____________________
Chapter 22: To Bleed
____________________
-
-
"Well, well, well," Jack Sparrow muttered as he squatted down to run his finger through the smudged blood stain on the docks. It wasn't dry yet, which meant that someone bleeding, Evans it seemed, was here. Somewhere. Jack paced off the trail, halting when it halted. He looked up at the Pearl, eyes searching out possible routes. His eyes caught and held on one of the canon hatches, open. He frowned, knowing that to be out of place.
"Mister Gibbs!" the pirate captain barked.
"Aye, Capt'n," Gibbs growled, appearing at his side.
"Where does that there portal lead to, pray tell?" Jack asked him, pointing.
"Methinks down by the brig, sir."
"And where did ye find that rope?" Jack asked patiently.
Gibbs tapped his grizzled face, trying to remember, the contents of his flask long since affecting his memory. "Ahh, it be. . .just there!" Gibbs suddenly remembered, pointing a ragged-nailed finger at a spot just five feet closer to the ship directly below the portal, looking extremely proud of himself.
Jack fought the urge to smack himself on the head and turned on his heel and began to jog towards the ship, mumbling something about daft crewmembers and stringing an easy two and two together. He headed towards the brig, ignoring the uneasy looks those of his crew still awake were shooting at him as he daintily plucked a small hanging lantern from the railing. He descending into the brig, letting an exasperated sigh escape him when he discovered that the leak there hadn't been completely fixed yet.
He drew his sword with a satisfying swish and tried to tiptoe through the damp floor to make as little noise as possible. He heard the whir of an appendage through the air too late, something hard striking him in the side. Jack stumbled, sucking in his breath at the sudden fire that plagued his body as the thing struck his sore half-healed wounds.
He scrambled to his feet, squinting in the darkness to see what it was that had struck him. He caught movement in the corner of his eye and lashed out, his sword tip's arc catching some resistance as it scratched the assailant. Panting, Jack grinned, gold teeth glinting in the blackness and advanced on the fallen man. He heard the stomping of footsteps above him and cursed softly, knowing the blasted British Navy would be storming the place in a matter of minutes. In the dim light of the lantern Jack was holding tightly in one hand, he could make out the bloodied and bruised form of Evans fallen to his hands and knees against small pile of sandbags.
As Jack kicked him in the side, Evans collapsed with a grunt. The knife he held shot out, and Evans noticed sand spilling out of the slash into the puddle of water covering the floorboards. Evans raised himself to his knees, clutching a handful of sand and seawater in his fist. Leering at the unsuspecting pirate captain standing triumphantly over him, the bounty hunter flung the mixture at him.
Jack felt something invade his eyes, stinging them. He dropped the lantern in surprise with a crash as he tried to open and eyes and could not, rubbing at the gritty substance that had invaded them. He felt a knife graze his shirt as he stumbled away, swinging out wildly in wide arcs with his cutlass.
Something sharp and pointed dug into his hand painfully and Jack yelped in surprise, dropping his cutlass. Jack stood frozen as he felt cold and slippery metal come in contact with his throat.
-
-
-
"I thought ye were locked up," Anamaria asked sharply, painfully sitting up straight and staring at him in confusion. Her heart began to hammer painfully in her chest.
"I did too, darling. That is, until I discovered that the ship's doctor was an old friend of mine. Doctor Jenkins, I'm sure you remember him, Maria," Adler said slowly and smugly, making sure the door was locked behind him.
Ana's eyes widened in horror and her face went dark with rage, "Bastard!" Oh, she remembered the prized Dr. Jenkins who was too high and mighty to spare some medicine to ease Stephan's fever and abate his cries. The prized doctor could have saved her son's life. "I shall scream," she said harshly, seeing the knife in his hand as he stepped closer to her.
"There's no need. . . yet," Charles replied nonchalantly, "Unless you'd like to die, of course."
"Ye need me to receive yer precious payment," Ana sneered.
