Disclaimer: It's only a fanfiction, mate.
A/N: No note from me this time. Just read on.
The sky and the sea spun - there was no up, there was no down, there was nothing but that thing holding her around her waist, crushing her slowly, crushing her even as it shook her back and forth and back and forth… She had no breath left to scream.
The sword was gone. It had flown from her grip, lost to her. She could not reach her dagger, either. But she kicked and struggled nonetheless. Desperate to live - desperate not to die. The Kraken brought her down, down, down to the sea, then shot back up into the air, snaking through the rigging.
Squirrel clawed at the monster's arm, digging her fingers deep into the slimy foul skin. She knew nothing, saw nothing, could do nothing. The Kraken did not let go - it continued to shake her, flick her between sea and sky. It showed her the rigging, the faces of dying men: frightened dying men. It played with her, showing her what fear was, showing her every inch of what it had done to the Pearl and telling her what it would do. Soon, though, it would stop its toying, and take Squirrel to the sea. And there, she would die.
NO! Squirrel clawed with both hands, nails going as deep as they could. LET ME GO! Fear won over disgust, and she bit down into the Kraken's skin. She fought tooth and claw, like an animal. The taste of the Kraken was foul - salt and slime and rotting fish and corpses - but she bit into it, fighting a rising gorge, scoring the tentacle with her teeth and her nails, drawing blood and causing the beast pain.
The Kraken shook her, the limb that held her tight trembling. Squirrel dug her fingers into open wound, pulling and stabbing at whatever she could reach under the Kraken's toughened hide. Her bloody hand stung, burned by the Kraken's blood and slime.
And then she was flying.
The Kraken had thrown her, irritated by the fact its toy was not playing by its rules. Squirrel remembered the man that had fallen from the rigging - like a fruit - and she twisted herself in mid-air. A piece of torn rigging was her salvation as two tentacles slammed underneath her, missing her by bare inches. But she grabbed the rope in her torn hand. She screamed as she slid downwards, losing more skin and flesh to the bite of the twisted hemp. Too much in pain, her grip bloody, she slipped and fell. No Kraken arm caught her this time. She fell - and landed - of her own accord.
She landed heavily, landing on her stomach in the arms of a man. Gasping from fear and from the screaming, she struggled to pull herself up. Someone had caught her, someone had broken her fall. Squirrel pulled herself up to her elbows, coughing and gasping, trying to see who lay beneath her. She didn't recognise him.
His face was a mask, a smooth canvas, a rosette of blank and wrinkled flesh. He was dead. His face had been ripped clean off.
With a hiccup of fear, Squirrel fell back, crawling back over the deck, away from the dead man.
Something large and merciless crushed out of the blue, sweeping Squirrel aside like a rag doll. She rolled aside before she was pushed overboard, but the tentacle's heartless grip snatched at her, ripping the cloak from off of her back. She looked up, her eyes wide and alarmed; her eyes followed the blue-grey silhouette that danced in the air.
Mother!
The rigging was torn and ragged, but she still leapt through it as though it were neat and tidy. She climbed through it, chasing after the whip like appendage of the Kraken. She had to get her cloak back, she had to, she had to! It was all she had of her mother! All she had!
With a scream, Squirrel leapt out into open space, her dagger in her hand. She couldn't recall drawing it. The knife dug into the flesh of the Kraken's arm, and the rubbery tentacle shuddered under Squirrel as she clawed and climbed, reaching for her cloak. She stabbed again and again, using each knife thrust to pull her further up the Kraken's thieving limb.
She screamed and screamed as she stabbed and climbed and reached. The tentacle whipped around in the air, trying to throw off the annoying parasite. But Squirrel didn't want to leave. Resigned to the pain, the Kraken's tentacle curled around the mast, forcing Squirrel to circle, to scramble around, doubling back. But her feet were light and sure, and she did not waver.
As soon as her hand closed around the cloak, her senses returned. What am I doing? It's just a cloak! With a scream of realisation of the danger she'd put herself on, she leapt free; the Kraken's tentacle crushed itself nonchalantly down the mast, shattering the crank. Squirrel would have been likewise shattered if she'd remained.
With the cloak clutched in her right hand and her dagger in her bloody left, Squirrel fell.
She lay there for a second, maybe more, trying to get back her strength and her breath. Her body ached, sore from her landing, sore from the Kraken's flailing, sore from her attempts to fight off the Kraken… Squirrel stabbed her dagger into the wood of the Pearl - wincing at the pain shooting up through her hand - and pushed herself to her knees. She looked around, reeling and disoriented. Stupid, she thought. Then, with a smile, At least I got it back.
