'll update as soon as possible. Thanks for reading!
~Tiffany