Charles clucked his tongue in reproving and he took his merry time in answering, going to behind Jack's desk and pouring himself a glass of rum. He tasted it and made a face, but continued to drink it, giving an 'oh, well' look towards the woman on the bed. He swirled the contents of his glass around before continuing, "You see, my dear, I no longer care for something as petty as monetary compensation. There's something that I hold much more dearly to my heart."
Ana stared blankly at him, feeling her hope sink like a canon to Davy Jones Locker.
"Revenge," Charles replied as if it were obvious, his expression twisting into that of one completely corrupted. At that moment, Ana was struck by his resemblance to Barbosa; his greed familiar. "I seem to think we have a little time before we have to do anything, and I'm in no rush if your not. So tell me Maria, how long has it been, five years?"
"Eight," Ana gritted her teeth.
"My, my, how time flies," Charles exclaimed. He settled himself carefully in the chair across from the bed and propped his feet up, "Since there's no hurry, let me tell you what I've been keeping myself busy with."
Sighing, Ana propped herself up against the wall so she could face him, feeling the somewhat comforting presence of her dagger up her sleeve. "Go on, then," she said tiredly.
"Well, after you left I missed you terribly-" he began
Ana snorted and he glared at her, looking offended. "Go on," she said again, "Ye missed me 'orribly, then what?"
"As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted," Charles began again, fingering his knife carefully, "I sent out search parties to look for you for over a year and I eventually had to believe you had died. You'll have to tell me, my dear, where you were all that time. Let's see, I acquired another plantation in the Americas and have wonderful workers who adore me- "
Ana rolled her eyes. "Obviously," she muttered under her breath.
Charles was regarding her harshly, still playing with his knife and he deliberately sighed delicately. "All right, Maria, since this is so boring to you, go on, do tell where you've been all this time. Or did you just go straight to being another whore aboard this godforsaken ship."
Ana bristled, "I'm no one's whore, mate."
Charles rolled his eyes delicately, "Please."
"I'm a bloody pirate! No one's whore and haven't been since ye slimy, mangy, repulsive cad t-" Ana yelled, her voice tone going dangerously high.
Charles moved two steps forward two steps and backhanded her, clapping his hand over her mouth. "Be nice, Maria. I don't want to have to hurt you until I'm good and ready. When you've decided to behave, by all means, go on."
Ana's eyes shot fire at him and she squirmed at his touch, finally shaking free but not attempting to shout, seeing more advantages to keep him talking than infuriate the man into making violent reactions. "I've changed quite a lot since ye knew me. Done a lot o' things."
"Well, I'm waiting," Charles said, his eyebrow raised in careless curiosity.
"I bartered a passage off some traders at port and found meself in Barbados. I posed as a boy for a while doin' odd jobs wherever needed. Eventually about two years ago I found myself aboard a merchant ship as a crewmember," she smiled, reminiscing, "And the ship was taken over by none other than Jack Sparrow and his pirates."
"How touching. Is that when you became his whor-I mean, lover?" Charles sneered, slow and lazy to correct himself, his eyes showing that he knew exactly what he meant and it wasn't lover.
Ana snapped back to focus, "No," she snapped, "Jack took me aboard back as a crewmember and I ended up in Tortuga with enough money to buy me own boat and I was in business actin' as a ferry for a while." She shook her head, her memories slamming closed. "Jack came back, stole me boat and sank it, then came lookin' for a crew, and I happened to sign on. The end."
"Touching," Charles wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. Ana rolled her eyes and shot him a distain-filled look. Charles lost all pretense of even sarcasm and suddenly pointed his knife out at her. "Stand up," he snapped, catching her actions and reaching his shallow breaking point.
Anamaria reluctantly stood, though it pained her to do so. She bit her lip, drawing blood as she straightened up, standing before her former master. He flicked up his knife with his uninjured arm, holding it in the hollow of her throat.
"Time to die, Maria."
