Protector of Life

Part 8

His ship was in extremely capable hands—more capable than his at the moment, that was certain. There was nothing he would be able to do on deck besides destroy morale by jumping at shadows. He wasn't hiding and he wasn't sulking. That was the most important thing to keep in mind.

Besides, he was doing better than he'd expected. He hadn't resorted to sitting in a corner with his hands over his ears and his eyes closed, going 'la la la can't hear you'.

"I feel that would be an extremely entertaining sight. Care to demonstrate?"

Though at this rate, it might not be long until he was.

"Once this is over—assuming your ship survives, of course—they'll likely vote to replace you as captain, correct?" Billy's voice was a low purr, halfway between amusement and boredom. "That is how your world works, no? They are not indebted to you. They can replace you at any time. Perhaps these ones will be kind enough not to—"

"The Pearl's mine, and the crew's a good bunch of men. If they do want me to step aside until I figure out a way to deal with you, then that's what I'll do." Eyes fixed firmly ahead of him, away from the desk where the idol lay next to the reclining jaguar, Jack did his best to keep his voice calm. Project enough calm, and you usually started feeling it yourself. Eventually. "Ana-Maria will make a fine captain."

"Assuming they allow her to be the captain. A woman, of a slave race… some might object."

The sound of shuffling papers actually caused him to turn, but though the big cat was splayed out on its back now as though it hadn't a care in the world, nothing had actually moved on his desk.

"Only a fool would object to her face—or to Gibbs's, or Steven's, or any of a number of others. She's more than earned her place aboard this ship and shown her capability as first mate." The pirate captain stared in morbid fascination as the cat's head shifted, causing it to lie against the idol. Its formlessness, despite all appearances, meant that this placed the idol as sprouting from somewhere within its left cheek. "And don't even bring up the prospect of her not givin' the Pearl back, Billy. We've already been there and done that."

"Yes, but you had also already established my inability to physically interact with you—at least at this point in time—and yet you still dodged each time I moved to play." Rolling over again, the great cat stretched lazily, tail swishing through the cabin wall.

Jack felt his teeth grit despite his best efforts to remain composed. "Show me a man who doesn't dodge when a bloody fat cat's lunging at him with its teeth bared, and I'll show you a man who obviously doesn't want to live anymore."

"I fear what you want has little to do with that question anymore, little bird."

A deceptively effortless leap landed the jaguar half-way across the cabin, forcing Jack to whip his head to the side to keep the creature in his line of sight.

"Oh, do that again, Sparrow. I love the way the toys in your hair move." The jaguar threw out a paw toward the pirate's head, causing Jack to instinctively duck away. Despite what he knew from his brief stint on deck earlier, he could almost swear he felt a shift in the air by his ear.

"Why are you doing this?" The words came out as a low, guttural growl, but he was fairly certain it was his own frustration with being unable to help while his ship and crew faced Devil-knew-what than anything Billy was doing to him.

Fairly certain.

"This is my duty. My destiny. I cannot explain it to one such as you." The cat paced around him as it spoke, and it was disconcerting to see it rub against his legs at each pass but feel nothing.

"Why not?" He sighed in exasperation as the cat jumped back onto the desk without answering. "I'm willing to listen."

"No, you are willing to bargain and search for loop-holes. You are willing to hear why I do what I do so that you may use my words in an effort to save yourself." The words started in an angry hiss, ended in a coughing roar and a display of teeth. What had been a large cat before now seemed impossibly huge as its fur stood on end, the tail now thicker than his arm. "You cannot, though. My actions are bound but not dictated by my duty. My lady's power gives me the freedom to choose, and I choose to shed blood, just as you and yours have."

"I'm not—"

"Not a murderer, I know, you have said it before. Do not try to lie and say that you are not trying to trick me into setting you free, though. All your thoughts are bent upon escape, little caged bird." The cat settled one paw over the amulet, hiding it from view, though the chain protruded like long silver claws. "Even now you hope that the increase in distance you are able to move from my… house means you are successfully fighting my influence. The opposite is true, Sparrow. The further you can move from it before the weakness strikes, the closer bound I am to you. So much interference in your life from the gods. So weak the union now, of body, mind, soul. A hunt that usually takes me four days, five, a week, will take me mayhap two."

