Disclaimer: Nope. Only the plot.
A/N: Ok here's what happened. So I updated chapter 12 today and it worked…Gwyn reviewed it. And then it suddenly decided that the "chapter doesn't exist", so I posted it as chapter 13 (because it didn't work as chapter 12)…but now it IS working as chapter 12 and The Pirate's Way is posted as both chapter 12 and 13. That drives me nuts (being a perfectionist) so I am going to update (yes, again. Twice in the same day…my poor muse is going to faint with exhaustion). Ok, so I hope you enjoy. I love you all!
Pirates of the Caribbean: The Winds of Change
Marooned and Undead
Never before had he ever considered committing suicide. The thought had never crossed his mind, and, as far as anyone knew, it wouldn't ever. But the reality was undeniable, the hopelessness insatiable, the outlook grim. He was stuck on an island once more, alone, while Elizabeth and Will were at the hands of Barbossa and his undead crew.
But then he realized that he couldn't commit suicide…he was already dead…well, sort of. Part of him was upset that he would undoubtedly be stuck on that island forever; no one ever came to Isle de la Viento…many said the island was haunted and belonged to dark spirits, thus naming the entire group of islands Casa del Diablo. Disappointment crept into his mind as he thought of himself, forever sitting on that beach in complete misery and utter solitude. He would go mad with the loneliness and the total seclusion that he would have to endure. It was frightening.
But the other half of him was almost relieved in a way. The fact that he couldn't commit suicide made him feel almost invincible. The great Jack Sparrow that everyone knew wouldn't be killed. The sardonic, sly, seemingly-drunk, voracious Jack Sparrow that most people loved and everyone knew would still be alive, sitting on the beach, nabbing a tan before a dinner he couldn't eat.
As he sat on the beach, letting the hot grains of white sand nip at his rolled-up pants legs, he stared at the deep blue sea, waves peacefully crashing upon the smooth, sandy shore merely a couple feet in front of him, the soft moonlight shimmering on the waters in front of him. The smell of salt invaded his nostrils as he inhaled, trying to, calmly and rationally, think of what to do next.
But his thoughts quickly turned to Elizabeth and Will. Elizabeth….she was expecting….expecting to a husband who was under complete control of a curse that wanted them all dead. Jack hoped she hadn't told him, but knew that she wouldn't; that girl had an intelligent head on her shoulders, and he knew she wouldn't let information like that slip to Will in his condition, even though Jack knew she loved him more than anything else in the world.
And Will…Jack only hoped he would survive. He glumly realized, however, that the prospect was thin; Barbossa needed Will's blood to reverse the curse. Barbossa thought Will's blood would leave him and his crew unable to die, but able to enjoy the pleasures of life. Little did Barbossa know that it wasn't Will's blood he needed, but his child's…
Barbossa would have to wait nine months for Elizabeth to give birth. This thought brought a little consolation to his heavy heart; Elizabeth, at least, would have nine months to figure out how to escape. However, in her delicate condition, Jack wasn't so sure she would be able to. And, to his dismay, he realized that if she failed, a whole family, a family he cared about as if they were his own, would be murdered at the hands of his worst enemy.
Jack hated feeling helpless. He had always been the one to think of a plan and act upon it, never letting his friends suffer alone. But sitting on an island in the middle of the Caribbean with nothing but a sword, three shots to his pistol, an empty flask, and an undead body drove him insane. He resolutely stood up, angry with himself for being so stupid as to read a map of which he knew nothing of its origins…
But it was from Gibbs, Jack thought, narrowing his eyes. Why would Gibbs want to deceive me…?
With the thought of Gibbs came the memory of losing his entire crew aboard the Pearl. His heart suddenly felt as if it had burst as he remembered holding AnaMaria in his arms as he watched her bleed to death, struck by a sword that had penetrated her heart…
He gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes as he stared at the blank horizon in front of him. He'd be damned if he let anyone hurt the ones he loved again…
And he loved Elizabeth and Will.
He let out a cry of aggravation. He would go through hell and high water to rescue them. If he could walk across the ocean to save them, he wouldn't hesitate in the slightest…
Walk across the ocean.
Jack suddenly felt absolutely and utterly stupid. He was dead…or, rather, undead…he could walk across the ocean at will…
He quickly picked up his effects at his side. He hooked them on to his belt and sash, his heart beating fast, adrenaline running through his blood…if it took walking through the whole Caribbean Sea to find Will and Elizabeth, he would do it.
And as he submerged into the clear and fresh saltwater of the sea he grinned, picturing the look on Barbossa's face when he realized that Captain Jack Sparrow simply could not be marooned anywhere.
Especially not on an island without rum.
~*~
I know it was short, but it was something for posting twice in 8 hours. Expect the next chapter very soon. Thanks everyone…especially Lizzi for that last line. Love ya.