_
-
-
Jack squeezed his eyes closed, thinking it to be the end. He never had been a religious man, but now he found himself thinking of whatever was up there and asking to be spared. The whish of steel in the still air caused him to wince, but surprisingly no pain came. Was this what it was like to die? To not even feel the blow? Jack waited for whatever was to come, but was completely unprepared as a familiar voice broke though the silence.
"On your feet,"
Jack peeked his eyes painfully open to see Will Turner there like a hero out a fairytale pointing his sword the kneeling for of Evans. When had Evans gotten to his knees? Jack realized the man had also dropped his knife.
"Will?" Jack blinked, still trying to figure out what the boy was doing here.
"Jack," Will acknowledged, drawing his other sword and handing it to Jack without looking at him, keeping his other blade steady at Evans' chest.
Jack came to an immediate decision, grasping the sword handle with one hand and wiping his stinging eyes with the other. He could make out the two blurry forms around him as he felt the water pouring from his eyes wash away some of the grit. "Will, I thank ye m'boy, but now ye must leave us."
"But Jack--?" Will began to ask, sounding both like Jack passionately brave and he was daft both at once.
"Firstly," Jack said, swinging around to face him, "It's Captain Jack, savvy? And secondly. . ." Jack frowned, losing his train of thought while Will looked on in bewilderment. He suddenly remembered, with a triumphant grin, "Ah yes, secondly, ye will leave us be to finish this for good."
His new tone left no room for argument, and Will, frowning, carefully ascended the stairs, looking back cautiously several times.
Evans climbed to his feet and seized Jack's sword on the ground. The two began to fight, Evans attacking and Jack parrying back. Then Jack attacked, propelled by revenge and a sense of duty. He forced the hunter back into a cell, and in the narrow confines of the metal enclosures, the swords several times hit the bars, making an unpleasantly loud ringing sound.
Evans swung out wildly, catching Jack's white sash in the process, neatly tearing it in two. Jack felt no cut of the sword and paused, looking at the two pieces of the sacrificed sash mournfully. "That was me favorite one, mate," he said with a sigh.
With an enraged yell, Evans leapt at him again, and Jack jumped on top of the bench to avoid his wild swipes. Jack lashed out with his foot and got Evans in his sword hand. Evans hissed but did not drop his sword. Jack stepped forward to attack from his height atop the bench, but in the darkness he misjudged it and lost his footing, falling to the wet floor, his sword falling just out of reach.
"Truce, mate?" Jack asked agreeably, panting and slouched against the bench.
Evans bared his teeth and lashed out for the final swipe. Jack, faster than it should have been humanly possibly, drew his boot knife and plunged it into the man's stomach.
The bounty hunter choked, gaping at the blade and handle protruding from his abdomen. Jack clambered to his feet, using the bench as support to sit on it.
Evans gave a horrible cry, the life spilling from him. In his last rush of dying strength, he charged at Jack, who hoisted his booted foot to ward off the sudden attack. Jack's boot slammed the blade farther into Evans, who stumbled backwards, falling to his knees in the dirty water of the Pearl's bring. Jack looked into the dying man's glazed eyes and shook his head, saying clearly only one phrase.
"That was for Ana."
"Jack!" James Norrington's voice rang out from above.
"Aye?" Jack asked tiredly, pulling himself to his feet.
James came barreling down the stairs and stopped on the landing, stopping only to say breathlessly, "Adler has escaped!"
Jack grabbed his fallen sword, kicking Evans' body out of the way. As he hurridly climbed the stairs, one phrase that Gibbs often used seemed most appropriate. "Mary, mother o' God," Jack breathed bleakly, sprinting as fast as he was able to where he knew Anamaria was.
-
-
-
"Ana! Ana open the blasted door!"
Anamaria heard Jack's voice yelling frantically from outside the locked door and started, both pairs of eyes in the cabin shooting towards the door handle.
Adler bared his teeth menacingly and Ana saw his knife rise up and begin its arch downward to him. She grabbed his wrist, struggling against his larger from to get it. She shoved him hard on his bandaged shoulder, and he stumbled backwards, doubling over for several seconds.
