Do I Have To Cry For You?
Chapter Seven
Please re-read chapters three and four before reading this chapter! Both were rewritten!
She could not understand it.
Twenty-three years, over two decades of his thirty-seven year old life, had been spent engaged in piracy. Ana Maria had met the man some years back and had since tended to countless wounds that he had earned himself during duels, raids, or whatever else he had happened to be doing at the time that had caused him hardship. Skids, slashes, stab wounds, bullet wounds, and even swords that had had their tilts drenched in various poisons before penetrating his skin had all caused him little, if any, alarm. Hell, the man had even nearly died on more occasions than she cared to remember and had been up and about, shouting orders to his crew whilst taking swigs from a rum bottle the next day.
A single slash to the wrist had sent him crumbling to the floor and into a corner of his small, soiled cell.
A single slash to the wrist had effortlessly broken down a barrier that no bullet wound, stab wound, or concoction had never even been able to scratch.
She did not understand it. Or maybe she did not want to understand it. Perhaps she was even going so far as to be keeping herself from understanding it?
Ana Maria wordlessly allowed her head to fall into her hands. Why must it always be the latter of the choices?
If she suddenly were to make up her mind to stop acting as a simpleton would in her current situation and finally accept the fact that she did very well understand why the slash had affected the pirate captain the way it had, she'd have nothing else to think about, nothing else to distract her from the fact that the Doctor and Jack had been gone for practically the entire day and that he had managed to do God knows what to him in that period of time. Perhaps the Doctor had not hurt Jack at all? And even if he had, she knew Jack; she knew that Jack would not crumble and that he would not break. He was a pirate… their foundation was one of stone.
She regretted the thought almost instantly.
Stone can crumble. Stone is breakable. And then what?
Ana Maria shook her head as she pressed her fingertips firmly against her skull.
If the Doctor had done so much as laid a single finger on him, so help her God…
Her eyes were immediately resting on the door that Jack had been dragged inside of all those hours earlier when she heard it swing open with a low moan. The already all-too-familiar tall figure of the Doctor slowly emerged from the shadows and forcefully pushed a smaller, shorter figure forward towards the ground. It fell to a heap not even five seconds later. Ana Maria's eyes gradually walked the length of the frozen mass.
There was no blood.
None.
Not even a trace. He was not hurt. Jack was fine.
Why wasn't he fighting back? Why wasn't he trying to escape? The Doctor hadn't hurt him…
He had done something much worse.
"I trust that you followed orders, Miguel?" The figure's head slowly bobbed up and down in silent response to Drake's question. "Very good," Drake smiled with approval as he, too, nodded his head. Miguel dropped his eyes from Drake's in order to briefly steal a glimpse of first Jack and then Ana Maria before hurriedly turning on his heel and leaving out of the same door that he had just come out of seconds earlier. The door shut with a soft clicking sound and soon the room was once again engulfed with silence.
"Orders?" Ana Maria's tone was soft and hesitant, perhaps, Drake wordlessly thought to himself, even border-lining fearful, or maybe even horrified. He couldn't help the smile that had spread across his lips as he turned away from the door to be able to meet the female pirate's eyes.
"Yes," he answered, noting with satisfaction that Jack had not moved, nor had Ana Maria's eyes from off of his unmoving body. "The Doctor, or Miguel, as I like to call him, was given strict orders."
"Such as?"
"He was not allowed to make Jack physically bleed."
Her eyes were off of the pirate captain's body and on his tormentor's within seconds. "Physically bleed?" Her voice tentatively echoed. Drake nodded his head in response to her question and Ana Maria could almost literally feel the many thoughts of what that were filling her mind and causing tears to sting at her eyes with the threat of falling over and journeying down her cheeks. "What did he do…?" She was not even entirely sure that she wanted to hear what Miguel had done. Jack Sparrow had always been dangling from a line somewhere between sanity and insanity, and from what she had seen, the fact that he had not fought back, the fact that he was lying on the ground not even trying to escape, were more than enough signs that Miguel, whatever the hell it was that he had made Jack undergo, had finally snipped that line and Jack, her captain, her friend, had finally, after thirty-seven years, been pushed over the edge.
Ana Maria did not even notice that Drake had not answered her question.
She watched through blurred vision as the older man kicked the door to Jack's cell back open before dragging him in and then walking back out.
Jack did not once protest.
His eyes were open now, but he was not looking at Drake, he was not looking at Ana Maria. He seemed to be looking through them and at something that neither of the two could see.
God help them. Miguel had psychologically tortured a man that had not the strength, nor the sanity, to live through it and come out unscathed.
* * *
It wasn't that he thought the H.M.S Dauntless to be nothing more than rubbish. He knew that she was a good, reliable ship. She had proven this herself five years earlier during the stand-off with Barbossa when his cursed crew had launched that surprise attack against Norrington's men. She was more than capable of aiding them in finding Jack Sparrow and Jack Turner and then returning all five of them safely back to Port Royale.
Bootstrap trusted the Dauntless; he just did not trust himself.
He had not sailed in a year. He missed piracy. He would be lying if he said that he did not.
"William?" The older man turned his eyes away from the horizon in order to be able to meet Elizabeth's. "Will's back. He said that he grabbed a couple of maps and a few extra swords that he had hidden at our home. We're ready to set sail, William." He momentarily allowed his eyes to wordlessly roam hers before nodding his head in response to her words. Elizabeth frowned as the former pirate's eyes slowly traveled back to the horizon. It was calling to him. It was beckoning him; begging him to sail the Caribbean once more.
