Disclaimer: "Pirates!" "Or worse…"
A/N: One really big chapter this time. Yay for Davy Jones! … and as of today, I have seen POTC2 five times. In the movies itself. Heheh I can't wait for the DVD.
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Her hands moved restlessly, tapping the railing softly, anxiously. In the dark of night, she pushed her hood back, trying to get a clearer view of what was happening on that wrecked ship. There was no lantern now, no means of divining what was happening. Only Jack Sparrow, with his telescope, could truly see. And he was merely watching silently, as uncharacteristically still as stone.
Squirrel pulled at her hair, shaking it free from its biding, and pulling strands of it through her fingers. She tried to keep calm, but the motions of her fingers betrayed her. Was Will alright? Had he been hurt? Was he in danger? Was he even still alive?
She paused a moment, and looked over her shoulder at Jack, her hair falling free around her shoulders. Squirrel had never looked at her captain with suspicion before, but there was a first time for everything.
I can't read him.
A soft and sinuous breeze played at her hair, pulling it out in wisps. Water dripped at her feet from her sodden cloak; Squirrel pushed it off her shoulders restlessly.
Suddenly, Jack stiffened, now more alert than he had been previously. Squirrel watched him intently out of the corner of her eye, her face half-turned towards the ruined ship. Movement through the darkness ahead was hard to discern, but Jack could doubtless see what was happening. And something frightened him.
"'E's here." He whispered, almost to himself. Squirrel didn't need clarification. Davy Jones. Squirrel felt herself tensing as well, and her heart's rhythm picked up speed. She turned back to look at Jack, her mouth framing a question - a question even she didn't know. She stopped when she saw the look on his face.
Jack paused, his eye opening, then refocused the telescope. Squirrel frowned. Something's wrong.
"Jack?" Whatever she was going to ask was forgotten. She blinked once, and suddenly she and Jack did not stand alone on the deck.
Davy Jones in all his glory appeared a mere arm's-length from her. It was as though he had risen from the deck of the ship itself. He didn't see Squirrel, though he stood practically beside her - his fury was focused entirely on Jack Sparrow. Squirrel strangled a gasp at the sight of the thing… of the legend… of the man. The man who was feared second only to the Devil himself. The man who captained the Flying Dutchman and sent many men to their graves. The man who commanded the Kraken to do his bidding. The man who was more sea-creature than human being.
The man who had loved a woman so dearly that he had cut out his heart to escape the pain.
Her musings and amazement were cut short - Squirrel felt a cold scaly arm slide around her waist and a hand close around her throat. Panicked with fear, she froze, unable to speak or move. The creature who held her smelled of the sea and of decay, and it's breath in her ear was paralysing.
"Don't move," Squirrel's captor growled. Squirrel obeyed, but out of instinct rather than will. Her eyes - the only part of her that could move - focused on the two captains. Davy Jones and Jack Sparrow.
Jack surveyed the scene - his crew captured in an instant by creatures more creature than human and the captain of the Flying Dutchman scowling at him. He lowered the telescope and offered a sheepish, "Oh."
"You have a debt t' pay, Jack Sparrow," Davy Jones growled, his voice deep with a Scottish accent. "You owe me your soul." He marched forward, a wooden leg thump-thump-thumping across the deck as he marched towards Jack, who continued to back away. "You've been captain of the Black Pearl for thirteen years! That was our agreement!"
"Technically," Jack said, trying to hold his ground and protesting at the indignity of his situation, "I was only captain for two years before I was viciously mutinied upon."
Jack's plea and puppy-eyes had no effect on the tentacle-bearded Jones. "Then you were a poor captain but a captain none-the-less. Have you not always introduced yourself as," he turned a half-circle, announcing mockingly, "'Captain Jack Sparrow'?"
Davy's crew, including Squirrel's unseen captor, laughed harshly. Squirrel looked to Jack, wondering how he was going to talk his way out of this one. Wondering, if he even could.
"You already have my payment," Jack said smoothly. "One soul to serve on your ship? He's already over there!"
Squirrel drew in breath sharply, shocked. No! He and Elizabeth were going to hang for you! And you promised to help them! She would have cried out if her captor had not tightened his hold on both her waist and her throat - she fell into indignant and angry silence, blushing all the while.