It was enough time.
Automatically, Ana slipped her dagger out of her sleeve. Charles straightened up with a cry of rage and rushed at her, his knife raised to head level, clutched in white-knuckled fingers.
As he reached her, standing barely a foot from her, the knife began its descent. Anamaria stepped forward, seeing it glinting in the soft cabin light and buried her dagger in his neck.
Charles dropped his weapon with a clatter. The blood poured from his wound, running down his shirt to stain his clothes a bright crimson. Ana stared in horror at him, at what she had done, and somewhere she heard a gunshot go off.
Charles stumbled forwards, collapsing onto her and she, horrified, struggled against his heavy weight as it pushed her backwards.
Jack Sparrow threw down his smoking pistol and pushed open the heavy door, slamming it against the wall. He quickly took in the scene in front of him and rushed to Anamaria's aid, pushing the bloody man off of her. He fell to the floor, landing on his back, and Jack watched as his eyes assumed the empty stare of death.
Behind the pirate captain, the British Royal Navy officers and Black Pearl crew flooded the doorway of the cabin, stopping short at what they saw and gaping.
Ana dropped to her knees beside him, staring blankly at the dead man's fallen body. Jack knelt beside her and slipped his arms around her rigid body. When she didn't respond, uncaring of her wounds or his, Jack drew her onto his lap and pulled her into his chest, breaking her fixed gaze.
Ana drew one long, shuddering sob and buried her head in Jack's shoulder, her hands clutching at his shirt. "Is it over?" she managed to say.
"It's alright now, love," Jack whispered into her hair, his lips fumbling over it to kiss it and form words, "It's over. Ye can finally let go."
-
-
-
AN: I'll post an epilogue as soon as I can to wrap it all up. Sorry I couldn't have this up last night, had to watch the superbowl (love my PATS!). Merci, my reviewers. You're all amazing.
-
-
-
Chapter 22: To Bleed
____________________
-
-
"Well, well, well," Jack Sparrow muttered as he squatted down to run his finger through the smudged blood stain on the docks. It wasn't dry yet, which meant that someone bleeding, Evans it seemed, was here. Somewhere. Jack paced off the trail, halting when it halted. He looked up at the Pearl, eyes searching out possible routes. His eyes caught and held on one of the canon hatches, open. He frowned, knowing that to be out of place.
"Mister Gibbs!" the pirate captain barked.
"Aye, Capt'n," Gibbs growled, appearing at his side.
"Where does that there portal lead to, pray tell?" Jack asked him, pointing.
"Methinks down by the brig, sir."
"And where did ye find that rope?" Jack asked patiently.
Gibbs tapped his grizzled face, trying to remember, the contents of his flask long since affecting his memory. "Ahh, it be. . .just there!" Gibbs suddenly remembered, pointing a ragged-nailed finger at a spot just five feet closer to the ship directly below the portal, looking extremely proud of himself.
Jack fought the urge to smack himself on the head and turned on his heel and began to jog towards the ship, mumbling something about daft crewmembers and stringing an easy two and two together. He headed towards the brig, ignoring the uneasy looks those of his crew still awake were shooting at him as he daintily plucked a small hanging lantern from the railing. He descending into the brig, letting an exasperated sigh escape him when he discovered that the leak there hadn't been completely fixed yet.
He drew his sword with a satisfying swish and tried to tiptoe through the damp floor to make as little noise as possible. He heard the whir of an appendage through the air too late, something hard striking him in the side. Jack stumbled, sucking in his breath at the sudden fire that plagued his body as the thing struck his sore half-healed wounds.
