DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl or any of the characters included in the package. I do like to play with them and often end up giving them back worse for the wear. (Especially Captain Jack Sparrow!) ;
CLAIMER: I do, however, own the plot of this story and all my OC therein. Some stay around, some don't. That's life, ne?
Part 5: Resurfacing
"Well, I sure hope this works," Chelsea mumbled, unlocking the cell and flinging the door open. "I'm just glad that Uncle did what he did when he did; it's making this somewhat easier and somewhat harder."
Ana raised an eyebrow in question, but got no answer. Instead of waiting for one, she rushed into the cell and dropped to her knees at Jack's side. "What did your uncle do?"
In answer, Chelsea took a vial of clear liquid from the medical bag and dumped the contents into Jack's mouth. "Alright, let's get him out of here."
"Just a second." Ana rose and walked across the narrow hall to where Jack's effects were hanging. She clipped his sword around her waist and tucked the pistol's muzzle into her belt as she had seen him do so many times. She grabbed his hat and returned to his side in the cell.
The two women pulled Jack's limp form off the ground and braced his weight between them, one under each arm. The two dogs plodded up the steep stone stairs, followed by the two women carrying the unconscious pirate.
"The sooner that antidote starts working…the better," Chelsea huffed as they neared the top of the stairs. She tripped on the edge of the top stair, causing Jack and Ana to jerk towards her before she regained her footing. Jack moaned so quietly that although both women heard it, they didn't think anything of it.
"Antidote? T' wha'?!"
"I'll explain later-"
"No, ye'll explain now."
Chelsea closed her eyes a moment, collecting her thoughts in a deep breath. Letting it out, she began: "Alright, my uncle gave Jack a drug to keep him unconscious until we could figure out a way to save him. The Commodore calling us back in concern was more actually a side effe-"
"Stop right there!" The order was accompanied by the click of a hammer being thumbed back.
Chelsea and Ana froze in their tracks and Ana's hand flew to Jack's pistol at her side. The guard froze as well, being given a reminder about the dogs who were now growling with teeth bared and fur bristling.
"I'd drop yer weapons, mate. Ye know wha' they say 'bout dogs."
Although the redcoat didn't know what Ana meant by the statement, his eyes widened in fear and he quickly complied. Ana nodded towards the discarded firearm and Chelsea slipped from under Jack's arm to retrieve it.
"You'll not get out alive."
"Tha's…where ye're wrong…mate,"
All eyes turned to Jack, who was sagging against Ana with his dark locks covering his face. The redcoat's eyes widened even further and he backed away, his fear of the dogs vanishing and being replaced by a dread of the pirate captain despite his unthreatening appearance.
'Maybe we did catch a ghost of sorts.'
"Le's go," Ana snarled, shifting her grip on Jack's upper arm and receiving a small yelp of pain from the pirate captain.
Chelsea scrambled to her position under Jack's other arm. "Careful of the stitches."
Ana tightened her grip and felt Jack's muscles constrict in protest though he remained silent, his slight weight pressing down on both women as it had before.
- - - - -
Strange voices, whispers, floated in and out of his hearing, sounds belonging to no one and yet all of a collective people at once. The language was foreign, but he understood.
It was not his tongue.
At least he didn't think so.
But he understood.
One scene wavered into existence before his clouded, tired eyes. A dark-skinned, gray-haired man with plenty of gold about his person stood mightily upon a stone platform shaded enough to give away no distinguishing features. At his right stood a carbon copy of himself, though much younger with raven-colored hair. Below their perch, several hundred people in strange, pale clothing rose in celebration, though the whole scene played itself out in silence.
A younger man presented the lavishly ornamented leader with a gold platter holding two goblets of wine. The ruler took one goblet for himself and passed the other to what appeared to be his son.
The world fell back to one tone of darkness.
"He should be waking any minute. That was a pretty potent antidote."
Jack's eyes opened grudgingly and he gazed at the foggy figures with hazed eyes. "'m up…an'ido'e? T' wha'?"
A slap met him in answer, suddenly clearing his vision and speech.
"Idiot."
Jack's brow furrowed in confusion and he looked groggily at Ana, peripherally noticing Chelsea's surprised stare. "Is it so wrong fer me t' want t' know luv?"
"Ye just had t' pass out on us again, didn't ya?" Ana asked indignantly, crossing her arms.
"I did?" Jack looked quite puzzled and brought a ringed finger to his chin in a ponderous position.
