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 and to all of you who've reviewed. Thanks!!!!
Rating: This story is rated PG-13 for violence language, and pure undiluted angst.
Chapter 7: Storms: Physical and Mental
To say they were in for hell was an understatement of monumental proportions. The storm that bore down on the three of them was beyond hell. Norrington didn't know what it was, but just looking at him sent shivers down his spine. There was something unnatural about it, and for a moment he sincerely doubted that any of them would make it out of it alive. He knew by the looks of that they wouldn't be able to sail under the force of the wind, so he yelled out to his 'crew', "Drop anchor!"
Once that was accomplished, with the Saviour firmly anchored to the bottom of the ocean, Norrington left the helm and went down to the deck to meet Elizabeth and Will.
"Why did we drop anchor, James?" Elizabeth asked, raising a hand to wipe a stray curl out her eyes so she could look at Norrington directly.
"It's the only option we have right now, Elizabeth. The wind would tear us to pieces and blow us off course to God knows where. We have to make our stand here and hope that the ship makes it out of the storm in one piece."
"And that we make it out in one piece too, Norrington," Will said. He then cast his eyes to the deck. "I'm sorry for getting you into this. If we all get sent to Davy Jones', it'll be my fault."
"Don't speak like that, Will. You didn't get us into this, Sparrow did. And don't think that I blame him for this either. No man deserves to be left alone if what you said happened to him is true, even a pirate. You're a good man, Will. I know that you wouldn't put anyone in harm's way intentionally, not unless there was no other choice."
"No, I wouldn't," Will whispered. "But that won't matter if we all end up at the bottom of the ocean. We'll be dead, and Lord only knows what will happen to Jack then."
"I don't care what you two bloody say!" Elizabeth suddenly shouted, causing the two men to gape at her in shock. "Listen to yourselves! It sounds as if you're giving up already! We're not lost yet, and we're certainly not dead yet! Storms have been plaguing sailors since they've been on the sea. This is just another storm, and we're just another group of sailors that will beat it back. And don't you go worrying about Captain Jack Sparrow, either! He can look after himself, savvy?" At the mention of Jack's preferred word in Elizabeth's more refined tone of voice, the mood lightened on the deck, and all of them smiled.
"We could sure use his talents now," Will said, a look of regret crossing his face. "You should have seen how he handled the ship in a storm. I've never seen anything more courageous. Or more insane," he said, a smile crossing his face.
"When did you see how he handled a ship in a storm? You aren't talking about the storm we encountered chasing after you during the whole cursed gold incident, are you? Sparrow sailed through it? Good Lord, I had my suspicions that the man was mad, but that only confirms them. Have you any idea how difficult it is to sail through a storm like that? How risky?" Norrington asked, looking directly at Will.
Will only smiled. "Yes I do know how risky and dangerous it is, James. But I also know that Jack managed to bring us out of it in one piece with little trouble."
Norrington shook his head and laughed, "I must say, if your Captain Sparrow keeps surprising and impressing me like this he might just change my entire opinion of pirates in general."
The three of them laughed at that a bit before the reality of their situation came crashing back to them. The storm would not be stopped by laughter, and it didn't matter how good Jack was at sailing through storms because he wasn't there to help them. No one was there to help. They were on their own, alone and naked before the elements.
***
Reality came back to Jack in a blaze of pain and fire, most of it emanating from his bruised and broken ribs. He knew he had to do something about them, and soon.
Jack gritted his teeth viciously as he managed to untie the long sash around his waist and retie it around his broken ribs as tight as he could manage without passing out from the pain. It wasn't the best of solutions, but it was the only one he had available to him right now. He had had to do something about them or there was a risk of becoming even more injured. Now all he had to do was lie still for a bit and maybe the pain would go away.
'Poor pathetic Jack. Just look at yourself. Why do you even bother living? Just give up and die,' "Anamaria's" voice called out to him mockingly. He didn't bother to turn his head in her direction. He was tired of listening to something he knew wasn't his love. He was so very tired of it all.
'I think you've had enough of her for now, haven't you Jack?' the voice called out almost kindly. As if it was actually concerned for his wellbeing. Jack knew this wasn't true. 'Of course I'm concerned for your wellbeing, Jack. I want you alive and conscious so you're able to see your friends die at your hand. Oh, sorry, I'm giving the ending away now.' The voice said, actually sounding embarrassed.