He scrambled to his feet, squinting in the darkness to see what it was that had struck him. He caught movement in the corner of his eye and lashed out, his sword tip's arc catching some resistance as it scratched the assailant. Panting, Jack grinned, gold teeth glinting in the blackness and advanced on the fallen man. He heard the stomping of footsteps above him and cursed softly, knowing the blasted British Navy would be storming the place in a matter of minutes. In the dim light of the lantern Jack was holding tightly in one hand, he could make out the bloodied and bruised form of Evans fallen to his hands and knees against small pile of sandbags.
As Jack kicked him in the side, Evans collapsed with a grunt. The knife he held shot out, and Evans noticed sand spilling out of the slash into the puddle of water covering the floorboards. Evans raised himself to his knees, clutching a handful of sand and seawater in his fist. Leering at the unsuspecting pirate captain standing triumphantly over him, the bounty hunter flung the mixture at him.
Jack felt something invade his eyes, stinging them. He dropped the lantern in surprise with a crash as he tried to open and eyes and could not, rubbing at the gritty substance that had invaded them. He felt a knife graze his shirt as he stumbled away, swinging out wildly in wide arcs with his cutlass.
Something sharp and pointed dug into his hand painfully and Jack yelped in surprise, dropping his cutlass. Jack stood frozen as he felt cold and slippery metal come in contact with his throat.
-
-
-
"I thought ye were locked up," Anamaria asked sharply, painfully sitting up straight and staring at him in confusion. Her heart began to hammer painfully in her chest.
"I did too, darling. That is, until I discovered that the ship's doctor was an old friend of mine. Doctor Jenkins, I'm sure you remember him, Maria," Adler said slowly and smugly, making sure the door was locked behind him.
Ana's eyes widened in horror and her face went dark with rage, "Bastard!" Oh, she remembered the prized Dr. Jenkins who was too high and mighty to spare some medicine to ease Stephan's fever and abate his cries. The prized doctor could have saved her son's life. "I shall scream," she said harshly, seeing the knife in his hand as he stepped closer to her.
"There's no need. . . yet," Charles replied nonchalantly, "Unless you'd like to die, of course."
"Ye need me to receive yer precious payment," Ana sneered.
Charles clucked his tongue in reproving and he took his merry time in answering, going to behind Jack's desk and pouring himself a glass of rum. He tasted it and made a face, but continued to drink it, giving an 'oh, well' look towards the woman on the bed. He swirled the contents of his glass around before continuing, "You see, my dear, I no longer care for something as petty as monetary compensation. There's something that I hold much more dearly to my heart."
Ana stared blankly at him, feeling her hope sink like a canon to Davy Jones Locker.
"Revenge," Charles replied as if it were obvious, his expression twisting into that of one completely corrupted. At that moment, Ana was struck by his resemblance to Barbosa; his greed familiar. "I seem to think we have a little time before we have to do anything, and I'm in no rush if your not. So tell me Maria, how long has it been, five years?"
"Eight," Ana gritted her teeth.
"My, my, how time flies," Charles exclaimed. He settled himself carefully in the chair across from the bed and propped his feet up, "Since there's no hurry, let me tell you what I've been keeping myself busy with."
Sighing, Ana propped herself up against the wall so she could face him, feeling the somewhat comforting presence of her dagger up her sleeve. "Go on, then," she said tiredly.
"Well, after you left I missed you terribly-" he began
Ana snorted and he glared at her, looking offended. "Go on," she said again, "Ye missed me 'orribly, then what?"
"As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted," Charles began again, fingering his knife carefully, "I sent out search parties to look for you for over a year and I eventually had to believe you had died. You'll have to tell me, my dear, where you were all that time. Let's see, I acquired another plantation in the Americas and have wonderful workers who adore me- "
Ana rolled her eyes. "Obviously," she muttered under her breath.
Charles was regarding her harshly, still playing with his knife and he deliberately sighed delicately. "All right, Maria, since this is so boring to you, go on, do tell where you've been all this time. Or did you just go straight to being another whore aboard this godforsaken ship."
Ana bristled, "I'm no one's whore, mate."
Charles rolled his eyes delicately, "Please."
