Eight
To die. He never thought of it before, not seriously. Jack didn't think of many things seriously. No, that wasn't true. He considered the state of denying the seriousness of a situation to be very serious business indeed.
Take this for instance. Here he lay in the cool and slightly damp grass on a beautiful summer (is there any other season in the Caribbean?) evening, and all he could think about was. dammit, was that really a crawly thing creeping along the back of his neck?
Not that bugs bothered him. Living on a ship you get bugs in everything, beetles and little white wormy things crawling around in the food, you just had to eat around them, or through them depending on the mood and who might be watching. A Captain never wants to give his crew the idea that there's something in the food that really shouldn't be there, because it should if it is, right? Right. Those were the old days mostly, when he'd sail for months without taking port, days when he wasn't Captaining his own ship of coarse. What fun was setting sail for elsewhere if you never got there? No fun, and no gain either unless you set anchor somewhere to sell the goods you've rightfully pilfered along the way.
On the Pearl he saw to it there'd be no need for rationing, or disciplining tired and excessively deprived sailors in need of a good romp, by setting port where ever he heard tales of a decent tavern to send them romping to. That's what made so many of the pirates, not that there were that many left mind you, in the Caribbean all together less successful than they should be. There were some who's main purpose seemed to be destroying all they came across, ships, cargo, and people, hence leaving nothing to ransom or resell. Others claimed to be legal pirates. How does that work? All depends on whom you pillage and whom you give said pillages to. Not enough profit in that. Moreover, some even pirated on pirates! For the love of god, they got it all wrong there, might as well employ yourself to the bloody navy if you're into that sort of thing.
For himself, Jack found a better mixture to be somewhere between smuggler and thief. Far better to get it and sell it rather then hoard it. Silly twit who ever thought up burying treasure, like a dog burying a bone you lose the map, you lose the treasure. Better to spend it while still alive and able to enjoy it, cause after all what was the average life span of a pirate?
Huh. More often than not, the span was shorter then longer, and if longer, then the likelihood of losing pieces and forcing an early retirement grew better. Pegs legs and eye patches and all that, again, not a fond thought.
Better to die outright then hobble around on a stump of wood til' the end of days. And on that happy note.
"Back to the Pearl."
"What?" Ana leaned closer and the neck line of her loose fitting shirt hung down at the front, and just at this angle if he lifted his head just a little and looked down..
"To the Pearl." It wasn't a long look. Honest. "I'm going back to the Pearl."
She sat up and balanced on her heels, contemplating the possibility of just such an endeavour. She didn't look all that confident. "No. You need to rest."
His back felt cold with the damp soaking through his clothing and he could swear there were at least five creatures probing the possibility of making a new home in his braids, not to mention the others probing other places. Not prime resting conditions.
"No?" He echoed her and propped himself up on his elbow while trying to think of what to say next. "I will for the simple fact that I am Captain of that ship and I said so." Maybe it lacked some of the finesse he could have slipped into it, but he got the point across.
Or not.
"One cough is far from a death sentence." He insisted against the onslaught of a fierce glare.
"But it is reason to be cautious." Ana insisted.
"Not reason enough." Jack insisted and turned his eyes towards Will, who thus far kept himself in the background. The look said it all and Will stepped forwards to offer a hand to help pull Jack back up to his feet.
He didn't feel the same dizziness that sent him to the ground to begin with, but it threatened. Will stepped beside Jack in order to support the Pirate in staying upright. Having not asked, and thus not needing to thank, Jack accepted the assistance.
Ana Maria placed herself on his other side, great confidence she had in his abilities to make a go of it on his own. Jack wrapped his arm up around her shoulder, and let his hand dangle just above her shoulder. Thus they marched back to the bon fire with Elizabeth holding the lantern and leading the way.
Jack deliberately ran his fingers along the side of Ana Maria's throat. For a moment, he felt her neck muscles tense, but he kept his hand still and tried to be as un-deliberate in his deliberateness as possible. She relaxed a little, and he decided there was defiantly an advantage to being injured.
No point in beating around the bush. wherever that expression came from. he leaned into her a little more and reached a little further.
