Reflections in Dirty Water
By Jo Taylor and Avalon
Rated: PGOriginal Date Posted Oct, 2003
Feedback will be welcomed with open arms and copious thanks.
Summary: When Jack is captured by an old nemesis, who intends to hang him in the morning, he spends a long, cold night in the ship's bilge, with his memories.
Acknowledgements: To dashing Captain Jack Sparrow for providing inspiration.
Disclaimer: Not ours. Don't own 'em. Savvy?
I. TAKEN PRISONER
A tattered blanket of cloud looked down on the black ship ploughing its way through the warm Caribbean waters. The majority of the crew were below hatches getting some much-needed rest. Above, only two watchmen and the bosun's mate at the wheel were witness to Jack's roving. He had been prowling the ship for hours now, checking every cabin and storeroom, every rope, every plank, until his crew began to grumble. But this was his ship, and he wanted to see what harm she had taken from Barbossa and his unholy crew. His fingers caressed the wooden rail under his hand, sliding sensuously along the polished surface. Ah, but she was beautiful. The poor old girl had taken a battering from Barbossa, but his crew had worked hard to keep her seaworthy. Below decks, water seeped in slowly despite their running repairs, keeping their progress slow, but Jack wasn't worried - in a day or two they would reach a safe harbour and he could see to her refit. What was a little water on board compared to the troubles his darlin' had seen? Though if things got really tight they could stop off at Shandling Bay and effect sturdier repairs. He didn't like the idea much - the Navy knew all about that shallow inlet, but it was an option - and he was all for keeping his options open.
From the moment he had stepped foot on board the Black Pearl, Jack had been filled with a sense of security long missing. He knew the feeling would be transitory. It wouldn't be long before Norrington came looking for him, but for now he was enjoying the oneness he felt with his surroundings.
He made his way to the poop deck, nodding to Cotton at the wheel, and headed for his favourite spot. Had anyone seen him at that moment they would have wondered at the steady gait, for here, on board his ship, his movements synchronised perfectly with the pitch and yaw under his feet. With a sigh he stretched out, one arm beneath his head. He had spent too many hours cooped up behind bars just lately; he needed the wind on his face and the sense of space all around him. As the moon peeped out from between the clouds Jack found himself holding his breath, waiting for the moonlight to find him. He held up one hand in the sudden pearly glow and sighed in relief. Real flesh and blood cast a shadow across his features. He flexed his fingers, wiggling them in the faint light, a delighted self-satisfied grin on his face.
Pulling his battered hat down over his face, Jack let his senses begin to drift. Under his back the hard wooden planks moved with every swell of the ocean. The familiar slap of the waves against the hull was comforting. It seemed a veritable age since he had slept on the Black Pearl's deck with the tang of salt in every breath he took.
The creak of wood, the snap of canvas as the wind bit into the sails, were all so very familiar…but something didn't feel quite right. Something, and he had no idea what, distant yet increasingly insistent to his senses, disturbed his rest. Slowly Jack pushed himself upright, moving his hat to sit securely on his head. Standing, he made his way forward and let his eyes scan the dim horizon. His ship was running dark. No light shone from any portal. Only the tiny flicker of a half-hidden lamp was to be seen and then only when Cotton needed to check the compass.
"Something ain't right," Jack murmured softly, as though he were speaking his thoughts out loud. "The Pearl, she's talking to me now." Jack trusted his instincts, trusted the ship beneath his feet. He didn't have much faith in anything else, but his gut never lied. "Something's coming."
Cotton gave Jack a strange look, but his captain had already moved to the rail. Jack looked up at the deepening blanket of cloud and sniffed the air. There was a storm gathering - he could feel it in the way the breeze blew against his face and in the building tension in the atmosphere. Though that tension might just as easily be within him. Something was making his spine tingle with anticipation, and not in a good way. Jack searched for another break in the clouds where the moon might peek through and light the vista around him. Moving slowly, he kept his eye on the distant horizon, waiting for the moon to show itself between the clouds. She didn't disappoint. A faint glimmer of white from astern was all he needed - the moon reflected off the white canvas of a ship coming up behind them. Keep calm, he adjured himself. No way it was Norrington on his trail already. He'd seen the capitulation in the man's eyes that would give him a good day, maybe two, head start - or so he hoped.
