Disclaimer: Each story we go through this, and each time we all agree that none of us, whosoever we may be or claim or think we are, own the legal rights to this movie theme, the characters, the ocean, the rum or the chicken dressed in a man suit. Thank You.
Damned to the Depths
-Chapter Thirteen
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Jack had been fished out of the sea with the help of Will and his crew, a string of curses leaving the pirate captain's mouth the moment he set foot on deck. Gibbs watched from afar, his gaze momentarily turning to watch the quickly disappearing vessel on the horizon.
"Gibbs, weigh anchor! Unfurl the sails, full speed," Jack ordered as he spun on his heel. "We're going to England."
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Ana raised her head at the sound of the door opening, the loud creaking from the hinges making her ears ring. She turned to the noise, her eyes dull and her actions languid as she saw the form of Derrick step into the light. She shivered despite the warmth inside the cabin walls as he took up leaning against one wall watching her.
"Soon we'll be docking and I'll be a rich man while you wither away in the cells of your grandfather's estate," Derrick eventually broke the silence.
Ana refused to look at him, her eyes instead concentrating on a nearby hourglass, the tiny sands and grains within dripping, counting away the time. Already two weeks had passed since the Belladonna set sail for England, Ana's worry steadily growing before dissipating away to fear. Derrick had at least been considerate enough to remove her from the dank brig to a cabin more suitable, a last ditch effort to preserve what little good health Ana had left.
What small amounts of food she was given, she was unable to keep down, a sign that was beginning to bother her. The water was stale, the food old and the living condition's absurd. If she was lucky, Derrick spared a few drops of rum, but even the once comforting liquid settled uneasily on her stomach causing her to become unsteady and sick.
She sighed, her gaunt body leaning against the far wall her arms wrapped around herself protectively. In her two weeks captivation onboard Derrick's ship, there had had been no talk or sight of the Pearl, a point Ana was quickly beginning to dislike. At first, her hope was hard to deter, but slowly as with each falling sand of the hourglass, Ana's hope too did fall.
She cried herself to sleep, her tear-induced rest lasting but only a few hours at the most; her slumber often riddled with nightmares causing her to wake with her screams. Yet, each time, she found herself alone. Ana had at this point, convinced herself that Jack wasn't coming for her, that perhaps maybe Derrick had been right.
Jack had given her up.
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"How much longer before we see that haze in the horizon?"
There was a shallow grunt as a figure lifted their head toward the sky, the graying clouds looming overhead. "I'd say 'bout another three days," the person stated shifting their gaze to the darkening sky in the distance. "Given that we don't run into a storm."
Will glanced at the older sailor, a frown on his face. "Then let us hope for Jack's sake that we don't run into any storms, aye Gibbs?"
"Aye," Gibbs answered eagerly, his hands tightening on the helm. "How is Jack holdin' up?"
The young blacksmith stared in front of him. "The doctor says he should be fine in a couple of weeks. His arm isn't going to be a problem, but he's slightly worried about the burn. He can't see out of his eye clearly, only shadows, but with time his vision should return. As long as it doesn't fester, Jack will recover completely… we hope."
Gibbs nodded. "Jack is a man of many miracles, lad. He has more luck than he knows what to do with. I've seen the man brutally wounded in battle on several occasions, each wound lethal enough to kill a man, but not ole' Jack," he turned to watch the battered sails flutter in the growing wind. "If a bullet won't kill him, losing his lass sure will."
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Ana was roughly dragged from the cabin; her frail figure struggling the entire way as Derrick directed her up the cobblestone path. The quiet town was deserted with the sinking of the sun, the day's tasks done. A gray haze lingered in the air, the passing fog leaving the feeling of mist upon the figure's face.
The cold night air made Ana shiver as she was pushed along the path, the numerous buildings and houses silent and dark. Derrick mumbled something to one of the crew and the person hurriedly ran off in a different direction. She watched until he vanished before turning her gaze back to the path in front of her, her feet shuffling across the ground.
