Pirates of the Caribbean – The Secret of Hell Water

(A/N- I haven't written my tremendous thanks to all of you who've been so wonderful as to review! =D I love all of you! *ah-hem* I apologize for the last two cliff hangers… This chapter won't have one- but honestly, where else could I end them? The entire last chapter is one damn long action sequence… I couldn't end it anywhere else! ^^; Be patient, young grasshoppers…I won't abandon this fic.  Now… I will sit back, enjoy my exceptionally strong Manhattan and write… because you know- this just wouldn't be a proper 'PotC' fic if this author didn't get sauced while writing it! (And then go back sober the next day and correct all her alcoholic induced rambling, and wonder where in the hell she thought THAT idea up…)

Chapter 8- Assessing Damages

The icy cold water closed over Jack's head as he and Emma took an unexpected dive. He just barely managed to take a deep breath as the impact of the ocean hit, and under the water, he skillfully arched his back and righted himself so his head was pointing towards the surface.  He could see the hull of the trade ship clearly from his underwater perspective, and that of The Black Pearl faded in the distance.  Jack didn't want to risk surfacing so close to the Trade Ship, he did not know if the Commodore was waiting with his soldiers to try and shoot him the moment his head was revealed.

            These thoughts ran through his head in a fleeting moment, and while keeping a firm grasp on Emma's collar, he started a struggling swim underwater towards the distant shape of The Black Pearl. 

            " Don't leave yet…" He thought desperately while keeping his eyes on his ship's dark hull.  " Just wait a moment longer…"

            Emma was creating a difficult drag in the water that was slowing his progress significantly.  He glanced back and laid eyes on her face.  With her hair floating about her head in pale golden waves, and a serene look of peaceful sleep on her face, her body was completely limp under the water.   Blood was streaming from her gunshot wound at an alarming rate and her voluminous skirts were pulling her body down towards the dark, watery depths.

            Then, upon this inspection, he noticed something odd.  Instead of two white little feet peeking out of the bottom of the skirt, there was a tail.

            He stared at it in shock for a second.

            " That does explain a lot," he thought.  " Well… I didn't think undead pirates could exist either… with that comparison, this would seem feasible."

            He would have sat and contemplated this in more detail if he'd been anywhere but under the water and in danger of loosing his life.  Not wanting to spare any time, but unable to let her go. He allowed himself to sink further down while he tried desperately to tear out the laces that held her dress together. He couldn't very well rise to the surface himself with her dragging him down. She was simply too heavy.  He grabbed for a knife that he'd kept down his boot with the intent of slicing the stubborn laces, but just as his fingertips closed around it's handle, he saw with despair that the blood stopped flowing out of her wound.

            He hung suspended for that moment, slowing sinking, and the sunlight filtering through the water's undulating surface faded to darkness as they made their watery descent. He watched her face, so still and pale and hauntingly beautiful as it slowly fell into shadow, and then with a grimace, he released his grip on her shirt and turned his back to her.  With a powerful thrust of his legs, he shot upwards towards light and the familiar, gently rocking hull of The Black Pearl, his lungs feeling like they might explode at any moment.

            Elizabeth and Will were both scanning the surface of the water between the two ships, The Pearl continued it's heavy canon fire on the Commodore.

            " Come on… surface…" Muttered Will hopefully, he and Elizabeth both looked over the starboard railing, searching the rolling waves desperately for any sign of movement.

             " THERE!" Elizabeth exclaimed, pointing as she saw Jack's head with its dirty red bandana and the glint of metal in his hair. He took a terrific gasp of air and waved one heavily ringed hand at them, "THERE'S JACK!!"

            Mr. Gibbs was quick to react, he pitched a rope over the side towards their Captain, who caught it easily with one hand and was hoisted out of the water.   He flew through the air in an ungraceful arc and landed heavily on his feet on the deck of the ship.  He staggered and fell, wincing as he put a hand to his right shoulder. The pinkish stain that had saturated his dripping wet shirt was turning a deeper shade of red with the blood seeping out of his wound.

            A moment later, the sails had been tied off, half the crew was below manning the oars, and The Black Pearl cut through the waves swiftly making its escape from Commodore Norrington's deceitful ship.  The sound of canon fire stopped, and Jack glanced back at it, his dark eyes reflected a burning anger that was hard for Will or Elizabeth to ignore as they crouched beside him.

