Captain Jack's eyes snapped open. He felt something damp against his left leg. Then it all came crashing back to him. The burning pain in his leg as the Commodore found a flaw in his defenses and then the payback of stabbing him in the middle of the chest.
"Wondered if ye'd ever wake up." A familiar voice came from the table of the ship's cabin.
"Hector…" He groaned, trying to sit up. "W-what happened, mate?"
"What's the last thing ye remember?" Barbossa asked him.
"I-I remember that Commodore hitting my leg with his sword and then blacking out right after I stabbed him." He responded. He glanced in the man's direction, not wanting to look at his leg. "What happened to my leg?"
"The Commodore...Jack, he cut off yer leg."
Captain Jack froze in shock. "I-no...What?!" He found it hard to form a sentence. His head snapped to look at his leg. Sure enough, from the middle of his calf down, there was nothing except for blood and a cloth trying to stop the bleeding. He sighed, pressing a hand to his head. "Great…just great. Now I'm one-legged."
Barbossa flashed him a sympathetic, pitiful look. "Aye."
"Who's at the wheel? Which ship are we on?"
"We be on the Pearl, Jack. Yer First Mate be at the wheel."
"Gibbs?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Aye." Barbossa nodded.
"Where are we heading?" Captain Jack suddenly asked.
"Back to Tortuga." The older pirate told him.
"Nice choice." He nodded in approval. "We lose anyone in the battle?"
"No." Barbossa shook his head. "But the soldiers retreated after ye killed the Commodore."
"So I did kill him?"
"Aye and it was nasty too." The man confirmed.
"Good. He deserved it." The captain leaned back with a small, satisfied smirk. Then the smile faded. "How long was I out?"
"About a day and a half, Jack. It's just past sundown right now."
"And what of the Bloody Dragon?"
"Angelica became the captain and they seperated from us." Barbossa told him.
"Not surprising." Captain Jack grumbled.
*X*
Jack secured one of the cannons on deck the correct way, and then swam over to Jones' cabin. That would've gone well if they hadn't been rising and he hadn't fallen down the stairs below deck.
"Ouch!" He groaned, getting to his feet. He staggered up the stairs and limped over to the cabin, knocking lightly on the door.
"Enter." Captain Jones accepted.
Jack opened the door and stepped in, just to see the tentacled man stepping away from what looked like a piano. He crossed his arms.
"Ah, Sparrow." Jones smirked. "Need something?"
"To get off of this ship." He grumbled irritably, his arms tightening.
"Don't think that'll be soon, boy."
"Why not? My father will come and save me sooner or later."
"Your father," Jones' voice contained mocking laughter. "Your father will not be on his feet for awhile, boy."
"What do you mean?" Jack demanded. "What'd you do?"
"I did nothing." The captain told him. "Sparrow, your father ran into some of those British soldiers."
"And what happened to make him not be able to help me?" He questioned.
Davy Jones laughed as he said it. "Jack Sparrow, Captain of the Black Pearl, lost his leg!"