Squirrel looked up, and saw the tentacles closing around the net of kegs and barrels. Will hung upside-down from the net, helpless. The Kraken was closing in on him, and he couldn't escape. He was trapped.
"WILL!" She struggled to her feet, but her strength was gone. She groaned, and staggered, leaning against the broken mast. I have to help Will!
"Shoot!" Will shouted, looking Squirrel's way. "Elizabeth!"
Squirrel looked over her shoulder. Elizabeth stood behind her, proud and golden, the musket in her hand. In her eyes was horrified and pained indecision… and small wonder. If she fired, she'd kill her brave young love. But if she didn't fire, everyone would die.
Squirrel groaned again, pushing herself upright. "Right," she said, steeling herself. And she ran back into the fray.
"No!" Will shouted at her. "Get back!"
Squirrel ignored him. If they were going to survive the Kraken, then the Kraken had to take the bait. The Kraken had to die! Squirrel stabbed at the Kraken's tentacles, drawing them to Will. Drawing them to the net full of explosives. Come on, you bastards. Follow the bitch with the knife.
"Get back!"
"Come on!" She shouted at the tentacles. "Follow me, you sodding bastards! I'm over here!" She stabbed downwards at a tentacle, ran; twirled the blade in her bloody hand, stabbed up, ran; the blade twirled, slick with Kraken blood on the blade and her own blood on the handle.
"Squirrel!"
Squirrel looked up at Will. The way he called her name was enough to draw her attention.
"Get away!" He shouted. He had a dagger in his hand, and was sawing at the ropes which held him prisoner. "You'll be killed!"
Squirrel didn't get the chance to answer. One of the Kraken's arms rose behind her. Squirrel screamed, stabbing upwards, slicing open the tentacle's underbelly. She moved, quickly, before it fell on her. And fall it did, crushing the deck with force.
Across the deck came Elizabeth's scream. Squirrel went to answer it, but could not. She stood in the heart of a nest of writhing snakes. Right below the explosives. She'd completed her task to draw the Kraken to Will, and now she was trapped.
"Will!" She screamed, panic rising in her once again. "Help me!" She slashed and stabbed with her glorified butter knife.
"Run!"
Squirrel ran. Cloak in one hand and dagger in the other, Squirrel ran. A tentacle slid across her path. Squirrel screamed at it, stabbed it and again and again and again and again until it reared out of her way. She rolled under it, picked herself up, and kept running.
"Over here, lass!" Gibbs called, motioning her over. She moved to go to him, but something made her pause.
Squirrel stopped, looking over her shoulder. Will jumped free of the net, and the tentacles gathered up the gift they had been left, like Trojans accepting a wooden horse.
Squirrel grinned darkly. No, you're dead.
Above the screams and groans of the ship as she broke and splintered, Squirrel heard a gunshot, loud and clear. She heard the bullet sing through the air - once again, time seemed to slow, for she could swear she saw the bullet travelling at a leisurely pace towards the barrels…
Fire blossomed like a deadly flower. Squirrel screamed, falling to her knees, hands before her face to protect herself from the searing heat. She smelled the smoke - sweet from the rum, smoky from the powder and - she grinned, her mouth watering - the smell of seared seafood.
Something old and ancient, something large and powerful, gave a deep bellowing moan which rocked the timbers of the Pearl. That cry of pain wiped the smile from Squirrel's face. Chunks of burnt tentacle thudded to the deck, while other tentacles - some looking skeletal, others merely burned - slid hissing back into the sea.
Squirrel rose to her feet, stunned, the adrenaline in her veins gone. Her arms and legs were shaking, spasming of their own accord from weariness and strain. She sheathed her dagger slowly, not wanting to accidentally cut herself. Her left hand stung like the devil, but the pain was reassuring, in a way. She slowly closed her hand, her palm and fingers smarting and bloody.
I'm… alive.
Squirrel looked about the deck, dazed and uncomprehending. Marty, Will, Gibbs and Cotton all lived, and were peering over the side. Pintel and Ragetti appeared out from their hiding place, looking about warily. Elizabeth stood on the foredeck with…
Squirrel's heart started all over again. Jack?
He held the musket. He was the one who had fired the shot. He was the one who had saved them all.
Squirrel choked, her eyes filling with tears. Jack!
All was forgotten as Squirrel flew to him. Nothing else mattered, but that he was here. He'd come back. He'd come back! She ran to Jack and closed her arms around him, clinging to him as though to assure herself that he was real, he was really here, he really was a good man. She couldn't speak. She was crying too hard. I thought you were a coward. I thought you were a liar. I thought… Squirrel cried into his chest. I was wrong. You came back. Jack slowly closed his arms around Squirrel, embracing her in return. Squirrel felt her heart sing, felt her mood soar. All fatigue was forgotten, all that was past was forgotten.
