The Deepest Circle (Chapter 10)
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: R for language and thematic elements.
Author's Notes: All right. It gets sorta scary here. Be warned. Thanks to Merrie, and I hope all you readers enjoy!
x x x x x
Will pounded of the door of the jailhouse as it started to rain.
Caribbean showers were frequent, short, and even sometimes pleasant. But at night they were downright irritating. They burnt out the torches and clouds covered the moon, so unless you had a covered lantern you were forced to wander around until you found your destination in the dark.
The door opened and Will stepped inside, running his fingers through his dripping hair.
"Can I help you, sir?" asked a man in uniform sitting at a desk in the center of the room.
"Yes, I believe you're holding a man named Jack Sparrow in one of your cells."
Suddenly Will heard a huge crash and a shout coming from downstairs, and the seated guard said, "Yes. That would be him."
Will suddenly turned very cold and afraid, feeling his chest tighten. "I want to see him."
The guard stared. "I'm afraid I can't let you. He's far too violent for visitors."
"What do you mean, vi--"
"What's your name, sir?"
"William Turner," he said briskly. "Please, it's urgent; and I may be able to calm him down." The guard only shook his head. Frustrated, Will dug into his pocket and smacked ten shillings onto the table.
"...Let me get the keys," said the guard, now smiling intently.
They went down the stairs, and the guard told Will that he'd best keep his distance from Jack. Once the cell was in view, Will finally understood why.
Jack was a mess. His shirt was so ripped to shreds it no longer seemed to function properly as an article of clothing; his lean, visible torso was glazed thickly in blood, sweat, and grime. His wrists were chained together, and he was literally throwing himself against the wall of the jail cell, shouting curses.
He caught sight of Will and the guard and stopped to stare at them. "Why, dear William," Jack drawled, pressing his body up against the steel bars.
"Jack," said Will cautiously, taking a step forward. He jumped back when Jack suddenly banged against the cell loudly.
"Get over here," Jack hissed. Will's heart was racing. He had literally never felt so terrified. His whole body seemed frozen, but it jolt back to life when Jack threw both his fists against the bars again, sending a huge clap echoing through the walls. "Come here!"
Will took a few steps until he was roughly arm's reach away from Jack. The pirate's eyes were red-rimmed and crazy, and the clear lines visibly parting the dirty stains down his face were evidence that he had been crying earlier. Or laughing.
"What did you do, Jack?" Will asked shakily. Jack grinned back at him.
"I can't tell you how pleased I am to see you," he hissed through clenched teeth. "And I cannot wait to cut out your pretty face."
Will felt something cold compress at his spine. "Jack--"
Thunder boomed outside and startled him, and Jack rammed into the cell again. "William!" he screamed. "Don't touch me! Don't you fucking touch me!"
"What's wrong with you?" Will's voice barely escaped his lips in a small, hoarse whisper.
"Quite frankly, he's crazy, sir," the guard muttered. "Completely twisted. Nearly killed Commodore Norrington this afternoon, it took five men to bring him here."
Jack started to laugh manically, backing away from the front of the cell. "I know your tricks, you pompous piece of shit. I know all your fucking tricks."
"Jack," Will said gently. He took another step forward.
"Don't come near me!" Jack hollered.
"Jack, calm down--"
"No! I tell her to stop, and she won't! Shut up!"
A few seconds later, Jack was back at the front of the cell, clinging to the bars with his thin, bleeding fingers, nose-to-nose with Will.
"She won't stop," said Jack breathlessly. "I just want to cut her fucking tongue out and shove it down..."
Will's stomach began to churn. "What are you talking about?"
"Oh, Mr. Turner..." Jack laughed coldly and he reached out and touched Will's face. His hands were freezing. Suddenly the pirate jerked his hand away, the jagged nails leaving a small scratch on Will's cheek. It only stung momentarily.
"Jack, what's the--"
"God, I hate you!" Jack shrieked. "I hate you!" He turned his back to Will and slammed the stone wall with his fists. "Shut up, all of you! Shut up!" Jack kept moaning the
two words as he leaned his back against the wall and slid down into the corner.
"Let me go in," said Will, turning to the guard.
"Sir, you can't--"
"Give me the keys!"
The guard rolled his eyes, now in no mood to argue, and tossed them to Will. He shoved them into the cell door and thrust it open, then quickly closed it behind him.
Suddenly Will had a terrible feeling in his gut. This was exactly the same image he'd had more than a month before in his sleep. Jack slouching in a corner on the floor, staring wide at him, covered in blood...