Each time the moon peeked out from behind the clouds, the following ship seemed to be a little closer. Her lines were familiar - and very unwelcome. Right now Jack would give anything to have Barbossa's crew on board to man the oars and put a bit of speed onto the Pearl's stuttering gait.
He gazed up at his own rigging and cursed the crew for having replaced the black sails. Each time the moon showed her face the sails lit up like a beacon, pinpointing them for all to see. First thing he would do, if he got out of this one, would be to dye those pristine white sails black once more.
His stomach tensed as he thought of the last time he had seen the chasing ship's sails and remembered the promise her captain had made when they had parted.
He lingered for one last gaze, assuring himself he was not mistaken, then flew down the stairs, barrelling through the doors and down to where his crew rested.
"Lively now, boys." Jack's voice clarioned over the assorted snores and grunts. "Up, lads," he exhorted, shaking shoulders, kicking at backsides. "If you value your hides get up in the rigging; all sails now and get the wind full in them. Covenant's right behind us."
Gibbs was staggering to his feet, dragging a hand across his eyes to brush the dregs of sleep from them when Jack's words brought him to a halt.
"You sure, Jack? I thought you put Covenant down five year ago now. He's not been in these waters since before we met."
Jack's apologetic grimace and the eloquent shrug of his shoulders told its own tale. "What can I tell you?"
Gibbs shook his head in exasperation, pushing his way past his captain to rally the crew.
"AnaMaria, get the guns run out, load them with whatever we have…" Her furious gaze brought Jack to a halt.
"Ain't nothing left to put in the cannon, Captain. Barbossa left us with nothing; not one cannon ball – almost as if he knew we'd come to this. We're sitting ducks."
Jack couldn't believe it. His ship - unarmed. Covenant would blow them out of the water. Nor would Harry care what happened to the Black Pearl's crew - it was Jack he would be after. The leaden boom of a cannon being fired close by was swiftly followed by the splash of a cannon ball hitting the sea. Jack raced back to his place on deck, noting that Covenant's vessel was closing the gap rapidly. The Pearl was within range of his guns now. Another shot soared towards them and hit water just in front of the Pearl's prow. Harry's gunners wouldn't miss unless instructed to, which gave Jack hope that it wasn't the sinking of Jack's ship Harry wanted, but Jack himself.
"We can't outrun him, Jack!" Gibbs called from the rigging. "We have every sail unfurled. She's taking all the breeze there is and he's still gaining on us."
If it had been just his neck on the line Jack wouldn't have hesitated to trust to his luck, but looking round at his ragtag crew, good people the lot of them, he couldn't ask them to fight this battle. If he gave himself up, Covenant might be more likely to be lenient with the others. Jack had nothing left to fight with, no harbour close enough to run to, no weapons save his quick wits - and they wouldn't stop the cannon being aimed at his ship right now.
Setting his hat more firmly on his head, he shouted up to his first mate. "Put up a white flag, Gibbs, and get you and the others below."
"What are you doing lad? Covenant'll string you up for sure."
Jack's grin had lost some of its insouciance. "He can try, mate. Others have before him and here I am!" He stared over at the ship, now coming alongside his own, her gun ports open and aimed at the Black Pearl's already battered sides. Would Harry sink the Pearl? He might, and there was nothing Jack could do to stop him. Jack's dark eyes lit with apprehension as he realised that Gibbs and the crew had ignored his orders and were standing just behind him – waiting.
Jack's eye caught the new name emblazoned on the sloop's hull – Revenge - and wondered just how the hell he was going to get out of this.
