Broken Wings
A Pirates of the Caribbean story by Merrie
Disclaimer: No one's mine except for the 'voice' and I don't really like him that much, so I'm not sure I want to claim him either.
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: Continued thanks to Miss B. for betaing!!! Ok everyone, I'm NOT going to even pretend that this is A HAPPY CHAPTER. It isn't. Sorry.
Rating: This story is rated PG-13 for violence and language.
Chapter 6: Mirages and Madness
Jack slumped down to his knees on the sun-warmed sand and again he did something he hadn't genuinely done in a very long time; he prayed. He didn't know who or what this spirit was, and what it could do to hurt Elizabeth and Will, but he knew he couldn't face it alone. He had stopped caring what it did to him a while ago, but something in him screamed out for the safety of his friends. And he knew that they would most definitely need that safety. If he had learned anything about William Turner, it was that he didn't give up on his friends, and surprisingly enough, he considered Jack one of those friends. He was on his way to 'rescue' him; he knew it within his bones. Jack didn't know or understand how he knew this, but he could feel Will's presence getting closer and closer after every passing minute. Unfortunately, he could also see the mother of a storm coming closer and closer as well.
Finishing his prayer and turning to sit back down on the sand, he cast his eyes in its direction and really studied it for the first time. The sky was a growing black the likes of which he had never seen. The sea was calm for the time being, but he was more frightened of that than if it had been furious. Every manner of creature on what looked to be an island teeming life had grown still and silent. He knew without a doubt that he had been right at first glace to be afraid of it. It looked to be a storm to be reckoned with. And he had no doubts that it was caused by the accursed specter of his. Briefly, his eyes sought out his beloved Pearl, and he was somewhat heartened to see her still firmly anchored in the bay, her black sails fluttering slowly in what little wind remained. She really did look like the ghost ship she was rumored to be now that she was without a crew. If she hadn't been there when he had looked up......Jack had doubts about his own grasp on sanity already, but he knew that such a sight as that would have most certainly driven him over the edge. He just hoped she would still be there after the storm had passed. If it passed.
"Jack," a voice whispered to him in the distance. He had not yet trained himself to ignore the voices around him, knowing that the only other being with him was the specter, so his head shot up in recognition. There, coming towards him on the beach, her feet wet and covered with sand, her long dark hair flowing freely in the wind, was Anamaria.
'No,' Jack thought, a horrified look passing across his face. 'No being could be that cruel. To haunt me with such an image.......no, she's not real. Ana's dead, and this is not her. It can't be her. I saw her die.' He shut his eyes tightly against such a wonderful but untrue vision, and placed his hands over his ears so he wouldn't have to listen to her siren-like calls.
"Jack," 'Ana' whispered again. "It's alright you bloody pirate. I'm here now, and by God, no specter's going to get the best of me." Jack felt a hand placed firmly but gently against his shoulder, and he couldn't stop himself from leaning into her touch. God, she even smelled real. She felt exactly like his Ana in every way imaginable, but he knew it wasn't her. He knew this was simply an extension of his torment from the specter, but that didn't stop him from taking even the briefest of comforts in the false human contact. He feared that it would be the last he would have for quite awhile.
"You let me die, you know," the visage of Ana whispered cheerfully into his ear. You left me to die in that cave and now I'm there rotting with everyone else you've failed. Do you know that? You've sent me to hell Jack, I burn because of you. You killed the woman you loved, how does that make you feel? Does it make you feel bad? Does it make you feel guilty? Oh no, that's right. The famous Captain Jack Sparrow can't be made to feel guilt, can he? That's too human an emotion for the likes of him."
Such words surely sent by the devil himself spoken in the tones of his angel nearly sent Jack into another fit of weeping. He didn't want to listen to this illusion's words, but he found himself unable to stop. And he even began to agree with them. Yes, he had killed Ana. He had killed his entire crew. They lay rotting and alone in that godforsaken cave while he sat in the warm sand. He had failed them. He had brought the curse down upon their heads. It was all his fault.