            " Someday… that man is going to underestimate me… and when he does, he'll find my sword in his spleen!" Jack vowed, and punctuated it with a colorful oath that made Elizabeth's cheeks burn red.

~*~*~

            The Commodore's jaw tightened as he saw Jack spring out of the water and onto the Black Pearl.  Trying his best to act calm, he turned on his heel and regarded Lieutenant Gillette, who was still writhing on the ground with his hands over his ears.

            " Attention men! Open Fire on that ship!" He said audibly over the loud ringing in his ears.

            " WHAT?!" Some of the soldiers had realized the horrible screaming had stopped, and they slowly stood, looking about perplexed, wondering what in the world had just happened, they're ears were ringing too badly to make out any words the Commodore was shouting at them.

            " I SAID!" The Commodore shouted at the top of his lungs. " OPEN FIRE!"

            " YOU'RE A LIAR?" One man shouted back at him, obviously confused. The Commodore shook his head emphatically.

" OPEN FIRE!" His voice peaked with an audible crack. He was loosing the thin grasp he had on his cool demeanor.

" WHAT'S A TIRE?"

" NO!" He exaggeratingly pointed to their guns, then out over the water at The Black Pearl, which had already tied off its sails and was rowing away at terrific speed. The soldiers looked crestfallen.

            "THEY'RE OUT OF OUR RANGE SIR…" One bloody faced lieutenant hollered.

            " WHAT?" The Commodore asked.  Then noticed this fact himself and shook his head angrily.

They awaited orders, The Commodore took a deep, calming breath, straightened his jacket and his wig, then nodded curtly to Lieutenant Gillette, who just barely noticed everyone was once again on their feet. Gillette sprang up, regarding him nervously.

" SIR?" he yelled.

" ASSESS DAMAGES!" The Commodore screamed.

" WHAT ABOUT CABBAGES?"

" DAMAGES! DAMAGES!!"

After several more yelling attempts and sharp hand gestures, the Commodore set his soldiers about the slow job of making ship repairs, fishing his soldiers out of the water, and setting the ships main crew free.  They, with hands tied down had unfortunately been unable to cover their ears when Emma screamed, and were all in a state of unconsciousness.  Norrington looked about the ship grimly, ticking off a 'to do' list in his head which grew longer at every glance. The worst was the Mizzenmast…

 Without the Mizzenmast, the ship would make painfully slow progress to port. It would take weeks before he'd be able to get on Jack Sparrow's tail again.  He pursed his lips, feeling in exceptionally bad spirits, and watched the dark sails of The Black Pearl grow smaller and smaller as they carried off into the distance.

*~*~*~*~*~*

            Elizabeth and Will sat beside Jack in silence, not really sure about what to do.  Jack glowered at a dark spot on the deck in front of where he sat, he seemed about as untouchable as a hungry shark.  Will shifted his feet uncomfortably and glanced down to Elizabeth, who took a deep breath and put a gentle hand on Jack's good shoulder. 

" Jack? What about Emma?" Elizabeth asked, hesitantly. She could guess well enough Emma's fate, but the reality of it didn't want to sink in.

            Jack's eyes went distant for a moment, and then he shrugged and turned his head to gaze out at the rolling blue waves.  " Sorry, love…" He glanced down at his injured shoulder with a wince.  " She stepped in the way of my bullet..."

            "She's gone down to Davey Jones'…" Mr. Gibbs muttered, overhearing.  He shuddered and shook his head.  " I always said… it was bad luck having a woman on board…"

            " Emma and Elizabeth saved everyone's life!" Will interjected hotly.  " If it wasn't for them, we'd all be on our way to Port Royal and the gallows!"

            Mr. Gibbs gave an apologetic shrug. " By the way… Captain… what was that unholy sound coming from that Trade ship? It almost put the mates in a near panic… it almost did…we all had to cover our--"

            " --Mr. Gibbs!" Jack interjected in a firm, commanding tone.  The first mate straightened abruptly.

            "Aye Captain?"

            " Assess damages to the ship, and inform the crew of… Emma's departure…I want a full report in less than an hour."

            "Aye Captain!" Mr. Gibbs nodded emphatically and hastened away to fulfill his task.

