The Deepest Circle

Plot: Jack has been betrayed yet again by another treacherous shipmate, and he starts to believe that his old friends are beginning to turn on him, too. How can they prove to him otherwise before he goes mad with hate?

Chapter Rating: PG-13, for both active and implied violence

Author's Notes: Thanks again to Merrie. :) Also to the lovely reviewers-- you really made my day. Thank you! Also, if some of you were confused about some things in Ch. 1 and told me about them, I've tried to clear them up in the following chapter. But keep in mind, what happens next is not going to be pretty. This is where it all begins.

x x x x x

Things were bleary when Jack opened his eyes. The air smelled like rotting limes, and his arm was still stinging, but the pain had dulled a bit. When his vision cleared up, he found himself lying on a straw-stuffed mattress in a small cabin; he was still on the Pearl. The ship was moving, he noticed, as the cabin swayed back and forth. He glanced down at his arm, which was now bandaged, and the blood seeped through the gauze like red ink. He winced as he sat up and leaned against the wall. Then it hit him like lightning: Peony. He remembered hearing a scream before he passed out; it could have been his imagination, perhaps, but it was unlikely. She had much to fear on this ship.

The door opened suddenly and it caused Jack to jump a bit. To his great relief, Anamaria stood there clutching a cup of water and a plate with a few scraps. She looked shocked to see him alive, let alone awake. "Jack," she breathed. He smiled weakly back at her.

"Hello, Ana."

She rushed forward and knelt beside him, and took his arm in her hands. "Are you all right?"

"I can't really say," he muttered with a cough.

"Did you get her?" asked Anamaria in a low tone of voice. Her eyes widened in urgency.

"Who?"

"The girl. The Turner girl."

Jack swallowed down something that tasted vile and disgusting as he tried not to imagine what had happened to dear Peony. "Yes, I got her."

"Is she all right?"

"I--"

There was a swift tapping at the door, and suddenly a woman--girl, really-- no more than 25 years old appeared, leaning against the doorframe. She was strikingly beautiful, with fiery red hair and chestnut eyes. She wore a ragged jacket, thick boots and loose pants with two pistols holstered at her shapely waist. She held a cutlass in her right hand as a small grin began to grow on her lips.

"Back, I see," she said slowly. An Irish accent tugged at her words. "Very good, Captain Sparrow. Very good."

"I got you the girl," Jack said hesitantly.

The woman gave out a full-fledged grin now, and traced the cutlass blade against the old wood of the door. "Is that right?"

"You promised to leave," pressed Jack, frowning slightly at her easiness about the whole situation. "You said if I got the girl, you'd send out the ransom note and that was all--"

"I know what I said, Sparrow!" she snapped suddenly. She cocked the pistol on her left side and aimed it at Jack's face for a few moments. Her stern look faded and she smiled again, letting out a breezy laugh. "Ah, I ain't gonna shoot you, darlin', you're far too good for that, I fear."

Jack was tense, but he wasn't afraid.

The woman turned to Anamaria and gave a nudge of her head in the direction of the door. Ana looked vastly upset and scowled, but she left without a word.

In a flash of movement, the woman darted for Jack and held the blade to his throat with the same terrible grin on her face.

"You wouldn't want to kill me, Luciana," breathed Jack steadily, trying not to make a sudden movement.

"Oh, I know, Jack," she drawled. She bent down to his level and pressed the blade harder. "But some day it'll be such fun."

"Where's Peony?" he hissed. She recoiled slightly.

"Is that her name? Peony?" Luciana took the blade off Jack's neck and examined the tip of it with her fingers. "She's a very sweet young lass, isn't she?"

"Where is she?"

"Now, now, Jack." The blade was back, only now it pressed on his arm wound. He winced loudly as it pierced the bandage and dug into his already open flesh. "We wouldn't want two of these on ya, now would we?" She patted his other arm with the edge of the cutlass and laughed, then put it back in its sheath. She took Jack by his bad arm and hoisted him up off the bed. His knees buckled, of course, but she hauled him forward all the same.

They were outside now. The sun was brilliant and it made Jack squint, and he tried to stand upright, although his whole body seemed to scream with pain.

There was his crew, all before him on the deck--or those who were once his crew. They appeared solemn and apologetic, but none dared looked as if they would make a move to force Luciana off him. All except Anamaria, who looked ready to pounce.

"Mister Gibbs!" shouted Luciana, who kept violently jerking the sagging Jack upright. The old man looked up as his name was called.

"Captain?"

"Bring out the girl," she said. Jack stared at Gibbs with as much hope in his face as he could muster, but Gibbs only sighed sadly and retreated into the captain's quarters. "For god's sake, Sparrow!" Luciana was laughing crazily now. "Look at ye!" Jack cried out as he felt her fist collide hard with his gut, but he bit back the scream he normally would have emitted. He couldn't let his men see him like this.

Gibbs emerged, holding the small girl in his arms. She looked terrified. The only harm done to her that Jack could see was a small bruise around her arm, as if someone had grabbed her tightly.

"Ah, Miss Peony!" Luciana cried, delighted.

"Jack?" Peony called, with the tears apparent in her tone of voice. Gibbs put her down and she ran over to the pirate and threw her arms around him. "Jack, I want to go home! I want to go home!" she sobbed.

Jack said nothing, only a quiet "Shh," but Peony's grip on him only tightened. Luciana let go of him.

"Peony, darling," she said, pulling a short dagger out of one of her pockets.

Jack leaned forward over the little girl. "No..." He suspected the crew also looked somewhat more alert now, but it didn't matter to him. Peony was all his now. He couldn't let anything happen to her...

"It's all right, love, don't be afraid," Luciana cooed to the sobbing little girl. "Give me your hand."

