Broken Wings
A Pirates of the Caribbean story by Merrie
Disclaimer: All I own is a variety of ticket stubs, a poster that talks to me at night and stares at me while I write, and one overly played soundtrack. If that adds up to owning POTC, then why didn't anyone tell me??!! I'll go get started on the sequel right now!!! But I doubt it does. Alas.
Summary: Captain Jack has lost his ship, his crew, and nearly his life to a horrible new curse. Will this Sparrow be able soar again after his wings have been broken?
Characters: Captain Jack Sparrow, Will Turner, Elizabeth Swann, Commodore Norrington, and all the wonderful cast of POTC.
Author's Note: Thank you so much to those of you who reviewed! And a special thanks to Miss Becky for betaing!!! You're the best, Miss B. This chapter is by far happier than any of my others have been. I hope you like it!
Rating: This story is rated PG-13 for violence and language.
Chapter 5: Stealing-No-Commandeering, Salvation and Storms
"That has got to be the worst plan I've ever heard of, Will." Commodore Norrington said with a frown.
"It sounded rather good to me," Elizabeth interjected.
Norrington fought not to roll his eyes. As much as he loved the girl, sometimes she could be a little thickheaded. "Elizabeth, dear, I'm afraid there is no way we are going to pull this off."
"Oh come on, James. If Jack can do it, then you most certainly can as well." Will said with a small smile.
"Wait a minute, what do you mean if Jack can do it? Sparrow has done this before? And he got away with it?" Norrington asked incredulously.
"Well yes. I'm not entirely sure he got away with it though. Weren't you listening to the hangman read off the list of his charges before you tried to hang him? It was in there." Will asked him in a slightly angered tone of voice.
Norrington heard his tone and tried his best not too look away in guilt. He had been doing his job. He hadn't been happy about having to hang Sparrow even then, but it was the law. "No, I'm afraid I had other things on my mind at the time." Norrington said evenly, giving Will a stern gaze.
It was all Will could do not to falter under Norrington's gaze, and he spoke with shame. "I am sorry. I shouldn't have said it like that. I know you were just doing your job." Will said softly before shooting Norrington with a stern gaze of his own. "But you don't want to do that job any longer, correct? I know you said you'd help us rescue Jack, and forgive me for doubting you, but if you try and hurt him in any way, or if this is just a ploy to get him back in that noose, you'll have to come through me. Do you understand?"
Norrington had to smile at the young lad's seemingly unwavering loyalty to the pirate he called friend. He wasn't sure Sparrow deserved such loyalty, and he hoped he appreciated it. "I understand, Mr. Turner. I will do nothing to put your friend in jeopardy. I give you my word."
Satisfied with this, Will nodded with a smile. "Then let's see about getting you some priest's robes, shall we?"
***
Cursing himself for ever agreeing to such a monumentally stupid plan, Norrington made his way down to the dock where the navy had berthed their ships. 'How in God's name did Sparrow manage to pull this off? These robes are damned itchy,' Norrington thought to himself, scratching at his arms underneath the woolen black robes of a man of the cloth. 'And who would have ever believed Sparrow to be a priest? As soon as he smiled that ghastly metallic grin of his, the game would be up. Father Sparrow my foot,' Norrington thought with a frown, turning his attention back to the situation at hand. He had to make it aboard the ship somehow and manage to get all of the crew members off. But how? "This would have been so much easier if I could have just gone as myself and ordered the men off. I'm a Commodore. They would have to listen to me." But of course, it wasn't every day that a commodore of the British Royal Navy ordered men off of a ship, so there would no doubt be some suspicion to that idea. So, back to being a priest then.
"You there, Father! What brings you down on these docks at this time of day?" A lieutenant aboard the very ship Will had wanted him to 'commandeer' called out.
'Damn you Sparrow if this doesn't work.' "Ahoy there, laddie. Tis a fine mornin' in't? May I speaks to ye in private?" Norrington's tongue stumbled around the unfamiliar Irish accent, but he managed well enough.
