So I guess this is turning out to be a many-chaptered fic. I honestly had no idea it would be anything more then a we little vignette that ate up 10 minutes of my time. Ah well, I hope it surprises you as much as it surprised me.

Now I would like to express my love for Merrie for her help and her wonderful fics.

The Immortal Captain Jack Sparrow

At the Commodore's request, Jack spent the duration of their voyage back to Port Royal locked in one of the Dauntless' cells. After all, he hadn't been caught, but being abandoned by his own crew for the second time left him with no other options other then going with Will and Elizabeth or cursing himself immortal with the treasure and spending eternity trapped on an island where no one would ever find him. It had it's appeal, but right now he felt that dying didn't sound so bad after he had been left behind twice. Once is enough; twice is no fluke.

Twice was just enough to let Jack know how people really felt towards him. A crew who he had taken from the lowest of the low - None other then Tortuga - and had shown him nothing but loyalty left him to die again, this time at the hands of the British. It had to have been Anamaria and all that rubbish about the Pearl being her ship.

That damn blacksmith had promised her the Interceptor, which, thanks to Barbossa, had been blown to bloody smithereens. It had been Anamaria's ship, her responsibility, and he had given it to her. So there was no use stealing his ship instead, just like the ungrateful wretch that she was. Now he had no ship, no crew and no hope at all. He had no right to call himself a captain unless he somehow managed to free himself from his cell, commandeer the Dauntless and murder everyone aboard using nothing but his bare hands.

Having lost all hope of any more extravagant escapes, Jack sat against the bars and wondered why there were so many cells below the ship's deck. All it appeared to do was sit in the harbor and look pretty. Did Norrington actually expect he would catch any pirates at all by bobbing in the ocean?

A door creaked open and he heard footsteps coming down the wooden stairs. Jack paid no mind to this; judging by the lack of sound coming from above, since there could be no windows at the bottom of any ship, it was the evening. Everyone save for a couple of guards were sleeping safe above.

He tipped his head back, lightly banging it against the bars. He had long since given up on the possibility that Will had built these cells with the same latches as Port Royal's fort prison. He shut his eyes and hoped to fall into a dreamless sleep, wishing the feeling of being a skeleton would let him sleep peacefully for one night.

The footsteps came closer, not at all sounding like the heavy footfalls of a soldier, and stopped at his cell. A voice whispered his name and he opened his eyes to find Elizabeth standing just above him, a worried look on her face. Jack let his eyelids fall again, sighing.

"Jack, I'm so sorry about your ship."

"Wasn't your doing, Miss Swann, no bother apologizing now."

He hadn't called her Elizabeth. Now, when she wanted Jack to call her by her first name more then ever he decided to be polite. Why now? He was to be put to death upon their arrival to port royal; changing his ways would do him no good now.

"You…called me Miss Swann." Jack nodded lightly. "Why?"

The pirate shrugged and opened his eyes, two brown orbs rimmed with kohl and fatigue instantly meeting Elizabeth's. "Well I don't suppose doing as I have been's going to get me out of this mess." The eye contact made her uncomfortable, and she looked down at the floor.

"Manners won't keep you from the gallows." She sighed ad the awful truth, wishing that manners could in fact do something for Jack, but nothing was going to help.

"No…" He sighed, truth slapping him in the face as well. "No, it won't." He stretched and put his hands behind his head, shifting his position to be more comfortable. This was difficult, since no matter how many words could be used to describe a prison cell, comfortable was scarcely one of them.

"Though it might get me in someone's good book before I go. Perhaps then I still have a chance of hearing the angels sing."

Elizabeth was about to say something but stopped; Jack really believed in heaven? She sighed and turned to go. "I hardly suspect Commodore Norrington of ever warming up to you or any pirate for that matter." Without another word she started up the stairs, but Jack called to her.

"Wait!" He sounded like he was almost begging. Elizabeth turned but couldn't bring herself to look at Jack, for each time she saw him, she saw a corpse with a noose around his neck. "The guards will throw a fit when they find out you've been in here." He muttered quietly to himself.

"What is it, Jack?" Like when he called her Miss Swan, she didn't call him Captain, assuming it would only push the knife in deeper to remind Jack of what he had lost.

"I heard…cannons before." He seemed unsure of himself, confused, his voice tense. "Guns I don't recognize."

He sounded troubled. For god's sake, he was a pirate at the end of his life! The least Elizabeth could do was look at him. So she did, and saw a very troubled man, troubled by more then just death. In fact, it was nothing like Jack Sparrow to fear death, not like him at all. "I didn't hear any guns. Are you sure?"

Jack nodded. "I heard 'em, plain as day, they sounded close." He wiped his sweaty brow, and suddenly Elizabeth understood why Jack had his hands behind his head. It wasn't for comfort, but to stop his hands from shaking as they were.

"Are you…alright? Are you ill?" If she hadn't half a brain she would have run as fast as she could to the deck to seek medical assistance, but she stayed put, understanding that rash actions would lead to rash consequences. Step by step, she made her way back to Jack's cell until she was crouched right beside him with only the bars between them.

Jack shut his eyes, beads of sweat clinging to his brow as he spoke again in that same tense voice. "Fetch Will, find out if he made these cells as well. Need to get out of here."

"And if you do, where will you go?" She reached a hand in through the bars and let it rest on Jack's shoulder. He felt hot, his muscles taut. "To whatever ship that's firing cannons?"

"That was…my plan." Jack admitted, taking his hands from behind his head and clasping them together in his lap. Aside from shaking, they, too, were also damn with sweat. Suddenly he winced, head turning sharply to the left. "There, I hear it again!"

"Jack…" Elizabeth said, nervous of what was wrong with Jack, cautiously removing her hand from the cell. "Try to sleep. I'll check for other approaching ships if you like." The pirate nodded and shut his eyes once more, swallowing hard.

She didn't even wait for Jack to answer, just ran up before she was discovered, leaving the pirate alone. Then again, with his thoughts, he wasn't so alone.

***