…Title: Let ME Be Your Hero

Author: KatelynKat

Rating: T (teen) for violence, language, alcohol use, and innuendo/sensuality.

Summary: What if Elizabeth had stabbed the heart of Davy Jones instead of Will? Will he be the one to save her from her deathly fate? Or will she enlist the help of a different and more eccentric hero? Jack/Elizabeth and later Jack/Angelica

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these glorious characters, just the main plot . . . YEAH I own something! Take that Disney!

Author's Note: A couple times, you might notice me describing Jack Sparrow's sexiness in a more, hmm classy way, but what can I say? I'm in love with the man. xD Also, in italics is Jack's point of view and his thoughts/flashbacks.

~Chapter One~

Captain King Elizabeth Swann

"Bugger."

Jack Sparrow was never the type to make plans. He just sort of made it all up as he went along. But now, as he sat in his desolate cabin in complete and utter solitude, holding the power of the great, feared and frightful Davy Jones, he figured now was the time to start. As he held the said terrible, monstrous pirate's heart in his right hand and a freshly sharpened and refined dagger in his left, he thought. He thought hard and long, yet Jack Sparrow did not know what he wanted. He held the most puzzling look on his fine facial features, and for once in his life, he was terrified. What if he were to make the wrong decision? The course of his actions could scar him for the rest of his life, for eternity. And there would be no undoing it. Stab the heart; doomed to rule the seas forever, bound to the Flying Dutchman. Or, don't stab the heart; live life wondering what it would be like to live forever, still living life in fear of Davy Jones and his disgusting crew and ship.

"Stab the heart." Suddenly, as if on cue, Jack had a hallucination, and a miniature Jack Sparrow appeared on his left shoulder.

"Don't stab the heart." Another. This time, Jack appeared on his right shoulder.

He wasn't quite sure what was happening. Was this some sort of intervention that was long overdue? It couldn't be; the information that was being thrown at him was just maddeningly unhelpful. Much like the damn charts he was in possession of.

"Rule the seas, for eternity," the Jack on his left said.

"I do love the sea . . ." Jack considered. What would it be like to be like to forever be bound to a ship, and roam the seas for all of infinity?

Lonely.

But his first and only love was the sea . . . and the Black Pearl meant freedom. So what was there to worry about? Stab the heart!

But wait. There was something keeping him from making this decision. But what was it? What was there to ponder? Jack couldn't put his finger on it. Though he knew something was off, and he was determined to find out what.

5 minutes later. . .

Ugh! This was AGONY. Jack had defeated his number one enemy, survived and lifted a curse, squared his debt with Jones (so far), but he couldn't figure out what was bothering him? What was keeping him from sailing the great seven seas forever? Now this is just getting silly.

To his dismay, he was disrupted ultimately by the firing of the cannons, forcefully making their way straight through the ship window, just missing Jack. He ducked down in fright.

"Oi!" he yelled. He returned to his business. His business being Davy Jones' heart, the dagger, and his compass, of course. Jack reached for it, picked it up and closed his eyes. "I know what I want, I know what I want," he quietly chanted. He took a deep breath and slowly opened the lid . . .

BOOM!

Another bomb fired at the Black Pearl. Jack Sparrow had had enough.

****
Meanwhile, Elizabeth, Will, Gibbs, Barbossa, everyone was fighting for their life to fend off Davy Jones, and his cursed men. They would stop at nothing; swords clanked and clashed, grunts and fight/battle noises were mustered and heard. After a while, Elizabeth was getting tired. She still didn't really understand the whole concept entirely. The Flying Dutchman can't be without a captain, so if you stab the heart of the captain he will pass over, and you will be the captain? Bound to the ship and sea forever? What if two people stabbed the heart; equally guilty? Would they both be captain? How would that work out? So many things to take into consideration…

"Ah!" Elizabeth groaned. The monster crewman she had been battling struck his blade, grazing her skin. She gasped in pain. Would that leave a scar?

She ran to a safe place, to examine it. She found that the crewman had left a giant gash in her skin. She raised her other arm, and gently pressed her fingertips against the incision she now had. Droplets of red blood slithered down her already wet skin. She let out another cry of pain, louder than she thought, and loud enough for Will to hear.

"Elizabeth!" Will exclaimed. He had seen the blood dripping down her shoulder.

"I'm all right," she said confidently, while taking in a deep breath. She let it out heavily while inquiring, "Where's Jack?"

Jack Sparrow busted through the doors of his cabin, dramatically. With the heart in one hand and the dagger in the other, Jack had his eyes set on the foul Davy Jones and his ghastly and ghost like appearance. He was going to stab the heart; his mind was made up this time. And Jack wanted to see the look on that scabrous monster's face when he did.