"If we'd 'ave been caught-"
"But we weren't, Ana," Chelsea butted in. "Can't you let Jack go? It wasn't exactly his choice, sometimes that drug has relapses."
With a rancorous nod, Ana rose from her position next to Jack and extended a hand towards the baffled pirate captain.
"Wha' drug?"
Both Ana and Chelsea decided the explanation was best left alone and stepped from the bushes onto the cobblestone street, the heels of their shoes clicking. Jack clumsily jumped a low hedge in his rush to catch up to them and his toe caught on a higher branch.
Several screams bounced up and down the street.
The distraction lasted for only a second and before Jack could take in the reactions of the others in the area, his foot met the stones at an awkward angle. As his ankle buckled, the ground seemed to come up to meet him. He fell into a heap that was, to say the least, lacking in style.
A snort of amusement drew his face away from the ground with a scowl that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Didn' ya 'ear tha'?"
Ana's face suddenly darkened and the smile left her lips. "Hear wha'?"
"Th' screams…" Jack trailed off as an internal guard presented itself in Ana's eyes. "Ne'er mind." He rose and joined Ana, both allowing Chelsea and the dogs to take the lead toward the tavern where they had arranged to meet with Gibbs. The agreement had been that they would meet outside the fort after the escape, but if more than an hour passed, the tavern was the scheduled meeting place.
"Is she back?"
The whispered question sent a chill up and down Jack's spine, though he showed no sign of it. His mind lashed back in time three weeks to when he had last been captured, hung, and plagued by that dastardly voice. The cold-tipped words of the mysterious haunter still remained imbedded in his heart and memory, but he no longer paid them heed.
"No…s'not her. S'somethin' else,"
"Like wha'? Yer're still…here, right?"
Jack looked down into Ana's eyes, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and grinning in an attempt to comfort her. "Closer'n e'er."
She could feel his hip hitting hers lightly as their differing gaits collided: his pronounced drunken swagger and her slight, barely noticeable sway. The sensation warmed her and the internal guard dropped.
Jack was here to stay.
Her head drooped to lie on his shoulder as they walked the rest of the way to the tavern. The group entered the tavern and, unlike the establishments of Tortuga, it was quite silent in the building. No flying mugs or brawling drunks were to be seen. In fact, only a few people were there despite the setting sun. They easily spotted Gibbs and joined him and Mark at a side table.
"Jack!" Gibbs exclaimed as three new arrivals took their seats at the table, among them the aforementioned pirate captain. To his credit, Jack looked fine, the slightly stained wrap on his upper right arm excepted.
Jack waved a barmaid over, resting his chin tiredly on his left fist. When the barmaid scurried over to the table, Jack ordered rum for himself and then sent her to fetch the drink.
"So, everything went as planned it seems," Mark commented, a knowing glint in his hazelnut eyes.
"Aye. Thanks fer yer help Mark, Chelsea," she nodded to each in turn, her gratitude amplified on her features as she rested her hand on Jack's shoulder and lightly massaged his tense muscles.
The barmaid returned and set the mug of rum on the table before Jack, who carelessly flipped a coin her way. He took a large gulp of the liquid before allowing the mug a short respite from attention.
"Here you are my pharaoh…pharaoh…pharaoh…"
Jack straightened and tensed as the unfamiliar voice reverberated through his mind.
In slow motion the ruler raised his goblet in a toast and took a long drink. Moments later, he began choking and gasping as he sank to his knees. The son and servant were at his side instantly, inquiring but completely useless. The pharaoh rasped his last words as his breathing became more and more ragged.
The son's goblet of wine lay tipped beside the throne, it's contents staining the sand-colored stone.
"Jack, what's wrong?"
Ana's voice alerted Jack to reality and his rough, weak gasps. Her hand tightened on his shoulder in an attempt to bring him back. Blinking several times, he forced his breathing to some semblance of normal and his eyes refocused.
"Jack, wha's wrong?" Ana repeated, worry tingeing her voice.
Not wanting to concern her further, he plastered his trademark grin on his face. "Nothin' luv, just a lil' tired."
[a/n: Hey all! Well, this is a whole day late in comparison to when I wanted to post, but school interfered with the posting time. Bah. Well, thanks to jackfan2's muse-kick this morning, this chapter is finished. Also, many thanks to all those who review. It adds a little light to my world of darkness.]