He was here, and he held her in his arms.
I've never been so happy to be wrong about you, Jack Sparrow!
"Cap… tain…" Gibbs barked, the word starting out authoritative before fading into awkwardness. After a small pause, Gibbs cleared his throat, tried again. "Captain, orders?"
Squirrel felt Jack smooth down her hair, and looked up to him, eyes shining with adoration. He smiled at her, but his smile was sad. Squirrel's elation dipped slightly when she saw the look in his eyes. There was hope there, but a terrible hope. A hope at a great cost. Jack looked deep into and held Squirrel's gaze for as long as he could, before finally having to look away. Gingerly, he freed himself from her arms and turned away from her. "Abandon ship," he murmured. "Into the longboat."
Squirrel's tears stopped flowing, though they still rolled down her face. "Jack…" She reached for him, but her arm stopped short.
Gibbs went to his friend's side. "Jack. The Pearl…"
"She's only a ship, mate," Jack said heavily, as though each word was a death knell.
Squirrel put her palms together, then rested them against her lips, awed and saddened and touched by this sacrifice. Oh, Jack…
"He's right," Elizabeth said, eyes downcast. "We have to head for land." She looked sidelong up at Squirrel, then away, a strange twist to her mouth.
"That's a lot of open water," Pintel offered, worried.
"A lot of open water," Ragetti echoed.
"We have to try," Will said solidly. All heads turned to him. He sighed. "We can make our escape as it takes down the Pearl."
Squirrel looked to Jack. He cut a forlorn figure. He moved slow, alone, his hands brushing the timbers, the stairs, as if saying his last farewell. Squirrel felt her heart breaking for him. Jack…
You came back for us. You came back. Squirrel moved to his side.
"Abandon ship, then," Gibbs' voice came to her as though from a dream. "Abandon ship, or abandon hope."
"Jack?" Squirrel put her hand on his arm. "Jack…"
"Go on, luv," Jack said, staring down at the deck. The deck with which he used to walk with such pride and confidence. Which he used to walk as captain. "Don't have a lot of time."
When did he get so short? Squirrel wondered. She was near eye level with him. Somehow he seemed so small, nothing like the tall and charming figure of a captain he once was. Squirrel stayed with him, rubbing his arm gently in what comfort she could give him. Perhaps despair had bowed him, perhaps despair was the reason for the slump of his shoulders, draining him of his life, his charm. Squirrel wanted to reassure him, to give him the strength he needed to carry out his farewell.
"Jack."
Jack looked to her, and mustered up a small smile. He wiped away a stray tear from Squirrel's face with his calloused thumb. "Go on, luv. I won't be long."
Squirrel kissed him.
Fate, destiny, or whatever it is known, has a strange way of being cyclic. This time, there was no crew to stumble or curse; there were no waves against the hull, and all seabirds had fled. There was no song playing in her head. There was no fear, no memory of the past. Shadows meant nothing. Instinct was pushing her in the right direction this time. Someone may have interfered, but who could say? Whatever the case, it was a quirk, a cruel trick.
Jack turned his head to look out over his ship, and Squirrel's kiss missed its mark.
Squirrel felt her heart sink, feeling foolish at having missed her chance. Her kiss lingered as long as it could on his cheek; she felt the roughness of his beard, smelled the salt in his hair, felt her eyelashes brushing against his skin. But as she drew away with a small sigh, Jack turned back to look at her, something like surprise in his eyes. Surprise which slowly moulded to a knowing smile. Something of the old Jack Sparrow - his charm, his unpredictability, his maddening self-assurance and his almost irritating ego - sparkled in his eyes. It was as if he'd been proved right.
Jack put his hand on Squirrel's head, ruffling her hair like she was a child. "G'wan," he pointed with his chin. "Boat. Go." But he didn't take his eyes from her.
"Aye, captain," Squirrel said softly, making a small curtsy before turning away. She knew she was blushing but didn't care. She felt light-headed. She could fly if she wanted to.
Gibbs looked at her curiously as she approached. "Well, Miss Grey…" He smiled a little, not knowing what to say. Marty and Cotton wore similar expressions of polite but unconcealed amazement.
Squirrel smiled, reading them plain. You all had no idea. You had no idea I loved Jack.
Mister Cotton's parrot danced on his owner's shoulder. "Ship in the offing," it said, somewhat cheekily, and bobbed its coloured head. Mister Cotton glanced at his 'voice', embarrassed.