Jack had been the first to cross to the Revenge, his crew tagging along reluctantly. They all stood in a ragged group outside the open door to the main cabin. Around him ranged some familiar faces. He tried an ingratiating smile, only to be met with stony looks and less than encouraging grins. From within, Jack could see the Revenge's captain sitting in solitary splendour upon a gilt chair. He tried another smile. It had no effect.
Covenant eyed Jack and his crew with a baleful eye. With a wave of his good hand he dismissed the handful of crew that had been aboard the Black Pearl.
Gibbs voice called back to him as his crew were escorted, none too gently, to where a plank still linked the two ships. "I'm sorry, Jack!"
Jack took a moment to lock his gaze with the old man's. He nodded his head once in understanding then returned his attention to Harry who was watching him with an anticipatory look in his eye that Jack really didn't like.
"Shall I sink her for you Jack? Add a few more holes to that battered hull? No – I think it's more fitting that she sails away from you under a new captain – again. One who'll take better care of her?"
For once Jack could find no words, his throat constricting uncomfortably and once again he had the depressing knowledge that his ship would shortly be sailing away without him.
"Cast them off, lads." Covenant's voice was filled with a bitter satisfaction. "Take a good look, Jack Sparrow, for that's the last time you'll ever see your darling Black Pearl."
Jack watched the black hulk edging away from him, ignoring Harry's words. His ship would survive - he knew that with a certainty. She'd been through all kinds of hell, literally, and come out the other side. So maybe this wasn't his time to be her captain - but one day…
"Bring him in here!"
Ungentle hands grabbed his arms, dragging him into the main cabin until he stood in front of the Revenge's captain.
Covenant's voice dropped into the silence that had settled in the room. "It's been a while, Sparrow. You're looking well."
Jack couldn't say the same for Captain Covenant. The burn-scarred face with one good eye watched him with a coldness that could freeze the salt water under the hull. The man's left hand was clawed where burned skin had not healed properly, and when he rose to pace around his prisoner, his right leg dragged significantly, even with the use of a silver-handled cane.
Jack grimaced at the sight, and understood why Covenant had renamed his ship. There was no way he would let Jack go… given that Jack was the one who had brought him to this.
"I'll give you till dawn, Sparrow. I've had five long years to anticipate this moment - I'll give you till the sun comes up. Then I'm going to string you up to my yardarm and watch you dance."
Even when he had been standing on the hangman's dais, listening to his crimes being read out, Jack had not been this aware of his mortality. Something always came along to give him an edge, a way out. He didn't want to resign himself to a quick drop for Harry's amusement, but he was damned if he could see a way out. He chanced a look at the weather-beaten faces surrounding him, some familiar some not, but could see no glimmer of sympathy in any of them. Turning back to his captor he tried in his best wheedling voice. "Now, Harry, you don't really want to do that! Can't we come to an accord? There must be something I can offer you that's worth my life? Treasure perhaps? I know just the place…"
Harry took a step forward, his cane tapping hard on the wooden floor. "The only thing I want from you Jack is a fair jig in the morning breeze."
Suddenly Covenant took a shaky step forward, his cane lashing out to catch Jack a telling blow to the side of his head. Lights flickered in front of Jack's eyes as he reeled backwards. Behind him, someone aimed a savage kick at his legs, sending him tumbling to the floor, then something hard cracked into Jack's ribs, whooshing the air from his lungs. For a moment he lost consciousness, blackness taking him hostage.
As his mind began to work once more, Jack was aware of hands under his shoulders and his feet dragging on the rough planks. A creaking from ahead indicated a door being opened. Jack opened his eyes warily and dropped his gaze. Below him gaped an open trap door, through which Jack could make out the faint sound of water sloshing against the hull.
"Enjoy your stay, Captain Sparrow," a coarse voice chortled from above him, then the hands let him go and he tumbled into the bilge with a splash.