Jones was battling Will, an unlikely match, as he was frightened for his dear life, though he thought those three hours a day were paying off. Will let out a battle cry, as he continued to hack away at Jones; little did he know what was about to hit him…

Jack took a good look around. The Black Pearl would never have him as a captain ever again. He would only make port once every ten years . . . though he wondered. Who would be waiting for him? Who would be there waiting for her beloved to come and visit? Who would look so lovingly into his eyes that it would give him a sense of . . . hope? Hope that he could accomplish and succeed.. And not end up like Davy Jones himself. After all, he didn't have the face for tentacles. But if that was true then . . . who was his true love? The question hindered Jack, it left him with a quite perplexed look on his face. He was thinking so intently, he had to sit down. He walked over to the stairs, through the fighting crowd, and sat ever so nonchalantly. Would it be Giselle that was waiting? He flashbacked . . .

I had walked into Tortuga that one rainy, dreadful night, after I had escaped the hanging noose at Port Royal. I had nowhere else to go and well, felt pretty lucky.

And lucky I was.

I saw Giselle there sitting at the bar, drinking her heart away. I decided to greet her.

"Giselle!" I exclaimed, like we hadn't seen each other in ten years.

She slapped me hard across the face.

I groaned in disappointment. "Not sure I deserved that," I mumbled.

She looked me in the eye and I sensed a feeling of pity from her. "You look horrible," she said blatantly.

Well that was blunt. And a tad bit mean . . . I was going to tell her off but I got a better idea. "I assure you, I feel worse." I had made a sad face.

"Oh! You poor thing . . . now I wish I hadn't slapped you . . ."She gave me an apologetic look. And in return, I had given her a sly smile.

I leaned in close and whispered in her ear, "You can make it up to me . . . eh?"

She giggled, quite seductively and whispered back, "I know what you mean."

I smiled pleasurably as she softly brought her hand up to my face and touched my lips. I managed to let out a, "yeah?"

She laughed a little while saying, "mmm-hmm."

I knew she'd come over to my side . . . eventually. So I suggested, "Why don't you come and take a look at my ship? It is rather-" –I cleared my throat—"large."

"Really? I don't recall it ever being as big as you say." She was quite the tease.

"Allow me to-" –I leaned in even closer—"refresh your memory."

She smiled, "All right."

"Right this way." I gestured towards my left as she clutched her drink in her hand. Though I put my hand to hers to set it down on the counter; she gave me a bizarre look of confusion.

"You won't be needing that."
- *** -

No, couldn't possibly be Giselle. She was nothing but a mere one night stand. Who else . . .

"Anamaria!" I remember shouting one night aboard her ship, The Midnight Shadow. (A/N- made up lol) We had met in Singapore and I was in need of a ship after being mutinied upon. I was looking to befriend her and when she wasn't looking, commandeer her ship. Well mate, long story short, I developed certain . . . er, stirrings for her.(A/N- Jack Sparrow's way of saying he liked/had feelings for her) And well, ended up staying with her longer than intended. And I'm surprised to admit that I . . . started to care for her. And we couldn't have that, I was, I am Captain Jack Sparrow after all. So first thing in the morning, I "borrowed" her boat and that was the end of that.

- *** -
Nah, couldn't be Anamaria either. She was too much of a pirate for him. It couldn't be Scarlett either, for she was just like Giselle . . . except more stupid, if possible.

Who else could there be? Giselle, Anamaria, Scarlett . . . wait. Wasn't there another woman . . . a woman whom he had stolen her innocence from . . . or so it was said. In Madrid, was it? Yes . . . somewhere foreign where he did not understand a single word anyone said, and vice versa, which was exactly why it was the perfect place to pick up assorted wenches. He smirked. He now remembered her name. Angelica.

- *** -
I was docked in Spain, I remember, looking for a brothel (a mate's got to get around, eh?) before I would leave again, setting sail for the Atlantic, and by then I would have sailed all seven seas and be proud to call meself captain, and Pirate Lord. To my complete and utter dismay, I stumble upon a convent instead. But how was I supposed to know that? And that's precisely when I stumbled upon . . . her.

"You look lost."

As soon as I heard this voice, I drew my sword, as she had given me a fright. She laughed, which drew me off.

"And what exactly were you planning on doing with that?" Once I realized it was a tiny, young woman, I put my sword away to relieve her.

"A man's got to protect hisself, eh?" I came up with a witty response, not revealing much.

"You're a pirate."

"What?" I retorted as soon as the words were out of her mouth. How could she, a drably, confused, young . . . girl, possibly know that?

"You are wearing a pirate brand." She pointed to my right wrist. "I suppose you are in touch with the East India Trading Company?" I realized that she spoke with a slight Spanish accent. She must have been from around here.

"We've had . . . occurrences," I stumbled to find the right words. The woman's brown eyes were captivating and . . . hypnotizing.