She would be incorrect if she even dared to think that the former pirate had every intention of ignoring its pleas.
She knew him better than that, and she knew that he knew himself better than that. Once he set foot on the Dauntless, there would be no turning back, there would be no return to Port Royale, or to even land. It did not take a genius to know this.
Piracy was in his blood. There was no escaping that, no matter how much he tried to run and hide.
"Right," the older man finally spoke a few minutes later. "I guess our best bet would be to establish their most likely course… -No idea what that would be, though." Elizabeth watched as the older man scratched thoughtfully at the stubble that enveloped his chin. "Isle de Muerta, perhaps? Though I doubt it. Why would Jack have gone there? Guess we can scratch that." Bootstrap unconsciously narrowed his eyes at the horizon as his mind silently read down the list of possible courses and locations. Elizabeth blinked as she followed Bootstrap's gaze and rested her eyes on the horizon as well. It truly was breathtaking. The sky met the sea and the sea met the sky in a way that left you unsure as to where one began and where the other end.
It was no wonder that pirates dedicated their existence to following and chasing it. It was no wonder that both Bootstrap and Jack craved it.
In all honesty, who would not?
"Tortuga?" She suggested, blinking and removing her eyes from off of the horizon and resting them back on Bootstrap. "Could Jack have been there?"
"That's more likely of a place than Isle de Muerta is," the older man smiled softly, "that's for sure. And it's ole' Cap'n Jack. He's in Tortuga every chance that he gets."
"He wouldn't give the Pearl up without a fight, though."
"Aye, he wouldn't. The Pearl's his life; his sole reason for existing. He'd sooner die than allow her to be mistreated."
"Something had to have happened, then," her tone was wavering, and Bootstrap simply nodded his head in agreement with the younger lass, hoping that she had not seen the flash of terror that had momentarily lit up his features. The fact that Seth had managed to effectively commandeer the Pearl frightened him to no end. He knew the lengths that one would have to go to to be able to do so much as to even look at the Pearl. Seth had stolen her. He had taken her. Bootstrap did not even want to know what Seth had had to do to Jack in order to be able to seize his ship and make it out alive and in one piece.
He could tell by Elizabeth's stillness and uncertainty that she did not want to know either.
"Father."
Unlike Elizabeth, Bootstrap did not turn his eyes away from the horizon. "William."
"We should get going," Will answered. "God only knows how long it will take us since we don't know where Seth is headed."
"We do. Tortuga."
"Are you certain, William?" Elizabeth frowned at the older man. "I mean, I was just making a suggestion… -Tortuga is a day's journey at least; we can't afford to be incorrect." Bootstrap turned away from the horizon and nodded towards the younger woman; a small, confident smile lying lazily on his lips.
"I've known Jack Sparrow for twenty three years, Elizabeth, and I know Jack Sparrow far better than the two of you combined. He was at Tortuga, whether he was just stopping by or coming to visit us, I'm not sure, but he was there. Somehow, Seth was there, and one thing led to another and Seth commandeered the Pearl. I don't know why he did, but he did, and so there is no need to drive ourselves crazy with why. Seth's headin' back to Tortuga with your son. We've got to beat him back there before he kills him and Jack Sparrow."
"How do you know? How can you be so sure? For all we know, he could have already killed Jack!" Will demanded of his father; a minor hint of irritation lacing the words and enveloping his tone. This was not the time to be guessing; to be hoping and praying that what they were doing and that what they were thinking was correct! Now was the time for accuracy. "I'm not saying it's a happy scenario, but from what you have told us about Seth, dad, how can we be so sure that he hasn't killed Jack?" Bootstrap narrowed his eyes at his son, and Will instinctively found himself reaching for his sword; remembering that his father had once been a pirate and was still capable of hurting him. The older man took the few steps forward that separated them and slowly placed his hands on his son's shoulders.
"I've known Jack Sparrow for twenty three years," he repeated, and Will frowned, eyes roaming over his father's; noting that they held fear. His words had touched something, but his father was not willing to admit that they had, was not willing to admit that his best friend could very well be dead. "And I know Jack Sparrow far better than you two ever will. Trust me when I say that Jack Sparrow is not dead and that Seth is going back to Tortuga with your son." The older man released Will from his grasp a few seconds later and turned his attention to the Dauntless. Both Elizabeth and Will looked on with hesitant eyes. "Well then," Bootstrap smiled as he turned back around to face them. The fury and the fear that had shone in his eyes only seconds earlier was no more. "Let us set sail to Tortuga, savvy?"
Neither of the two responded to him as they slowly walked to board the Dauntless.
Will was last onboard and he, like his wife and like his father, did not hear the footsteps coming from somewhere behind them.
To Be Continued…
AN: I am so sorry for making you guys wait so long for this chapter while I was rewriting three and four. I can not even begin to tell you all how much I appreciate the patience that you have given me since January. It has paid off, though, because now we are finally moving forward in the story.
Oh, and guess what? There will more than likely be a sequel to this story and the might-be title for the time being is Lay Me Down. I'll let you guys know more details as we get closer to the ending of Do I Have To Cry For You?, which we are very far from.
I have a three day weekend coming up and then Spring Break week after next, plus a whole notebook full of scenes and ideas for this story and its upcoming chapters. I will definitely be updating as much as I possibly can to make up for having you guys wait since January.
Eight will be up ASAP!
Please review on your way out! J