"Aye, Father. I'll be right down," the man called out. Norrington sighed in relief. 'Now for the hard part.' After what seemed like an eternity, the young man stood in front of him. Norrington had thought at first to call upon the Captain of the ship, but he had worried too much that he might be recognized by a man of higher rank. "What was it you wanted to speak to me about, Father?" the young man asked eagerly.
"Tis grave news I bring, son. There be something aboard your ship." Norrington said, affecting a horrified gaze. "Something that will kill all of ye if you do not leave quickly."
The young sailor's eyes widened as he listened. Norrington tried not to grin. Was it luck or fate that he had come upon what looked like the most superstitious and gullible young man in the Caribbean? "What's aboard? Some kind of demon? Say, Father. I pray you speak on."
"Nay son, be it not a demon." Norrington seemed to pause to ponder his words. "Or, it be not a demon of the likes ye be thinkin' of. Nay, I fear it tis a plague aboard your ship."
"A plague!" the young man shouted aloud in fright, just the response Norrington had been praying for, and every man in close proximity; there were quite a few, turned towards them.
"Aye lad, a plague. One of yer shipmates came to me church not but hours ago, raving and sick as a dog, he was. I fear he may be in the arms of the Lord, now. But whatever illness he had with him surely remains on your ship." Norrington said, raising his voice so the men on board could hear as well. "Ye must abandon it at—" Norrington cut himself off with a hacking wheezing cough, trying to make it sound as if he were almost in the Lord's arms himself. It worked. The young man backed away rapidly and ran to the ship. "Abandon ship! Abandon ship! All men run for your lives!" Norrington felt himself start to laugh at the utter stupidity of this man, and coughed even harder to cover it up, falling to the ground in what looked like the throes of death itself. From his place on the ground, he could feel the deck shaking as the rest of the crew ran off as well, the lieutenant's shouts and Norrington's act going far to convince them.
"What is the meaning of all this?" the Captain of the ship shouted out, setting foot on the dock a step behind most of his crew.
"A plague, sir! Run for your life!" a random sailor called out, pushing past him.
"A plague, you say?" the Captain didn't look as if he believed it, but then he turned to see his now empty ship, looking still and lifeless after the loss of her crew, and back to Norrington, where he was now playing dead on the dock. "Dear Lord." The man didn't exactly run away as his crew had, but he didn't walk either.
After a few long moments, Norrington opened one eye and surveyed the area around him. It was completely and totally empty. Word of the plague aboard the Saviour, for that was the ship's name, must have spread quickly. Norrington couldn't help but laugh out loud now. 'Dear God, I thought naval men were supposed to be full of logic and reasoning. These men ran as if the devil himself were on their tails.' Shaking his head at the institution of which he himself was a part, he vowed to make some changes in the navy once this whole adventure business was over. Although it suited their purposes that the men aboard ship were so easily convinced of dangers from a plague that didn't exist, the navy couldn't afford its sailors turning tail at the very thought of danger. They would be a laughingstock, and pirates would rule the seas. At the thought of pirates, or rather one pirate in particular, Norrington got up and made his way on board the ship.
Once aboard, Norrington was pleased to see that the ship was on the verge of setting sail when he had happened upon it. It was yet another instance of good fate, good luck, or both playing in their favor; and Sparrow's. Norrington quickly made his way over to the starboard side where he knew he would find the rowboat in which Elizabeth and Will waited for him. Upon seeing them there waiting, he threw down the ropes with which they could both tie the extra boat to ship, and climb aboard. Once both matters were accomplished, Will turned to him and spoke.
"I say, maybe you should give up a position in the navy and go into acting. That was brilliant!" Will said, laughing. Norrington didn't offer a response.
"I think you would be better suited in the priesthood. You look rather fetching in black." Elizabeth said, her eyes gleaming with mischief.