"What brings you to Spain?" This woman was a trifle bit too curious . . . possibly nosy.

Nevertheless, I answered her question. "The usual pirate ordinary routine. I'm looking to raid, pillage, plunder and otherwise pilfer my weaselly black guts out."

She laughed at my remark.

"Well, love, if you'll excuse me I must be on my way." I began to walk away, slowly, taking my sweet time with every step.

"What are you doing in a Spanish convent anyway?" She called after me.

I couldn't bring myself to tell her the real reason. And oddly enough, I couldn't just blurt out what exactly my intentions were . . . so I lied. "I told you I was lost."

"Right . . . but what I meant was . . . would you like to stay?"

I couldn't believe it. She wanted, me, a pirate to stay? Her, a religious woman apparently so, with beliefs, wanted me to stay?

"What?" I asked, clearly dumbfounded.

"I've never met a pirate before . . . clearly, you'll let me . . ." she inched closer, "show you around?"

I couldn't help but notice a certain . . . debauchery filled tone in her voice. But that was crazy talk . . . she was looking to be a nun. Not . . . well, she certainly didn't possess the same intentions I had in mind. Though I found myself slightly giving in. "And just why would I let you do that?" I whispered.

She gave me a sympathetic look, which I found rather confusing, thank you very much. Nevertheless, she spoke with an endearing tone, "I am a woman whose mother was very religious and always wanted me to join a convent . . . when she died two years ago, I made a promise to her, and now I am honoring it."

"How . . . sweet. Now if you'll excuse me, I-"

"Wait!" She grabbed onto my wrist forcefully. I grunted. Ow, she had a grip. "I never said I liked being here."

Was she coming onto me? What a lecherous woman seeking . . . well, lechery. Did she honestly think that I would just take a tour around with her, lead me back to her room, hoping she'll get lucky with a pirate, such as meself? . . . Wait a minute, who said this was a bad thing!

"What is your name?" I asked. What? You'll never know just when you might need the proper leverage.

"Angelica," she responded. Her Spanish accent made her name seem more beautiful than it already was. "And yours?"

"Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Well,Captain Jack Sparrow, where is your ship, hmm?" She was quite consistent.

"Docked, love. As should we be," I remarked, quite cleverly, if I do say so meself.

She gasped, playfully. "Mr. Sparrow-!"

"Captain, Captain Sparrow." I was very precise with my identifier.

"Well, then, Captain Sparrow, what exactly are you suggesting?" She was quite the tease, as well.

"I think you know very well what I'm suggesting. As you've hinted earlier something in similarity to the thing that I am just briefly suggesting right now. Unless the hint to something in similarity to the thing I am suggesting now was misinterpreted then just scratch the thing I am suggesting right now because then I shall be on my way to find the thing I am suggesting now, as it seems I will not be getting what I was searching for, and also the thing I am suggesting now here, and there's no use in wasting my time since I really should be on my way anyway, savvy?"

"I have no idea what you just said," she stated. I made a face. She then added, "And I don't care."

My eyes widened. "Where have you been all my life?"
- *** -
Jack Sparrow came back to reality, as he had no idea how things had gone so downhill with Angelica. Where had he gone wrong? . . . Oh right, he left her. So...did that mean she would be the one waiting for him once every ten years? What was she up to now? Did the convent take her back? Was she married? Have children? What?

Wait a minute. Why was Jack so curious? That was far too many years ago . . . she had probably forgotten about him long ago. But if this was so, why did Jack care so much?

"Jack!"

"Ah!" Jack was startled by the unexpected sound of his name. He looked up from the heart. It was Gibbs. "Gibbs you slimy git, what do you want?"

"The heart, Cap'n," Gibbs said sternly and quietly. He looked the down.

Jack smiled; he thought to himself that Gibbs must be losing it. "Yes, Mister Gibbs that is the object that I hold in my hand." He lifted his hand up to show him, only to realize that there was nothing there. Jack widened his eyes and a frightened look mustered upon his face. Where was the bloody heart? Jack gasped quietly. "...Oh bugger."

After a few minutes of looking, Gibbs pointed. "Cap'n, there!"

Jack looked to where he was pointing. "Oh. The wind must've taken it out." He walked through the crowd nonchalantly, dodging bullets being fired and clashing swords. He finally had gotten to the heart, and just as he was bending down, a sword had been flown directly between Jack's legs. His eyes widened, as he looked up to find who was there.

Will Turner.

Jack, becoming slightly less intimidated hauled the sword out of its spot in the ship, and prepared to stab the heart. Just as the sword would have pierced the organ, Will held a gun to Jack's head. "Can't let you do that, Jack."

"Oh? And why not?" he questioned. "This is what you wanted all along, eh? Freedom. Eh? If I stab the heart, your father is free forever and you get your bonny lass as well. So I ask you, dear William, would you like to stab the heart and become part of the Flying Dutchman? Or shall I?"

