A/N: Happy Tuesday everyone :D! This was a difficult chapter to write, as I knew it would be, but I worked on it a lot over the weekend which thankfully meant I could keep to my deadline.
Thanks to all of you for taking the time to review! Now, I won't keep you any longer....onto chapter 17!
Chapter 17: Lucy
The cold water hit Jack hard but he managed to retain his lung full of air, though how he resisted the temptation to release it he would never know. Swallowing water would make him drown more quickly, and many a man had chosen that option when faced with this punishment but Jack did not want to drown, quickly or otherwise. His fate rested largely with the marines above him. If they dragged him through the water too slowly he would die by drowning anyway. Jack did not think any of this however. It would have been hard to disentangle any of his thoughts from sharp instinctive feelings that were screaming at him. Suddenly everything in his mind was erased as a sharp pain seared through his wrist as it came into contact with hundreds of very sharp objects. The dark water flared red as the shells of the barnacles cut through Jack's skin with ease. He twisted but there was no escape. A stream of bubbles escaped his mouth and Jack knew he was losing control. His body, under assault from all sides, gave in and Jack slipped into unconsciousness unable to be strong any longer. The air he had so wisely held was released and water poured into his mouth but Jack was completely unaware of this and of everything else.
Sylvia did not even realise that she was clinging to Nathan. She was so scared, more scared than she had ever been in her life. There was no way she could have hidden it, the feeling was just too intense, too real. Nathan however did not see the truth. He believed her to be over emotional after everything that had happened, and knew that she probably felt a little guilty for causing all of this. A little guilty did not come close. If guilt came on a scale of one to ten Sylvia had already reached fifteen. 'How long has it been now?' she thought to herself frantically. A minute? Two? Oh god, if Jack did not come up soon he would certainly be…she couldn't say it, she couldn't even think it. She looked around at the other people nearby, more to try and distract herself than anything else. None of them looked terrified, a few looked a little worried but there was no fear in their eyes. Sylvia looked away from them in disgust. She began to count the seconds. One…two…oh god, why weren't they pulling him up? Eight…nine….he'd been down there so long…eleven, twelve….it must be nearly three minutes, he'd surely be... Suddenly there was a shout from the middle of the crowd. The marines ran forwards, bunching together and completely blocking everyone's view. Sylvia stood right on her toes craning her neck. She snatched a glimpse of movement beyond the wall of authority figures, and she thought she saw something red. Blood? Sylvia did not even think about it. She broke away from Nathan and hurried to where she hoped she would be able to see what was going on.
No one paid any notice to Sylvia as she stepped onboard the ship but she froze as the marines parted almost as if they were going so especially for her. Jagged lightening cut across the sky and then she saw him. Jack was lying on the deck of the ship, his free arm bleeding so heavily that there was already a pool of blood beneath it. He was face down, and he wasn't moving. Sylvia felt time stand still. He was dead. That was it. She had killed him. Something deep was stirring inside of her, something that was hurting her as it struggled to break through her composure. Better she had never seen him again than this, better she had been raped than this, better she had been killed herself. Anything but this.
A man pushed past her and hurried towards the scene as rain began to fall. Thick droplets hit the deck of the ship and made most of the people in the watching crowd turn away and head back home but Sylvia stood stock still. She wanted the rain to fall and disguise the tears that would surely start running down her face like a waterfall. She wanted to stand out here while the heavens wept with her. The man who had passed her was the only one not in uniform. He sunk onto his knees and opened a large brown bag which he had been carrying. He was in the way of her view now and Sylvia wanted him to move so badly that she wished the wind would pick up and blow him right off the ship into the raging sea. She was beginning to feel horribly light headed. It all felt like a nightmare that she could not escape from.
The man with the brown bag rolled Jack onto his side and then moved slightly himself which gave Sylvia the chance to see Jack's face. His eyes were closed. She let out a shuddering sob which, perhaps fortunately, was heard by no one but herself. Suddenly the man beside Jack thumped him hard on the back. Sylvia, startled, felt her muscles tense up. What on earth was he doing?! Whatever he was doing apparently had no effect but before Sylvia, who was on the verge of intervening, could do anything about it he had repeated the performance. Sylvia actually moved forwards, shock written all over her face but what she saw next froze her once again in her tracks. Water began to leak from Jack's mouth, then he coughed and finally he took the breath of air that saved his life. When Sylvia saw his eyes open she thought she might just die of relief right then and there. It did not seem to matter that he was still bleeding profusely or that he had a glazed look in his dark eyes, all that really mattered was that he was still alive.