Norrington simply rolled his eyes and made his way to the wheel. "If you two would be so kind as to raise our anchors and not make jokes, we could be on our way to rescue your Captain Sparrow." At that, Will and Elizabeth remembered why they were aboard the ship in the first place, and went about their work, the grins falling from their faces. Norrington hadn't meant to end their humor so abruptly and sternly, but he knew that before too long some brave soul would come to check on the ship. He wanted to be long gone before that happened. And another part of him whispered that the sooner they got to Sparrow, the better it would be for all of them.
***
Jack's reality was fading, and fading fast. He could see black spots beginning to form at the edges of his vision and he knew that wasn't a good sign. He probably needed a doctor to look at whatever wound plagued him at the back of his head. His whole skull felt like it was on fire, and only getting worse. He shut his eyes tightly to push the pain away, but nothing worked, and as soon as he closed his eyes he felt himself begin to sway back and forth as the room spun and his balance was thrown off. He was about to finally lie down and give into the weariness that had been plaguing him, and if he didn't wake up again all the better at this point, when a voice echoed throughout the cave.
"Shiver me timbers." A voice called out in the deathly quiet cave. Jack groaned and shut his eyes tightly again, ignoring the reoccurring spinning of the cavern.
"Leave me be, ye damned spirit. Haven't you done enough for right now? Leave me to bleed in peace." Jack spit out. The line was called out again, and Jack forced himself to look up. His eyes widened when he landed on the source of the voice. There, unbelievably, was hope; hope sitting on a rock high above him and looking down him with bright black eyes. "Dear Lord, let this not be an illusion." Jack whispered to himself. "Mr. Cotton's parrot? Is it really you?" Jack asked with a wavering voice. If the bird had made it through all of this, perhaps he could as well.
"Wind in the sails! Wind in the sails!" the bird called out loudly. Jack, upon remembering Mr. Gibbs' words to him upon first meeting Mr. Cotton, once more took this as a 'yes.'
"D'ye think ye can get me out of here?" Jack knew it was madness to pin all his hopes on a bird that could still be an illusion, but what choice did he have? 'None. Ye have no choice at all, Jack. If you don't get out of this place soon, you'll surely go mad.' Jack started at the voice in his head, but after a moment, he realized it was not the specter come back to haunt him, but merely his own thoughts unvoiced. It was going to take awhile before he would be comfortable hearing any voice in his head, even his own.
"Wind in the sails!" the bird called out once again and took flight. Jack knew that it wouldn't be too long before the voice came back from wherever it went again, and was determined to be long gone by then. He followed a bit unsteadily, but as quickly as he could behind the flying blur of color. The bird came to roost on the far side of the cavern, and Jack's hopes dropped.
"I've already been over here, ye bleedin' bird! There's no way to get out, I've checked! Bloody hell, it looks like Captain Jack's doomed to die with his crew after all. 'Dead men tell no tales,' and all that, eh?" The bird didn't seem to disagree.
"Shiver me timbers!" the bird called once again, looking more cheerful than ever.
"And what in all creation is that supposed to mean?!" Jack was shouting now, the pounding in his head had reached its peak. His strength was almost gone as it was, and yelling in frustration at this blasted bird was most certainly using up the last of it. In his slightly demented state, Jack could have sworn the bird rolled its eyes at him. Almost. He wasn't that far gone yet. It took flight again and Jack let out a sigh. If the bird was trying to show or tell him something, he was much too weary to figure it out.
"Land, ho!" the bird called out, having roosted on the rocks. Jack rolled his eyes and looked up to where the bird had landed. There, to his utter disbelief was a break in the rocks. It wasn't much, but he wasn't an overly large man and he thought he could fit into it with little trouble. Not bothering to question why he hadn't noticed it before, he made his way toward the bird and was severely tempted to give it a sound kiss on the beak when he had managed to get free of this tomb. A part of him rebelled at him leaving, it reminded him that he had a promise to keep in getting the bodies of his crew out of there and laid to rest. Jack had no intentions of breaking his word; he had made a promise, and he was bloody well going to keep it, but right now he had to get out of the awful place or he would surely go insane. Ever so gently, he moved some of the larger rocks from around the exit aside, widening it ever so slightly. When he saw that he could make it out, it would be a tight fit, but he could make it, it went for it.
