One More Breath
Chapter 3

The thought just occurred to Annamaria but she didn't know how well that would go over with the Captain. The last time she even mentioned such a thing he'd given her a look that would have had lesser men, or women, running for cover.

"What's wrong, Ana?" Jack asked noticing the worry that lined her face. She fretted over things too much the small worry lines on her forehead and eyes attested to that.

"I'm just having a thought here." Ana started wondering how best to approach the subject.

"Go on…" he tipped his head to one side, what had her so wound up? Usually she would come out and say it, more often than not what she had to say wasn't asked for but rather told with a threatening glare or pointed finger. This time she looked hesitant and unsure, traits which together put him on edge.

"What would you say to going back to Cortes' treasure and getting one, only one mind you, coin from the case?"

"No. No, no, no." Jack shook his head adamantly. "We aren't going back to that godforsaken place no matter if you have to shoot me again. Why not drop me off on that island I was marooned on. Twice." He added as an after thought.

"But, Jack…"

"Don't but Jack me." He interrupted, "We are not catching sight of that island, stepping foot inside, or even seeing the tops of the trees, savvy?"

"Damn it, the gold would keep you alive until we can get the bullet out. Nay! The gold, didn't you say that it turned you to bone in the moonlight? Well, the bullet would fall out then wouldn't it?"

"No, just bone means no skin. No skin equals no wound."

"Exactly!" she said pleased he'd just proven her point.

"You're not listening." He said patiently, "Without the skin over me chest the bullet's not there which means that there is no lead piece in me, follow? When I jump back out o'the moonlight it's back again, same as before."

"Oh." She said disappointedly.

"Yes, big oh." He crossed his arms, "It was a good idea though…"

"Is. Is a good idea." She persisted, "You'd still be alive, wouldn't you?"

"No. I'd be dead."

"You know what I mean."

"Ah yes, but do you mean what you say?" Jack grinned lazily not expecting that she'd follow so quickly.

"I mean what I say, and say what I mean, but do you know what you say and what I mean?" she raised an eyebrow in challenge.

"What I mean and what you say are two different things entirely. When you say alive you mean dead, when I say dead I mean alive. Therefore I'd be the living dead, wouldn't you agree?" he had almost forgotten about what led to this conversation in the first place, he should be injured more often if Ana would have such talks with him again.

"So you agree then?"

"What? No! Whatever gave you that idea." Bloody woman just wouldn't give up.

"Well you were agreeing with me well enough." She retorted.

"Just like a woman to say something and make the man think it was his idea." He sighed. "No cave, you promise?"

"I don't see why…"

"Very well, you want to know the truth? What none of the cursed pirates ever spoke word of was that the gold didn't just make one immortal. I know you've heard of the 'we can't feel, taste, touch, live' part of the tale. What no one makes mention of is the fact that whenever moonlight turns us over, the screams of all the people before, the people whose blood has been shed by the ones under the curse, can be heard echoing in the mind." He took a deep breath remembering. "Mayhap Barbossa and his crew of miscreants liked that, knowing that their victims screams could be brought forth every rising of the moon, but I'd really like to avoid that."

"You didn't kill anyone when under the curse." Ana objected.

"Barbossa." Jack half-snarled the name hating to even think it. "And a few of the other cursed pirates."

"So it's still only, what three voices?" she insisted, "It's going to keep you alive!"

"Three voices." Jack repeated incredulous she was still pushing the matter, "I'm not talking about the 'you took me life' 'you must die' wailing ghost chant. I mean the last scream that the dead give out in the spirit land. The one that will echo in my head for as long as I'm in the light of the moon."

"Can we at least save it as a last resort?"

"The very last." He warned, "If I'm on point of death, last. Not a second before, you understand Ana?"

"Very well." She rolled her eyes, "This doctor in Port Royale had better be good."

"He will be, otherwise he'll have your wrath to face no doubt."

"Well of course, we shouldn't have heard word of him otherwise." She winked an eye, "False advertising that is, and I'll see him hung from the gibbet if he's not."

"Captain! Port's in sight!" Gibbs announced from the doorway.

"Very good. Pull'er round to the reefs, hide'er well, mate. If the Navy gets my ship more'n just the doctor'll hang."

"You heard t'Captain's orders! Make ready to reef, all on deck!" Gibbs called as he closed the door behind him.

So far as the rest of the crew understood, Jack was recovering from a bullet wound and would be right as rain come docking time. He wouldn't allow Gibbs, Ana, or Marton to tell them otherwise. He was their Captain and as such he would hold their respect and unflagging loyalty he'd always gotten from them. He knew that they would worry if they found out and he didn't want that to happen. Pride, his sense of honor, whatever it was would have him walking, by himself, down the gangplank of 'the Pearl' and onto the awaiting boat that would take them to shore.

Annamaria knew better than to say anything, only Marton had objected to the strain it would put upon Jack not to lay down or at least be assisted onto one of the boats. Try telling that to the Captain though, one look as Jack told him no one would be carrying him from 'the Pearl' when air stirred in his lungs was enough to silence Marton, at least for the time being.

Jack shifted slightly on the bed and grit his teeth at the sharp burst of pain that came from his chest. The bullet was still there and a constant reminder to him of just how mortal he was. Every blasted time he tried to move the piece of lead would bring that to mind. The only time he had any peace was when he lay completely still and drew shallow breath.

He could hardly lay still when he slept normally, to do so now was akin to torture. He ignored the pain as best he could, he'd much rather take that than be restrained to his bed in the middle of the day. The steering of his ship was left with Gibbs and Annamaria, as much as he trusted them, it wasn't him that was in control.

To a man who had manned the rigging himself, rode out Caribbean storms, and battled ships that out gunned him by twenty, laying abed when there was work to done could hardly be tolerated. He heard the ocean calling him from the window, felt the current guiding them, and stayed laying down by sheer force of will. Pain be damned, come docking time nothing was going to keep him in this room.

Ana told him once, and only once, that he could die from this wound and he should stop being so fool-minded about it. Jack could tell how serious things were, he knew the consequences of blood-loss and also the fear of blood-poisoning. To his frame of mind, the bullet had missed his heart only slightly for a reason.

True, he could still die but he hadn't yet and he would live however he could with the time he had left. Ana had looked as if she would smack him for that, but sufficed with just a shake of her head and a warning look. He knew her moods like he knew his ship and also could tell that it would blow over soon.

The doctor would do what he could and until then he would continue to do what he'd always done. He'd command his ship, walk into Port Royal, and only then if absolutely necessary would he collapse onto the doctor's table. Not a moment before if he had to crawl his way there. William and Elizabeth were there at any rate, he'd be sure to check in with them before they left.

He was Captain Jack Sparrow, never had he let anything take precedence over what he believed and a East India wouldn't win this round. Not by a long shot.