No reaction.
Maybe that wasn't so good. If anything, he wanted a reaction of some kind; even a negative reaction, though preferably a positive one, but nonetheless having no reaction at all made him feel ignored. Jack Sparrow could never stand being ignored, unless he planned it that way. He could think of dozens of things to do that would catch Ana's attention immediately, however he very much doubted he'd survive to enjoy the aftermath of said activities.
Of course he wasn't all that certain he was going to survive thinking of those activities either, seeing as while he occupied his thoughts with interesting and enlightening images of Ana Maria, a bush happened to grow exactly where the path should have been. Path. He stumbled over the shrub, looked a little more closely at the immediate surroundings, and noticed in particular the distinct lack of path.
"Elizabeth?"
The girl turned and looked at him curiously. "Are you alright, do you need to rest?"
The whole let us all be concerned about the pirate thing was wearing somewhat thin. "Where you going to, luv?"
She turned back to whatever she'd been following. "It's the path."
"No, it isn't." Jack let go of Will and Ana and carefully sat down on a rotting log. Talking proved to be more difficult than general breathing at the moment, though only slightly.
Elizabeth stared hard at the ground looking for a sign of what she thought she was following, but couldn't seem to find it. "Jack you're wrong, this IS the path." She couldn't be wrong in this. It just wasn't fair, it wasn't right, and it couldn't be happening.
Ana sat down beside Jack, and bit her lip in an effort to keep from saying anything further. The urge to cuss the girl out ran strong, but it wouldn't do any good. "We'll head back the way we came and find it again, let's go."
It didn't take long to find their way back, and this time Jack did pay attention. He paid attention to more then just following the overgrown rut in the mud though; he got the distinct feeling of being watched. Perhaps the game wasn't as over as he'd feared it might be.
Weeds crept across the trail, and Jack missteped enough to send him falling into Will. All in all, he would have preferred landing on top his first mate, but she was altogether too observant to fall for this sort of ruse.
Fall for it Will did, and from it too, as planned. Jack rolled and landed on his back. His friends gathered around him in a tight circle, worry evident in their eyes. A pang of guilt touched his heart, but he managed to mask it as an all too authentic grimace of pain. He coughed and struggled to sit up. Ana placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him down.
"It's okay, Jack. It'll be okay." She whispered as she knelt at his side.
He cleared his throat only half way to make his voice sound gravely and hoarse. "I need to get back to the Pearl." He insisted melodramatically.
"We'll get you to the Pearl and you'll be okay." She turned to Will and Elizabeth. "Bring three men who aren't stumbling drunk and get back here as fast as you can."
Jack groaned. "Go with them. They don't know the way." Ana looked about to panic, and Jack felt another stab of conscience. "I'll be alright until you get back. Not long, right?"
She nodded but didn't move. "Will, can you do it?"
Elizabeth looked indignant at not being trusted, but seeing as she already got them lost once... "We can do it."
Will nodded his agreement. "We won't be long." He and Elizabeth hurried off along the path, the real path, with the lantern.
There was a force out there bent on destroying every scheming plan he thought up after all. Bootstrap was out there still watching and he'd hoped that being on the edge of death and left alone in the dark would finally bring him out to talk. "There's still time, you could catch them. Make sure they don't get lost."
In the dark, they couldn't see anything more then indistinct shapes, and Jack wished he could see her expression. The quiet coming off his first mate disturbed him. Then the quiet broke with a weird choking slurping sound, followed by a sniffle.
No. Ana Maria couldn't be crying, she may be female, but she didn't cry.
"I'm so sorry Jack. You're going to be okay."
If he really were dying, her reassurances would probably scare him the rest of the way there. "I'm not dying."
"It wasn't the hat."
What? Did everyone around him eventually go mad, or was this just an exceptionally bad day for coherent thought? "Not the hat? The voodoo witch meant for something else to fall off?"
"No. I've." She almost choked on the words. Jack considered making a remarkable recovery from this latest relapse to save her the trouble of pouring her heart out, but decided to hear her out. What could she be confessing to now?