Ignoring the wave of claustrophobia that rushed over him as he slithered through the small opening, he managed inch by inch to get ever closer the brilliantly shining early morning light at the end. He saw this bright light at the end of the tunnel and he yearned for it with all of his being. 'Dear God, I'm almost free!' Jack allowed himself to celebrate, not a whole lot, because there were still somber matters to deal with, but some. He would be free to breathe in the sweet ocean air, bathe in the warm Caribbean sunlight, and figure out what to do next. 'At last I'll finally be free of that damned voice!' he thought to himself. He had replaced all the stolen gold, and now he was leaving its cave. He felt relatively sure that it would leave him alone now. After all, what profit could there be in tormenting him any further? He was so caught up in his thoughts of the mysterious voice that he fell flat on his face as he reached the end of the tunnel and fell out onto the sand. 'Oh God, the sand!' he joyfully placed a hard kiss on the sand beneath his face, not caring that it now coated his lips and beard. He was free! He was alive, he was relatively unharmed, dizziness and nausea telling him otherwise, and he was out in the sunlight! Rising gently to his feet, ignoring the almost encumbering nausea that seemed to accompany his every act now, he squinted up at the sky and his breath was taken away by the utter beauty of the world before him. The sky was such a deep blue that for a moment he almost thought he had somehow fallen over and was looking at the sea by mistake. There was not a cloud in the sky to dispel this illusion. It was awe-inspiring.
And yet...there seemed to be something...he couldn't put his finger on it. There was something not right about the whole scene. The sky looked too perfect. His eyes widening in realization, Jack shuddered. He had seen this before, he knew it, and like any other experienced sailor, he feared it. This was what the sky looked like just before all hell broke loose. A storm was coming, he could feel it now. Even see the beginnings of it in the distance. A god-awful mother of a storm that would tear anything and everything in its path to shreds. "Dear God," he whispered aloud. He remembered praying with all his might for Will and Elizabeth to do anything and everything to rescue him as soon as they possibly could. If he could take back that prayer now, he would have. For few would have any chances of making it alive out of the storm that was surely coming.
'Yes, do you like it? I've made it especially for you and your friends.' the voice whispered, a smirk evident in its tone.
"No! I escaped! I'm free! You're not here!" Jack yelled hoarsely. No, it couldn't be real. He had escaped. He wasn't in the cave any longer. He had returned every last piece of gold. What more could it want from him?
'Only your suffering and eventual death.' the voice whispered cheerfully. 'Yours and all of your friend's. And you actually believed you would escape from me?' the voice laughed aloud, the sound echoing through Jack's mind. 'There is no escape. Not even in death, which you will be praying for when I'm through with you. Did you stop to think during your little egress why I didn't try and stop you? It's because you can't get away from me, Jack. Ever. Oh, and I've taken care of that blasted little bird for you. You won't be hearing from it again. All those sayings were getting on my nerves.'
Jack closed his eyes tightly. 'One more crew member to bury.'
'Aww, is poor Jack sad about his dead bird?' the voice mocked. 'Don't worry; they'll be plenty more where that came from. I haven't killed *everyone* close to you yet, have I? No, I haven't. See? We've got lots more to do together. So sit back, enjoy your time in the sun, while it lasts, I won't begrudge you that at least. It's probably going to be the last time you get to see it for a long long time.' With that, the voice left him alone to enjoy his time in the warm summer sun, but Jack never felt colder in his life.
TBC
A/N: Well, crap. I really wanted this to be a happy chapter!! I really did!! I don't know what happened!! I was all like, yea! Jack gets rescued by Mr. Cotton's parrot! And then...well, then it all went sideways and wrong.... ( Sorry about that. Heh, but at least it had some happy parts in it, right?? Heh, heh...darn it.