Squirrel just smiled, not knowing what had been said. She turned back to Gibbs. "Anything we need to bring with us?"
Gibbs nodded, pointing over his shoulder with him thumb. "There's a sack there, just by the stairs."
Squirrel went to get it. Though her hand still bled, and her entire body was sore and tired, she didn't care. The sun was bright and the day was beautiful. And if she could fly, she could certainly pick up a sack. Gingerly, she hoisted it under her arm, holding it firm, her cloak still held in her right hand.
By the time she returned with the sack, Marty and Cotton were already in the boat - along with Pintel and Ragetti - and Will was slowly descending. Will caught Squirrel's eye, and paused halfway down the ladder. He smiled warmly, as if in congratulations. Squirrel smiled back, bobbing her head, and nearly dropped the sack as she did so. She giggled at her clumsiness.
"Here," Will said, "Let me help." He stretched an arm out to her, and waited. Squirrel smiled, glad for his help, and passed the sack down to him. "Your cloak, too?" Will asked, handing the sack to Pintel to deal with. Squirrel let Will take her cloak, and he set it on the seat behind him.
And then he reached for her.
Squirrel shook her head, still smiling. "Thankyou, but I can climb down myself." She took hold of the railing, and swung herself around to the ladder. Her hand screamed at her, and the congealed blood ripped away: the rope burns started bleeding again. Squirrel bit her tongue to keep from crying out. Frowning with the pain, she examined her left hand, not knowing how bad it was. She felt Will standing on the step just below her, felt his silent concern. She looked up, determined to keep smiling, to say that she was alright.
But then she saw Jack, and she knew she'd never be alright. Never again.
Jack and Elizabeth, pushed together in a kiss, a strong passionate kiss. The way they kissed brought a dagger to Squirrel's heart, again and again and again. A green steel dagger that shattered into a thousand glassy fragments, each of them piercing her over and over and over…
She lost her footing and slipped, falling. Someone caught her, and she leaned against him, her face buried in his chest. She couldn't breathe. Her heart was loud in her ears and the beat seemed to drown out voice, sounds, sights; everything.
Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump- thump-thump-thump-thump…
But it couldn't drown out what she'd seen. What she'd seen was seared into her mind. Seared with a remorseless iron brand.
She'd been a fool. A fool to think he were more than what he appeared. A fool to think he could have been a good man. A fool to love him.
Squirrel pushed away, out of the arms of the one who comforted her. She pushed them away, staggered, falling heavily, and sat and stared at her bloody hand. There was a block of ice in the pit of her stomach, and the ice was spreading slowly, like a poison, killing the fire in her veins, ember by ember.
Thump-thump-thump-thump thump-thump-thump-thump…
The boat rocked as Gibbs climbed aboard. Squirrel looked up, her vision obscenely clear and sharp, unblurred by tears or darkness. It had been Will who had caught her. It had been Will who had held her. He sat down slowly, so slowly, then turned his dark eyes Squirrel's way, looking stunned, hurt, heartbroken.
His eyes were a mirror, and Squirrel couldn't help but see herself. She saw herself in great, great pain. The same pain suffered by William Turner.
Thump-thump thump-thump thump-thump thump-thump…
She'd left behind everything she'd known to follow a man who she loved from afar. Yet what had she gained from it? Uncertainty and pain and her heart yanked around at his chain, and now… the cold hollow emptiness of heartbreak. She knew that it would end badly. She'd known all along, but she'd been blind. Blinded by love. 'Love'.
So much for dreams.
Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump…
Squirrel closed her bloodied hand, crushing it into a fist, staring at the way the blood oozed out between her knuckles. No more panic, no more fear or trembling, just quiet and undignified anger and pain. And soon, not even that.
The longboat rocked as someone else climbed down. Squirrel looked up, ready to swing her fist into that damned pirate's smug and selfish face. But it wasn't the heartbreaker. It was Miss Swann. She sat next to Will, in front of Squirrel, and stared resolutely forward.
"Where's Jack?" Will asked. He wore a mask, cold as fine china and just as blank. He wore it well, hiding what Squirrel had seen, could still see. Squirrel waited, wanting to hear the excuse given by the governor's daughter. Wanting to hear her gloat so Squirrel could have an excuse to punch Elizabeth in the face instead. So she could feel something other than this cold emptiness…
"He volunteered to stay behind to give us all a chance," the fine lady said, her voice trembling and her face smeared with tears. She couldn't look Will in the eye, couldn't look anyone in the eye.
Elizabeth would be a poor poker player. She lied badly.