"Jack." She tried again and sniffed some more. "Have you ever considered the possibility of something more between us?"
He coughed for real this time.
"You're the only man who's never made me feel like something less." She took Jack's hand and entwined her fingers through his. Jack didn't move a muscle, afraid that if he moved she might start talking about hats again.
"I want you to know, I feel more then friendship for you."
This wasn't what Jack expected to be hearing. Maybe something about poisoning his food, or adding salt water to his rum, something alone those lines, not anything alone these lines. He always felt a degree of attraction towards Ana, but he assumed it was exclusively on his end of things. To learn that it might be something more than lust, it threw a whole new perspective on many things.
"Ana." Jack whispered. "I think you should go find Elizabeth and Will."
The lack of response to her emotional confession hit her like a physical blow. She felt like a fool and let go of his hand. "They might get lost. You'll be okay until I get back? Promise me, Jack."
"I promise. Go find them."
She stood up, and in the dim light of the moon picked her way back towards the bonfire.
Jack didn't move. He could have, but he didn't. His mind reeled from Ana's words, did she really just tell him she wanted more then just friendship? Might have heard wrong. Possibly.
But it sounded plain enough.
"You're not dying, are you?"
Jack's eyes snapped open at the sound of the voice. A condescending and suspicious voice he hadn't heard for ten years. "Bill."
"Heard you're speech back there. Were you faking then too?"
Jack pushed himself up and stared into the night. The shape of a figure stood a few feet off the path to his left. "No, I meant what I said. Bill, what's happened to you?"
"I don't know. There are times I can't remember my own name, like a fog in my head."
"But the lantern?"
"It's what I've held onto, something real when everything else is hidden. Don't give up, but I'm not ready to come back yet. I'll find you when I am." Then he was gone.
Jack lied back down in the mud, no longer caring if it felt damp, or what things might crawl along his skin. He finally got what he wanted, the plan worked and he found Bootstrap.
But would he lose Ana Maria because of it?
Authors note: HI! One more chapter left and we're done. Please review and let me know what you think so far?
To die. He never thought of it before, not seriously. Jack didn't think of many things seriously. No, that wasn't true. He considered the state of denying the seriousness of a situation to be very serious business indeed.
Take this for instance. Here he lay in the cool and slightly damp grass on a beautiful summer (is there any other season in the Caribbean?) evening, and all he could think about was. dammit, was that really a crawly thing creeping along the back of his neck?
Not that bugs bothered him. Living on a ship you get bugs in everything, beetles and little white wormy things crawling around in the food, you just had to eat around them, or through them depending on the mood and who might be watching. A Captain never wants to give his crew the idea that there's something in the food that really shouldn't be there, because it should if it is, right? Right. Those were the old days mostly, when he'd sail for months without taking port, days when he wasn't Captaining his own ship of coarse. What fun was setting sail for elsewhere if you never got there? No fun, and no gain either unless you set anchor somewhere to sell the goods you've rightfully pilfered along the way.
On the Pearl he saw to it there'd be no need for rationing, or disciplining tired and excessively deprived sailors in need of a good romp, by setting port where ever he heard tales of a decent tavern to send them romping to. That's what made so many of the pirates, not that there were that many left mind you, in the Caribbean all together less successful than they should be. There were some who's main purpose seemed to be destroying all they came across, ships, cargo, and people, hence leaving nothing to ransom or resell. Others claimed to be legal pirates. How does that work? All depends on whom you pillage and whom you give said pillages to. Not enough profit in that. Moreover, some even pirated on pirates! For the love of god, they got it all wrong there, might as well employ yourself to the bloody navy if you're into that sort of thing.
For himself, Jack found a better mixture to be somewhere between smuggler and thief. Far better to get it and sell it rather then hoard it. Silly twit who ever thought up burying treasure, like a dog burying a bone you lose the map, you lose the treasure. Better to spend it while still alive and able to enjoy it, cause after all what was the average life span of a pirate?
Huh. More often than not, the span was shorter then longer, and if longer, then the likelihood of losing pieces and forcing an early retirement grew better. Pegs legs and eye patches and all that, again, not a fond thought.