A Pirates of the Caribbean story by Merrie
Disclaimer: All I own is a variety of ticket stubs, a poster that talks to me at night and stares at me while I write, and one overly played soundtrack. If that adds up to owning POTC, then why didn't anyone tell me??!! I'll go get started on the sequel right now!!! But I doubt it does. Alas.
Summary: Captain Jack has lost his ship, his crew, and nearly his life to a horrible new curse. Will this Sparrow be able soar again after his wings have been broken?
Characters: Captain Jack Sparrow, Will Turner, Elizabeth Swann, Commodore Norrington, and all the wonderful cast of POTC.
Author's Note: Thank you so much to those of you who reviewed! And a special thanks to Miss Becky for betaing!!! You're the best, Miss B. This chapter is by far happier than any of my others have been. I hope you like it!
Rating: This story is rated PG-13 for violence and language.
Chapter 5: Stealing-No-Commandeering, Salvation and Storms
"That has got to be the worst plan I've ever heard of, Will." Commodore Norrington said with a frown.
"It sounded rather good to me," Elizabeth interjected.
Norrington fought not to roll his eyes. As much as he loved the girl, sometimes she could be a little thickheaded. "Elizabeth, dear, I'm afraid there is no way we are going to pull this off."
"Oh come on, James. If Jack can do it, then you most certainly can as well." Will said with a small smile.
"Wait a minute, what do you mean if Jack can do it? Sparrow has done this before? And he got away with it?" Norrington asked incredulously.
"Well yes. I'm not entirely sure he got away with it though. Weren't you listening to the hangman read off the list of his charges before you tried to hang him? It was in there." Will asked him in a slightly angered tone of voice.
Norrington heard his tone and tried his best not too look away in guilt. He had been doing his job. He hadn't been happy about having to hang Sparrow even then, but it was the law. "No, I'm afraid I had other things on my mind at the time." Norrington said evenly, giving Will a stern gaze.
It was all Will could do not to falter under Norrington's gaze, and he spoke with shame. "I am sorry. I shouldn't have said it like that. I know you were just doing your job." Will said softly before shooting Norrington with a stern gaze of his own. "But you don't want to do that job any longer, correct? I know you said you'd help us rescue Jack, and forgive me for doubting you, but if you try and hurt him in any way, or if this is just a ploy to get him back in that noose, you'll have to come through me. Do you understand?"
Norrington had to smile at the young lad's seemingly unwavering loyalty to the pirate he called friend. He wasn't sure Sparrow deserved such loyalty, and he hoped he appreciated it. "I understand, Mr. Turner. I will do nothing to put your friend in jeopardy. I give you my word."
Satisfied with this, Will nodded with a smile. "Then let's see about getting you some priest's robes, shall we?"
***
Cursing himself for ever agreeing to such a monumentally stupid plan, Norrington made his way down to the dock where the navy had berthed their ships. 'How in God's name did Sparrow manage to pull this off? These robes are damned itchy,' Norrington thought to himself, scratching at his arms underneath the woolen black robes of a man of the cloth. 'And who would have ever believed Sparrow to be a priest? As soon as he smiled that ghastly metallic grin of his, the game would be up. Father Sparrow my foot,' Norrington thought with a frown, turning his attention back to the situation at hand. He had to make it aboard the ship somehow and manage to get all of the crew members off. But how? "This would have been so much easier if I could have just gone as myself and ordered the men off. I'm a Commodore. They would have to listen to me." But of course, it wasn't every day that a commodore of the British Royal Navy ordered men off of a ship, so there would no doubt be some suspicion to that idea. So, back to being a priest then.
"You there, Father! What brings you down on these docks at this time of day?" A lieutenant aboard the very ship Will had wanted him to 'commandeer' called out.
'Damn you Sparrow if this doesn't work.' "Ahoy there, laddie. Tis a fine mornin' in't? May I speaks to ye in private?" Norrington's tongue stumbled around the unfamiliar Irish accent, but he managed well enough.
