Chapter Eight, Surrender
"Will you just SHUT-UP?"
Anamaria looked at her Captain. "What?"
"Not you." He could barely think with the damned ringing noise increasing in his ear.
Jack saw Anamaria's look even through the relative darkness of the wall-way/secret passage, and he recognised that look. He carried the reputation of being somewhat inventive in his approach to pirating. Some called it a lack of sense, others called it brilliance.
In truth, most of the time he couldn't care less what anyone thought of him; it was that they did think of him that mattered. So, when people looked at him with the don't-disturb-the-lunatic look, usually it didn't carry any weight. When Anamaria gave him that look, it was altogether a different matter.
Hearing voices was not a new thing; actually, it was an old thing. Not that he heard voices, no. They weren't other people's voices, but rather more like his voice, and definitely never someone else, well not someone else entirely. Not like this, and never a damn ghost.
Moreover, he didn't want Anamaria thinking he'd gone completely mad due to this new development. However, it did worry him that having gone completely mad might not be so far from the truth.
"If not me, then who're y' tellin' ta shut up, Captain?" How was it that whenever she added Captain to a sentence it sounded like an insult?
"No one." Jack cleared his throat. She didn't believe him, and this time she tilted her head to the side. That was the first sign of trouble with Anamaria. When she tilted her head just slightly, it meant she already decided something, and only needed to think up a way of expressing that decision out loud.
"I'll do it on my own if I must."
"Fine." Jack huffed. Then he blinked. Did he really just say fine to leaving Anamaria alone with a bunch of demented corpse greedy doctors? "No. Not fine." He grabbed her arm to keep her from stomping off. "What say you, y' come back t' the Pearl with me, an' we discuss the matter there?"
"With, or without you, Jack." Anamaria shrugged him off as she said her final word. And she left.
Jack would have followed. He intended to follow. But the constant ringing suddenly increased until the pirate saw stars exploding behind his eyes.
"You owe me, Sparrow." Bloody hell, not again. "You owe me a life." How he was able to hear the voice over and above the awful ringing, Jack couldn't fathom. A sharp stabbing pain started to grow behind his eyes, and it grew large enough that it brought the pirate to his knees.
"Better back off, mate; unless it'd be my life yer wantin' in exchange, rather than the life of the one who took yours." Jack said the words out loud, unsure how to otherwise communicate with what was not there.
"Kill him, or I kill you. The choice is yours."
Through the commotion in his head, Jack didn't hear the boot steps returning down the passage way. "God's teeth, Jack, ye were supposed t' follow me." He could only barely make out the words, but he did feel the warmth of her hand on his shoulder moments later.
"Jack, what happened?" Strong arms encircled him, and helped him back up onto his feet. "If yer fakin' this t' get your way, I swear I'll gut ye."
The pressure in his skull intensified even more with the first step, and became unbearable with the second. "Wait… stop." Jack stumbled and nearly brought Anamaria to the floor with him.
"KILL. HIM." The voice of Morris Ettie persisted, and then things went dark again.
~
"He might 'av, but I didn' see it happen." Anamaria tried not to sound defensive, but with Will asking questions like these, how else could she respond? How dare the boy accuse her of not looking after her Captain properly!
"But you said he fainted."
"He did, and I caught him."
"What'd he faint from?" Will again.
"I don't know. He didn't say." As much as she tried to be patient, she couldn't just sit around chatting when her Captain lay unconscious on the floor in front of her.
"Did you ask? Does he faint often?" Will didn't sound so calm either.
"No. I've never seen Jack faint before."
"So you never thought it strange that he'd start now?"
Ana was about to answer that when the object of their concern opened his eyes and glared up at them. "I didn't bloody faint. An' what're y' doing here?" The last bit he directed to Will.
"I've been looking for you. But I never thought to look in the walls till I heard the two of you arguing." Will explained.
"We're getting' ye out o' here, Jack." In a moment of uncharacteristic tenderness, Anamaria brushed a stray lock of hair from Jack's forehead. "Will told me what happened."
"What? 'Ow long 'av I been out?"
"It's the blood loss, Jack; that's why yer faintin'. You'll feel better once we're back on the Pearl."
"S' not blood loss." They helped him sit up and then sat staring at him intently, waiting for him to continue. "An' I can't go back t' the Pearl. Not yet."
"Why not? Isn't that what you're wantin'?" Anamaria narrowed her eyes, just minutes ago Jack was using every argument he could think of to get her out of the school, and now he wanted to stay?
"Still is." Jack agreed, and before continuing paused to cast a searching look at them both. Anamaria felt immediately uneasy about whatever he was about to say next. "I. . . found Morris Ettie." He started slowly. "Or rather, he found me."
"He's alive?" Anamaria asked.