"Listen to me, ye bastard!" 'Ana' slapped him hard across the face, but it was unlike any time he had been slapped before, even by Ana himself. This was full of hatred so strong that he could feel it seething off of her in waves. He fell onto his side, his head spinning with the impact. 'Ana' wasn't done however. She kicked him viciously in the ribs and continued. "You're a worthless, miserable excuse for a man, Jack. You're mother was right to leave ye. Everyone's left ye, isn't that right, Jack? Either that, or ye've gotten them killed. Ever wonder about what happened to your dear friend 'Bootstrap'? He was sent to the bottom of the ocean simply for being your friend." The thing that was not Anamaria laughed derisively. "With friends like you, Jack, who needs enemies? You do your so-called friend's enemy's work for them. You kill your friends, Jack. Ye always have. I can't stand the sight of you. You disgust me." Jack kept his eyes fixed towards the sand beneath him, forcing himself not to listen to the demon that sounded so much like his Anamaria. It even looked like her. Before he could stop himself, he let his eyes wander back to where she stood above him, and he recoiled in horror, the place where she had kicked him ablaze with pain from the sudden movement. "That's right, Jack. Do you like what you see? This is what ye've done to me. This is what ye've done to all your so- called friends,"
'Oh God,' he thought, forcing the bile that had risen up in the back of his throat away. 'Her face, oh God, her face,' The illusion was in a rapid state of decay, rotting skin was a patchwork of green and purple splotches and it hang loosely off of her cheeks, her eyes shrunken in their sockets. She smiled, a horrible jackal-like smile, and he could see that many of her once perfect teeth had fallen out as well. "That's right, Jack. Take a good long look. You did this to me. You and your greed. It was your idea to go after the gold, wasn't it? Your idea to track down this cave and 'take what you want and give nothing back,' is that right? You brought your crew here to die. You brought me here to die. Oh, and guess what? Your remaining friends?" She laughed gleefully. "The only friends you've got left that are still alive? You're bringing them here to die as well. It's only a matter of time. I'll be sure and greet them proper in hell." She kicked him again even harder than the last time, and Jack felt the oh too familiar pain of a few of his ribs breaking. He gasped for air, looking up at where the illusion had stood, but she was gone.
He rolled over on his back, clutching his aching, broken ribs in his hands and stared at the still blue sky, tears running down his cheeks. The tears weren't from the pain, having a broken rib or two hurt like hell, but it was a hell Jack had been unfortunately accustomed to. He knew that if he wrapped the broken ribs tightly and didn't move, they should cause him little trouble. He didn't cry for the pain of the split lip the illusion had given him either, even though the sand that had coated it when he fell stung wretchedly. No, he cried because try as he might, he could not push her words out of his mind. He had killed his friends, and now he was in hell. There was no other explanation for it. No world could ever be this cruel. With that thought, Jack felt his last hold on reality, on sanity, begin to slip.
***
"Is this weather natural, James?" Elizabeth asked with a frown on her face, staring up at the calm sky. "I don't like it. It gives me a bad feeling."
Norrington sighed and cast his eyes to the horizon. "As well it should, Elizabeth. The sea is much too calm. I fear a storm is on its way."
"A storm? What kind of storm?" Will asked, coming to stand by the wheel where Elizabeth and Norrington stood.
"A frightful bad one if I'm judging correctly. Sailors have learned to worry when the sea looks like this. When the sea goes dead calm silent, it's best if you dock somewhere, and soon."
"Dock? But we can't dock! Who knows what's happening to Jack right now!" Will shouted, the worry for his friend plain on his face.
"I understand your worry for Sparrow, Will, but we may have no choice. I don't think the three of us can handle this ship in a storm. And it will do Sparrow no good to get ourselves killed on the way to rescue him, now would it?" Will sighed, but seemed to accept Norrington's words. "Unfortunately, I don't think we're going to be able to dock anyway. At least, not before the storm strikes."