"If you're so close to winning, why bother bragging about it to me?" He was on his feet and moving toward the cat before he could stop himself, anger and the sickening sensation of fear, for his ship, for his crew, for himself, overriding self-control. "Why not just finish it, why keep coming out here to talk to me? You could keep me trapped in those bloody nightmares. You could—"

"Possess you." The purr was back in Billy's voice as the cat settled down again, green eyes sweeping over him. "Yes, you are near that point. And I could. I shall. I simply… enjoy having prey that will acknowledge me as something outside of themselves and their petty devils. You are… different." You remind me of…

Jack's eyes narrowed as he studied the cat. Those words hadn't been 'spoken', or whatever it was Billy usually did. They had been soft as a whisper, an afterthought that he wasn't meant to catch. "I remind you of… who?"

Without a second's hesitation, hardly seeming to move, the creature leapt from the top of the desk at the pirate, lips curled back in a silent threat. He didn't have a chance to dodge as the great cat crashed into him, literally into him, form vanishing as it came in contact with his body.

Pain struck then, pain that he hadn't expected and so hadn't been able to prepare for. He started to scream, but the sound caught in his throat, turned to a snarl of outrage. All sense of space failed, gravity and physical objects becoming mere hindrances as his body contorted without his willing it, muscles stretched almost to the snapping point.

Then even the physical sensation of pain was gone, replaced by a crushing sense of pressure, of presence. Thinking became nearly impossible, reduced to fragments, snippets of emotion. Fear. Anger. Fury.

Hunger.

A deep hunger, beyond anything he had ever experienced. A hunger for retribution, for vengeance, that managed to make his quest against Barbossa pale to insignificance. A hunger for blood.

Stop it!

Without warning the pressure faded, sensation returning in an overwhelming tidal wave. He was crouched on all fours on the deck, panting heavily. Even the consideration of movement brought warning twinges from both arms and legs, leaving both getting up and falling over completely out of the picture.

A slow, careful raise of his head brought Billy into his line of vision. The jaguar seemed slightly the worse for wear itself, muscle spasms causing the fur to twitch spasmodically. The large mouth was open, breath coming in panting, rasping gasps.

"Bit off… a bit more… than you could chew?" Jack tried to meet the great cat's gaze, but it turned pointedly away. "Never underestimate me, mate."

"I didn't underestimate you, pirate. I overestimated myself." The cat turned to him, and there was something almost… pathetic about the way its head hung down, green eyes dull.

Jack felt something like pity stir briefly, an emotion which he quickly discarded. He could still feel where the creature had been, inside his head, inside his body. If it wasn't willing to bargain with him or even explain why it did what it did, he sure as hell wasn't willing to care.

The sound of cannon-fire split the thickening silence, and Jack lurched to his feet despite protests from various muscles.

Unfortunately, the cat was also standing and facing him by the time he had made certain up was, indeed, where he thought it was.

"You cannot help them." The cat looked about how he felt, shaky, hesitant on its feet.

"What are you going to do? Jump at me from the shadows again?" A bitter grin pulled at the pirate's mouth as he stepped forward, crowding in on the cat's space, forcing it to back up a step if it wished to continue looking at him. "I think after what you just did, Billy, that might have lost a tad bit of its threat."

"You cannot help them." Crouching now, fur bristling again in an attempt to make itself look more dangerous, the cat hissed the words.

"You can't stop me. Remember? I can walk right—" Attempting to move forward, he found his leg thudding against something warm and soft… soft like fleece-covered steel, the muscles beneath the fur coiled wires.

He didn't waste time cursing. Better just to leap back as far as he could and draw weapons.

