Chapter Twelve

Norrington set out, and had been following Tia-Dalma's exact instructions when he had his first encounter…

Everyone was asleep and he was sitting at his desk in the Captains Cabin, mapping out the way he needed to go. He dropped his quill and slammed down his bottle of ale in annoyance.

He bent down and picked up the quill and continued to write. He reached out for the ale, but it was gone. He looked up and the bottle was on the other side of the desk.

"Now that's strange.." he muttered. He picked it up, took a swig, and began writing again; setting the bottle down.

The same thing happened about five more times before it stopped completely.

Just as Norrington had settled himself in, he heard the cry, "Man overboard!"

He stood up quickly and ran out to the deck of the ship.

There was no one to be seen.

He shook his head and went back into his cabin. His ale was tipped over onto all the work he had done.

"You know, I don't really appreciate this. Whoever you are, it's not funny." Norrington growled.

"You know, I don't really appreciate the fact that you got me killed." said a voice from the shadowy corner.

"Who are you?" Norrington asked.

"Why, Captain Jack Sparrow of course." he answered, stepping from the shadows.

"H-how did you get in here?" Norrington asked, drawing his sword. Jack decided to humor him, and also took out his sword. It would be quite amusing to make himself seem corporeal for a while.

"Lousy crew." he answered simply. Norrington stood up tall, and pointed the tip of the sword to Jack's throat.

"I highly doubt that."

Jack hit Norrington's sword away, and they began to fight. It took a lot of strength on Jack's part not to let Norringtons sword go straight through his own, but it was worth it.

Finally, he decided to finish up. He acted unprepared, and Norrington's sword went straight through his heart. Jack looked up at him, eyes wide in horror.

"Y-you killed me!" he stuttered, before falling to the ground. Norrington looked horrified as well, and began pacing the room.

"I need something to drink. How did I just kill Captain Jack Sparrow?" he stuttered, continuing to pace around the cabin. He took a swig of his ale and turned to face the impending situation.

Which just so happened to have disappeared in the past three seconds. He looked around for Jack's body, it couldn't have gotten too far…

He turned around to see Jack's face about two inches from his own.

"Boo."

In spite of himself, Norrington jumped at the sight. It wasn't the Jack he had just seen. This Jack was horrifying. Chunks of skin were missing and there was blood everywhere. His clothes were torn and he had gaping holes going the whole way through his body.

"W-what? I-I mean…well…" Norrington searched for something to say.

"This is your fault you know." Jack said, matter-of-factly. He sat down on Norrington's desk, his blood dripping all over the maps.

"How?" Norrington asked.

"Because you took my leverage. I needed that heart!" Jack exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air. Blood splattered onto Norrington's face, and he did his best not to gag.

"So what happened?" he waited for Jack to continue.

"Well, that was all I had going for me. So I got eaten by that Kraken. Anyway, I'll be needing that heart back…"

"I don't have it."

"Well, then who does?" Jack exclaimed, exasperated.

"How did you find out that I had it?" Norrington asked.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Jack retorted.

"You could use the same thing to find out who has it now." Norrington pointed out.

"That's not a bad idea. But it takes a lot of strength, and is potentially painful for you. So you could just tell me, and get it over with…or we could do this the hard way." Jack explained.

"And what, exactly, is the hard way?" Norrington asked. Jack sighed,

"Believe me, you do not want to know."

"Well, I suppose it's the hard way then, because I'm not telling." Norrington said firmly.

"That's unfortunate." Jack sighed, before disappearing. Norrington looked around. There was no sign that he was ever there. No blood on the maps, no blood on his sword, no blood anywhere. He shook his head and decided that it would be best to get some sleep. Clearly, he had too much to drink.

.x.

The tossing and turning caused by the ocean didn't help Norrington's situation. He was sea-sick to begin with, and had awoken in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. It felt as if there was something crawling underneath his skin.

He clawed at his skin and moaned and cried, but nothing would relieve him of his condition. He had heard of many sicknesses of the seas, but this was like none other. He tried to think, but something seemed to be blocking his memories. He coughed and blood spurted out his mouth.

When he reached up to wipe it away, there was nothing there. His head pounded so badly, it was easy to believe that someone was hammering it. Anyone who would have seen him would have thought him to be insane.

The sounds of ocean waves were filling his head, making him feel deaf. His ears felt like they had burst and blood was running out them. It felt like there was blood everywhere. Finally, the pain left him unconscious.

"Thanks mate." Jack whispered, to the comatose man before disappearing.

.x.

The next morning, Norrington awoke to nothing but a slight headache.

"It must've been a dream." he told himself. He went out on deck and the crew was working as usual, following the instructions of the second-in-command. He nodded his approval to them all before returning to his cabin.

When he got in there, he was amazed to see Jack Sparrow, looking completely normal, sitting at his desk, doodling on a map.

"You again?" he asked.

"How did you sleep last night?" Jack countered.

"Horribly." Norrington admitted.

"Good." Jack nodded. Norrington shot him a dirty look. "So, you're looking for the Flying Dutchman?"

"Yes…"

"I can help you out there. You're going to make a deal with Davey Jones. You'll give him back his heart if he gives the Royal Navy control over the ocean, correct?" Jack asked.

"How do you know this?" Norrington asked suspiciously.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Jack repeated the words from the night before.

"Would you just go away?" Norrington pleaded, letting down his guard.

"I suppose. I do have other people to haunt." Jack concurred. "Well, you're doing a good job. On the right track and all."

And like that, he was gone.

"Now ghosts. Why is there always some new thing like this? Life just can't be normal. Not for me. Of course not. I should have been a blacksmith." Norrington grumbled, rubbing his temples.