Derrick held her arm fast, his grip making her wince as they came to a stop. Looking up, Ana beheld a dilapidated house; the roof was a few tiles short of being whole, the roofline sagging greatly. The wooden exterior was laden with holes; the once gleaming white paint now chipped in several places and the small door barely clinging to its hinges.
Ana looked baffled to see such an atrocity set among such nicer houses along the street, the surrounding area free and clean of such run down buildings. Derrick pushed her up the small walk toward the house, a soft yellow glow slowly becoming visible through the dust of a broken window.
She was shoved through the creaking door, her feet catching on the thresh-hold causing her to fall forward, her arms shooting out to break her fall. Derrick snatched her up, his nails digging into her skin as he forced her inside, the door slamming behind him.
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Will clung to the line he was securing as a wave crashed over the railing knocking him down. A strong hand grasped his shoulder helping him to his feet, his numb fingers deftly clutching at the nearest sturdy item to keep him upright. Shaking the water from his face, he was surprised to see Jack standing there, one of the pirate's hands grasping the blacksmith's shoulder while the other grasped the railing.
"Jack?"
The pirate captain stood to Will's left and the younger man could see the angry burn race across Jack's face from his left brow to his cheek. Jack didn't turn as he stared at the crashing waves, his gaze steady. Will placed a hand on the pirate's shoulder to see if he got any recognition from him and Jack slowly shifted his position.
Jack watched him for a moment giving Will a good look at the burn damage, the sight making him cringe. "Jack you should be below deck resting."
"Not while my crew slaves away up here in this storm, Will Turner," Jack answered solemnly. "My crew are fine men and as much as I love the sea, I won't sacrifice a single soul to her unwillingly. Nor will I cower under her jealous wrath."
Will quirked an eyebrow at the statement. "Jealous wrath, Jack?"
The pirate captain shifted uneasily once again turning his head avoiding the blacksmith's stare. "Aye," he stated calmly. "The sea is a harsh mistress lad and she is indeed jealous. Jealous that I hold another so dear, jealous that she wasn't able to claim me and I can almost bet she'll stop at nothin' to keep me from getting to England and to Ana."
"The sea doesn't live Jack," Will tried. "So how can she feel jealous?"
Jack turned then, his dark eyes peering at Will with disappointment. "Ye still have much to learn about life on the ocean, young Turner. And until ye do, I'd suggest ye not make light of what the sea is capable of. She'll do anythin' in her power to get to me," he paused as he turned to go, saying just before he vanished back into the chaos on deck, "And I'll do anythin' in mine to get to Ana."
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Author's Note: This chapter was constructed over several weeks, a case of the block temporarily setting in with the holidays. This chapter may also be nominated for the 'Revision of the Month' award once things have settled down.
I've also concluded that… these stories are going no where and depending on how things go, once this story is completed, I believe I'm going to be hanging up the quill and parchment. Until then, I have possibly 1 or 2 chapters left before I finish. So let's make the best of it, drink up me 'earties, yo ho.
-To every beginning, there is an end.
Review Thanks-
Rat- Not to worry, eventually Jack gets his 2 cents worth. (Every dog has its day.)
Jackfan2- Here's to 'what next,' a wonderful couple, a great movie and a half empty bottle of rum.
Special Eddie- Covering backs is what Captain Jack Sparrow's do best. I'm thinking of allowing this one to lie with the ending it's. With this epic coming to an end, I think it best to allow the quick death on swift wings have it's cameo. But we shall see. And a very belated Happy Thanksgiving to you as well.
Kingleby- Is Jack ok? If I drank as much rum as that man and not eat half of what he does, I wouldn't be ok. (laughs)
Cal- Sadly, I'm contemplating of allowing the Dickhead to savor his victorious moment if you catch my drift. There is more to Derrick's history than what is just revealed in this story, however, I'm letting sleeping dogs lie, and that chronicle very well may stay hidden. Some things are best left secret.
-J