"What do you mean?" Will asked, his brow furrowing.
"Look there," Norrington pointed to the distance where black clouds loomed ever closer to them, huge and threatening. The sea had gone as still as glass, and yet some unfelt wind was pushing the storm seemingly directly towards them at a rapid pace.
"My God," Elizabeth whispered. "*That's* a storm? It's coming right for us!"
Will and Norrington couldn't help but agree with this observation. The storm seemed to be pulled towards them by some invisible string tied to their main mast. And it didn't look as if they would be able to cut it. "Hoist canvas!" Norrington yelled to his 'crew.' "If we don't, the sails will be ripped apart! Hurry!" This was quite a feat to be accomplished what with only Will and Elizabeth being able to help, Norrington had to stay at the wheel and steer the ship, but they somehow managed. Without the sails catching what little wind there was, the Saviour soon came to a dead stop, floating listlessly along in the still too calm sea.
"How much time do you think we have before it hits?" Will asked as calmly as he could. He didn't want to worry Elizabeth any more than necessary, but that didn't seem to be an option.
"Not enough, I fear. And out in the open like this, it will be much worse." Norrington said with a frown, having walked up next to where Will and Elizabeth stood as he was not needed to steer the ship if it wasn't moving. "I have a feeling that the storm headed for us right now is not going to slow down any time soon, and we have absolutely no cover from the elements."
"Do you think Jack will be alright?" Elizabeth asked slowly, her mind cast to their lost Captain.
"My dear Elizabeth, I think we're going to have to worry about ourselves first. I understand your worry for Captain Sparrow, but we must look to our own survival before we can worry about his. Anyway, I'm sure he'll be fine—" Norrington was cut off by a loud gasp from Will. "Will? What is it? What's wrong? Are you injured?"
"Oh God, no, it's not me. It's, it's Jack. We need to get to him. We need to get to him now. Or else I think he'll be lost to us," Will said with a shudder.
"What do you mean, 'lost'? Lost how?" Norrington asked him, his brow furrowing. The young man before him had seemed to loose all color the instant he gasped, and now looked as if he was about to be knocked over by the first light breeze that came along.
"I'm not exactly sure. But he needs our help. And I don't know where any of this knowledge is coming from either, so don't bother asking," After waiting a moment to let his words sink in, Will continued in a soft, horrified voice. "I think he may be going mad."
A quip about how Sparrow had always seemed a bit mad to him was on the tip of Norrington's tongue before he saw the look of utter seriousness and fear pass Will's face. After a moment's thought, he found he wasn't that surprised. If what Will had said about the death of the man's crew was true, that in itself would be enough to drive any man to the brink of madness and beyond. But there was something else, something that he himself felt in the air. Something sinister behind this whole ordeal. He couldn't explain this feeling any more than Will could explain his intuitions, but he felt it, all the same. "We'll do all we can to reach him as soon as possible, Will. On that, you have my word."
Will didn't seem to take any real comfort in his words, so Elizabeth stepped in, laying a hand gently on her fiancé's shoulder. "Jack will be alright, Will. He's faced many more perilous dangers than this, I'm sure. I know, because I've read about them. Even if his stories about his escape from the island were untrue, I'm sure there's some truth at least in the rest of them. And he's Captain Jack Sparrow, remember? If anyone is going to come out of this on top, it'll be him. You'll see," she said with a smile, it was small, but it was unforced.
Will wanted to take heart in Elizabeth's words, but he couldn't shake the cold feeling that filled him now at every thought of his friend. 'We're coming, Jack. Just hold on a little while longer. We're coming,' he vowed silently to himself, hoping somehow the message would reach his friend. He dreaded what they would find if it did not.