Jack's mind felt like it was still underwater. He heard voices but they sounded muffled and distant. When he opened his eyes the world was blurred. He wanted to vomit but didn't have the energy to do so. He was completely unaware of the world around him, to the extent that he did not even realise he was now on his feet being supported by two marines. He was not even conscious of the fact he was alive. The General was standing in front of him.
"Congratulations Captain," he said in a low, poisonous voice, "You've earned the right to rot in hell. Take him away."
The rain was falling heavily now but Sylvia had not noticed. She saw the marines begin to walk away and she was all set to follow them when she felt someone grab her arm. She twisted around sharply, her eyes full of fear.
"It's alright," said Nathan quickly, "It's only me." Sylvia did not feel particularly comforted.
"You startled me," she said as she turned back. Jack had disappeared.
"Sorry," said Nathan sincerely and he added, "You're not supposed to be here you know." He sounded nervous but he needn't have been, none of the marines were paying the pair of them the slightest bit of attention. Sylvia's eyes were scanning the area but she had no idea where the marines had taken Jack. She cursed herself, how could she have let them leave without her? It was bad enough that she had not stopped them from hurting Jack in the first place but now she had let them escape again!
"Where will they take him?" she asked sharply returning her gaze to Nathan. At first the sight of his hair plastered to his head surprised her but then she felt the heavy rain fall on her too and realised she must be looking the same.
"The prison I expect," said Nathan as he tried, and failed, to steer Sylvia back onto the dock.
"They won't release him?" Sylvia asked outraged, "Not even after this?!" The strength of Sylvia's response made Nathan jump slightly. He opened his mouth but it was clear Sylvia was not going to listen to a word he had to say. She pushed past him and stormed down the gangplank unaided. Nathan stood motionless for a moment before hurrying after her taking care not to slip on the wet wood.
Jack was thrown into darkness, the door bolted behind him. He landed on the stone floor and waited for the floor to stop rocking. There seemed to be so many protests from his body that Jack could not concentrate on one, which worked in his favour, at least at first. Even so it took Jack a long time to realise he could not see anything. The rooms only light appeared to come from a few scattered cracks in the walls which did not provide enough light to be of much use. Jack could sense rather than see that he was in a large room, too large for just him, but if there were other occupants he was not in the position to seek them out. Salt water was making the deep cuts to his arm sting agonisingly and it was these that Jack became aware of first. He hissed in pain and ran his good hand over his injured arm. Blood stuck to his fingers, blood which he could not see. Having no way to ease the pain Jack just cradled his arm and tried to think of a way out of the situation, but thinking when you have just been through a life threatening trauma is rarely successful. After a minute or so Jack realised that he was cold, very cold. This was not surprising considering he was still completely soaked through but as soon as he became aware of his body's low temperature he began to shiver violently. He tried to stop himself but the muscle response was utterly involuntary and it only worsened as the minutes crept by. Pretty soon Jack found he was unable to think straight, half formed thoughts swam blindly through his mind instead.
The Conqueror missing…
…gold coins shimmering…
…Sylvia wrapped in his coat…
…the Pearl sailing without him…
…Sylvia watching him a second before that piercing cold…
And with that thought Jack's mind decided it could not cope any more and he passed out on the floor of that dark room alone and in pain.
She had been watching him through large grey, lamp-like eyes that dominated her tiny, thin face. She had seen him examine his arm and she knew he could not see in the dark as well as she could. It had taken years for her night vision to become so acute. He was lying down now; he had been for over an hour, so she decided it was safe to move in closer. The movements of her ghostly pale limbs were like that of a spider, delicate and soundless. She stopped a few feet away from the stranger. He was unconscious, she could see that clearly and judging from the extent of his injuries she was not surprised. She studied the man's face. He was beautiful; there was no doubt about that. His lips were slightly parted, one gold tooth visible. She edged still closer, silent as a shadow. Her large eyes fell upon the injured arm and she winced. The skin was cut to ribbons, with blood hardening all over it. The cuts were deep too, and they would invite infection if she did not do something to help him. Death from infection would be both slow and painful, and she had every reason to believe this man had suffered enough. She crept around the man, turning in a circle around where he lay to assess him. What had happened to him and why? Those were the two questions she asked herself and she answered them in her own mind too. He had a pirate brand, which was unusual. Usually they hung pirates straight out, she did not remember the last time there had been a pirate in here. She was not scared of pirates any more; far scarier were the men who locked souls away in dark prisons like this one to die well away from the eyes of the world. Souls like her.
