Chapter 5: Meanwhile...

Okay... so. Bit of a change, here. I thought Jack deserved to have the mike for a bit so THIS CHAPTER IS IN JACK'S P.O.V.

JJJAAACCCKKKSSS!

Well... so. Maybe it was the wait on the last chapter, but none of the people who reviewed in the earlier chapters reviewed in the last one... boohoo. But thank you, the people who did... This chapter is NOT the songfic I promised for two reasons:

(1)Jack deserved some dialogue.

(2) ONE FRIKIN' PERSON VOTED FOR THE SONGFIC. Well, THAT'S not fair... pleeease! I want a vote! Just for fun? Please?
Well, the show must go on... (sigh)

For those of you who ignore my A N: This chapter is in Jack's point of view.

I had never expected it to go this far.

Ever.

But it did, and I can't change it now.

Maybe it was just wishful thinking, maybe it was the first hint of the madness that would soon follow... but I could have sworn I heard her say she loved me.

I don't think I could have imagined the way those words sounded in my head. They echoed with emotion that only she could have brought into light. But I never forgot it. I never forgot the way her voice sounded, and I clung to it, hoping beyond hope that I might, someday, see her again.

I hadn't set out alone that night. That was daft even for me. I set out with Thomas Ebber, a neighbor and friend.

We had sailed for a week, I was conserved and quiet, haunted by what I had seen. Haunted with a horror only I knew. Because no one else had been there.

People have called me mad. Daft. Crazy. But they barely knew what caused it... if they had been there, seen what I'd seen...

They'd understand.

On the eighth day there was fog. Never a good sign. We where running low on food and water and Thomas had fallen ill. I tried too keep him awake, I shook him until his sandy blonde curls flopped onto his face, his once vibrant, laughing and very much alive green eyes clouded with pain. He drifted in and out of consciousness, I had to force feed him, and on the tenth day he died.

It was one of the hardest things I ever did, letting him go. He was all I had, other than a small amount of supplies and Siren's necklace. I don't think I ever let that go. It hung around my neck, smooth as I grasped it in my tired hands. The tears overflowed as I set Thomas into the water, and slowly let him go. Let him drift down, pale and calm.

And I sat and watched until he disappeared.

I ran out of food the next day, and that was when the rain started.

It pattered down slowly, I was too tired to care. Too tired, too hungry and too sad. I barely remember the when the rain started to outright pour, I remember being hurled from the boat, enveloped in water, and I also remember not giving a flying turd weather I lived or died.

Then there was comfort. I was in a bed, warm and welcoming. But it wasn't heaven, I knew that. I knew because my hand hurt like fire. And I was sicker than I ever thought possible. But I did see an angel.

She wasn't really there, and I knew that, but I know I saw her, I know I saw my Siren. She whispered to me, told me that I was going to survive. She smiled and I could feel myself smile, and I held her necklace in my hand.

I awoke a day later, I was fevered, but my arm didn't hurt as much. I looked down to see that it had been splinted and wrapped in gauze, which was almost thoroughly soaked through with red blood.

"You smashed your arm to smithereens. We managed to splint it properly, but you'll have a handsome scar once it's healed up. Your lucky. With a gash that big on your wrist, most people bleed to death." I looked over to find a man sitting there. His fair hair was long, tied back in a low, loose ponytail. A stained blue bandanna was wrapped around his head, and soft and welcoming brown eyes danced with concern and a bit of amusement from where he sat on a carved wood chair.

"Wh... what?"

"Your arm. It was broken in three places and bleeding like hell. We found you flung over a log, unconscious, in the middle of one of the worst storms I've ever seen." The strange man stood and I could see him better. He wasn't the tallest man I'd ever seen, about 5'11, but strong. With broad shoulders and I-know-what-I'm-doing-so-back-the-hell-off air. He was wearing an undyed cotton shirt, baggy and billowy and open in the front. Brown breeches where also baggy and rolled up around his knees. I also noticed he was barefoot.

"Thanks to the newbie... what's his name? Umm... Turner. That's it. That Will Turner patched you up good."

"Um... Sir?"

The man laughed. "Son, NEVER, and I mean never, call me Sir. You may call me Captain or Brenn." He turned to me, smiling. "Because that's all I am. I'm just Brennan Hampshire. Captain of the Black Pearl."

"Then... um... Captain. Where am I?"

"The Black Pearl, son. In water. Lots of it. A whole big puddle of water. Not exactly sure where, I'm always bad with that sort of thing... but we're still near where you where wrecked." He was pacing as he spoke. And I had slowly pulled myself up into a sitting position.