Davy Jones shook his head, amused and apathetic. "One soul is not equal to another."
"Aha!" Jack grinned. "So we've established my proposal as sound in principle, and now we're just haggling over price."
Davy pulled back, amused. "Price?" He made a popping sound with his lips, clearly unimpressed.
Squirrel couldn't see Jack's face, but she could guess his expression: smug and self-assured. "How many souls do you think my soul is worth?" He said, his voice low.
Oh, please! Squirrel half-scowled. The Pelegostas thought you were a god, and now you're trying to find out how many men have to die in order to equal your death? Squirrel felt disgusted. Not only had Jack just betrayed a friend who had trusted him, he was still trying to save his own skin at any cost. This isn't you, Jack. Please. Tell me this isn't you. Tell me you have some plan to save Will and keep your promise…
Her thoughts were suddenly forgotten - Davy Jones eyes lit on Squirrel, and held her gaze. His eyes widened for a moment, clearly shocked. There was a woman aboard this ship? And there was no denying it - she'd pushed back her cloak and freed her hair. Squirrel tried to keep her gaze carefully neutral, not wanting to show fear… but…
She wasn't afraid. Not of Davy Jones. Rather, she pitied him, almost sympathised with him. You suffered for love's sake. So does Will. So do I. Almost unconsciously, Squirrel's face - still pink - was taking on an awed and respectful expression. An expression that most likely was not on the faces of the men who had ever faced Davy Jones.
The captain of the Flying Dutchman tore his eyes away from Squirrel. "One hundred souls," he said, his voice a trifle softer. His eyes flicked briefly back to Squirrel - like iron to a lodestone - then smugly back to Jack. "Three days."
Jack seemed to almost laugh. "You're a diamond, mate!" He turned away from Davy and made to swagger to the railing. "Just send the boy back over and we'll get started."
Squirrel felt her captor move from her - the hand around her throat vanished and the hand around her waist tightened like an iron band around her arm instead. Squirrel caught a glimpse of the thing which had held her - a hammerhead's skull and lobster appendages sprouting from his back - as this thing stepped in Jack's path and snarled. Jack looked alarmed, and glanced at Squirrel, who was still in the shark-man's grip. What was he looking for? Support? After what he'd just done? Squirrel said and did nothing, but her eyes held Jack's and silently accused him.
"I keep the boy," Davy Jones said calmly, his voice carrying clear across the deck, "As a good-faith payment. That means you only have ninety-nine more to go!" He laughed again, and his crew laughed with him.
Jack turned from Squirrel, marching back to Davy Jones. "Have you not met Will Turner?" He said, with the air of a man selling wares in a marketplace, "He's noble, heroic, terrific soprano…"
Squirrel rolled her eyes slightly as the shark-man's hand closed around her throat again. Joke's getting old, Jack.
Jack continued his spiel, "Worth at least four. Maybe three-and-a-half."
You're bargaining with someone else's life! Squirrel was outraged. Why don't you bet your own?
Because, a practical and unhappy voice reminded her, Jack will always keep that out of play. It's too valuable to him.
"And did I mention," Jack said, his voice a purr, "That 'e's in love?"
That had Davy's attention. His eyes snapped to Jack; he was listening intently.
"Wiv a girl," Jack said, circling like a shark, "Engaged to be married. Betrothed. Dividing him from her and her from him is only half as cruel as allowing them to be joined in holy matrimony, ey?" He stood at Davy's shoulder, waiting, waiting…
Jack's words seemed to have a strange effect on Davy. Even from where she stood, Squirrel swore she could see tears in the captain's eyes. His beautiful blue eyes - the only part of him which was still human. Everything else was of the sea. His left hand was a crab claw, his right hand was dominated by a tentacle, and his beard was nothing but; even his very clothes seemed to be sewn from kelp and held together by barnacles. But his eyes - his sky-blue eyes - retained humanity. And Squirrel couldn't help but feel another stab of pity for him.