(i held her by the throat as i pulled the trigger)
(REDRUM)
Suddenly Jack twitched and groaned, then slumped over onto the wall of the cell. "...Oh, god..." His breaths were so short and quick it seemed as if he were hyperventilating. "Oh my god..."
"Jack?" Will cleared his throat, still hesitant to approach the pirate. He wondered why had even asked to go inside the cell in the first place. A last-minute attempt to make Jack get his act together, Will supposed, and it seemed to have worked.
Jack paused and glanced up, his eyes darkening in the soft torchlight. "Will..." He tried to stand, but his legs proved to be desperately weak and they buckled beneath him. Will caught him before he hit the floor.
"What's wrong?"
Jack tried to steady his breaths. "I heard someone shouting at me, and then there was a loud noise...and there was...just...oh, god, it was horrible."
"It's all right now," Will murmured. But it wasn't all right. It wasn't all right at all. No less than two minutes before, Jack had been a violent, screaming maniac running into walls and threatening to remove Will's face; the fact that he could've recovered so easily in such a small period of time was nothing short of impossible. "What did you do, Jack?"
Jack backed away from Will and shuffled over to the side of the cell, then pinned himself up so he was standing relatively upright. "Why am I in prison?"
"Answer my question."
"Answer mine."
Will grunted and continued, "Jack, you know why you're here."
"I don't."
"You shot Norrington."
Jack stared at Will for several seconds. "I haven't shot anyone in five years, Will. And I most certainly wouldn't waste a bullet on that twat."
"Well, I've had several people tell me that you gave him a bad beating and you fired at him--twice. He's in the hospital now, alive, but that doesn't--"
"I didn't shoot him!" spat Jack with a high level of ferocity that made Will jump slightly. Jack now sounded out of breath, and he leaned his back fully against the wall and slid down it, then hugged his head to his knees. "Oh, Christ," he whispered. "What's happening to me?"
"I don't know," said Will finally. His words were soft, quiet. "I don't know what to say anymore." Jack didn't look up.
"You're trembling," he whispered. He rolled his eyes and let out a desperate-sounding laugh, then stared at the ceiling. "Oh, Christ, I've made you scared of me..."
"Jack..."
"I've made you scared of me!" he cried. Will didn't say anything, but it only took a second for Jack to notice the small, bleeding abrasion he'd left on his friend's face. "What's that?"
"What?" Will rubbed his fingers against his cheek, revealing to him a tiny smear of blood. "Oh...th-that's--"
"I did it," said Jack numbly. "Didn't I?"
"Jack--"
"Didn't I!?" Jack's scream was horrific, and Will was certain he'd let out a small cry of shock.
"Yes," he admitted shakily, "you did."
Jack was standing up now. He backed up against the stone wall of the cell, his eyes wide. "I don't remember," he said in a very small voice. "Will, I would never hurt--"
"I know," said Will quickly, not really believing it at all.
"You and Elizabeth are all I..."
"--I know, Jack--"
"I wouldn't...I couldn't ever--"
"I know." Will bit his lip, and paused to look at the floor. "I'm...I'm leaving you here, Jack."
For a moment, Jack was completely still, his dark eyes focusing only on Will's own. "...What?"
"I'm leaving you here," he said distantly. "I love you, Jack. I do. You're my most treasured friend, and I respect you. I admire you. But I can't take these risks anymore. Not after tonight."
Jack's heart was beating crazily. He felt so cold he was almost shivering, and his breath seemed to cut short. "Will, just tell me what I did--"
"No," said Will quietly. "I don't know, I may change my mind, but for now...I can't have you near myself or Elizabeth. It's too dangerous."
Jack almost laughed, and he was far too ready to cry. "Will, don't...don't leave me here--"
"Goodnight, Jack." Will gave him one last look before he turned, removed the keys from the door and shut it behind him, then let the guard lead him back upstairs, taking the only torchlight with them.
"Will, please!" Jack cried hoarsely. The door closed, and the pirate was left alone with darkness and the sound of distant thunder.
x x x x x
Peony haunted Jack that night.
She is in a long and barely lit corridor, black doors lining either side as far as the eye can see. She's running, and her entire body seems to glow; she's clad only in a brilliantly white nightgown. Her hair is gold and radiant, her eyes wide and delighted. Jack has the vague idea that she is chasing something, but he can't see what it is.
Look, Jack! she cries. Look, a bird! A bird!
She continues to run.
Jack wants to warn her not to go too far ahead, but he finds himself unable to speak, so he tries to tread after her, though the air is thick and it's hard to move.