Meanwhile. ..

Elizabeth stood, gathered herself together and took a deep breath. She was still in slight pain from the sharp, shiny blade of the last crew member she was fighting, but she could bear it; though it was a burden. Elizabeth didn't know what came over her, but for some reason she felt rage. Rage towards Jack and his scaredy-cat, eccentric attitude. She couldn't stand it. Oddly enough, this new found emotion she developed granted her a sense of power. She felt so much power, that she confided in herself that she could kill this disgusting piece of encrusted Flying Dutchman living Hell. And surprisingly enough . . . she didn't.

"Jonesy!" Jack exclaimed, this time with confidence, and he didn't hold back. His voice was loud and clear.

That did it. Elizabeth was boiling now. She didn't know what came over her. Maybe it was because she was confused by the concept of the heart. Maybe it was because she mourning, avenging her father's death. Maybe it was because she was angry at Jack, for some reason, that he was a coward, maybe that he was toying with her emotions. She didn't know. Nevertheless, she grunted and without giving it a single thought, she flung her sword all the way to Jack. It flew in the air for a few seconds, and during those seconds, Jack reacted quickly. By instinct, he dropped the dagger to the floor and held the heart out, blocking his face where Elizabeth was aiming. Everything happened so fast, and before anyone knew it, Davy Jones groaned deeply and fell to the floor. All the hauls, groans, grunts, clashing, clanking, fell silent. The only noise anyone heard was the clinging and clanking of weapons being dropped to the floor. Everyone huddled around in a circle, quite crowded. But everyone's eyes saw the same thing.

Davy Jones was dead.

But who had done it?

It wasn't Will, he had been standing right next to him.

It wasn't Barbossa, he had been busy fighting five crewmen at once and had not a clue in the world where the heart could possibly be.

It wasn't Pintel or Ragetti, because they were . . . well now, who exactly knew their whereabouts?

Was it Jack? It couldn't have been. Could it? Did he take the dagger and pierce the heart? But wait, this was what he wanted all along . . . right? He played the scene back in his head.

"Jonesy!" I had yelled from the top of my lungs. And this time, if memory serves me correctly, that foul damned beast heard me. I was moments away from stabbing his cold heart, when something stopped me. Something caused me to drop the dagger.

Wait.

Someone threw a sword at me. Right. But I'm not wounded . . . wait. . . there must have been something blocking me. It was the heart. Right, I used the heart to shield my face. But that means the sword pierced the heart. So whoever one of these sorry blokes threw that sword . . . they're the captain of the Flying Dutchman.

Jack had gotten it right. Though now he just needed to figure out who threw that sword. But how was he going to go about doing this?

"Who threw that sword at me?" . . . Maybe Jack had taken a few too many swigs of rum.

"What?" Will asked dumbfounded. What did that have to do with anything, he thought.

Gibbs stared at Jack in amazement. The man knew that Jack was selfish, but this was just getting out of line. So, he decided to voice his opinion in the nicest way possible. He was the first mate, after all. "Listen, Jack, I think we should maybe try to figure this out first, and then—"

"I did."

Heads turned, armor clanked and the sound of stomping footsteps all made their way towards the one person's voice. Before looking, Jack smiled to himself a bit, that twisted crooked smile of his. He turned to face the culprit. And what he saw was almost enough to kill him. It was . . . Elizabeth. As soon as Jack's eyes laid on hers, that smile of his was gone so quick, it was like someone slapped him across the face. (Though, he was pretty much used to that by now.) He studied her face. He realized that she looked confused, almost pained as those two words had absconded from her lips. Jack got a tingling sensation in the pit of his stomach. Almost like the feeling you get when you ride down an exhilarating roller coaster.

Yes. Jack Sparrow was scared. This wasn't necessarily new for him; he had been scared lots of times. But those times, he didn't let it bother him, and he certainly didn't show it because, where would that get him? He stared at her, not in a demeaning way but, in a compassionate way. Elizabeth noticed this and started to place a look of confusion on her countenance. She wasn't sure at the moment what to do, but to wait for a response from somebody. Anybody.

But everyone just stared and stood in awe. So, she decided to add a little more detail. "I stabbed the heart." She nodded along with her words. Though they were the truth, it seemed as if no one believed it. All of them emerged in laughter, all of them, except Jack. He knew that that was her who was on the other end of that sword. He gave her a look of pity, and Elizabeth recognized it through the raging crowd.
But since the infamous Jack Sparrow was the only one that believed Elizabeth . . . where did that leave her?

Sorry for having it be so long, I was going to write more too but then I decided to stop and leave some for chapter two! Also, did you like my Jack Sparrow rant? I studied some of his other rants and tried to come up with my own so yeah . . . So did you like? Tell me in a review!

Word Count; 4,109

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