Disclaimer: The Mouse owns all, I own nothing but the plot line.
Warnings: There is slash in this fic, but not this chapter. Chapter 5 has
the most slash. The rest is mainly implied.
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Jack watches everything carefully from behind Will, glancing at the Officers out of the corner of his eye every now and then, just to make sure.
"He's a pirate!" exclaims Governor Swann. Jack's attention is instantly drawn back to the conversation.
"And a good man. If all I have achieved here is that the hangman will earn two pairs of boots instead of one, so be it. At least my conscience will be clear." Will replies.
"You forget your place, Turner." This delivered in Norrington's slightly bored, agitated drawl.
"It's right here, between you and Jack." It's in this moment that Jack notices movement to his right, but he dismisses it as just the Officers shifting their positions.
Which is how Jack ends up with a bayonet tip in his side, a surprised gasp escaping his lips. Too focused on the pain, he doesn't notice when it is that he falls to his knees, or that Norrington is yelling at the soldier that stabbed him. He doesn't even notice when the other soldiers are told to leave, their red coats gradually disappearing from Jack's unseeing view, leaving only him, Will, Elizabeth, the Governor, and Norrington.
He can hear them talking, but can't make out what they're saying, except one word that sounds suspiciously like 'doctor'. He starts to laugh at hearing that, then stops abruptly, as it hurts terribly. One of his hands travels down to lightly touch the wound, then is brought back up to eye level, and he's slightly surprised at how it doesn't even feel like he's moving his arm on his own.
His fingers are coated in blood. The red fingers rub together, and he feels awed at seeing such a large amount of his own blood for what seems the first time.
A soft pressure is on his shoulders, pushing him down to the ground. He struggles slightly, not wanting to go down, not willing to accept that this is it; this is the end of the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow.
But then there's a voice in his ear, a familiar drawl, though no longer sounding bored, or agitated, but..scared? "Norrington." he hears faintly, unaware that it's his own quiet voice that utters the name.
"..you dare, Jack Sparrow, don't you dare die." Strong hands are clutching Jack's vest and shirt, shaking slightly. The shaking brings the sights and sounds back, and Jack gazes blearily up into bright green eyes, a suspicious wetness clinging to the corners.
Jack's bloody hand raises and a red finger presses to Norrington's cheek, the blood smearing slightly across the pale skin. It's too much energy to keep the hand up, so it slides down, leaving a trail of blood down Norrington's arm.
He looks again into wet green eyes, his own dark brown ones glazing over once more, splotches of darkness beginning to cover the blurry shapes before going completely black, his body going limp.
~*~*~*~
*~*~*~*
Jack watches everything carefully from behind Will, glancing at the Officers out of the corner of his eye every now and then, just to make sure.
"He's a pirate!" exclaims Governor Swann. Jack's attention is instantly drawn back to the conversation.
"And a good man. If all I have achieved here is that the hangman will earn two pairs of boots instead of one, so be it. At least my conscience will be clear." Will replies.
"You forget your place, Turner." This delivered in Norrington's slightly bored, agitated drawl.
"It's right here, between you and Jack." It's in this moment that Jack notices movement to his right, but he dismisses it as just the Officers shifting their positions.
Which is how Jack ends up with a bayonet tip in his side, a surprised gasp escaping his lips. Too focused on the pain, he doesn't notice when it is that he falls to his knees, or that Norrington is yelling at the soldier that stabbed him. He doesn't even notice when the other soldiers are told to leave, their red coats gradually disappearing from Jack's unseeing view, leaving only him, Will, Elizabeth, the Governor, and Norrington.
He can hear them talking, but can't make out what they're saying, except one word that sounds suspiciously like 'doctor'. He starts to laugh at hearing that, then stops abruptly, as it hurts terribly. One of his hands travels down to lightly touch the wound, then is brought back up to eye level, and he's slightly surprised at how it doesn't even feel like he's moving his arm on his own.
His fingers are coated in blood. The red fingers rub together, and he feels awed at seeing such a large amount of his own blood for what seems the first time.
A soft pressure is on his shoulders, pushing him down to the ground. He struggles slightly, not wanting to go down, not willing to accept that this is it; this is the end of the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow.
But then there's a voice in his ear, a familiar drawl, though no longer sounding bored, or agitated, but..scared? "Norrington." he hears faintly, unaware that it's his own quiet voice that utters the name.
"..you dare, Jack Sparrow, don't you dare die." Strong hands are clutching Jack's vest and shirt, shaking slightly. The shaking brings the sights and sounds back, and Jack gazes blearily up into bright green eyes, a suspicious wetness clinging to the corners.
Jack's bloody hand raises and a red finger presses to Norrington's cheek, the blood smearing slightly across the pale skin. It's too much energy to keep the hand up, so it slides down, leaving a trail of blood down Norrington's arm.
He looks again into wet green eyes, his own dark brown ones glazing over once more, splotches of darkness beginning to cover the blurry shapes before going completely black, his body going limp.
~*~*~*~