"That's all right. If I can touch you, I can hurt you." The pistol was heavy in his hand, almost too heavy given the continued trembling of the muscles in his arm. Now was not the time for his usually-reliable aim to be off.

The cat seemed just as surprised by the sudden contact as he had been, though, tongue flashing down and across its chest multiple times as if to erase his scent, the feel of him.

"Did I say two days before, Sparrow?" The purr was a deceptively calm rumble as the cat gazed at him, tongue still intent upon its grooming. "Mayhap two more hours before you break to me."

"I don't think so, mate." He waved the gun slightly, never moving it enough so that the shot would go wide. "Nothing to stop me from dropping you in your tracks where you are."

"Except for the fact that you know it won't kill me." An infuriating calm again settled over the jaguar as it settled back on its haunches. "And it would be more than just a tad bit painful for you."

"So what are you going to do, sit there all day?" Derision and boredom were carefully mixed in his voice. "I'm just bloody terrified of that. I'm not planning on falling asleep, you've seen that I can kick you out of my mind, no matter how divided you think it is, and if I have to drop you even for a few seconds in order to see who in hell is firing at my ship, I wi—"

"You have not seen my lady's power." The cat stared straight at him as it spoke, face suddenly a mask of deference, an incongruous touch of grief also present. "All you have seen is my power, the power of a guardian. Would you see the power of a god?"

Jack was half-way through opening his mouth to reply with a very firm negative and a "maybe next time" when the cat reached up with one paw, ran it through the air… and opened a window into Hell.

X X X

"Did you hear—"

"We haven't the time to deal with that right now, Gibbs." Ana-Maria kept her voice firm, channeling all of her fear and frustration into fury at the ship that had just opened fire on Jack's Pearl. He would never forgive them if they returned his ship full of holes.

Always assuming they got the opportunity to return the ship, something the half-strangled cry she'd caught didn't bode well for.

The older man nodded hastily, glancing once more toward Jack's cabin before turning his full attention again out to sea. "Run or fight? If those shots were any indication, we've got two minutes, maybe less, before they're in range."

"How many ashore still?"

"Eleven."

Gibbs didn't name anybody, and for that she was grateful. Best not to put faces to those she might have to leave behind. Still, the thought of leaving eleven able-bodied crew behind for Lord-knew-who to find…

The Pearl was in top form, pulling to be let loose. If Ana-Maria didn't know better, she'd swear the ship, too, wanted to hurt something in place of the demon trying to steal her captain, the demon she was unable to touch or even see.

If they were to maneuver around, try to put the wind in their favor…

"We fight." The first declaration was low, the captain to the first mate. Turning away from Gibbs, she found herself the center of a silent, apprehensive attention. Even those who didn't know the specifics of what was happening knew that something was very, very wrong with Jack. They were nervous, spooked and unable to say by what. It was a cheap ploy, but giving them something to focus that energy on would keep them from thinking about it too much. Keep them from coming up with any ideas of their own about what should be done and when.

"We fight!"

The cheer that greeted her words was fierce, angry, exuberant.

Stomach clenching as she ordered men to the guns, to the sails, she only hoped the number of casualties thanks to this decision would be less than eleven.

X X X

Smoke from cannon and gun-fire drifted across the deck of the ship, curling up to but not through the hole in empty space that the cat had cut. Blood also sprayed the deck, some of it pooled, some smeared and plastered with boot-prints. More than one pool still held the man who had made it. He could hear nothing, though, no clash of blades, no men screaming, not even the sound of timber settling.

"What did you—"

"Do you recognize the ship?" All trace of anything but cool determination was again missing from the cat's voice.

"No. How would I—" But he did. As his eyes adjusted to the odd angle, treating the hole like a window rather than a physically impossible manifestation of otherworldly strength, details began to jump out at him. There were almost certainly a million ships out there in the Royal Navy like that one. It was possible that it was merely a similar design, perhaps built in the same shipyard by the same hands. There was no reason to assume it was the ship it reminded him of.