"I'm feeling generous today, lad. And I've never been the most evil of all pirates... in person, not when I'm cutting someone's throat... and I've decided to give you a choice: We can drop you off at the next place we stop for supplies or you can join us."

"P... pirates?" I stuttered, getting rather scared.

"Yes. You happen to be on the most successful pirate vessals in the Caribbean."

"Ah... and you want me to j... join you?"

"Or be dropped off. We'll be in Tortuga in to days. You have till then to decide."

Two days past, and we where in Tortuga. Over those days, I had come to know the crew, especially the Turner boy. Because that was all he was, really. A boy. No older than I. It was on that day, in the rough streets that always smelt of smoke, gunpowder and the same perfume that all of the Tortugan women seemed to wear, that I came to my final decision. There where sparrows on the street, arguing over a scrap of bread. They made me laugh, squabbling until they had broken the bread into absolutely equal pieces, they then flitted away.

They looked so happy. So careless. So...

"Free." I muttered. "I want to be free."

That was it. From then on I was Jack Sparrow, I fought for freedom. When the Captain retired, he named me Captain. I was a pirate, I was actually a pirate. Then Barbossa and the rest of the crew betrayed me, back-stabbing dogs... I easily escaped the island, having fun making up a miraculous escape story. Returning to Port Royal WAS the hardest thing I ever did... I was stricken with fear, though I didn't let it show, I only paced at night, trying to think what I might be able to do if I where to meet Siren...

I didn't meet her, as you might have noticed. But I did meet Elizabeth, and she spoke of Siren. I never knew if it was my Siren, and I didn't ask. I just pretended it was. I pretended this tomboyish, silly daredevil was the girl by the same description I knew.

Then came the day I was asked back.

The mail boat came once every two months, and most of the mail we got was outdated and usually not ours (we opened them, anyway, you should se some of the love letters we picked up. Heh heh heh... absolutely hilarious.) But there was one I found written to the entire ship.

To the crew of the Black Pearl

From Elizabeth Swann

C/O Angus Swann, Governer In Port Royal

Puzzled, I opened it, the crew gathered around. I was one of the only ones who could read and I read it to the crew.

Dear Mr. Jack Sparrow and the crew of the Black Pearl.

Howdy!

I request your presence at the wedding of my best friend, Siren Main, Daughter of Duke Brennan Main, to her Fiancé, Harry Beuford, Son of Lady Miranda Beuford. On the thirty-first of December. I would say RSVP, but there's no real way you can respond, is there? So just come.
Miss you and can't wait to see all of you,

Elizabeth Swann

The room was quiet for a moment, before a roar of cheers erupted from the crew, men where hoisted on eachother's shoulders, people where thrown, everyone screamed. But I remained quiet. Elizabeth had never told me Siren's last name, I hadn't asked, not really wanting to know. I preferred my own fantasy of her being MY Siren. This confirmed it. She was. She was truly my old best friend. They young woman I had secretly fallen in love with.

And now, she was getting married.

I had been too warapped up in my own thoughts to notice that the crew was looking at me, waiting g for me to say something.

"Captain?" Anna-Maria said, face questioning.

"A wedding? I love weddings! Drinks all around!" I said, seeming much more happy than I was as I threw the letter to the ground. I noticed Anna-Maria's questioning look as she stood in the doorway, one eyebrow raised, hands on her hips. "What?" I asked with my eyes. She didn't seem convinced, but she accepted a bottle of rum that was being chucked freely around, uncorked it and had a swig, all the while never keeping her eyes off me. I stood and pushed past her, walking to by room. I sat at my desk and sighed, putting my head in my hands.

And I cried.

I'm not exactly sure why, but I did.

The tears fell over my hands. Silent, sobless tears. She probably didn't even remember me... no one had when I had gone back. I had been so scared... so afraid. And now I had to go back. I missed Will, and Elizabeth. But I couldn't see her again. I couldn't let her see what I had become...

But what was I saying? I sat straight and slapped myself. "Pull yourself together, Sparrow! If the captain could see you sink this low, crying over some fat, meaningless wench you haven't seen for years!" I barked at myself. My cheek stung, and I rubbed it. "Your going to that wedding. And your going to have a great time."

I sat back on the chair, setting my feet on the desk. I smiled.

"Yeah. It'll be fun."

God, I was stupid.

A/N: Hehehehehe. Next chapter: SONGFIC! (Maybe.)