"What do you mean, 'at my hand?' I'd rather die than hurt Will or Elizabeth." Jack groaned out between his still clenched teeth.
'Well I supposed since I went and spoiled if for you I might as well tell you my plan. You've seen what I can do to you, Jack? The pain I can inflict? The visions I can send?' A beautiful image of Anamaria appeared at his side just then, running her hand lightly over one of his weathered cheeks. And by God, it felt as real as the sand beneath his head. 'And I can show you other visions as well,'
"Jack! We're here to rescue you! My God, what's happened to you? Where is the rest of you crew? No, it doesn't matter. We'll get you to safety on the ship and then we'll worry about them." The specter that was not Will turned to the equally unreal Elizabeth. "Help me with him, will you Liz?"
"Will" laid his rough blacksmith's hands on Jack's shoulders and Jack nearly sobbed in a mixture of horror and relief. It felt so real. To see Will's smiling face mere inches above him, his hair coming loose from its bindings and framing his face like a halo, it made him want to weep.
And Elizabeth, she was as beautiful as the first time he saw her, her face glowing in the warm Caribbean sunlight as she smiled down at him. Jack reached out a dirtied and bloody hand to grasp Will's own, but the instant their fingers were about to touch, the images of Will and Elizabeth vanished as if they had never been there, not even leaving footprints in the sand where they had been standing. They had seemed so real. They had felt so real. But they were as insubstantial as the image of Ana the specter had sent to haunt him.
"Damn you, for sending such an image to me ye cursed bastard ghost," Jack spit out, feeling tears running down his cheeks slowly.
'Oh, but I haven't even showed you the best part yet, Jack,' the voice taunted. Before Jack could ask the voice what it meant by that, he felt a presence wash over him, wash *into* him, and he screamed in pain and shock before he could stop himself. The specter had entered his body!
He felt one of his arms rising, his hand waving in front of his face, and knew that he was no longer in control of his own body. The specter was riding him like a parasite, controlling his every action, and he was helpless to stop it. He couldn't even open his own mouth to say anything to the specter. All he could do was to sit back in a darkened corner of his mind and watch as it examined "its" new body. One thing however, he felt a curious burning sensation and the back of his head and at his chest. Jack didn't know what this sensation was, but he didn't like it.
Finally, the specter gave up its control over Jack's body, and he felt as if his spine was being ripped out from his back as it left. Something warm coated his face, and Jack raised one his own hands again to touch it. His eyes, nose and mouth had started bleeding upon the specter's exit. He closed his eyes against the pain of the bleeding, and in doing so noticed neither his broken ribs nor his head injury were causing him any trouble.
'You like that? I decided to fix you up a bit while I was in there. I couldn't have you dying of infection and blood loss before I was done with you, now could I?' the voice asked with a laugh.
"What did you do to me?" Jack whispered, laying his hands on his chest. "My ribs, they're healed. What are you?"
'Tsk, tsk Jack. I can't tell you that. You would never look at me the same. And as for the healing trick? It's within my power. As is much more, just wait and see. I'll leave you alone for a while to revel in your regained health, but I'll never be very far away. Keep that in mind." And with that, the specter left Jack alone with his thoughts.
***
The storm raged against their little boat, the rain plastering their clothes to their bodies, the wind tearing their hair into knots. Norrington was glad he had left his wig at home before this madness had started for he would have surely lost it to the wind now.
"We're not going to make it, are we?" Will asked as quietly as he could over the roar of the wind and waves, he was still nearly shouting in Norrington's ear.
Norrington took a long look at the sky above him and wiped his jet-black and dripping hair out of his face. "No, I don't think we are. I'm sorry Will," he said somberly. Just as he said this, they turned to hear a low cracking noise that sounded like their deaths. "It's the main mast! It's going down!" Norrington shouted.
"Elizabeth is down there!" Will shouted back to him, and the two men exchanged a look of horror. Just as this look was being exchanged, a bloodcurdling scream was heard as clearly as if it come from right behind them. Norrington and Will immediately ran down to the deck as fast as they could, neither one of them caring that the wheel was now left unattended.
"Elizabeth! Elizabeth!" Norrington shouted, the two men rushing as carefully and as quickly as they could to the middle of the deck while keeping a firm hold on the life lines. Elizabeth looked to be trapped underneath the fallen main mast, and she wasn't moving.