He did not wake even as she wrapped his arm in strips of her own torn clothing. She was glad of this for she knew the moment he opened his eyes she would flee. Once that was completed she wondered what else she should do. He was cold and he was wet, he would catch pneumonia in no time if he stayed that way and she knew that such a fate was not desirable. Her own father had died that way. Realising what she had to do she scuttled away and found the cloak that had kept her alive all this time. She returned to the pirate and covered him in it. She felt his forehead with one long, white, spindly finger. Ice cold. She felt her own forehead and found she had warmth in her blood. She looked down at the handsome pirate. He had a life ahead of him; he should not be allowed to die in a rotten prison, that was not the way it was meant to be. As she lay down beside him Jack stirred. He could feel something very close to him. No, wait…it was on him! He panicked but stopped when he heard a curiously soft voice speaking.
"It's ok. I'm Lucy, I'm watching over you, Jack." Jack opened his eyes and saw a pair of large grey ones looking back at him but that was all he saw before darkness claimed him once again. Lucy lay back down, her head on Jack's chest. The urge to flee had been replaced by the urge to stay with the pirate. She stayed right by his side, her tiny body doing its best to cover his.
Jack woke some time later. He opened his eyes expecting his surroundings to be lit by morning light but the room was still in darkness. For the first time he could hear shuffling noises, the sounds of other people moving around. Jack found it very disconcerting to be able to hear people but be unable to see them but on his list of things to be concerned about, this was very low down. His mind felt a little clearer which was a definite improvement but Jack was unsure whether he should attempt to move. Everything hurt, even his lungs felt like they were bruised. There seemed to be a slight weight upon his chest too, and suddenly Jack remembered that someone was lying on him. He sat up carefully, wincing as he did so, and the person, Lucy, rolled off him but did not wake. Jack noticed that she had covered him with something, some kind of cloak. Jack looked at his arm, and found that was covered too. She must have bandaged it while he was unconscious, and that struck Jack as a very odd thing to do. Feeling he really ought to thank this Lucy, Jack looked down at her. The dim light was not in any way ideal for seeing anything but Jack could make out certain things about the person lying beside him. She was thin, thinner than he had ever seen a person in his life, and she was so pale she almost seemed to shine like the surface of the moon. Her eyes were closed but Jack remembered what they had looked like above him in the darkness, great grey orbs that seemed to float in midair. Her lip was curled ever so slightly into what could have been a very small smile but Jack could not imagine what anyone would be able to find to smile about in here. He wondered how long she had been trapped in here. If he had to go by appearance alone he would have guessed that she had already been in here for a very, very long time.
Jack wanted Lucy to wake up. He wanted to thank her but he also wanted to ask her things, he wanted information and he could not get that if she remained asleep. On the other hand he was strangely reluctant to touch her in case she should wake suddenly and be frightened.
"Hey," he whispered trying to break through her unconsciousness. There was no response. Jack leaned over and poked her on the shoulder. Still she did not stir. Jack was about to shake her gently when something made him touch her face. His hand recoiled sharply. Her skin was so cold it was like running your finger along a block of ice. It was then Jack knew that she wasn't sleeping at all, she was dead.
Waking up next to someone you don't know is one thing but waking up next to a corpse is quite another. In any other situation Jack would have done everything in his power to get as far away as possible but this girl had saved his life, she had saved his life by giving him hers. Despite this Jack could not help shuddering as he held the dead girl's lifeless hand in his own.
"Sleep well luv," he said softly and he covered her whole body with the cloak. Lucy took a great many things to sleep with her, but the only one Jack wanted to know was why she had decided to help him. But Jack had learnt long ago that dead men tell no tales so he moved on to the next pressing issue.