But then that feeling passed as Davy turned his back to her and faced Jack. "I keep the boy. Ninety-nine souls." He almost looked over his shoulder, but caught himself. "But I wonder, Sparrow," Davy continued, "Can you live with this? Can you condemn an innocent man - a friend, even - to a lifetime of servitude in your name while you roam free?" He tilted his head, waiting. Jack paused, appearing lost in thought.
Squirrel looked to her captain, wide-eyed. Please, Jack. Tell me you have some plan so get Will back. Please… I know you're a good man, deep down. You wouldn't just leave him.
"Yep," Jack grinned cheerfully, not knowing the damage he'd done to Squirrel's hopes, "I'm good wiv it." He pulled a wry grin, clearly glad to be back on top of the game. "Shall we seal in blood, or…" He shrugged, gesturing to Davy's face, "Ink?"
Davy's right hand snapped out and grabbed Jack's left. Jack whimpered in alarm as Jones' tentacled finger wrapped around his wrist, snaking around the infected palm.
"Three days," Davy Jones growled. He made to leave, but his tentacle was stuck on Jack's hand. After a few tugs it came free. Coughing slightly, trying to deny the slight loss of dignity, he turned and marched across the deck towards his ship, his wooden leg striking a heartbeat-tempo as he moved.
Squirrel felt herself being released, and her captor vanishing. But she remained where she was, frozen in place but feeling no fear, watching as Davy Jones crossed the deck. He seemed to sense her eyes on him, and half-turned to look at her.
There was no pity on that face, no sympathy in those beautiful and out-of-place eyes. Just anger and bitterness. Though, none of it was directed at her… It was as though it were directed inwards instead.
Squirrel looked briefly at Jack, who was staring at his slime-covered left hand in disgust, then turned back to Davy Jones. But he was gone. It was as though he and his crew had never been there. She rushed to the railing, hands gripping the wood, staring out at the darkness. The dark looming shape of the Flying Dutchman turned, wheeling against the wind and sailing away, swallowed up by the gloom.
Squirrel felt a bitter taste in her mouth and a knot in her stomach.
"Mister Gibbs?"
"Aye, captain."
"I feel sullied and unusual…"
Squirrel hunched her shoulders against the conversation behind her, staring stubbornly out at sea. As she watched, the ship that she'd believed to be trapped on the rocks slowly started drifting. And then, slowly and without ceremony, it sank beneath the waves. As though it had been held up just long enough for the Flying Dutchman to arrive. But held up by what?
"How are we going to find ninety-nine souls in three days?"
"Fortunately, he was mum as to what condition those souls need be."
"Ah," Gibbs said, agreeing, " Tortuga."
Squirrel's hand clawed into the wood, her entire body stiffening. No! NO!
"Aye," Jack's voice was grinning and devil-may-care. " Tortuga."
Squirrel looked over her shoulder, panicked madness in her eyes. Please, no! Anything else! Anywhere else!
Gibbs moved off, shouting orders, and the crew scrambled to obey, leaving Jack Sparrow alone on the deck with the grey-cloaked girl.
The pirate grinned a gold-toothed grin at her, but that grin faded as he noticed the look on Squirrel's face. "What's wrong, luv?"
She faced him, made a few uncertain steps towards him, her eyes wide with panic. She wasn't stammering anymore, but her voice was strident and wavering, shaking with fear. "You cannot be serious! You can't go to Tortuga!"
"Course I can," Jack said easily, unconcerned. He examined his slime-covered hand again, frowning. "We need to meet ole fish-face's quota."
Squirrel's voice dropped to a hush. "Do you even remember who I am? Do you even remember…?" She bit her lip and turned away. "I came from Tortuga. I never want to go back. Ever." Her cloak curled back around her hunched shoulders, hiding her once more.
Jack looked vaguely amused. "Course I remember. I'm not stupid."
"Could have fooled me," Squirrel snapped, unable to meet his eyes. "It seems to me that only a stupid man would be willing to gamble away his friend's life."
"Or a desperate man," Jack said, his voice and gaze level.
Squirrel shook her head in denial, her voice rising once more. "No good man is ever that desperate!"
"Well," Jack shrugged, "Maybe I'm not a good man, ey?"