"Oh God, no, she has to be alright. This can't be happening. Not now," Will mumbled to himself, crouching down at her side. "Elizabeth? Talk to me, please. Let me know you're alright," he pleaded with her still form.
Together the two of them managed to lift the broken mast off of Elizabeth, but she still didn't answer Will's pleas. Will caressed one of her cheeks lightly, pushing a stray curl off of her nose. "Please be alright," he whispered.
"Will?" Norrington asked, a tone of worry in his voice. Will didn't pay any attention however, he was too intent on making sure Elizabeth was alright. "Will!" Norrington's voice came again, and he looked up at him, irritation written all over his face. Norrington wasn't looking at him however, he was looking out to sea, and his face had gone as white as the wig he was so fond of wearing. Will followed his gaze and his eyes widened in horror.
Off the starboard side, a tidal wave was forming. The biggest tidal wave either man had ever seen in their lives. It was easily twice as tall as the main mast had been before it had fallen. "Holy Mary, mother of God," Norrington whispered before turning to Will. "Grab Elizabeth and the life lines and don't let go! No matter what, don't let go!" And with that, the wave crashed down upon them.
***
Jack had kept his word. He had gone back into the cave that now housed all his nightmares and began clearing the rocks and dirt off his dead crew member's bodies so he could move them out to the beach and onto the Pearl.
He treated each one with the same dignity and respect, even if he hadn't known the crew member very well. At least, he had tried to. He found it hard to be impartial when it came to Anamaria and Gibbs. Anamaria, still looking lovely as ever laid out on the ground like she was sleeping, and Gibbs, the smile still on his face and his hand still full of gold. It brought a smile to Jack's face to see his friends so at peace. To be saved from the hell he currently found himself in.
Once he had moved as many crew members out onto the beach as he could before collapsing to the ground in exhaustion; it was nearly all of them, he leaned against the cave wall and breathed heavily. But he couldn't stop. He wouldn't stop until they were all safely aboard the Pearl. With this new determination, he moved the last of his crew out onto the beach, where he stood and looked over the rows of bodies.
That he should lose 14 crew members, all of them killed in one day; it was unheard of. It was monstrous. Jack crouched down on the sand and looked over the slack faces of his men with a heavy heart. He would not cry for them any longer, he had promised Ana that he would shed no tears over her body, and excluding his initial reaction he intended to keep that promise. He was a man of his word.
Looking up to the sky, his forehead furrowed in confusion. The storm that had seemed to imminent now seemed to be nowhere in sight. The bright blue Caribbean sky beamed down at him as if there never had been a storm and never would be again.
'You're wondering where the storm went?' the specter asked him. Jack sighed, but knew he couldn't be rid of it so he merely nodded, taking the bait. 'It's served its purpose. Your friend's ship has been destroyed,' the specter laughed at this.
"You lie," Jack said, his eyes narrowing in anger. "You're just trying to make me give up the hope of them coming for me when you and I both know that's not true," Jack seethed. "I'm not listening to your lies any longer."
'Oh but they're not lies, Jack. Will and Elizabeth's ship was destroyed in the storm. But they weren't the only ones aboard, there was also another. Someone named Norrington. I believe you know him as well,'
Jack let out a long laugh at this, "Ok, now I know you're lying to me. There's no way in hell bloody Commodore Norrington would join Will and Elizabeth on a quest to rescue me. You'd better get your facts straight before you attempt lying to me ye bastard,"
'Oh it's the truth, I assure you Jack. Would you like to see them?' Before Jack could answer one way or another, he felt the specter enter his body once more, this time even more painful than the last. Suddenly the image of Will, Elizabeth and yes, even bloody Commodore Norrington assaulted his eyes. He didn't know how he was seeing them, but he knew it was real. The three of them were struggling to keep their heads above water in a raging sea. But Elizabeth, what was wrong with Elizabeth?
Before he could get a better look at her, the vision ended as the specter pulled violently out of Jack's body, causing him to cry out in pain. Once more he felt his own hot blood coating his face and he knew he must look a fright. He raised a hand to wipe at his face and noticed something odd on his fingers.