Better to die outright then hobble around on a stump of wood til' the end of days. And on that happy note.
"Back to the Pearl."
"What?" Ana leaned closer and the neck line of her loose fitting shirt hung down at the front, and just at this angle if he lifted his head just a little and looked down..
"To the Pearl." It wasn't a long look. Honest. "I'm going back to the Pearl."
She sat up and balanced on her heels, contemplating the possibility of just such an endeavour. She didn't look all that confident. "No. You need to rest."
His back felt cold with the damp soaking through his clothing and he could swear there were at least five creatures probing the possibility of making a new home in his braids, not to mention the others probing other places. Not prime resting conditions.
"No?" He echoed her and propped himself up on his elbow while trying to think of what to say next. "I will for the simple fact that I am Captain of that ship and I said so." Maybe it lacked some of the finesse he could have slipped into it, but he got the point across.
Or not.
"One cough is far from a death sentence." He insisted against the onslaught of a fierce glare.
"But it is reason to be cautious." Ana insisted.
"Not reason enough." Jack insisted and turned his eyes towards Will, who thus far kept himself in the background. The look said it all and Will stepped forwards to offer a hand to help pull Jack back up to his feet.
He didn't feel the same dizziness that sent him to the ground to begin with, but it threatened. Will stepped beside Jack in order to support the Pirate in staying upright. Having not asked, and thus not needing to thank, Jack accepted the assistance.
Ana Maria placed herself on his other side, great confidence she had in his abilities to make a go of it on his own. Jack wrapped his arm up around her shoulder, and let his hand dangle just above her shoulder. Thus they marched back to the bon fire with Elizabeth holding the lantern and leading the way.
Jack deliberately ran his fingers along the side of Ana Maria's throat. For a moment, he felt her neck muscles tense, but he kept his hand still and tried to be as un-deliberate in his deliberateness as possible. She relaxed a little, and he decided there was defiantly an advantage to being injured.
No point in beating around the bush. wherever that expression came from. he leaned into her a little more and reached a little further.
No reaction.
Maybe that wasn't so good. If anything, he wanted a reaction of some kind; even a negative reaction, though preferably a positive one, but nonetheless having no reaction at all made him feel ignored. Jack Sparrow could never stand being ignored, unless he planned it that way. He could think of dozens of things to do that would catch Ana's attention immediately, however he very much doubted he'd survive to enjoy the aftermath of said activities.
Of course he wasn't all that certain he was going to survive thinking of those activities either, seeing as while he occupied his thoughts with interesting and enlightening images of Ana Maria, a bush happened to grow exactly where the path should have been. Path. He stumbled over the shrub, looked a little more closely at the immediate surroundings, and noticed in particular the distinct lack of path.
"Elizabeth?"
The girl turned and looked at him curiously. "Are you alright, do you need to rest?"
The whole let us all be concerned about the pirate thing was wearing somewhat thin. "Where you going to, luv?"
She turned back to whatever she'd been following. "It's the path."
"No, it isn't." Jack let go of Will and Ana and carefully sat down on a rotting log. Talking proved to be more difficult than general breathing at the moment, though only slightly.
Elizabeth stared hard at the ground looking for a sign of what she thought she was following, but couldn't seem to find it. "Jack you're wrong, this IS the path." She couldn't be wrong in this. It just wasn't fair, it wasn't right, and it couldn't be happening.
Ana sat down beside Jack, and bit her lip in an effort to keep from saying anything further. The urge to cuss the girl out ran strong, but it wouldn't do any good. "We'll head back the way we came and find it again, let's go."
It didn't take long to find their way back, and this time Jack did pay attention. He paid attention to more then just following the overgrown rut in the mud though; he got the distinct feeling of being watched. Perhaps the game wasn't as over as he'd feared it might be.
Weeds crept across the trail, and Jack missteped enough to send him falling into Will. All in all, he would have preferred landing on top his first mate, but she was altogether too observant to fall for this sort of ruse.