With that taken care of, Jack grimaced and staggered up. He had a splitting headache, not only from the bullet that had grazed the size of his scalp…but also from Emma's strange scream that still echoed faintly in his ears. He would think more about her later though… he had a crew to manage and a ship to care for at the present moment, and his own health to consider.

 Elizabeth and Will hurried to help him, and together they made their way towards his cabin where he set himself down on the bed. He reluctantly began to strip the top layers of his clothing off, revealing the wound. 

            Elizabeth scrutinized it, then after a few moments, shook her head.  " I don't know the faintest thing about taking out bullets…"

            " It's okay," Muttered Jack, wincing as she prodded the tender skin around the opening.  Then, he looked up at Will, who stood solidly, feet planted shoulder width apart, unclenching and clenching his fists.

" Damn, Commodore Norrington!" He said through his teeth.  " He would go so far as to shoot a lady to get through to you… that despicable—"

"Will," Jack interrupted forcefully.  Will closed his mouth and regarded Jack, but smoldering anger was still present on his features.  "Go get Kursar…Tell him I need a bullet removed…and go get something to use as a dressing, will ye mate?"

            Will gave a faint nod of acknowledgement, then turned on his heel and left the room, leaving Elizabeth gazing at the tiny bullet hole.

Dried blood was starting to cake around it.  She couldn't help but notice several other pronounced scars that were scattered about Jack's lean, muscular frame. Some were clean and thin, evidence of whiplashes… and others were wider and largely puckered… evidence from swords and cutlasses. There were even one or two burns and brand marks.  She thought that he must have been through many, many more painful moments than this one, and wondered idly what other stories these older scars carried.   There were several dark lined tattoos decorating his suntanned arms and a few on his chest. She recognized the Sparrow instantly on his right forearm just above the branded 'P' that labeled his profession.  On the other arm, there was a finely detailed skull with a jeweled crown atop it's bulbous head, and higher up on his left bicep, a mermaid was tattooed with a long curved tail, long flowing hair and breasts finely pronounced by their dark tiny areola's.

Elizabeth's breath caught in that instant and she put her hand up to touch the mermaid's tiny face with its rosebud shaped lips.  Something about the small representation seemed vaguely familiar.   "When did you get this one?"

" A long time ago." Jack replied, traveling back to that time in his own head and grimacing slightly.  "Back when I was gullible enough to believe they existed…" Then he gave a metallic grin and chuckled.  " I suppose I was trying to make a point…" Then he closed his mouth, turning his thoughts inward and refused to say any more on the subject.  Elizabeth did not press him. Instead, she straightened up, putting on her best air of calm certainty.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" she asked in a businesslike tone of voice.

            " Aye, see that casket of rum over there by the corner?" He gestured vaguely, "Go fetch it for me, will you darling?  I could use a drink, right about now..."

            Just as Elizabeth fetched Jack his rum, Will entered the room with Kursar, nervously clutching an instrument that looked like a large pair of tweezers in his hands.  He and glanced about the cabin apprehensively.

            Jack straightened up, received a full mug that Elizabeth handed him and proceeded to down half of the rum in one gulp.  He swayed slightly as he brought the mug down from his lips, and then looked at Kursar with scrutiny.

            "Have you ever taken a bullet out before?" He asked.

            "Aye, Captain… once." Kursar said quickly, his eyes looked like they might pop out of his skull as he fidgeted with his awkward surgical instrument.

            "That's what I hear…" Jack said, nodding his head and then took another huge swig from his mug and held it out for refilling.  Elizabeth pursed her lips disapprovingly, but tipped the casket and poured out the amber liquid.  " So, get to work mate… I'm not getting drunk off my arse right now for my health… as much as I wish it were so."

            Kursar nodded, and nervously peered down to look at the wound, his hands were shaking so hard that he almost dropped the large tweezers.  Elizabeth rolled her eyes and let out a strangled sound of annoyance. She shoved the casket at Will, who took it from her with a look of surprise, and then she took the instrument out of Kursar's hands in one smooth motion.

            " You couldn't pick up a bullet with this thing if you're life depended on it." She said testily, pushing him aside, "Let someone who at least has a steady hand for sewing try."

            Jack nodded his head drunkenly, and downed his second cup of rum.  " Did I ever tell you how boyish you look in those pants?" He held it out for a refill, which Will obliged with a look of disgust.

            Elizabeth ignored his comment, and instead pushed him back with her free hand.  Jack fell back on the bed, humming to himself slightly.

