Disclaimer: I do not own PotC - but you knew that.

Summary: Jack ponders his existance, and tries to figure out just what he's done wrong. And why everything comes back to AnaMaria.

Deepest Circle of Hell

So this was hell?

It was said that the deepest circle of hell was reserved for betrayers and mutineers. In which case just what was he doing here?

Had he betrayed anyone? Was he a mutineer?

Only if one described betrayal and mutineer in the same category of saving your own skin. It hadn't involved hurting anyone else, or anyone else loosing their lives. Not as far as he was aware. But he had to escape, that place was eating him alive, swallowing him whole, consuming every part of his being.

Upon meeting Bootstrap Bill Turner he had thought that maybe things would change. With Bill's help he was able to get out, able to leave what he had thought of as hell for near eighteen years. And so the piracy began. Jonathan Bird became Jack Sparrow, and that was it. The youngest of the Bird clan was dead and no one knew where he had gone. It was thought he drowned one day. Little grief was paid for the loose, there was another six of the Bird's to turn to.

Bill had shown Jack so much. The sea, the freedom she symbolised, Singapore, the whores. It was all new to the young man. But in time it all became familiar. And Bill became more and more like the father Jack had never had, then like the cousin who always visited, then it was a brother, before long Jack Sparrow and Bill Turner were inseparable. And that was accepted by almost every pirate they ever came across.

Turner and Sparrow were a formable team. They knew each other inside and out. Each could anticipate the other's move before it was made, interpret what each was thinking and understand even the simplest of indifferences that others wouldn't ever notice. It got them out of a lot of tight spots.

Turner could tell when something was amiss in Jack's character; he knew when something was bothering the slightly younger man. Turner knew when Jack was concocting an insane plan with ease and could iron out the details that Jack couldn't quite determine.

Sparrow could tell when something was bothering Bill, when some act of piracy just wouldn't leave the other man's conscience. Jack could also ease that conscience, either through lies that were believable or by comforting Bill and offering some steadfast advice that he had gained prematurely to his time.

But things didn't turn out all sunshine and roses did it. And now there was no Sparrow and Turner, there was just Sparrow. Jack had never got over the mutiny, and then he had never got over the guilt.

He was ashamed to have thought that Bill would've gone along with the whole thing. Pintel had told him later that Bill had been knocked out by Barbossa and left locked in the first mate's quarters. That was the only thing that Bill had ever been wrong about.

After an almost fatal battle with another ship Bill had convinced Jack that Barbossa would be a better first mate than he was. Bill had blamed himself entirely for the shot that reached Jack, the shot that punctured his stomach causing serious blood-loss and a delusional captain for nearly two weeks.

Jack winced slightly rubbing the offending scar on his stomach. Staring out at the horizon Jack gentle caressed his ship. It didn't feel like her anymore. There was too much blood spilt over her. Jack would never give up the Black Pearl for anyone, but she just didn't feel the same. There was no hum from her, she didn't respond the same to his touch, she was still tainted from Barbossa and the conflict that had caused.

"Jack, are you coming to eat?" Jack looked down at AnaMaria who stood in front of the helm on the lower deck.

"Not just now. Maybe later luv." The woman nodded and smiled, accepting it at face value. Jack seldom missed a meal so Ana wouldn't make a big deal of it. Jack felt the pain of more guilt when he thought of her.

She was a first mate he would never have to doubt. For all her cursing and public shows of her malice for him Jack knew what was really there. He would never have to fear a mutiny from her, never have to worry about conspiracy or apprehension on where she stood during a battle. For after a night of unrestrained passion that very woman would whisper her love and nuzzle close to Jack's warm chest while he rubbed her back and promised her the world.

It was another pain to his heart. She loved him, her heart lay in his hands while he was undeserving even of her affection. He held her back, he was keeping her from what she was made for, her destiny was put on hold because he was there, in her life, offering her things he would never be able to give her.

After a year of sailing they had suffered a blow during a particularly brutal storm, the Pearl was caught in the waves, the wind pulling at the rigging and freeing the sails. Barrels of gunpowder were thrown from their confinement and knocked both Jack and Ana from the ship. They swam away from the ship, knowing that had they tried to board her during the storm it may prove damaging or fatal to their health. And so they made way to an island. They swam through the night and Jack slept till dawn, when Ana woke him, crying on his chest. Jack had been unsure to the reason behind her tears, but it became apparent in her relief at his awakening.