"I'm a bloody pirate! No one's whore and haven't been since ye slimy, mangy, repulsive cad t-" Ana yelled, her voice tone going dangerously high.
Charles moved two steps forward two steps and backhanded her, clapping his hand over her mouth. "Be nice, Maria. I don't want to have to hurt you until I'm good and ready. When you've decided to behave, by all means, go on."
Ana's eyes shot fire at him and she squirmed at his touch, finally shaking free but not attempting to shout, seeing more advantages to keep him talking than infuriate the man into making violent reactions. "I've changed quite a lot since ye knew me. Done a lot o' things."
"Well, I'm waiting," Charles said, his eyebrow raised in careless curiosity.
"I bartered a passage off some traders at port and found meself in Barbados. I posed as a boy for a while doin' odd jobs wherever needed. Eventually about two years ago I found myself aboard a merchant ship as a crewmember," she smiled, reminiscing, "And the ship was taken over by none other than Jack Sparrow and his pirates."
"How touching. Is that when you became his whor-I mean, lover?" Charles sneered, slow and lazy to correct himself, his eyes showing that he knew exactly what he meant and it wasn't lover.
Ana snapped back to focus, "No," she snapped, "Jack took me aboard back as a crewmember and I ended up in Tortuga with enough money to buy me own boat and I was in business actin' as a ferry for a while." She shook her head, her memories slamming closed. "Jack came back, stole me boat and sank it, then came lookin' for a crew, and I happened to sign on. The end."
"Touching," Charles wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. Ana rolled her eyes and shot him a distain-filled look. Charles lost all pretense of even sarcasm and suddenly pointed his knife out at her. "Stand up," he snapped, catching her actions and reaching his shallow breaking point.
Anamaria reluctantly stood, though it pained her to do so. She bit her lip, drawing blood as she straightened up, standing before her former master. He flicked up his knife with his uninjured arm, holding it in the hollow of her throat.
"Time to die, Maria."
_
-
-
Jack squeezed his eyes closed, thinking it to be the end. He never had been a religious man, but now he found himself thinking of whatever was up there and asking to be spared. The whish of steel in the still air caused him to wince, but surprisingly no pain came. Was this what it was like to die? To not even feel the blow? Jack waited for whatever was to come, but was completely unprepared as a familiar voice broke though the silence.
"On your feet,"
Jack peeked his eyes painfully open to see Will Turner there like a hero out a fairytale pointing his sword the kneeling for of Evans. When had Evans gotten to his knees? Jack realized the man had also dropped his knife.
"Will?" Jack blinked, still trying to figure out what the boy was doing here.
"Jack," Will acknowledged, drawing his other sword and handing it to Jack without looking at him, keeping his other blade steady at Evans' chest.
Jack came to an immediate decision, grasping the sword handle with one hand and wiping his stinging eyes with the other. He could make out the two blurry forms around him as he felt the water pouring from his eyes wash away some of the grit. "Will, I thank ye m'boy, but now ye must leave us."
"But Jack--?" Will began to ask, sounding both like Jack passionately brave and he was daft both at once.
"Firstly," Jack said, swinging around to face him, "It's Captain Jack, savvy? And secondly. . ." Jack frowned, losing his train of thought while Will looked on in bewilderment. He suddenly remembered, with a triumphant grin, "Ah yes, secondly, ye will leave us be to finish this for good."
His new tone left no room for argument, and Will, frowning, carefully ascended the stairs, looking back cautiously several times.
Evans climbed to his feet and seized Jack's sword on the ground. The two began to fight, Evans attacking and Jack parrying back. Then Jack attacked, propelled by revenge and a sense of duty. He forced the hunter back into a cell, and in the narrow confines of the metal enclosures, the swords several times hit the bars, making an unpleasantly loud ringing sound.
Evans swung out wildly, catching Jack's white sash in the process, neatly tearing it in two. Jack felt no cut of the sword and paused, looking at the two pieces of the sacrificed sash mournfully. "That was me favorite one, mate," he said with a sigh.