Jack continued. "Not so much. He's a ghost, he's in my head, and he won't get out of it until I do as he asks."
Will and Anamaria gave each other a bewildered look. "What is he asking exactly?" Anamaria asked warily.
"T' take the life of the man who killed 'im."
Will looked away, and Anamaria tried not to do the same. Jack liked to tell stories, she knew he embellished and added to tales liberally whenever he told one, especially when it involved a story about him self. Her first instinct was to think that now, he must be making it up cause what he explained to them was insane. People who heard voices telling them to do things are locked up with other crazy people who hear voices telling them to do things.
"Are you sure?" Will asked.
Jack laughed. "Am I sure?" He asked. "Well, Will Turner, next time let's have you be the one with a vengeful demon nesting in yer brain and I'll ask ye if y' be sure it's there."
"That's not what I meant." Will could not look directly at Jack, but Anamaria deliberately kept her eyes locked on him.
"I know exactly what y' meant, lad. It feels real, that's all I can say."
The one thing Anamaria knew was that Jack was hurt, his hand was bleeding again, and he could barely stand. Whether Jack's story was true or not, this was no time to go traipsing off on a mad errand to avenge a dead friend. "You can fight this Jack, whatever it is, don't let it get the best of you. Just remember, ghost or no ghost, I'm the only one t' be givin' ye ultimatums." Anamaria pulled his arm over her shoulder and hoisted him to his feet. One step was all she took. Just one step.
Instinct makes a person back away from what hurts them. Jack broke away from Anamaria and backed into Will, sending them both off balance. Anamaria wanted to help, but she couldn't. Stunned, she stood frozen in place, unable to act, and unable to do anything but watch.
But Bootstrap's boy did help. Will caught Jack before they hit the ground, and firmly lowered the pirate captain to the wood floor. In that moment, she finally began to understand the faith Jack held in the boy. She was too used to dealing with rogues to see it before. What she assumed to be weakness was actually something else all together, and something that Anamaria her self lost long ago. Will Turner cared, and he wasn't afraid to show it. The boy… no… the man, held onto his friend in a secure embrace, while Jack's body writhed in pain.
Finally, Anamaria regained the ability to move. She knelt down. Whatever stories Jack may have told in the past, this was not one of them. This was real, and she cursed her self for not believing him sooner. If she'd listened to him to begin with, this wouldn't have happened.
"Fight it." Anamaria reached out and took Jack's left hand to hold it tightly in her own. "You can do this; you're stronger than it is."
And fight it he did. Jack's breathing became more laboured the more he fought, and Anamaria tensed in sympathy with each agonized lungful of air. Will kept his hold, and placed a hand on Jack's forehead to keep him steady through another convulsion. "Let it go Jack, let it win."
If Anamaria had a gun, she might have used it. "You're telling him to give up?"
The look in Will's eyes was not what she expected. "He's losing this battle. Tell him Ana, tell him to let it win. He's listening to you, not me."
With all her soul, she didn't want to do it. It wasn't in her nature to give up or give in, and it wasn't in Jack's nature either. Nevertheless, Will was correct, Jack would lose this fight. His grip on her hand grew steadily weaker, and she feared what might happen if he continued fighting. "It's okay, Jack. Just try to breathe, let it win."
The grip on her hand tightened once more, and then relaxed. After a minute his breathing became more even, and Jack's body relaxed as the pain started to ease. He looked raw, and his voice, came out as little more than a hoarse whisper. "Let's not try that again."
"Can you move Jack?" Will asked, and the look that came over Jack's face when he became aware of his position against the young blacksmith was priceless.
"As I live and breathe, Will Turner, that had better be your sword sticking into my back."
Anamaria snickered as Will shifted to give the pirate his space while at the same time remaining close enough to be available if necessary. "Sorry, I wasn't aware my dagger was protruding."
Jack looked at Anamaria and rolled his eyes in humorous exasperation. But Will had an expression of his own she couldn't overlook, the boy was desperately attempting to keep a straight face. Was it possible the blacksmith might be playing along with the jibe? If that was the case, then she owed him thanks for bringing some much needed levity to the aftermath of whatever just happened.
The moment didn't last. Jack looked up at the two of them, his eyes bloodshot and darkly circled with exhaustion, but deadly earnest determination hardened his features. "Seems we've got a man t' kill."
"How are you to do that when you can't hold a sword? Can you even stand?"
"There's more n' one way t' skin a cat, Turner." Jack grinned. "Don't count me out yet."
Thanks to Julie, as usual, for moral support and some much needed whip cracking. And to anyone who considered this Fic abandoned, it was simply misplaced. Thanks to everyone reviewing!!!! And to the gremlins, come stop by for a coffee or two, I promise all the mouse traps have been removed. ;)