"Aye, Father. I'll be right down," the man called out. Norrington sighed in relief. 'Now for the hard part.' After what seemed like an eternity, the young man stood in front of him. Norrington had thought at first to call upon the Captain of the ship, but he had worried too much that he might be recognized by a man of higher rank. "What was it you wanted to speak to me about, Father?" the young man asked eagerly.
"Tis grave news I bring, son. There be something aboard your ship." Norrington said, affecting a horrified gaze. "Something that will kill all of ye if you do not leave quickly."
The young sailor's eyes widened as he listened. Norrington tried not to grin. Was it luck or fate that he had come upon what looked like the most superstitious and gullible young man in the Caribbean? "What's aboard? Some kind of demon? Say, Father. I pray you speak on."
"Nay son, be it not a demon." Norrington seemed to pause to ponder his words. "Or, it be not a demon of the likes ye be thinkin' of. Nay, I fear it tis a plague aboard your ship."
"A plague!" the young man shouted aloud in fright, just the response Norrington had been praying for, and every man in close proximity; there were quite a few, turned towards them.
"Aye lad, a plague. One of yer shipmates came to me church not but hours ago, raving and sick as a dog, he was. I fear he may be in the arms of the Lord, now. But whatever illness he had with him surely remains on your ship." Norrington said, raising his voice so the men on board could hear as well. "Ye must abandon it at—" Norrington cut himself off with a hacking wheezing cough, trying to make it sound as if he were almost in the Lord's arms himself. It worked. The young man backed away rapidly and ran to the ship. "Abandon ship! Abandon ship! All men run for your lives!" Norrington felt himself start to laugh at the utter stupidity of this man, and coughed even harder to cover it up, falling to the ground in what looked like the throes of death itself. From his place on the ground, he could feel the deck shaking as the rest of the crew ran off as well, the lieutenant's shouts and Norrington's act going far to convince them.
"What is the meaning of all this?" the Captain of the ship shouted out, setting foot on the dock a step behind most of his crew.
"A plague, sir! Run for your life!" a random sailor called out, pushing past him.
"A plague, you say?" the Captain didn't look as if he believed it, but then he turned to see his now empty ship, looking still and lifeless after the loss of her crew, and back to Norrington, where he was now playing dead on the dock. "Dear Lord." The man didn't exactly run away as his crew had, but he didn't walk either.
After a few long moments, Norrington opened one eye and surveyed the area around him. It was completely and totally empty. Word of the plague aboard the Saviour, for that was the ship's name, must have spread quickly. Norrington couldn't help but laugh out loud now. 'Dear God, I thought naval men were supposed to be full of logic and reasoning. These men ran as if the devil himself were on their tails.' Shaking his head at the institution of which he himself was a part, he vowed to make some changes in the navy once this whole adventure business was over. Although it suited their purposes that the men aboard ship were so easily convinced of dangers from a plague that didn't exist, the navy couldn't afford its sailors turning tail at the very thought of danger. They would be a laughingstock, and pirates would rule the seas. At the thought of pirates, or rather one pirate in particular, Norrington got up and made his way on board the ship.
Once aboard, Norrington was pleased to see that the ship was on the verge of setting sail when he had happened upon it. It was yet another instance of good fate, good luck, or both playing in their favor; and Sparrow's. Norrington quickly made his way over to the starboard side where he knew he would find the rowboat in which Elizabeth and Will waited for him. Upon seeing them there waiting, he threw down the ropes with which they could both tie the extra boat to ship, and climb aboard. Once both matters were accomplished, Will turned to him and spoke.
"I say, maybe you should give up a position in the navy and go into acting. That was brilliant!" Will said, laughing. Norrington didn't offer a response.
"I think you would be better suited in the priesthood. You look rather fetching in black." Elizabeth said, her eyes gleaming with mischief.