Now, he knew he wasn't the best of examples when it came to cleanliness. He had once tried to keep his hands free of dirt and grime, but it was no use. A life at sea was simply not a very clean life. But what covered his left hand now he knew wasn't dirt. But what was it? Wiping what dirt he could off of it, he noticed that the back of his hand and his two middle fingers seemed to be covered in something black that would not come off no matter how hard he tried. No, it seemed to be a part of his skin, almost like the tattoos he was covered in. The thing was though, a tattoo wasn't the most pleasant of experiences in the world, and he certainly would have noticed getting a new one on his hand. Wouldn't he?
The tattoo, for he had no other name for it, completely covered the middle two fingers of his left hand in black from top to bottom. It almost looked as if he were wearing a glove made for only those two fingers. As for the rest of his hand, he had been to the British Isles, he had seen the way the Celtic people made themselves up before a battle. It looked like that; a series of both complicated and delicate knots that formed to the contours of his hand. The thing that concerned him most about it however was that the lines seemed to be creeping up his arm, making new knots as they went.
'Ah, I see you've discovered my little, 'creation' as it were,' the specter said, a smirk evident in its voice.
"What is this?" Jack shouted, waving his left arm about.
'Let's just call it a little, 'souvenir' from the time I spend inside of you, Jack,' the voice said good-naturedly. 'And it's not all that bad looking, really. And it's not like you don't have other tattoos. This one's just a little bit more.......special.'
"Why does my skin crawl when ye say that ye bleedin' bastard?" Jack seethed, not able to take his mind off of his hand.
'Oh perhaps because you're not a total idiot, as much as you might act like it sometimes,' the voice mocked. 'But one thing's for sure. You most certainly are alone now, Jack. All alone with me,'
Jack didn't want to believe it, but the smallest smidgen of doubt crept into his mind. 'What if it was telling the truth? What if Will and Elizabeth were dead? And bloody Commodore Norrington, can't forget about him, as farfetched as that sounded. What would he do then?' Jack found the thought to horrible to even consider.
TBC
A/N: I've stopped going to my "So you're evil, what can we do about it?" support group as some of you may have noticed. And things aren't looking any brighter in the coming chapters either, ladies and gentlemen. Just know this, this story is already more 50 pages long, and I feel no closer to the end than I was 40 pages ago. So not all is lost.
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 and to all of you who've reviewed. Thanks!!!!
Rating: This story is rated PG-13 for violence language, and pure undiluted angst.
Chapter 7: Storms: Physical and Mental
To say they were in for hell was an understatement of monumental proportions. The storm that bore down on the three of them was beyond hell. Norrington didn't know what it was, but just looking at him sent shivers down his spine. There was something unnatural about it, and for a moment he sincerely doubted that any of them would make it out of it alive. He knew by the looks of that they wouldn't be able to sail under the force of the wind, so he yelled out to his 'crew', "Drop anchor!"
Once that was accomplished, with the Saviour firmly anchored to the bottom of the ocean, Norrington left the helm and went down to the deck to meet Elizabeth and Will.
"Why did we drop anchor, James?" Elizabeth asked, raising a hand to wipe a stray curl out her eyes so she could look at Norrington directly.
"It's the only option we have right now, Elizabeth. The wind would tear us to pieces and blow us off course to God knows where. We have to make our stand here and hope that the ship makes it out of the storm in one piece."
"And that we make it out in one piece too, Norrington," Will said. He then cast his eyes to the deck. "I'm sorry for getting you into this. If we all get sent to Davy Jones', it'll be my fault."
"Don't speak like that, Will. You didn't get us into this, Sparrow did. And don't think that I blame him for this either. No man deserves to be left alone if what you said happened to him is true, even a pirate. You're a good man, Will. I know that you wouldn't put anyone in harm's way intentionally, not unless there was no other choice."
"No, I wouldn't," Will whispered. "But that won't matter if we all end up at the bottom of the ocean. We'll be dead, and Lord only knows what will happen to Jack then."
"I don't care what you two bloody say!" Elizabeth suddenly shouted, causing the two men to gape at her in shock. "Listen to yourselves! It sounds as if you're giving up already! We're not lost yet, and we're certainly not dead yet! Storms have been plaguing sailors since they've been on the sea. This is just another storm, and we're just another group of sailors that will beat it back. And don't you go worrying about Captain Jack Sparrow, either! He can look after himself, savvy?" At the mention of Jack's preferred word in Elizabeth's more refined tone of voice, the mood lightened on the deck, and all of them smiled.