Except for the fact that he knew that ship, almost as well as he knew the Pearl. It was impossible not to get to know a ship remarkably well when out of the two men attempting to crew her you're the only one who has any sort of nautical knowledge.

"I believe her name is the Interceptor." The cat paced back toward him, eyes locked on the hole it had made.

It actually took Jack a moment to remember to cover the creature with his gun. "That's a very nice trick, Billy, but y'see, the Interceptor's been at the bottom of the ocean for a good long time now, so you can stop messin' with my head."

"This is not an illusion, little bird. In your world, she was sunk while under the direction of your first mate during your quest to reclaim the Pearl. In others… things did not play out in quite the same way." The cat settled down on the deck, resting its head on its paws, eyes still locked on the rip in space.

"My world." Jack swallowed, trying to determine whether this was truly real or simply another game. He couldn't feel the cat's presence in his mind, but he hadn't been able to while he was trapped in the nightmare, either. Not until things started turning up twisted.

Then again, holes into other men's bloody deaths were a bit twisted and unreal.

"Whose world is it, then?"

"I've no idea. Just certainly not yours. You've been dead for almost four years over there." The cat actually deigned to flick a quick glance at him. Apparently dissatisfied with the lack of reaction, it continued. "In that world, the Interceptor crew decided to fight from the beginning, giving proper credit to the myths of the Pearl's speed. Barbossa had taken little care of the ship, given that its almost-sentience seemed to have placed it under the curse, as well. The myths say it was her choice to die there, to give up her life having finally felt her true captain's presence again. You made it aboard the Interceptor before the Pearl sank, while Barbossa and his men had a very long swim to shore. You chased him for several more years, and died bringing him down. Some say you chose to die in that way, as well."

"How would you know that?" The pirate spoke slowly, trying to keep the cat and the window between worlds both in his view.

"Because I have visited that world before." Again the almost-human smile ghosted across the cat's face. "It was one I thought you would appreciate seeing. Watch closely, now. I believe the action is headed back our way."

As if on cue, men slid into view. He could see the sparks as pistols fired, the catching of blade-on-blade and blade-on-flesh, the open mouths that denoted screams, curses, prayers, but he could hear nothing. Everything was still muted.

One of the combatants face's suddenly slid into sharp focus, and Jack took a step forward.

"Gibbs is his name, correct? Joshamee Gibbs. He and your woman maintained control of the ship, striking up a truce and eventually perhaps a friendship after your death. They drink together on your birthday, stay as far away from each other as possible on the day you died." The cat lolled to the side, stretching lazily. "I believe she is captain at this point in time, though you would often be hard-pressed to determine which is captain and which mate from the way they act."

"He's hurt." Jack's entire attention was fixated now on the drama enfolding silently before him. Blood was spreading in a growing stain from Gibbs's left shoulder down his arm, though the man continued to slash at his enemy.

"He's going to die. I believe the woman is already dead." Exaltation was the main emotion in the jaguar's voice, but it was overly present, more forced than real.

If Jack didn't know better, he would swear there was pity lurking somewhere in the creature's tone.

"He will die there just as all here will die shortly. I thought it would be only fitting that you see the amount of blood that will stain the decks of your ship before the day is over."

Jack didn't pay any attention to the cat, his eyes struggling to pick out Gibbs and his opponents from the seething mass of men. It wasn't a difficult task, as the window the cat had cut seemed to have been perfectly chosen to showcase his battle. Without even being aware he was doing it, the pirate captain took another step closer to the tear, right hand raised as though to touch it, left half-heartedly pointing the pistol in the general direction of the jaguar.

He saw the second man well before Gibbs ever could have, a sailor staggering away from his own now-finished battle, blood rolling down his face from a scalp-wound. For a few precious seconds he wasn't sure whether the man was friend or foe. Then a tightening of the man's jaw, a snarl that could only be disgust and the raising of his sword again as he moved toward the older pirate's back left little doubt as to his intentions.

Before the blow could land, before Billy could say anything more infuriating or even cautionary, Jack jumped through the window.