Fall for it Will did, and from it too, as planned. Jack rolled and landed on his back. His friends gathered around him in a tight circle, worry evident in their eyes. A pang of guilt touched his heart, but he managed to mask it as an all too authentic grimace of pain. He coughed and struggled to sit up. Ana placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him down.
"It's okay, Jack. It'll be okay." She whispered as she knelt at his side.
He cleared his throat only half way to make his voice sound gravely and hoarse. "I need to get back to the Pearl." He insisted melodramatically.
"We'll get you to the Pearl and you'll be okay." She turned to Will and Elizabeth. "Bring three men who aren't stumbling drunk and get back here as fast as you can."
Jack groaned. "Go with them. They don't know the way." Ana looked about to panic, and Jack felt another stab of conscience. "I'll be alright until you get back. Not long, right?"
She nodded but didn't move. "Will, can you do it?"
Elizabeth looked indignant at not being trusted, but seeing as she already got them lost once... "We can do it."
Will nodded his agreement. "We won't be long." He and Elizabeth hurried off along the path, the real path, with the lantern.
There was a force out there bent on destroying every scheming plan he thought up after all. Bootstrap was out there still watching and he'd hoped that being on the edge of death and left alone in the dark would finally bring him out to talk. "There's still time, you could catch them. Make sure they don't get lost."
In the dark, they couldn't see anything more then indistinct shapes, and Jack wished he could see her expression. The quiet coming off his first mate disturbed him. Then the quiet broke with a weird choking slurping sound, followed by a sniffle.
No. Ana Maria couldn't be crying, she may be female, but she didn't cry.
"I'm so sorry Jack. You're going to be okay."
If he really were dying, her reassurances would probably scare him the rest of the way there. "I'm not dying."
"It wasn't the hat."
What? Did everyone around him eventually go mad, or was this just an exceptionally bad day for coherent thought? "Not the hat? The voodoo witch meant for something else to fall off?"
"No. I've." She almost choked on the words. Jack considered making a remarkable recovery from this latest relapse to save her the trouble of pouring her heart out, but decided to hear her out. What could she be confessing to now?
"Jack." She tried again and sniffed some more. "Have you ever considered the possibility of something more between us?"
He coughed for real this time.
"You're the only man who's never made me feel like something less." She took Jack's hand and entwined her fingers through his. Jack didn't move a muscle, afraid that if he moved she might start talking about hats again.
"I want you to know, I feel more then friendship for you."
This wasn't what Jack expected to be hearing. Maybe something about poisoning his food, or adding salt water to his rum, something alone those lines, not anything alone these lines. He always felt a degree of attraction towards Ana, but he assumed it was exclusively on his end of things. To learn that it might be something more than lust, it threw a whole new perspective on many things.
"Ana." Jack whispered. "I think you should go find Elizabeth and Will."
The lack of response to her emotional confession hit her like a physical blow. She felt like a fool and let go of his hand. "They might get lost. You'll be okay until I get back? Promise me, Jack."
"I promise. Go find them."
She stood up, and in the dim light of the moon picked her way back towards the bonfire.
Jack didn't move. He could have, but he didn't. His mind reeled from Ana's words, did she really just tell him she wanted more then just friendship? Might have heard wrong. Possibly.
But it sounded plain enough.
"You're not dying, are you?"
Jack's eyes snapped open at the sound of the voice. A condescending and suspicious voice he hadn't heard for ten years. "Bill."
"Heard you're speech back there. Were you faking then too?"
Jack pushed himself up and stared into the night. The shape of a figure stood a few feet off the path to his left. "No, I meant what I said. Bill, what's happened to you?"
"I don't know. There are times I can't remember my own name, like a fog in my head."
"But the lantern?"
"It's what I've held onto, something real when everything else is hidden. Don't give up, but I'm not ready to come back yet. I'll find you when I am." Then he was gone.
Jack lied back down in the mud, no longer caring if it felt damp, or what things might crawl along his skin. He finally got what he wanted, the plan worked and he found Bootstrap.
But would he lose Ana Maria because of it?
Authors note: HI! One more chapter left and we're done. Please review and let me know what you think so far?