Squirrel slowly released the fist, perversely relieved by this declaration. So the captain goes down with his ship. How fitting a death. Though he deserves much less. As for the other… she deserved a knife in a back. Squirrel's right hand itched, her dagger whispered promises, and Elizabeth's back presented a fine target. Unprepared and well-deserving.
But Squirrel didn't move. She just sat, wearing a mask of her own, listening to the sound of her heart.
Thump thump, thump thump, thump thump, thump thump…
"Go!" Miss Swann shouted, and the longboat moved away, away from the Pearl, leaving her and her captain to die. Squirrel jolted with the boat's movement, but did not move herself. She sat there, at the stern of the little boat, head tilted, considering the invisible, lost in silence and thoughts-that-were-not-thoughts.
Papers covered in cryptic notes. Lavender oil. Blue fabric decorated with white thread. A cloak and a dagger. Shoes that were worn from following at the heels of a man who hadn't known she existed. Empty shells. Sunlight and moonlight.
Moonlight had favoured him, loved him like Lady Luck herself. Moonlight had loved him, been at his side like a faithful shadow. The silver of the moon loved him, loved him unconditionally, though she received nothing but the blackness of night and a few sparks from the fire in return. But then daylight had come, and moonlight was forgotten in the presence of the sun. It was sunlight to which the pirate had turned his face in the end. It was warm, frivolous sunlight which he had embraced, which he wanted. Moonlight was not to this pirate's taste - why have silver when you can have gold?
Never trust a pirate. Never.
Squirrel reached up and savagely pulled at the silver doubloon from her neck. The cord gripped at her, not wanting to let go, not wanting to be parted from her. But she pulled until the leather tie gave way, uncaring - she was too hurt, too cold, to care now. She held the coin in her open hand and stared at it.
It stared back at her, like an eye. A black iron pupil at the centre of a grey-blue iris. Squirrel crushed it in her hand, intending to throw it to the depths, along with the pirate, where it belonged. Forgotten and forsaken, like her heart. But something stayed her hand.
She slipped it instead into the empty pouch at her belt, the one that contained the nuts she ate, the food from which she gained her name. There, the coin was safe. Safe, but not forgotten. Not yet.
Thump thump. Thump thump. Thump thump. Thump thump…
The water was wide and fathomless, its surface shifting and changing like trust. Squirrel stared out over it, her face featureless, blank. Her thoughts churned and pulled and pushed at her like currents, but on the surface, she was calm. Slowly, those thoughts - like her heartbeat - calmed, cooled, froze with the ice water that was seeping through her veins.
She would not look back. She would keep her eyes turned ahead and she would wait until she was sure he was dead. But then she heard the Pearl cry out over the water, and turned. Like Lot's wife, she turned. And she froze, watching, covered by the salt of the sea.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump…
Images flashed over Squirrel's vision. A bird in a cage, singing and straining against the bars. A spinning compass. A tricorn hat. A sword. A length of beads on a string. A candle, extinguished and smoking. A small boy with greasy hair tied back under a red bandana, trapped in an alleyway, a broken sword his only defence.
The Kraken reared over the Pearl, its monstrous bunk making the ship lean and wobble uncertainly. Squirrel did not fear the Kraken now. She was beyond fear. Fear had taken her in its grip and shaken her, but it had let her go. Squirrel watched, measuring the movements of the Kraken's arms and strange carapace of a body with calculated interest. She watched at its arms entwined around the masts of the Pearl. She watched as the creature's bulk heaves up on the starboard side. She watched as the Kraken slowly toppled the Pearl, bringing it crashing down into the sea. The ice in Squirrel's veins did not abate, but she felt a cold kind of satisfaction as she watched the ship fall.
Knowing, now, for certain, that the pirate was dead.
Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump…
The figurehead - that angel at the prow of the ship - seemed to turn to Squirrel before she was drowned. The wooden eyes of the Pearl locked on to Squirrel, wild with fear and grief, and the angel's arm seemed to reach over the foam and through the tentacles, pleading: help me! But Squirrel was deaf to her pleas. The water foamed and frothed, and the angel sank, vanished, and was lost forever.
The Pearl had been her home. Now, it was nothing. A wreck at the bottom of the sea, crushed in a squid's embrace.
Thump… thump… thump… thump…
A tentacle rose up from the water, sweeping the air as the last of the Pearl vanished below the waves. It seemed to beckon to Squirrel, like a welcoming hand. Come to me, it seemed to say, Come with me.
Thump… thump…
Squirrel frowned over at the Flying Dutchman. Davy Jones stood on deck, watching as the Pearl was swept under the surface, a callous captain. Come with you?
… thump…
And then Squirrel felt… nothing.