Norrington simply rolled his eyes and made his way to the wheel. "If you two would be so kind as to raise our anchors and not make jokes, we could be on our way to rescue your Captain Sparrow." At that, Will and Elizabeth remembered why they were aboard the ship in the first place, and went about their work, the grins falling from their faces. Norrington hadn't meant to end their humor so abruptly and sternly, but he knew that before too long some brave soul would come to check on the ship. He wanted to be long gone before that happened. And another part of him whispered that the sooner they got to Sparrow, the better it would be for all of them.
***
Jack's reality was fading, and fading fast. He could see black spots beginning to form at the edges of his vision and he knew that wasn't a good sign. He probably needed a doctor to look at whatever wound plagued him at the back of his head. His whole skull felt like it was on fire, and only getting worse. He shut his eyes tightly to push the pain away, but nothing worked, and as soon as he closed his eyes he felt himself begin to sway back and forth as the room spun and his balance was thrown off. He was about to finally lie down and give into the weariness that had been plaguing him, and if he didn't wake up again all the better at this point, when a voice echoed throughout the cave.
"Shiver me timbers." A voice called out in the deathly quiet cave. Jack groaned and shut his eyes tightly again, ignoring the reoccurring spinning of the cavern.
"Leave me be, ye damned spirit. Haven't you done enough for right now? Leave me to bleed in peace." Jack spit out. The line was called out again, and Jack forced himself to look up. His eyes widened when he landed on the source of the voice. There, unbelievably, was hope; hope sitting on a rock high above him and looking down him with bright black eyes. "Dear Lord, let this not be an illusion." Jack whispered to himself. "Mr. Cotton's parrot? Is it really you?" Jack asked with a wavering voice. If the bird had made it through all of this, perhaps he could as well.
"Wind in the sails! Wind in the sails!" the bird called out loudly. Jack, upon remembering Mr. Gibbs' words to him upon first meeting Mr. Cotton, once more took this as a 'yes.'
"D'ye think ye can get me out of here?" Jack knew it was madness to pin all his hopes on a bird that could still be an illusion, but what choice did he have? 'None. Ye have no choice at all, Jack. If you don't get out of this place soon, you'll surely go mad.' Jack started at the voice in his head, but after a moment, he realized it was not the specter come back to haunt him, but merely his own thoughts unvoiced. It was going to take awhile before he would be comfortable hearing any voice in his head, even his own.
"Wind in the sails!" the bird called out once again and took flight. Jack knew that it wouldn't be too long before the voice came back from wherever it went again, and was determined to be long gone by then. He followed a bit unsteadily, but as quickly as he could behind the flying blur of color. The bird came to roost on the far side of the cavern, and Jack's hopes dropped.
"I've already been over here, ye bleedin' bird! There's no way to get out, I've checked! Bloody hell, it looks like Captain Jack's doomed to die with his crew after all. 'Dead men tell no tales,' and all that, eh?" The bird didn't seem to disagree.
"Shiver me timbers!" the bird called once again, looking more cheerful than ever.
"And what in all creation is that supposed to mean?!" Jack was shouting now, the pounding in his head had reached its peak. His strength was almost gone as it was, and yelling in frustration at this blasted bird was most certainly using up the last of it. In his slightly demented state, Jack could have sworn the bird rolled its eyes at him. Almost. He wasn't that far gone yet. It took flight again and Jack let out a sigh. If the bird was trying to show or tell him something, he was much too weary to figure it out.
"Land, ho!" the bird called out, having roosted on the rocks. Jack rolled his eyes and looked up to where the bird had landed. There, to his utter disbelief was a break in the rocks. It wasn't much, but he wasn't an overly large man and he thought he could fit into it with little trouble. Not bothering to question why he hadn't noticed it before, he made his way toward the bird and was severely tempted to give it a sound kiss on the beak when he had managed to get free of this tomb. A part of him rebelled at him leaving, it reminded him that he had a promise to keep in getting the bodies of his crew out of there and laid to rest. Jack had no intentions of breaking his word; he had made a promise, and he was bloody well going to keep it, but right now he had to get out of the awful place or he would surely go insane. Ever so gently, he moved some of the larger rocks from around the exit aside, widening it ever so slightly. When he saw that he could make it out, it would be a tight fit, but he could make it, it went for it.