With an enraged yell, Evans leapt at him again, and Jack jumped on top of the bench to avoid his wild swipes. Jack lashed out with his foot and got Evans in his sword hand. Evans hissed but did not drop his sword. Jack stepped forward to attack from his height atop the bench, but in the darkness he misjudged it and lost his footing, falling to the wet floor, his sword falling just out of reach.
"Truce, mate?" Jack asked agreeably, panting and slouched against the bench.
Evans bared his teeth and lashed out for the final swipe. Jack, faster than it should have been humanly possibly, drew his boot knife and plunged it into the man's stomach.
The bounty hunter choked, gaping at the blade and handle protruding from his abdomen. Jack clambered to his feet, using the bench as support to sit on it.
Evans gave a horrible cry, the life spilling from him. In his last rush of dying strength, he charged at Jack, who hoisted his booted foot to ward off the sudden attack. Jack's boot slammed the blade farther into Evans, who stumbled backwards, falling to his knees in the dirty water of the Pearl's bring. Jack looked into the dying man's glazed eyes and shook his head, saying clearly only one phrase.
"That was for Ana."
"Jack!" James Norrington's voice rang out from above.
"Aye?" Jack asked tiredly, pulling himself to his feet.
James came barreling down the stairs and stopped on the landing, stopping only to say breathlessly, "Adler has escaped!"
Jack grabbed his fallen sword, kicking Evans' body out of the way. As he hurridly climbed the stairs, one phrase that Gibbs often used seemed most appropriate. "Mary, mother o' God," Jack breathed bleakly, sprinting as fast as he was able to where he knew Anamaria was.
-
-
-
"Ana! Ana open the blasted door!"
Anamaria heard Jack's voice yelling frantically from outside the locked door and started, both pairs of eyes in the cabin shooting towards the door handle.
Adler bared his teeth menacingly and Ana saw his knife rise up and begin its arch downward to him. She grabbed his wrist, struggling against his larger from to get it. She shoved him hard on his bandaged shoulder, and he stumbled backwards, doubling over for several seconds.
It was enough time.
Automatically, Ana slipped her dagger out of her sleeve. Charles straightened up with a cry of rage and rushed at her, his knife raised to head level, clutched in white-knuckled fingers.
As he reached her, standing barely a foot from her, the knife began its descent. Anamaria stepped forward, seeing it glinting in the soft cabin light and buried her dagger in his neck.
Charles dropped his weapon with a clatter. The blood poured from his wound, running down his shirt to stain his clothes a bright crimson. Ana stared in horror at him, at what she had done, and somewhere she heard a gunshot go off.
Charles stumbled forwards, collapsing onto her and she, horrified, struggled against his heavy weight as it pushed her backwards.
Jack Sparrow threw down his smoking pistol and pushed open the heavy door, slamming it against the wall. He quickly took in the scene in front of him and rushed to Anamaria's aid, pushing the bloody man off of her. He fell to the floor, landing on his back, and Jack watched as his eyes assumed the empty stare of death.
Behind the pirate captain, the British Royal Navy officers and Black Pearl crew flooded the doorway of the cabin, stopping short at what they saw and gaping.
Ana dropped to her knees beside him, staring blankly at the dead man's fallen body. Jack knelt beside her and slipped his arms around her rigid body. When she didn't respond, uncaring of her wounds or his, Jack drew her onto his lap and pulled her into his chest, breaking her fixed gaze.
Ana drew one long, shuddering sob and buried her head in Jack's shoulder, her hands clutching at his shirt. "Is it over?" she managed to say.
"It's alright now, love," Jack whispered into her hair, his lips fumbling over it to kiss it and form words, "It's over. Ye can finally let go."
-
-
-
AN: I'll post an epilogue as soon as I can to wrap it all up. Sorry I couldn't have this up last night, had to watch the superbowl (love my PATS!). Merci, my reviewers. You're all amazing.
-
-
-