            " Dada da dada da…drink up me 'earties yo ho!" Then he chuckled, and eyed her with a roguish smile.  "But I do like the pants! Don't get me wrong…" His face took on a look of serious consideration.  "I think pants on woman are grossly under-rated actually… I mean- I do quite enjoy watching you walk about in them, as do all the mates… Why- you can see the crack in your arse as clearly through the fabric as if you were walking about the ship buck naked in the—AHHHHH!!"

            Elizabeth had been poking and prodding the wound during his drunken tirade, trying very hard not to listen and failing miserably.  Just as she was about to abandon her quest for the bullet and punch his lights out instead, she caught a glimpse of the tiny round black ball, settled firmly amidst the torn muscle, and without warning plunged the tweezers into the wound.

            Will himself had been ready to smash the entire rum casket over the intoxicated pirates head.  But he got even more satisfaction seeing Jack writhe and squirm and scream as Elizabeth searched about unmercifully for the bullet lodged in his shoulder. Kursar winced and writhed along with the Captain.  Will thought he must have gone through a similar experience at one point and that must have been the cause for his nervousness.  He turned back to Jack Sparrow, whose face had gone a ghostly shade of white, and reluctantly felt a pang of pity for the surly Captain.

            After a few more seconds of this tortuous prodding, Elizabeth finally came up triumphantly with the small bullet held securely between the large tweezers prongs.  Jack lay back on the bed, his coal-darkened eyes were closed and his left hand clutched the empty mug at his side. 

            " Will, hand me the remainder of that casket." Elizabeth held out a hand, and Will complied.

            Jack cracked one eye open and glanced at her, then grimaced noticeably as he hoisted himself up partway and held up the mug for refilling.

            " Thank you, love. I was just thinking I could use another drink…"

            " Ohh no…" Elizabeth said with mock sweetness.  " I think you've had plenty of Rum for today, Savvy?"

            A look of confusion passed over his face. He poised with a question on his lips, but seconds later it was replaced with a horrible blood curdling curse as Elizabeth turned over the casket and poured the rum straight into Jack's wound.

            " AHHH!!!"

 Kursar and Will both shook their heads and winced inwardly as Jack convulsed, then in a flash sat straight up and yanked the rum out of Elizabeth's hands, "What in bloody blazing Hell did you do THAT for??!"

            " Two reasons." She said heatedly. "The first, to teach you some manners, and second… to disinfect your wound."

            " But you didn't have to use my best RUM!" Jack said angrily, grasping it to his chest like a precious child.  " We have grog for that!"

            " Grog is too watered down." Elizabeth argued, then plopped down beside him, and began winding long strips of linen around his waist and up over his shoulder that Will had brought up from the hold. " You shouldn't drink the vile stuff anyways, you become a despicable numbskull when you do!"

            Jack opened his mouth to argue further, but he swallowed whatever he was about to say when Mr. Gibbs reluctantly stepped into the cabin.

            "Captain?" Mr. Gibbs regarded Jack nervously. " Am I bothering ye sir?"

            "Mr. Gibbs." Jack's face took on a comically stern, businesslike expression and he staggered to his feet, swaying dangerously. " Do you have your report?"

            " Aye, Captain." Mr. Gibbs said, looking troubled.  " The ship's sustained fair damage. There's a good amount of water down in the brig and she's taking in more.  The bow's starboard side gun deck has a gaping hole, and the spanker has a fair sized hole in her sail…we'll need to repair her before we venture further. The ship will not last in another storm unless she's repaired."

            Jack pursed his lips, considering this news, then lurched over to his desk where a dirty, rum stained map of the Caribbean lay outstretched. He studied it for a moment, and then grimaced.

            " What is it Captain?" Asked Gibbs reluctantly.

            " We're no more than a day's journey off course from that God forsaken island I was marooned on all those years ago…"

            " Aye?" Mr. Gibbs said emphatically. " With the sea turtles?"

            "…" Jack paused, giving Gibbs a questioning glance, then nodded. " Aye… the same."

            " We should be able to make repairs there, then?"

"… Aye… there's a cove that's well sheltered, and timber is there a 'plenty."

 "I'll have the mates set course straightaway." Mr. Gibbs' smile was enormous as he left the cabin.

Jack straightened to his full height, and turned his intense gaze on the remaining people that sat watching him.