Ignoring the wave of claustrophobia that rushed over him as he slithered through the small opening, he managed inch by inch to get ever closer the brilliantly shining early morning light at the end. He saw this bright light at the end of the tunnel and he yearned for it with all of his being. 'Dear God, I'm almost free!' Jack allowed himself to celebrate, not a whole lot, because there were still somber matters to deal with, but some. He would be free to breathe in the sweet ocean air, bathe in the warm Caribbean sunlight, and figure out what to do next. 'At last I'll finally be free of that damned voice!' he thought to himself. He had replaced all the stolen gold, and now he was leaving its cave. He felt relatively sure that it would leave him alone now. After all, what profit could there be in tormenting him any further? He was so caught up in his thoughts of the mysterious voice that he fell flat on his face as he reached the end of the tunnel and fell out onto the sand. 'Oh God, the sand!' he joyfully placed a hard kiss on the sand beneath his face, not caring that it now coated his lips and beard. He was free! He was alive, he was relatively unharmed, dizziness and nausea telling him otherwise, and he was out in the sunlight! Rising gently to his feet, ignoring the almost encumbering nausea that seemed to accompany his every act now, he squinted up at the sky and his breath was taken away by the utter beauty of the world before him. The sky was such a deep blue that for a moment he almost thought he had somehow fallen over and was looking at the sea by mistake. There was not a cloud in the sky to dispel this illusion. It was awe-inspiring.
And yet...there seemed to be something...he couldn't put his finger on it. There was something not right about the whole scene. The sky looked too perfect. His eyes widening in realization, Jack shuddered. He had seen this before, he knew it, and like any other experienced sailor, he feared it. This was what the sky looked like just before all hell broke loose. A storm was coming, he could feel it now. Even see the beginnings of it in the distance. A god-awful mother of a storm that would tear anything and everything in its path to shreds. "Dear God," he whispered aloud. He remembered praying with all his might for Will and Elizabeth to do anything and everything to rescue him as soon as they possibly could. If he could take back that prayer now, he would have. For few would have any chances of making it alive out of the storm that was surely coming.
'Yes, do you like it? I've made it especially for you and your friends.' the voice whispered, a smirk evident in its tone.
"No! I escaped! I'm free! You're not here!" Jack yelled hoarsely. No, it couldn't be real. He had escaped. He wasn't in the cave any longer. He had returned every last piece of gold. What more could it want from him?
'Only your suffering and eventual death.' the voice whispered cheerfully. 'Yours and all of your friend's. And you actually believed you would escape from me?' the voice laughed aloud, the sound echoing through Jack's mind. 'There is no escape. Not even in death, which you will be praying for when I'm through with you. Did you stop to think during your little egress why I didn't try and stop you? It's because you can't get away from me, Jack. Ever. Oh, and I've taken care of that blasted little bird for you. You won't be hearing from it again. All those sayings were getting on my nerves.'
Jack closed his eyes tightly. 'One more crew member to bury.'
'Aww, is poor Jack sad about his dead bird?' the voice mocked. 'Don't worry; they'll be plenty more where that came from. I haven't killed *everyone* close to you yet, have I? No, I haven't. See? We've got lots more to do together. So sit back, enjoy your time in the sun, while it lasts, I won't begrudge you that at least. It's probably going to be the last time you get to see it for a long long time.' With that, the voice left him alone to enjoy his time in the warm summer sun, but Jack never felt colder in his life.
TBC
A/N: Well, crap. I really wanted this to be a happy chapter!! I really did!! I don't know what happened!! I was all like, yea! Jack gets rescued by Mr. Cotton's parrot! And then...well, then it all went sideways and wrong.... ( Sorry about that. Heh, but at least it had some happy parts in it, right?? Heh, heh...darn it.