"We could sure use his talents now," Will said, a look of regret crossing his face. "You should have seen how he handled the ship in a storm. I've never seen anything more courageous. Or more insane," he said, a smile crossing his face.
"When did you see how he handled a ship in a storm? You aren't talking about the storm we encountered chasing after you during the whole cursed gold incident, are you? Sparrow sailed through it? Good Lord, I had my suspicions that the man was mad, but that only confirms them. Have you any idea how difficult it is to sail through a storm like that? How risky?" Norrington asked, looking directly at Will.
Will only smiled. "Yes I do know how risky and dangerous it is, James. But I also know that Jack managed to bring us out of it in one piece with little trouble."
Norrington shook his head and laughed, "I must say, if your Captain Sparrow keeps surprising and impressing me like this he might just change my entire opinion of pirates in general."
The three of them laughed at that a bit before the reality of their situation came crashing back to them. The storm would not be stopped by laughter, and it didn't matter how good Jack was at sailing through storms because he wasn't there to help them. No one was there to help. They were on their own, alone and naked before the elements.
***
Reality came back to Jack in a blaze of pain and fire, most of it emanating from his bruised and broken ribs. He knew he had to do something about them, and soon.
Jack gritted his teeth viciously as he managed to untie the long sash around his waist and retie it around his broken ribs as tight as he could manage without passing out from the pain. It wasn't the best of solutions, but it was the only one he had available to him right now. He had had to do something about them or there was a risk of becoming even more injured. Now all he had to do was lie still for a bit and maybe the pain would go away.
'Poor pathetic Jack. Just look at yourself. Why do you even bother living? Just give up and die,' "Anamaria's" voice called out to him mockingly. He didn't bother to turn his head in her direction. He was tired of listening to something he knew wasn't his love. He was so very tired of it all.
'I think you've had enough of her for now, haven't you Jack?' the voice called out almost kindly. As if it was actually concerned for his wellbeing. Jack knew this wasn't true. 'Of course I'm concerned for your wellbeing, Jack. I want you alive and conscious so you're able to see your friends die at your hand. Oh, sorry, I'm giving the ending away now.' The voice said, actually sounding embarrassed.
"What do you mean, 'at my hand?' I'd rather die than hurt Will or Elizabeth." Jack groaned out between his still clenched teeth.
'Well I supposed since I went and spoiled if for you I might as well tell you my plan. You've seen what I can do to you, Jack? The pain I can inflict? The visions I can send?' A beautiful image of Anamaria appeared at his side just then, running her hand lightly over one of his weathered cheeks. And by God, it felt as real as the sand beneath his head. 'And I can show you other visions as well,'
"Jack! We're here to rescue you! My God, what's happened to you? Where is the rest of you crew? No, it doesn't matter. We'll get you to safety on the ship and then we'll worry about them." The specter that was not Will turned to the equally unreal Elizabeth. "Help me with him, will you Liz?"
"Will" laid his rough blacksmith's hands on Jack's shoulders and Jack nearly sobbed in a mixture of horror and relief. It felt so real. To see Will's smiling face mere inches above him, his hair coming loose from its bindings and framing his face like a halo, it made him want to weep.
And Elizabeth, she was as beautiful as the first time he saw her, her face glowing in the warm Caribbean sunlight as she smiled down at him. Jack reached out a dirtied and bloody hand to grasp Will's own, but the instant their fingers were about to touch, the images of Will and Elizabeth vanished as if they had never been there, not even leaving footprints in the sand where they had been standing. They had seemed so real. They had felt so real. But they were as insubstantial as the image of Ana the specter had sent to haunt him.
"Damn you, for sending such an image to me ye cursed bastard ghost," Jack spit out, feeling tears running down his cheeks slowly.
'Oh, but I haven't even showed you the best part yet, Jack,' the voice taunted. Before Jack could ask the voice what it meant by that, he felt a presence wash over him, wash *into* him, and he screamed in pain and shock before he could stop himself. The specter had entered his body!
He felt one of his arms rising, his hand waving in front of his face, and knew that he was no longer in control of his own body. The specter was riding him like a parasite, controlling his every action, and he was helpless to stop it. He couldn't even open his own mouth to say anything to the specter. All he could do was to sit back in a darkened corner of his mind and watch as it examined "its" new body. One thing however, he felt a curious burning sensation and the back of his head and at his chest. Jack didn't know what this sensation was, but he didn't like it.