            "I think I'm needed on deck…" Kursar said after a moment's silence, then turned on his heel and left the cabin quickly, snatching his awkward surgical tweezers from Elizabeth's fingers.  Elizabeth looked around the cabin, and caught sight of Emma's shoes and stockings by the window.  Her face took on a pained expression, then she gave Jack an awkward smile and with a tiny inclination of the head, excused herself, dragging Will along with her.

            Jack had noticed where her gaze had been directed.  Now that he was finally alone with his thoughts about the strange circumstances that had surrounded Emma, he realized how everything made sense now.  The way she'd boarded his ship, and her peculiar way of walking, the way she always smelled of the ocean, and how her eyes always reflected its dark blue depths…

Reluctantly, he poured the remaining rum into his mug, and threw the empty casket across the room.  Then leaned back on the thin blanket of his bed and drank idly.  It explained the reason she had the map, and how she'd gotten it. It explained her secretiveness, and her assurance that she could get the treasure for him…

            His mind trailed off at that thought. What point would there be sailing to Hell Water now? He had no idea how he'd get his father's treasure without her.  The voyage suddenly seemed so much emptier now. 

            Why had she wanted to so fervently to sail there, after all? She could swim couldn't she? Was there something about it that made passage underwater impossible?  He could continue guessing, but it would do him no good. He'd never have those questions answered now…

            Unconsciously, he raised his right hand and scratched at his left bicep.  Then glanced down with eyes narrowed at the mermaid tattoo.

            " Be warned of a mermaid's song," a familiar deep and ominous voice echoed in his mind. Jack Sparrow saw himself seated on the deck of 'Donalda' as a small boy, staring attentively up at his father.  The huge pirate pointed a large, bejeweled finger down at him threateningly.  " For if yer caught off yer guard, she'll sing you right down into the depths of Davey Jones' Locker… and you'll be lost to it forever." 

It was the only thing his father feared in all the seven sea's… a mermaid's song… Jack Sparrow remembered it well, his father believed in them so fervently that he threatened to make any man who denied their existence walk the plank.  After his father had died, Jack had the image tattooed on his arm. He wasn't sure why at the time. He fancied the tattoo was his own personal act of defiance because he knew his father would never have approved of the graven image.  But, as he grew older, he grudgingly admitted to himself (though never out loud), that he had carried a strange, unexplainable obsession with them. After all, he'd been fed with stories of them from as early as the first years of his life.  Merpeople were, to him, incurably fascinating…

However, years later still as he entered his early twenties, he began to learn the hard lessons of piracy.  Through many trials on sea and land, he won his right as Captain of The Black Pearl.  With this title, he began making an undeniably disreputable name for himself as his pillaged and plundered the seven seas.  During this long period of his life, he had all but forgotten about his father.  He had put the thought of fanciful creatures like Mermaids in the back of his mind, thinking them mere fairytales. And this was reinforced when misfortune befell him 14 years ago when his crew mutinied against him.  And ever since that day, he'd been so preoccupied with getting The Black Pearl back from Barbossa that he'd forgotten the tattoo was even there.

" You've finally made a believer out of me…" he admitted silently.

He sat there for a long time, staring blankly at a fold in the carpet, and thought bitterly of Emma.  He could see her peaceful face, surrounded by her flowing hair, as it became obscured in the shadow of the ocean's deep blue depths. The pale skin would never be touched again by the sun's light.  He couldn't get the bloody image out of his head.  Angry with himself for some reason he couldn't fathom, he tipped his glass and downed the remaining rum, wondering why it wouldn't fill up the strange, empty space that had developed in the pit of his stomach.

~*~*~*~

Jack's mere glance had been right on target.  Emma was a mermaid, and he knew little of them except for the fact that the lower half of their bodies were comprised of a tail and fins instead of legs and feet, and they're songs could be either hauntingly beautiful or shrill and deadly.  What he did not know though, was that Merpeople could not be so easily killed with a single bullet wound, and he had abandoned her for dead the moment blood had stopped flowing out of her wound.  

Emma lay underwater on the edge of a deep undersea canyon.    Her entire body was painfully aware of the slow regeneration process that it would take to revive and heal her.  She could not die, but it did not mean that it didn't hurt a great deal to close a wound that permeated through her entire chest.  She slowly opened her eyes, realized where she was and sat up with a painful grimace, floating up slightly and settling back down with the movement.  A school of large bluish gray deep-sea fish swam idly by, ignoring her presence completely.