"Jack? Oh God I thought you had died!" Strong arms wrapped around his neck, her head burying in his shoulder while she continued to shed her tears.

"Hush luv, I'm fine. I guess I'm just a heavy sleeper." Jack knew it was a lie, he was a very light sleeper, years as a pirate sleeping on the streets of port towns did that to a man. Never knowing when a battle would break out, or when a daring escape from the navy would have to be made. A man learned to role with the punches, Jack couldn't sleep very long for any period of time anymore. It helped when he sailed, everything that he was about was survival.

"I was so worried. I thought maybe you had…you had drowned. That you just got washed up here and that I had lost you. I never thought that I would feel like this." Jack held Ana as she cried into his hair. It was very uncharacteristic of the woman. Usually she would brush off near death experiences, during battles if there was blood spilled she would treat it as a serious matter, her emotions never shinning through.

"Takes more than a storm to beat me Ana. No worries luv." Ana sniffled and looked up at him.

"You don't know, do you?" She was staring at him, her dark eyes burning into his. Her hand ran over her face. Her skin unnaturally soft despite life on the waters. Jack couldn't form words so he shook his head. Although he didn't even know what she was referring to it really didn't matter. He wanted to know whatever it was that he didn't know.

Instead of answering him she leaned down slowly, as if she were unsure or gauging his reaction. Their lips met in a soft and unpretentious kiss. It was a quick touch of their lips before Ana pulled back hastily, watching Jack's face for any change in expression. Jack just watched her, she looked as if she may break, her face slightly blotched from her earlier tears, that in its self brought a pang to Jack. She never cried, she was the tough woman, the fierce woman who refused to be seen as anything less than a pirate. She would do twice the amount of work to prove her worth if that was what it took. She demanded respect and she was given it easily. AnaMaria was easily the best pirate Jack had on his ship and by far the strongest woman he had ever met.

Slowly but surely Jack lifted his hand to her cheek before pulling her to him for a more passionate kiss, she sighed in content before falling to the sand with him, her arms around his neck once more as she returned the kiss with craving. Her response to him showed him and told him everything he needed to know at that point. She gave herself to him that night, and he gave her a little of himself he had never given to anyone.

It took her a while before she told him. One night on the Pearl about a month after the storm she came up on deck to see him. Jack had been the only person above deck at the point; later he would find out that she had planned it. Ana had wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed his neck before whispering into his ear.

"I love you Captain Jack Sparrow." Jack knew she didn't expect a profession of true love that was undying and never ending from him. It wasn't like him. AnaMaria knew how Jack was about expressing his emotions. He could only just show he cared for the wellbeing of those on his ship. It took an attack from the Navy to force the truth of Ana and Jack budding relationship out to the open.

The sound of cannon fire rung loud in everyone's ears. Gunpowder, smoke and the smell of blood was choking in the air. Shouts and cries sounded through the blasts and pirates and redcoats alike fell to the deck and the sea in a mist of pain and death. Jack had tried to avoid contention with the navy ships for a while now. If for no reason other than to keep from confrontation with Commodore Norrington. If Jack was responsible for the death of British Navel Officers it was unlikely Miss Swann would be able to play on his emotions to save his neck. And so Jack had stuck to looting and pillaging with little blood shed. But the HMS Celestial had been more than relentless in determining the attack upon the Black Pearl was returned.

And so fire had to be returned and battle ensued. After almost an hour of battle the HMS left and the Black Pearl sat proud in the fog of the conflict. The fog eventually cleared from the Pearl and Jack had been able to assess the damage to his ship. But the damage had not alarmed him. What alarmed him was the lack of a certain dark skinned pirate complaining about rash actions and annoying navy men. Looking around Jack couldn't even spot her or hear her voice through the fog. She should be shouting orders, finding Jack to be informed of his course in action. But she was no where to be seen or heard.

"Ana!" There was no reply to his call. "Gibbs!" The older pirate made his way to Jack's side quickly, pushing past Cotton and Crimp to get to the captain.

"Aye sir?" "Where's Ana?" Gibbs looked around and Jack resisted the urge to grab the man, slap him and scream at him. As if Jack hadn't already looked.

"Dunno Jack. Last I saw she was fending off two of those redcoats." Jack nearly growled and pushed past Gibbs, Cotton and Crimp to get to the lower deck. The fog hindered his search more than he would have thought. There was no sign of the pirate female on deck and Jack began to panic. He looked over the side of the ship and knew that had she fallen over there would be no chance in him finding her.