Finally, the specter gave up its control over Jack's body, and he felt as if his spine was being ripped out from his back as it left. Something warm coated his face, and Jack raised one his own hands again to touch it. His eyes, nose and mouth had started bleeding upon the specter's exit. He closed his eyes against the pain of the bleeding, and in doing so noticed neither his broken ribs nor his head injury were causing him any trouble.
'You like that? I decided to fix you up a bit while I was in there. I couldn't have you dying of infection and blood loss before I was done with you, now could I?' the voice asked with a laugh.
"What did you do to me?" Jack whispered, laying his hands on his chest. "My ribs, they're healed. What are you?"
'Tsk, tsk Jack. I can't tell you that. You would never look at me the same. And as for the healing trick? It's within my power. As is much more, just wait and see. I'll leave you alone for a while to revel in your regained health, but I'll never be very far away. Keep that in mind." And with that, the specter left Jack alone with his thoughts.
***
The storm raged against their little boat, the rain plastering their clothes to their bodies, the wind tearing their hair into knots. Norrington was glad he had left his wig at home before this madness had started for he would have surely lost it to the wind now.
"We're not going to make it, are we?" Will asked as quietly as he could over the roar of the wind and waves, he was still nearly shouting in Norrington's ear.
Norrington took a long look at the sky above him and wiped his jet-black and dripping hair out of his face. "No, I don't think we are. I'm sorry Will," he said somberly. Just as he said this, they turned to hear a low cracking noise that sounded like their deaths. "It's the main mast! It's going down!" Norrington shouted.
"Elizabeth is down there!" Will shouted back to him, and the two men exchanged a look of horror. Just as this look was being exchanged, a bloodcurdling scream was heard as clearly as if it come from right behind them. Norrington and Will immediately ran down to the deck as fast as they could, neither one of them caring that the wheel was now left unattended.
"Elizabeth! Elizabeth!" Norrington shouted, the two men rushing as carefully and as quickly as they could to the middle of the deck while keeping a firm hold on the life lines. Elizabeth looked to be trapped underneath the fallen main mast, and she wasn't moving.
"Oh God, no, she has to be alright. This can't be happening. Not now," Will mumbled to himself, crouching down at her side. "Elizabeth? Talk to me, please. Let me know you're alright," he pleaded with her still form.
Together the two of them managed to lift the broken mast off of Elizabeth, but she still didn't answer Will's pleas. Will caressed one of her cheeks lightly, pushing a stray curl off of her nose. "Please be alright," he whispered.
"Will?" Norrington asked, a tone of worry in his voice. Will didn't pay any attention however, he was too intent on making sure Elizabeth was alright. "Will!" Norrington's voice came again, and he looked up at him, irritation written all over his face. Norrington wasn't looking at him however, he was looking out to sea, and his face had gone as white as the wig he was so fond of wearing. Will followed his gaze and his eyes widened in horror.
Off the starboard side, a tidal wave was forming. The biggest tidal wave either man had ever seen in their lives. It was easily twice as tall as the main mast had been before it had fallen. "Holy Mary, mother of God," Norrington whispered before turning to Will. "Grab Elizabeth and the life lines and don't let go! No matter what, don't let go!" And with that, the wave crashed down upon them.
***
Jack had kept his word. He had gone back into the cave that now housed all his nightmares and began clearing the rocks and dirt off his dead crew member's bodies so he could move them out to the beach and onto the Pearl.
He treated each one with the same dignity and respect, even if he hadn't known the crew member very well. At least, he had tried to. He found it hard to be impartial when it came to Anamaria and Gibbs. Anamaria, still looking lovely as ever laid out on the ground like she was sleeping, and Gibbs, the smile still on his face and his hand still full of gold. It brought a smile to Jack's face to see his friends so at peace. To be saved from the hell he currently found himself in.
Once he had moved as many crew members out onto the beach as he could before collapsing to the ground in exhaustion; it was nearly all of them, he leaned against the cave wall and breathed heavily. But he couldn't stop. He wouldn't stop until they were all safely aboard the Pearl. With this new determination, he moved the last of his crew out onto the beach, where he stood and looked over the rows of bodies.