" The Black Pearl…!" She looked up hopefully, wondering how much time had passed by. She was too deep though and it was too dark to see much at all.  She swam upwards, hoping beyond hope that she would be able to see the dark black hull of the ship.  But when her head hit the surface and she looked about her, all she could see was horizon in every direction.  Her entire body ached, screaming at her to stop moving.  The dress she wore was unbearably heavy and created an annoying drag at the water as she tried to move about.  She hastily undid the fastenings to the overskirt and the tight bodice and wriggled her way out of them.  She left her light cream colored slip on, it was not heavy enough to create resistance but she needed some kind of clothing if she was going to present herself again to a ship full of pirates.

" There's no use for it now, I'm sure they know… and if not, I suppose it would be nearly impossible to explain coming back from the dead any other way… I just hope that…" Her train of thought trailed off as she remembered her previous uncertainty at revealing her secret.  She didn't know how they would react.

" Well, there's only one way to find out." She pursed her lips and made up her mind in that instant, that she would find that ship no matter what, and find someway to make the crew accept her. Whatever way she could, she would…

" I have to catch up!  But… which way did they go?"     She looked about, turning all the way around and frowned, she knew which way was north by instinct and in what general direction Hell Water lay.

" Did they continue on to Hell Water?" She thought glumly, and then remembered the damage the ship had sustained and excused that option from her mind. " No… they wouldn't be able to survive without patching up the ship.  They're probably looking for someplace to birth for repairs before they continue…Jack would know better than to--"

Then a sudden panic gripped her.  " Jack!"

She dove underwater again and swam once more to the edge of the canyon.  She remembered vividly again the moment when she'd pushed him off the edge of the Commodore's Ship.  She'd seen him get injured by the same bullet that had passed through her but she couldn't remember where he'd been hurt, or had time to stop and see how bad it was. She searched around, looking for any sign that he'd joined her under the water.  Well, if he had, there was little she could do. He would be dead.  She was relieved to find nothing.  But when she noticed the canyon and its dark chasm that went into total, eerie blackness, she shuddered inwardly.  It wasn't possible! He was Captain Jack Sparrow! He'd gotten out of worse situations than that with five times more injuries… or so the stories said… There was no way he would have let a little bullet like that kill him.  He had to be okay and on board The Black Pearl.  That was the only explanation she would consider feasible in her stubborn mind.

" Okay okay… think…" She sat on the bottom, resting her aching torso and wracked her brains.  " Suppose he's okay and alive and with his crew…Where is the closest place that Jack would know that would be safe to anchor?"

She ticked off the nearby landmarks that she knew, for she knew them all in the Caribbean, it had been her home for hundreds of years.

" Tortuga? No… too far away… umm- Maguana?  No that place would have too many soldiers!"

She continued going over every nearby area she could think of and decided that, even though it was a little far off course going south, the Isle de Marta was probably the best bet for Jack's crew.

She paused at this thought and shuddered inwardly.  She did not want to go there.  The place was a graveyard of ships and an infested nest of carnivorous hungry sharks.  It was almost as bad as Hell Water…

…Almost…

Even if she couldn't die, the prospect of getting large chunks bitten out of her did not appeal one bit. She was a fast and strong swimmer, but she was injured and the injury would sustain itself for a few more days before it would be fully healed.  The pain of it echoed with every beat of her heart, and she fought off a sudden spell of dizziness.  Her body wanted so badly to rest.  But the thought that she might never again stand aboard The Black Pearl made her resist the temptation.  She admitted that she'd grown attached to the ship, the crew, and most of all to its roguish, unusually charming Captain.  The thought of seeing Jack Sparrow again made her harden her resolve.  Even if she had to face the waters of Isle de Muerta, she'd find him, and she would waste no time in doing it!

(A/N- okay- so mermaids are mythical creatures and I'm making up my own rules about them! No one knows for sure anyways what they could or couldn't do… but I've read stories that say they have voices that lured sailors to their death, etc etc… so it's feasible, right? =P It's my story and I uhh- couldn't think of any other way for Emma to save Jack in that situation.  ^^;; So yeah—she's got a voice that could kill, pretty cool huh?)