Visions begin to overtake him: white flowers. Lots of them, seeming to fall from the sky and brush against his skin. A little girl laughing and throwing her head up, then pausing to give him a long smile before she blows a kiss in the air.
He sees Elizabeth shouting at him with no words coming out of her mouth. She's crying, holding a pistol to his head.
I'm leaving you here, Jack.
Peony blows a kiss again.
Now he is suddenly back in the corridor. It's empty.
Peony! he hollers. Peony, where are you?
A bird! A bird!
Jack turns absentmindedly, and Peony stands there, grinning.
Her eyes are missing.
Jack is frozen with fear and tries to run, but his legs won't carry him.
A bird! she screams, her black mouth opening wide to reveal a new voice that is loud and terrible. I'll swear it was a sparrow, Jack, I'll swear it!
She blows him a kiss.
HE DIDN'T WASTE IT! cries Will's voice in a delirious and overjoyed screech.
NO! Jack cries, NO! WILL, PLEASE!
Bang.
Jack's eyes flew open and he found himself gasping for air in his moist cell, covered in pricks of straw and a thick glaze of sweat. He'd heard a gunshot. And something in his gut told him that it wasn't just from his dream.
He heard the door burst open upstairs. There were two voices, murmuring words that were indiscernible to Jack, and then another gunshot. The sound startled the already shaken pirate and he jumped slightly.
He heard footsteps scuffling down the stairs, and the pale glow of the torchlight began to lick the dark walls. Jack tensed.
"Let's have a look here," said a loud and pleased female's voice.
"Oh, Christ!" Jack hollered helplessly. Before he knew it he was clinging to the bars of the cell, ready to tear the smirking Luciana's face off. "I swear to God," he hissed through clenched teeth.
"What?" she asked him. Her eyebrows raised and the delirious grin on her face expanded. "What do you 'swear to God?' God doesn't care, Jack. I thought you'd have noticed that already." Her lips pressed together into a rosy pucker and suddenly Jack felt warm metal against his temple. "But I know of a jolly fellow below deck who's simply aching to kiss that pretty head of yers."
She kept the barrel pressed to his head, and her other hand traveled down to the area between his legs. She smiled when his breathing became shallow. "Like that, do you?"
Jack jerked away from her. "You wretched piece of shit..."
"Oh, do call me that again, Jack," she cooed. "I love it."
"What in God's name do you want?" Jack's voice came out as forcefully as he could make it, but his tone couldn't even begin to cover how much anger and hate stung the words.
"What do I want?" she repeated. She reached in-between the bars and pulled Jack to the edge again, then jammed the gun back against his temple. "This is what I want," she growled, in words that were no longer dripping with amusement. "I want this." She pulled the trigger.
Jack's body jerked violently after he heard the snap of the gun firing, but it wasn't loaded. He slowly backed away from her, trying to catch his breath, which seemed to have outrun him by a hundred miles. "Jesus," he breathed. His legs gave way and he collapsed onto the soiled floor.
Luciana smiled again, pointing the gun directly at him. She pulled the trigger. "Bang, bang," she said coldly.
Jack knew that if she didn't put a bullet in either one of their heads soon, he would begin to lose it; to go to that dark place. "I'll kill you," he whispered.
"Oh, whenever you say that, Jack, it gives me chills. I get oh-so excited.
He was crying now. He hated feeling so exposed in front of her, but she had literally gotten to his very core. He didn't know how much more he could take. "Christ..."
"Get some sleep, darling," drawled Luciana, her thin fingers clawing onto the cell bars. "Get some sleep."
Jack didn't respond until she was gone. When he heard the front door of the jailhouse close quietly, he glanced up, and through the pale moonlight of the small window, he saw Peony standing there, arms folded behind her back, her eyes red-rimmed and blank.
Are you going to die, Jack? she asked.
"I don't know, sweetheart. I tell you every day."
I'm bleeding.
"I know."
You're letting me bleed. It's your fault.
"It's not my fault. Your father agrees with me, and it's true."
Daddy doesn't believe you. He thinks you shot me in the face.
"That's not true," Jack whispered weakly. "It isn't."
He thinks you shot me in the face.
"Shut up!" he hollered. "You never shut up!"
You're letting me bleed. It's your fault.
"Stop it!"
My father hates you.
"Not true..."
I'm leaving you here, Jack...
"Shut up!" Jack began to breathe heavily, and he dragged his body backward to lean up against the grimy wall. He closed his eyes. "I loved you once," he muttered absentmindedly. "God knows, I loved you."
When he opened his eyes again, she was gone.