***
"I'm in hell, this is hell, I'm in hell, this is hell, I'm in hell, this is hell," this horrid manta could be heard passing Captain Jack Sparrow's slightly parted lips. His face was blank, his eyes staring in the direction that "Ana" had gone. He sat on the sand, gently rocking back and forth, not caring that his broken ribs were screaming at him, not caring about anything at all really. He was about to give into the pain and mercifully fall into unconsciousness when the specter spoke up cheerfully,
'Aww, it looks like poor Jack's been broken. Whatever will his friends do now to find that you've reverted into a drooling madman?'
Something in this question gave a part of Jack's mind pause. His friends.......he remembered his friends. Will, Elizabeth. The image of a hundred other lost friends passed through his near-shattered mind in a heartbeat, causing Jack to shut his eyes tight and groan aloud in pain. "My friends," he spit out through clenched teeth slowly, "are coming for me. And when they get here, you won't matter." Jack was gaining strength and speed to his speech, and he sped on, "You're just a specter; a curse. And I've dealt with curses before. I've beaten curses before, and I will beat you. You're nothing. You're a bleedin' gnat in my ear and nothing more."
'Well now,' the voice said, with an air of amusement. 'That was empowered. Do you feel better now? I sure hope you do, because as much of a joy it is for me to see you in a state of utter madness, I'm not quite through with you yet. And as for the line about the gnat in your ear; that was good. I liked that,' A sudden loud roar all around him filled his ears, sending him screaming to his knees, his hands clutched to his head, praying for the noise to stop. When it finally did, Jack nearly sobbed in relief. 'How was that? Was that gnat-like enough for you, Sparrow?' the voice asked coldly.
"You won't beat me," Jack whispered firmly one last time before his battered and abused body finally decided that it had had enough, and succumbed to the darkness that waited for him.
TBC
A/N: Me: Hello, my name is Merrie, and I'm evil. Group: Hello Merrie. Me: I torture Jack for my own amusement and pleasure. *gasps are heard among the group* Group Leader: Admitting this is the first step towards recovery, Merrie. Congratulations. Me: Yea. Group Leader: But remember, it's a long road to recovery, you'll not cured tomorrow. Or next chapter, or the chapter after that, or the one after that.......but someday.
A Pirates of the Caribbean story by Merrie
Disclaimer: No one's mine except for the 'voice' and I don't really like him that much, so I'm not sure I want to claim him either.
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: Continued thanks to Miss B. for betaing!!! Ok everyone, I'm NOT going to even pretend that this is A HAPPY CHAPTER. It isn't. Sorry.
Rating: This story is rated PG-13 for violence and language.
Chapter 6: Mirages and Madness
Jack slumped down to his knees on the sun-warmed sand and again he did something he hadn't genuinely done in a very long time; he prayed. He didn't know who or what this spirit was, and what it could do to hurt Elizabeth and Will, but he knew he couldn't face it alone. He had stopped caring what it did to him a while ago, but something in him screamed out for the safety of his friends. And he knew that they would most definitely need that safety. If he had learned anything about William Turner, it was that he didn't give up on his friends, and surprisingly enough, he considered Jack one of those friends. He was on his way to 'rescue' him; he knew it within his bones. Jack didn't know or understand how he knew this, but he could feel Will's presence getting closer and closer after every passing minute. Unfortunately, he could also see the mother of a storm coming closer and closer as well.
Finishing his prayer and turning to sit back down on the sand, he cast his eyes in its direction and really studied it for the first time. The sky was a growing black the likes of which he had never seen. The sea was calm for the time being, but he was more frightened of that than if it had been furious. Every manner of creature on what looked to be an island teeming life had grown still and silent. He knew without a doubt that he had been right at first glace to be afraid of it. It looked to be a storm to be reckoned with. And he had no doubts that it was caused by the accursed specter of his. Briefly, his eyes sought out his beloved Pearl, and he was somewhat heartened to see her still firmly anchored in the bay, her black sails fluttering slowly in what little wind remained. She really did look like the ghost ship she was rumored to be now that she was without a crew. If she hadn't been there when he had looked up......Jack had doubts about his own grasp on sanity already, but he knew that such a sight as that would have most certainly driven him over the edge. He just hoped she would still be there after the storm had passed. If it passed.