That he should lose 14 crew members, all of them killed in one day; it was unheard of. It was monstrous. Jack crouched down on the sand and looked over the slack faces of his men with a heavy heart. He would not cry for them any longer, he had promised Ana that he would shed no tears over her body, and excluding his initial reaction he intended to keep that promise. He was a man of his word.
Looking up to the sky, his forehead furrowed in confusion. The storm that had seemed to imminent now seemed to be nowhere in sight. The bright blue Caribbean sky beamed down at him as if there never had been a storm and never would be again.
'You're wondering where the storm went?' the specter asked him. Jack sighed, but knew he couldn't be rid of it so he merely nodded, taking the bait. 'It's served its purpose. Your friend's ship has been destroyed,' the specter laughed at this.
"You lie," Jack said, his eyes narrowing in anger. "You're just trying to make me give up the hope of them coming for me when you and I both know that's not true," Jack seethed. "I'm not listening to your lies any longer."
'Oh but they're not lies, Jack. Will and Elizabeth's ship was destroyed in the storm. But they weren't the only ones aboard, there was also another. Someone named Norrington. I believe you know him as well,'
Jack let out a long laugh at this, "Ok, now I know you're lying to me. There's no way in hell bloody Commodore Norrington would join Will and Elizabeth on a quest to rescue me. You'd better get your facts straight before you attempt lying to me ye bastard,"
'Oh it's the truth, I assure you Jack. Would you like to see them?' Before Jack could answer one way or another, he felt the specter enter his body once more, this time even more painful than the last. Suddenly the image of Will, Elizabeth and yes, even bloody Commodore Norrington assaulted his eyes. He didn't know how he was seeing them, but he knew it was real. The three of them were struggling to keep their heads above water in a raging sea. But Elizabeth, what was wrong with Elizabeth?
Before he could get a better look at her, the vision ended as the specter pulled violently out of Jack's body, causing him to cry out in pain. Once more he felt his own hot blood coating his face and he knew he must look a fright. He raised a hand to wipe at his face and noticed something odd on his fingers.
Now, he knew he wasn't the best of examples when it came to cleanliness. He had once tried to keep his hands free of dirt and grime, but it was no use. A life at sea was simply not a very clean life. But what covered his left hand now he knew wasn't dirt. But what was it? Wiping what dirt he could off of it, he noticed that the back of his hand and his two middle fingers seemed to be covered in something black that would not come off no matter how hard he tried. No, it seemed to be a part of his skin, almost like the tattoos he was covered in. The thing was though, a tattoo wasn't the most pleasant of experiences in the world, and he certainly would have noticed getting a new one on his hand. Wouldn't he?
The tattoo, for he had no other name for it, completely covered the middle two fingers of his left hand in black from top to bottom. It almost looked as if he were wearing a glove made for only those two fingers. As for the rest of his hand, he had been to the British Isles, he had seen the way the Celtic people made themselves up before a battle. It looked like that; a series of both complicated and delicate knots that formed to the contours of his hand. The thing that concerned him most about it however was that the lines seemed to be creeping up his arm, making new knots as they went.
'Ah, I see you've discovered my little, 'creation' as it were,' the specter said, a smirk evident in its voice.
"What is this?" Jack shouted, waving his left arm about.
'Let's just call it a little, 'souvenir' from the time I spend inside of you, Jack,' the voice said good-naturedly. 'And it's not all that bad looking, really. And it's not like you don't have other tattoos. This one's just a little bit more.......special.'
"Why does my skin crawl when ye say that ye bleedin' bastard?" Jack seethed, not able to take his mind off of his hand.
'Oh perhaps because you're not a total idiot, as much as you might act like it sometimes,' the voice mocked. 'But one thing's for sure. You most certainly are alone now, Jack. All alone with me,'
Jack didn't want to believe it, but the smallest smidgen of doubt crept into his mind. 'What if it was telling the truth? What if Will and Elizabeth were dead? And bloody Commodore Norrington, can't forget about him, as farfetched as that sounded. What would he do then?' Jack found the thought to horrible to even consider.
TBC
A/N: I've stopped going to my "So you're evil, what can we do about it?" support group as some of you may have noticed. And things aren't looking any brighter in the coming chapters either, ladies and gentlemen. Just know this, this story is already more 50 pages long, and I feel no closer to the end than I was 40 pages ago. So not all is lost.