Peony looked away from her and wept into Jack's shoulder.

The pistol was whipped out again and held to Jack's forehead. "Put out your hand, Peony," Luciana hissed.

The hand came out quickly. Jack nearly cried out in protest until Luciana placed the dagger in Peony's open little palm. "You see this knife?" Peony was whimpering hysterically. "I want you to stick it right here"--she pointed to the side of Jack's chest that was opposite his heart--"can you do that for me?"

"No!" Peony cried, shaking her head furiously. The pistol against Jack's head pressed down further as she cocked it.

"Do it."

Peony glanced at Jack with her large eyes smothered with tears, and she shook her head slowly.

"It's all right, darling," Jack said softly, "no worries. Stick it in old Jack."

"No..."

Jack leaned in and kissed her forehead, then whispered in her ear as she cried. "You have to do this, darling, for your mummy and daddy. They love you so much; they don't want you to get hurt. Just listen to what the lady tells you to do, aye?"

"Okay, Jack," she breathed.

The pain came fast into his chest, like a smack of fire. He choked aloud and recoiled from Peony's embrace, and looked down: the knife was embedded up to the handle in his chest.

And then before he knew it, there was a loud shot, and Peony stopped crying.

x x x x x

"I'm back," Will announced, shutting the front door behind him with the bandage material in a small bag. Silence greeted him. "Hello?"

"Where did you go?" asked Elizabeth, startling him. She was at the top of the staircase, and looked distraught.

"To the market to get Jack some supplies for that gash of his."

"Gash?" Elizabeth stared at her husband blankly. "He was wounded?"

"Yes, didn't you see? A big, awful wound all along his arm."

"Goodness. When did that happen?"

"Well, he's had it since he's arrived."

Elizabeth didn't say anything for a few minutes. "What...what do you mean?"

"What, didn't you see it?" asked Will numbly. "Where is he?"

"I-I let him take Peony down to the Pearl..."

"You what?"

Elizabeth started to tremble, and it was even apparent to Will, who was a good twenty feet away from her. "Oh, goodness, I didn't know..."

Will didn't say anything, he only turned around and left the house again, slamming the door behind him. An exasperated Elizabeth scurried down the stairs and shoved her bare feet into her indoor slippers and caught up with him. He was already halfway down the hill, as the sun was nearly set and the sky was cast in a pale lavender. The warm breeze started to get a bit chillier as it sighed through the palm trees.

"Will!" she shouted after him. "Will, don't be cross with me, it wasn't my fault--"

"Not your fault?" Will hollered, halting and turning to her. "I'm surprised at you! I thought you would be reasonable enough about this and not let Jack take off with our daughter in his current. She's our DAUGHTER, Elizabeth--"

"I know that!" she snapped back. "But I had no idea that Jack had been wounded, and yes, even though I had a bit of a hunch that he was acting strangely, it wouldn't have struck me as very odd, since Jack is acting strange half the time anyway!" Will didn't say anything. His jaw clenched tightly as he stared hard at the ground. "She's my daughter, too," Elizabeth said after a few moments. "Don't be cross with me, Will. I...I can't..." She started to break down now, and she covered her face with her hands.

Will clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and gathered his weeping lover in his arms. "Shh, it's all right," he murmured, kissing her forehead. "She'll be all right. We just have to get down there now, and give Jack a piece of our minds, and hope to God he's all right."

"Yes," Elizabeth said after a few moments of constant sobs. She wiped the corners of her eyes with her hands. "I'm so worried for her, Will...she's so little."

"She'll be fine." Will took her hand and began leading her down to the main part of town. They arrived at the docks some twenty minutes later, and started browsing the many ships looking for the Pearl; the Pearl, which was already long gone.

x x x x x

James Norrington watched the sun sink below the choppy horizon, a spectacle which he had witnessed for the last thirteen years daily, on this same spot on the beach whenever possible. It was a mile or so away from the main docking area of Port Royale, on a bit of property that he owned close to his house, and it was a nice scrap of peace that he could have at the end of a busy day.

Jack Sparrow's brief return had puzzled him. He had been known to stay with the Will and Elizabeth--calling them "The Turners" seemed odd to him, and although he tried to convince himself that he wasn't jealous of Will's conquest of the woman he loved, he knew that was precisely the problem--for at least a week. Maybe two, sometimes even a month. But today it had just been for one day, and he had brought Peony along with him. Perhaps it was a short trip with the little girl and he planned to return in the morning, or even later that night. He knew it was her birthday after all.

Norrington had a special place in his heart for Peony. She looked so much like Elizabeth, had inherited her natural, glowing beauty, and she had a spirit he admired. She was a good, true little girl. And there was no one that Peony loved more than Jack Sparrow.

He had seen them together at various visits. Ever since she was an infant, she loved Jack. He was always playing a game with her, teasing her, giving her presents and riddles, but most of all it was his stories. Jack could tell marvelous stories of his adventures aboard the Black Pearl in the local tavern, that started out just being told to Peony (and perhaps Will and Elizabeth if they were interested), and soon most people in the entire tavern would gather around the pirate. But his eyes always were locked on Peony. Norrington supposed that she was the best thing in Jack's life. They were inseparable.

And Norrington also felt a twinge of jealousy at this. He sometimes wished he were more like Jack; not so hard-nosed and stiff and control-hungry. He wanted a relationship with Peony, as well, but the most personal he ever got with her was getting her to call him James rather than by his last name.

It was dark now. Norrington sighed and was about to turn back to the main docks to continue working, until he spotted something drifting in the water. It wasn't too small, but it wasn't enormous either. It floated, limp and weighty with the current. It was only until he looked harder when his heart seemed to stop and the twinges of fear began to strike in his brain.

It was Peony.