"Jack," a voice whispered to him in the distance. He had not yet trained himself to ignore the voices around him, knowing that the only other being with him was the specter, so his head shot up in recognition. There, coming towards him on the beach, her feet wet and covered with sand, her long dark hair flowing freely in the wind, was Anamaria.
'No,' Jack thought, a horrified look passing across his face. 'No being could be that cruel. To haunt me with such an image.......no, she's not real. Ana's dead, and this is not her. It can't be her. I saw her die.' He shut his eyes tightly against such a wonderful but untrue vision, and placed his hands over his ears so he wouldn't have to listen to her siren-like calls.
"Jack," 'Ana' whispered again. "It's alright you bloody pirate. I'm here now, and by God, no specter's going to get the best of me." Jack felt a hand placed firmly but gently against his shoulder, and he couldn't stop himself from leaning into her touch. God, she even smelled real. She felt exactly like his Ana in every way imaginable, but he knew it wasn't her. He knew this was simply an extension of his torment from the specter, but that didn't stop him from taking even the briefest of comforts in the false human contact. He feared that it would be the last he would have for quite awhile.
"You let me die, you know," the visage of Ana whispered cheerfully into his ear. You left me to die in that cave and now I'm there rotting with everyone else you've failed. Do you know that? You've sent me to hell Jack, I burn because of you. You killed the woman you loved, how does that make you feel? Does it make you feel bad? Does it make you feel guilty? Oh no, that's right. The famous Captain Jack Sparrow can't be made to feel guilt, can he? That's too human an emotion for the likes of him."
Such words surely sent by the devil himself spoken in the tones of his angel nearly sent Jack into another fit of weeping. He didn't want to listen to this illusion's words, but he found himself unable to stop. And he even began to agree with them. Yes, he had killed Ana. He had killed his entire crew. They lay rotting and alone in that godforsaken cave while he sat in the warm sand. He had failed them. He had brought the curse down upon their heads. It was all his fault.
"Listen to me, ye bastard!" 'Ana' slapped him hard across the face, but it was unlike any time he had been slapped before, even by Ana himself. This was full of hatred so strong that he could feel it seething off of her in waves. He fell onto his side, his head spinning with the impact. 'Ana' wasn't done however. She kicked him viciously in the ribs and continued. "You're a worthless, miserable excuse for a man, Jack. You're mother was right to leave ye. Everyone's left ye, isn't that right, Jack? Either that, or ye've gotten them killed. Ever wonder about what happened to your dear friend 'Bootstrap'? He was sent to the bottom of the ocean simply for being your friend." The thing that was not Anamaria laughed derisively. "With friends like you, Jack, who needs enemies? You do your so-called friend's enemy's work for them. You kill your friends, Jack. Ye always have. I can't stand the sight of you. You disgust me." Jack kept his eyes fixed towards the sand beneath him, forcing himself not to listen to the demon that sounded so much like his Anamaria. It even looked like her. Before he could stop himself, he let his eyes wander back to where she stood above him, and he recoiled in horror, the place where she had kicked him ablaze with pain from the sudden movement. "That's right, Jack. Do you like what you see? This is what ye've done to me. This is what ye've done to all your so- called friends,"
'Oh God,' he thought, forcing the bile that had risen up in the back of his throat away. 'Her face, oh God, her face,' The illusion was in a rapid state of decay, rotting skin was a patchwork of green and purple splotches and it hang loosely off of her cheeks, her eyes shrunken in their sockets. She smiled, a horrible jackal-like smile, and he could see that many of her once perfect teeth had fallen out as well. "That's right, Jack. Take a good long look. You did this to me. You and your greed. It was your idea to go after the gold, wasn't it? Your idea to track down this cave and 'take what you want and give nothing back,' is that right? You brought your crew here to die. You brought me here to die. Oh, and guess what? Your remaining friends?" She laughed gleefully. "The only friends you've got left that are still alive? You're bringing them here to die as well. It's only a matter of time. I'll be sure and greet them proper in hell." She kicked him again even harder than the last time, and Jack felt the oh too familiar pain of a few of his ribs breaking. He gasped for air, looking up at where the illusion had stood, but she was gone.