"Of course you're not. Not now at least. You've left Will to a fate that you were desperate to avoid, and you're turning this ship to Tortuga," Squirrel nearly screeched the word, "In order to save your slimy hide?"
"Slimy hide?" Jack's brows furrowed for a moment. "I sense you might disapprove slightly of this course of action, Miss Grey."
"Damn right I do," Squirrel said, face twisted. She turned and made to head below, but Jack's hand snapped out and grabbed her arm. "Let me go!"
"Hear me out, luv."
"No!" Squirrel pulled her arm, trying to dislodge Jack's grip, but he wouldn't let go.
His face was hard, and he looked down at her sternly. "What's gotten into you, luv?"
Squirrel stared, disgusted. "You've betrayed a friend," she snapped, "Sent him off to a fate worse than death, and now you're going to 'collect' ninety-nine more men and condemn them to that same fate!" She shook her head, "I know you're a pirate, Jack. But this… this is not…" She growled softly. "How many people have to die for you, Jack Sparrow?" She looked up at him. "You broke your promise. To both of us. Me and Will." She looked at his hand on her arm. Her right arm - the scarred and burnt arm. The scars she got from Tortuga. "Let me go."
Jack's face flexed and moved, but his hand did not; he smiled down at her. "What was in that bag you gave Will, darlin'?"
Squirrel blushed at his familiarity. "Pistachios," she said awkwardly, "Almonds, peanuts, cashews, walnuts…" She flushed a little deeper. "Just… nuts."
"Why?" Jack looked amused.
Squirrel glared at him. "Because I thought it might come in handy. And look! I was right! He's been betrayed and sent to crew a damned ship. And I doubt they'll feed him, so perhaps I've saved his life. Or what's left of it!" She tugged her arm again. "Let me go."
"You want Will to be alright, do you? Want 'im to be safe?"
There was something in Jack's tone which made Squirrel's anger build. "Only because he's your friend! Only because he saved your life! Only because there will be more deaths because of YOU if he doesn't get back! Now let go of my arm!"
Jack relented, slowly releasing her. Squirrel stared at her sleeve, disgusted. The slime from Jack's hand had soaked through her sleeve. Squirrel tugged at her sleeve, revolted, but it was stuck to her skin in the shape of Jack's hand.
"You planned this from the beginning," Squirrel said softly. "You knew Will would be captured. That's why you sent him alone." The thought was saddening, shocking. "You didn't care if he lived or died. And he was your friend. … He'd saved your life, as well. This is how you repay him?"
Jack tilted his head, looking thoughtfully at Squirrel. "You'd want to find a way to get young William back safely, then?"
"If only for your sake," Squirrel snapped.
"And what about your captain, ey?" He bent down to peer into her eyes, brown-to-brown. "Do you want to find a way to help save his life?"
Squirrel paused a moment, disoriented by the closeness of and the look in Jack's beautiful eyes.
"Because," Jack said, pulling something from his belt, "I suppose, if you want it bad enough, you could help your captain find the Chest of Davy Jones." He held the compass towards her. He looked at her, face open and eyes sincere. "What say you, luv?"
Squirrel's hand hovered slowly towards the compass. "How will this help?"
"Think about it, luv," Jack said, his voice soft. "If we have the Chest, then we have something to bargain with. We can call off Davy's beastie, and we can convince him to release young Will."
"And then you can give this to Will to save Elizabeth from the gallows."
A shadow passed over Jack's face for a moment. "Aye," he shrugged it off, "Why not? As long as we get the Chest, I don't see why not." He took Squirrel's hand in his own - how that made her redden! - and placed the compass in it, cupping her hand with both of his hands. "All you have to do," he instructed, "Is want something bad enough, and it'll show you the way." He looked at her expectantly, then opened the lid of the compass. Slowly, Jack released her hands, and stood waiting.
Squirrel watched as the dial spun and twitched. The cold metal in her hand seemed to ask her gently, What do you want? And Squirrel answered, I know what I want.
The compass point turned forward, and did not waver. Squirrel frowned at the compass, then looked up in the direction. Jack stared back at her, a slight smile on his face. Squirrel blushed and lowered her eyes quickly.