The next thing of course was getting out of the place he was in but as that was not as straightforward as simply walking out Jack knew he had to work out the system of the prison. Evidently he was supposed to die in here, but if Lucy had survived then she must have had access to food and water. Jack looked around, feeling his chest ache as he did so, but could not make out anything through the gloom. He did not want to make himself stand up but he knew he would have to sooner or later; there wasn't any point in just sitting there. Getting to his feet proved more difficult than he had anticipated and once that was done he felt decidedly unsteady. He immediately regretted moving at all and the thought of lying back down was a very appealing one. Rustling movements either side of him provided a distraction though and Jack got the creepy feeling that other people were watching him. He tried to ignore them as they clearly were not going out of their way to be helpful. He walked a few steps, or maybe more than that, he couldn't remember, and stretched out one hand warily. His fingertips brushed a slimy wall. Trying very hard not to think about what was covering the walls Jack turned around and stepped once again into the darkness. He had taken a fair few paces when he had to close his eyes as a door opened sending light flaring into the room for no more than a second or so. The imprint of this sudden brightness flashed on Jack's eyelids and did not disappear when he opened his eyes to a dark room once more. He blinked several times but the image kept on flashing horribly making his head ache.
Jack tried to make his way to where the source of the light had been and, by rather more luck than judgement, by the time his eyes had readjusted themselves he found he was at a door. It was made of wood and looked heavy. Jack was hardly surprised; he had not expected the door to be made of paper enabling him to walk straight through. He knew there would be guards posted on the other side at all times; slipping past them seemed fairly unlikely although not impossible. He was sidetracked by movement on the floor just in front of him. A rat had just crawled over his boot. It soon scampered away into the darkness. It was only then that Jack heard a lot more shuffling coming from either side, all heading away from him. Jack felt as if his energy was disappearing along with them. His arm was stinging, his lungs were protesting, his body was hurting and he could not ignore it any more. He collapsed on the floor and exhaustion wiped his mind clean almost immediately.
Jack did not wake when the door opened again. The fiery light failed to penetrate his dreamless sleep. The relentless tapping however he could not ignore. At first he assumed it to be a particularly irritating form of dream but when he opened his eyes the tapping did not stop. He looked up and saw that the tapping had been coming from an old man who was poking him relentlessly with one finger. Once the old man knew he was awake however he stopped and shuffled back a pace, his large eyes blinking at Jack through the darkness.
"Can I be helping ye?" asked Jack his voice a mixture of annoyance and tiredness. The old man seemed to have forgotten how or be unwilling to speak. Jack noticed that he was clutching something to his chest in thin, bony hands. Whatever it was he now thrusted it into Jack's hands. Jack looked down and saw he was now holding a chipped cup of water and a crust of bread. He looked back at the old man just in time to see him shuffling back into the darkness without a word. Jack called after him but he did not reappear.
Sylvia had not slept that night. She had argued all evening with Nathan about "the pirate" but Nathan had flatly refused to help her out. It was not the first time that Sylvia had felt powerless and undoubtedly it would not be the last but it was the first time she had refused to give in and be docile after a couple of hours. In the end Nathan had just gone to bed leaving her alone to cool off. Sylvia was not really mad at him, he had not been the one to arrest Jack, he certainly had not been the one to issue the keel hauling order and he had no power to overrule any decision made in this port but he was the only one she could argue with. The truth was, of course, that the guilt was driving Sylvia mad. Again and again she replayed the day's events and each time she thought of something else she could have done or should have said. Every time she saw herself stopping the proceedings but hindsight is not the same as when real life is playing out before you.
Sylvia did not greet the morning light. To her it was just a reminder that she had not thought of anything that could help Jack during the night. Every idea she had, every half hearted plan she had made, seemed impossible to carry out. She wondered what Jack would do if their roles were reversed and it made her feel even worse. There was no way he would have let anything like this happen to her. Sylvia closed her eyes and felt guilt and remorse tear at her insides when suddenly she opened them again. It was not a great idea, but it was better than the ones she had had so far. She just had to be more like Jack.
Jack was leaning against a dry bit of wall. His arm was hurting terribly and no amount of distraction could take this pain away now. It had already begun to bleed through the make shift bandages. There was no way to mark the passage of time so Jack could not tell how long he had been sitting there before the light blinded him once again. He felt someone grab the front of his shirt and haul him to his feet.
"You've got a visitor Sparrow," growled a voice and Jack was suddenly thrown into the light.
When Jack was finally able to see what was going on around him he thought for sure that he had stepped into a dream. Standing a few metres from him, wearing a dress of deep purple, was Sylvia. She saw the way Jack was holding his arm, and how very pale he was and there was nothing on earth that could have stopped her from rushing forwards and wrapping her arms around him. The guards, having been paid handsomely to keep quiet, turned a blind eye. Jack did not return Sylvia's hug, not because he didn't want to but because he was determined to keep his good arm firmly clamped over his injured one to protect it from further harm. Sylvia held him tightly to her as if somehow that would make all his pains go away. Jack closed his eyes, unable to think beyond the warmth of her embrace. They had both waited so long for this moment.