He rolled over on his back, clutching his aching, broken ribs in his hands and stared at the still blue sky, tears running down his cheeks. The tears weren't from the pain, having a broken rib or two hurt like hell, but it was a hell Jack had been unfortunately accustomed to. He knew that if he wrapped the broken ribs tightly and didn't move, they should cause him little trouble. He didn't cry for the pain of the split lip the illusion had given him either, even though the sand that had coated it when he fell stung wretchedly. No, he cried because try as he might, he could not push her words out of his mind. He had killed his friends, and now he was in hell. There was no other explanation for it. No world could ever be this cruel. With that thought, Jack felt his last hold on reality, on sanity, begin to slip.
***
"Is this weather natural, James?" Elizabeth asked with a frown on her face, staring up at the calm sky. "I don't like it. It gives me a bad feeling."
Norrington sighed and cast his eyes to the horizon. "As well it should, Elizabeth. The sea is much too calm. I fear a storm is on its way."
"A storm? What kind of storm?" Will asked, coming to stand by the wheel where Elizabeth and Norrington stood.
"A frightful bad one if I'm judging correctly. Sailors have learned to worry when the sea looks like this. When the sea goes dead calm silent, it's best if you dock somewhere, and soon."
"Dock? But we can't dock! Who knows what's happening to Jack right now!" Will shouted, the worry for his friend plain on his face.
"I understand your worry for Sparrow, Will, but we may have no choice. I don't think the three of us can handle this ship in a storm. And it will do Sparrow no good to get ourselves killed on the way to rescue him, now would it?" Will sighed, but seemed to accept Norrington's words. "Unfortunately, I don't think we're going to be able to dock anyway. At least, not before the storm strikes."
"What do you mean?" Will asked, his brow furrowing.
"Look there," Norrington pointed to the distance where black clouds loomed ever closer to them, huge and threatening. The sea had gone as still as glass, and yet some unfelt wind was pushing the storm seemingly directly towards them at a rapid pace.
"My God," Elizabeth whispered. "*That's* a storm? It's coming right for us!"
Will and Norrington couldn't help but agree with this observation. The storm seemed to be pulled towards them by some invisible string tied to their main mast. And it didn't look as if they would be able to cut it. "Hoist canvas!" Norrington yelled to his 'crew.' "If we don't, the sails will be ripped apart! Hurry!" This was quite a feat to be accomplished what with only Will and Elizabeth being able to help, Norrington had to stay at the wheel and steer the ship, but they somehow managed. Without the sails catching what little wind there was, the Saviour soon came to a dead stop, floating listlessly along in the still too calm sea.
"How much time do you think we have before it hits?" Will asked as calmly as he could. He didn't want to worry Elizabeth any more than necessary, but that didn't seem to be an option.
"Not enough, I fear. And out in the open like this, it will be much worse." Norrington said with a frown, having walked up next to where Will and Elizabeth stood as he was not needed to steer the ship if it wasn't moving. "I have a feeling that the storm headed for us right now is not going to slow down any time soon, and we have absolutely no cover from the elements."
"Do you think Jack will be alright?" Elizabeth asked slowly, her mind cast to their lost Captain.
"My dear Elizabeth, I think we're going to have to worry about ourselves first. I understand your worry for Captain Sparrow, but we must look to our own survival before we can worry about his. Anyway, I'm sure he'll be fine—" Norrington was cut off by a loud gasp from Will. "Will? What is it? What's wrong? Are you injured?"
"Oh God, no, it's not me. It's, it's Jack. We need to get to him. We need to get to him now. Or else I think he'll be lost to us," Will said with a shudder.