"What you lost?" A voice from beside him caused him to turn swiftly, almost knocking two of the crew over the side.

She stood in front of him, blood smeared on her face and hair sticking to it, a small smirk plastered on her features.

"Two of them tried to go down below, bloody blighters hit me in the nose. I think it's broken." Jack shook his head before pulling the woman into a tight embrace. Not caring at all for anyone seeing.

"And here was me thinking you'd gone and got yerself killed." Jack muttered against her soft skin.

"I knew you cared." She said lightly. He pulled back and kissed her lips delicately, mumbling from the crew falling on deaf ears.

"Of course I care." He held her gaze and something sparked in her eyes. A light hope that seemed to burn for him to say more, even if she knew it was too hard for him at this stage. Loving someone could mean pain and lose and weakness. But she would wait, he knew she would. And one day he hoped he could give her what she really wanted.

Yes, this was hell. He was always in hell. The mind of Jack Sparrow was far from intact. Rum and heat had caused an incurable wackiness to reside there and it would not be removed. Hell was where he had no control, where others be it Barbossa, Norrington, his father, Bill anyone who had wronged him or he had wronged, they had the control in hell and guilt and pain over ruled any rational thought the pirate could form.

Why did hell have to be so close to home? Why did hell have to be part of him? A part in which he would never be free. If hell had been his foot, he would cut it off, had it been his eye, he would remove it. But his mind was something that ruled his body.

No matter what happened or when and how, he was always in hell. A constant reminder of all his faults and failures, of which he had plenty.

Jack sighed and turned, feeling a presence at his back. Standing there was Cotton, the mute. He was one of the only people who sailed the Pearl. Cotton, AnaMaria and himself, occasionally Gibbs would take the role, but only when the other three were incapable of doing so.

Jack handed over the helm, heading to his cabin instead of going to the galley. He lay on his bed, his mind once more wandering back. He didn't want to have to see where it took him. He didn't want to know what memory would be relived this time. When silence over came him and peace seemed near the hell would start. The mind would hunt for the most tortuous images and memories it could and replay them over and over in his mind.

His home, his leaving, first capture by the Spanish, East India, Barbossa's mutiny, the rum runners, first time back home since leaving, Ireland, second capture by the Spanish, meeting Ana. Wait why was that a bad thing?

Oh yes, her first husband almost killed him. Once more the offending scar was rubbed. That had been a most painful memory. Times hadn't changed much. Although it hadn't been that painful at the time. The man had been very confrontational.

The tavern was growing in custom and Captain Jack Sparrow found himself considering leaving. It wasn't as if he didn't like crowds, the bigger the crowd the easier to get lost in it. This crowd however was most uncomfortable. Mainly because of the profession of most inhabitants. Port Ruba was known by all for its remarkable ale, but even more so for its astounding pirate hunters. They were widely known and widely feared by most pirates. The smart ones that was. Now Jack wasn't the fastest ship in the fleet but he wasn't exactly the slowest. He knew better than most just when to cut his loses. Now would be an exceptional time to leave the tavern. With his pride and neck unbroken.

But the fates seemed to have different ideas. Just as Jack was about to leave in walked three pirate hunters and Navy officers along with a pretty little lady on each of their arm. Now Jack Sparrow wasn't the type to be pulled in by any pretty face. Despite his reputation as somewhat of a womaniser Jack didn't waste his time. If there was no thrill in the chase then there was no point.

This woman however looked to be worth every minute of the hunt. Her dark eyes smouldering and exciting, laced with mystery and danger. She was extremely well built, her body fitting every mans dream with its elegance. Although Jack wasn't much for the high life, this woman could work it with her figure in the very fitting dress that just hugged her curves in all the right places.

As he made his way to the door their eyes met and she smiled lightly. Her eyes sparkled with mischievous delight.

It was entirely possible that he let his eyes linger one moment too long.

It was also possible that the man accompanying this fine young woman was looking for any sort of conflict with any sort of person. And so the chaos began.

"You got a problem son?" A thick accent rang in his voice and Jack just couldn't place it. Probably from the new land, the woman looked to be of African descent, her skin was a chocolate colour, adding depth to those pools of chestnut.

"Sorry?" Jack enquired, playing stupid.

"Ah said, you got a problem son?" Yes, definitely from the new land…what was it they called that place? Oh who cares?

"No. You?" Jack asked, defiant as always.

"You ain't challenging my, are ya?" Jack raised his eyebrows. Was this man serious, why did everything have to be a question?