"Oh Jack," said the voice he remembered so well, "I'm sorry." She pulled back, her arms still loosely around him.
"There are so many things I want to say," she said her voice shaking slightly, "But the words just won't come." Jack knew exactly what she meant but that was not how he felt at all. He did not want to speak. He was too tired, too distracted by pain to want to do anything but let the sight of Sylvia remind him that life wasn't all bad after all.
"I never thought I'd see you again," Sylvia was saying, "I thought…" She continued to speak but Jack was no longer listening. Why was she telling him all of this now? Surely she could tell him once they were both out of here, unless… Sylvia felt words spill out of her mouth to fill the void that Jack was creating. Her words died though when she saw something flicker in his eyes. He was looking at her differently now.
"You 'ave come t' get me out o' here, right?" he said in a voice Sylvia had never heard him use before. Sylvia could not bring herself to answer. Jack read the answer in her silence. He said nothing but cold fear made his dark eyes round and bright. Sylvia felt a lump rise in her throat which blocked further words; she knew Jack must hate her now. All she had done since their reunion was take him from bad to worse. Jack heard the movements of guards behind him and knew that in a moment they would be upon him. He did not think about his next action, it came naturally. He stepped forwards and kissed Sylvia passionately, his hand on her face. If he was to be separated from her again then this time at least it would be a goodbye he was happy with.
Jack hit the prison floor but had neither the will nor the inclination to pick himself up again. He was cold again, the kind of cold that goes beyond the temperature of the air. He knew he was likely to catch some foul disease from this hellish place but there didn't seem much he could do about it. His mind went back to Sylvia and she was the last thing he saw before he blacked out once again.
It was night when Jack was next roused to consciousness though he had no way of knowing that. The explosions that woke him should have had him looking around but he could not pull himself out of his sluggish state. His whole body seemed to feel weaker than it had done before he had fallen asleep. He did not know it but he was falling ill, the demands placed on him were too much and the strain was showing. The fight was leaving him. He was dimly aware of the door to the prison opening but he found that he did not have the energy to respond. He just wanted to sleep, why wasn't the light going away? When Jack felt two hands grip his shirt he barely acknowledged them which was not the response of a healthy person at all. These hands, unlike those of the prison guards, were unable to lift Jack to his feet like they longed to.
"Get up Jack," said an urgent voice, "Get up!" But Jack did not want to. He wanted whoever it was to go away and leave him alone.
"Please Jack," the voice pleaded, "Please get up!" Jack reluctantly opened his eyes and saw two very familiar ones sparkling in front of him. He would have recognised those eyes anywhere. Sylvia pushed up the brim of her hat so she could see properly. She looked immensely relieved to see Jack awake.
"I've come to get you out of here," she said with a slight smile. His mind still hopelessly foggy Jack asked, "What about Lucy?" Sylvia frowned and laid her palm against Jack's forehead. He was cold, just as she had expected.
"I'm leaving the door open," she said gently, "Everyone can get out." She had no idea, of course, that Lucy would never be able to walk in the open air again.
"Please Jack," she said again, "You've got to help me, you've got to get up." Jack felt her try and pull him upwards but she had no chance of doing it alone. Her action seemed to snap Jack back to his senses, at least temporarily. With Sylvia's help he got up but Sylvia was still close to despair, they seemed to be taking so long. She was just beginning to believe that they might make it out in time when Jack stopped in the doorway.
"Come on Jack," Sylvia said desperately trying to pull him forwards. Jack looked behind him. The darkness seemed to stretch on forever.
"Jack!" cried Sylvia. He could hear the panic in her voice and he was not about to ignore it. Together they walked into the candle light and then out into the cool night air.
A/N: A lot of people voiced their dislike of Sylvia since she married Nathan in their reviews, has she redeemed herself at all in this chapter? Or has she got a lot more work to do? :) Poor Jack, I am so mean to him :P.
London got its first taste of snow yesterday! It snowed for about 30 seconds :D, but it's better than nothing, right? I'm hoping for more today but it's not looking at all likely.
Next chapter will hopefully be out around Tuesday...all depends if it's any easier to write than this one was. :)