A tie to deh Jack, Tia's voice seemed to laugh at her. Squirrel frowned, embarrassed. Trust something from Tia Dalma to mock me like this.
The compass wavered. What do you want?
Squirrel took a breath and tried to steady her disordered thoughts. I want to be happy help Jack find the Chest I want Jack I want to be loved to prove I'm not useless to be happy I want to be happy with Jack for Jack to be happy for Jack to be a good man a man who keeps his promises I want to have a happy ending to live happily ever after Jack the truth love happiness finally… The compass point was buzzing, back and forth - two points, neither one clearly defined. Squirrel shook herself and focused. I want Jack to be a good man. I want to find the Chest of Davy Jones.
The compass locked. Squirrel turned it in her hands, but the direction was true.
"Well, luv?" Jack asked, trying not to sound anxious, "Anything?"
Squirrel frowned at the compass, then looked out over the sea. North-north-west. Was that where the Chest was hidden? She looked back down to the strange compass in her hands. A soft insistent voice, harsher than her conscience, whispered mockingly, But is it what you want? Or, are you just hoping that when you find it, you'll get what you want? The compass point slid back to point at Jack again.
Squirrel shook the compass, suddenly scared. No. I'm doing this because it's right. It's the right thing to do. And I know what I want.
You sure, Squirrel Grey?
"Luv?"
The compass asked once more, What do you want? And Squirrel remembered something. In Tia Dalma's hut, she'd asked me if I wanted to remember my name, and I told her 'more than anything'.
The compass point slid smoothly until it pointed south-east, and did not move again.
Squirrel looked at the compass, perplexed. South-east? There was nothing out there but open water. And Tortuga, where the answers to her past surely lay, was due west…
The mere thought of Tortuga was like a sudden splash of cold water. Jack was taking them all to Tortuga. To hire a crew which he would then sell to slavery in a fate worse than death. One of those innocent victims of Jack's failed integrity was William Turner… and, along with him, his fiancée Elizabeth Swann. Jack himself would get off scot-free, untouched by pangs of conscience. Pangs like the ones which were attacking Squirrel now.
She looked up at Jack and clicked the compass closed. Jack waited expectantly, but his expectant look slowly faded as the moments stretched past.
"I can't help you," she said softly. "Not without knowing you'll keep your promise."
"You have my word, luv," Jack said smoothly, impatiently. "Once we find the Chest we'll save Will, save Elizabeth, and then we'll be laughing. Savvy?"
Squirrel looked at the compass once more before she held it back out to Jack. "Your word's not good enough." She paused, then added a genuine, "I'm s-sorry."
Jack took the compass with a disheartened sigh. He looked at her, his eyes catching the starlight. "You sure you won't help me?"
Before she could stop them, the words were out of her mouth. "I'd do anything for you, Jack Sparrow. I'd even sail to the ends of the earth and beyond." At Jack's raised eyebrow, she ducked her head and focused on the toes of her boots. "But I can't do this if I can't trust you to keep your word."
"I see." His voice was neutral, but was there disapproval there?
Squirrel knew she was bright red, but she tried to regain a little dignity. "If you'll excuse m-me, I have to make myself s-scarce before we reach T-T-T-Tortuga."
"Don't let me stop you," Jack said, turning away, brooding under a dark cloud.
Squirrel watched him go, and flinched when the door to his cabin slammed. Then she sighed, pulled her hood back over her hair, and made to go below.
Hated or not, Tortuga was a port. And ports meant there was a chance to restock and resupply. She headed for her cabin for ink, a quill pen, and some paper. She wanted to have an inventory report ready for Gibbs before the Pearl even neared that cursed pirate den. And she tried not to think of that compass, but her thoughts turned to it anyway.
Three directions. One to Jack, her heart's desire. One to the Chest of Davy Jones, to a bargaining chip in a game where she barely knew the rules. And the third direction… unknown, but with Tia's promise of pain, and of a name remembered… Which one to take?
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A/N: Oooh! Compass-induced angst! More soon, reviews are always welcome. Also, I will update the opening chapter. I'll let you know when that's ready. Coming next - STEALTH. Yes. Indeed.