"Why?" There was a hush over the tavern by now and Jack knew that he had totally be spotted and possibly recognised. Even without the Pearl he was feared, and rightfully so.

"Now you're just being down right disrespectful. You know what we do to disrespectful boys where ah'm from? We beat 'em." The male emphasised his point by punching his own hand with his fist. Jack was quickly getting tired of this. With every moment wasted on this idiot there was some good drink going to waste.

"Well it's just as well this isn't where you come from and that I'm not a 'boy'. Ain't it mate." The other man's face began to turn a very unflattering shade of red.

All this because Jack found this stunning dark skinned woman attractive? Was the world going mad?

"Why ah autta." Autta, where in the hell did that word come from? Was it even a word? Jack may not be the most well spoken person alive but this was pushing it.

"Hey, Johnson, you better just calm down. That there be Jack Sparrow," Jack sighed and muttered the Captain under his breath, "you don't wanna go starting nuttin' with him." 'Johnson' as he was called paid absolutely no attention to this other person and started ranting and raving about respect and beatings in a loud voice. Jack rolled his eyes before turning his back and walking out of the tavern.

There was no point in wasting good drinking time on someone so obnoxious as that. He put Jimmy, the harbour master at Tortuga to shame on the illiterate scale.

And so Jack almost drank himself to death that night before stumbling down the road, as graceful as ever, towards the dock and his 'borrowed' ship in which he picked up from Spain.

"Well, well, well. If it ain't the infamous Jack Sparrow." Jack turned to the voice.

"Captain Jack Sparrow actually." Johnson, along with the dark skinned woman and another woman and man, stood about three yards up the street from Jack.

"Well, Mr Sparrow, I think you owe me an apology for earlier on." Johnson released the woman and sauntered down the street, losing his balance at least twice.

"Alright I am very sorry you are such a pompous idiot with the literacy level of a street monger. Happy?" Jack turned to walk away when there was a blow to his neck.

"Like ah said, boy, you can be respectful, or get a beating." Well that threw that approach out the window.

Jack got to his feet and returned the blow, only Jack's punch connected solidly with Johnson's nose, shattering the bone completely. Jack noticed that the other male had passed out while the woman who had been beside him had ventured back into the tavern. The dark skinned woman however stood a few feet away in a nearby door way, watching. Not helping or looking in any way concerned, just watching.

Jack shook his head, sighing loudly and starting to turn when a voice caught his attention.

"WATCH!" Jack turned back just in time for the dagger to pierce the left of his stomach. Wasting no time on pain Jack brought the palm of his hand to Johnson's nose before grabbing the mans head and twisting sharply. Johnson fell to the ground dead and Jack stumbled back to lean against a wall.

The woman made her way quickly to the fallen man and looked him over. Jack pulled the dagger slowly from his body, wincing as the blade grated against his hipbone. His sharp intake of breath caught the woman's attention.

"You killed him."

"Aye."

"He was my husband."

"Sorry luv. Self defence and what not." Jack may have said sorry but he sure as hell didn't mean it. A woman like her could probably do so much better.

"Don't be sorry. You've just saved me so much hassle." Jack was surprised at her response to the death of her husband, or rather the murder of her husband.

"Got a name luv?" Jack asked through gritted teeth. The woman came to his side and offered her support, which he took with the mutter of 'thank you'.

"AnaMaria"

That had been a strange week to begin with and ended on a stranger note. Sailing from Port Ruba that night with the dark and mysterious AnaMaria as his only crew. She had said it would be smarter if they left that night, there would be less explaining for her to do when the body of her dead husband was found. So Jack took her to Tortuga where she left, he didn't see her again for another year. That was when he stole her boat.

"Reminiscing?" Jack looked over to the door where the woman he had met long before stood, her hair draped over her shoulders.

"Thinking." Jack answered.

"Careful. You might hurt yourself." Ana noticed that Jack was rubbing at the scar Johnson had delivered before his death and she smiled.

"Who would have imagined it?" She said idly. She slowly walked over to the bed, climbing over him and moving his hand and shirt away so she could kiss at the exposed flesh of his stomach. It was a benefit of wearing breeches that slung low on his body, they were held up barely by his belt. Ana ran her tongue over Jack's scar and the pirate smiled while watching her. She grinned seductively before crawling over his body to hover above him. Her lips slowly descended to his and she took control of his mouth, her tongue playing the dominating role over his own.

If this was hell, he was glad he had a place in it.

- - - -

Reviews are nice.