"What do you mean, 'lost'? Lost how?" Norrington asked him, his brow furrowing. The young man before him had seemed to loose all color the instant he gasped, and now looked as if he was about to be knocked over by the first light breeze that came along.
"I'm not exactly sure. But he needs our help. And I don't know where any of this knowledge is coming from either, so don't bother asking," After waiting a moment to let his words sink in, Will continued in a soft, horrified voice. "I think he may be going mad."
A quip about how Sparrow had always seemed a bit mad to him was on the tip of Norrington's tongue before he saw the look of utter seriousness and fear pass Will's face. After a moment's thought, he found he wasn't that surprised. If what Will had said about the death of the man's crew was true, that in itself would be enough to drive any man to the brink of madness and beyond. But there was something else, something that he himself felt in the air. Something sinister behind this whole ordeal. He couldn't explain this feeling any more than Will could explain his intuitions, but he felt it, all the same. "We'll do all we can to reach him as soon as possible, Will. On that, you have my word."
Will didn't seem to take any real comfort in his words, so Elizabeth stepped in, laying a hand gently on her fiancé's shoulder. "Jack will be alright, Will. He's faced many more perilous dangers than this, I'm sure. I know, because I've read about them. Even if his stories about his escape from the island were untrue, I'm sure there's some truth at least in the rest of them. And he's Captain Jack Sparrow, remember? If anyone is going to come out of this on top, it'll be him. You'll see," she said with a smile, it was small, but it was unforced.
Will wanted to take heart in Elizabeth's words, but he couldn't shake the cold feeling that filled him now at every thought of his friend. 'We're coming, Jack. Just hold on a little while longer. We're coming,' he vowed silently to himself, hoping somehow the message would reach his friend. He dreaded what they would find if it did not.
***
"I'm in hell, this is hell, I'm in hell, this is hell, I'm in hell, this is hell," this horrid manta could be heard passing Captain Jack Sparrow's slightly parted lips. His face was blank, his eyes staring in the direction that "Ana" had gone. He sat on the sand, gently rocking back and forth, not caring that his broken ribs were screaming at him, not caring about anything at all really. He was about to give into the pain and mercifully fall into unconsciousness when the specter spoke up cheerfully,
'Aww, it looks like poor Jack's been broken. Whatever will his friends do now to find that you've reverted into a drooling madman?'
Something in this question gave a part of Jack's mind pause. His friends.......he remembered his friends. Will, Elizabeth. The image of a hundred other lost friends passed through his near-shattered mind in a heartbeat, causing Jack to shut his eyes tight and groan aloud in pain. "My friends," he spit out through clenched teeth slowly, "are coming for me. And when they get here, you won't matter." Jack was gaining strength and speed to his speech, and he sped on, "You're just a specter; a curse. And I've dealt with curses before. I've beaten curses before, and I will beat you. You're nothing. You're a bleedin' gnat in my ear and nothing more."
'Well now,' the voice said, with an air of amusement. 'That was empowered. Do you feel better now? I sure hope you do, because as much of a joy it is for me to see you in a state of utter madness, I'm not quite through with you yet. And as for the line about the gnat in your ear; that was good. I liked that,' A sudden loud roar all around him filled his ears, sending him screaming to his knees, his hands clutched to his head, praying for the noise to stop. When it finally did, Jack nearly sobbed in relief. 'How was that? Was that gnat-like enough for you, Sparrow?' the voice asked coldly.
"You won't beat me," Jack whispered firmly one last time before his battered and abused body finally decided that it had had enough, and succumbed to the darkness that waited for him.
TBC
A/N: Me: Hello, my name is Merrie, and I'm evil. Group: Hello Merrie. Me: I torture Jack for my own amusement and pleasure. *gasps are heard among the group* Group Leader: Admitting this is the first step towards recovery, Merrie. Congratulations. Me: Yea. Group Leader: But remember, it's a long road to recovery, you'll not cured tomorrow. Or next chapter, or the chapter after that, or the one after that.......but someday.