Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. The title is a book written by Friedrich Nietzsche.

Chapter 27: Beyond Good & Evil

That evening The Black Pearl docked in a nearby port. This was to be their first of many encounters with other seafaring men. Priscilla and Gretchen were terrified, being in a completely different part of town than they were used to. Gabriel was able to carry himself much more confidently.

The inn was very clean, and quiet for the most part. The group found their rooms and made themselves very comfortable before dining. But it was also then that some very bad news presented itself. Ana Maria announced that some of the ship hands had actually run away. If Jack didn't stop berating his crew soon, he wouldn't have anyone left. But to make matters worse, it was then that Gretchen discovered the Mark on her arm.

She made a complete scene in the tavern, bringing everyone's attention to her. She seemed mad, scratching at her arm and shrieking. She was hysterical, with tears falling down her cheeks as she made no attempt to form rational sentences. It ended with Jack dragging her away painfully, since he had no intention of loosening his grip on her when she screamed even louder.

Camille immediately followed him, and it was somewhat amusing to see a small parade of her, James, Priscilla, Ana Maria, and Gabriel running up the stairs after one another. It was no mystery what room the two were in, since the screaming could be heard.

"Jack, let her go!" Camille protested, being the first one inside. He was holding Gretchen by the waist, and she was trying unsuccessfully to attack him while still being hysterical. "She's frightened!"

"And she's going to alert the whole bloody town of our existence as well," he said with some difficulty. "All right, that's enough," he said, taking out his pistol and aiming at Gretchen's head. She stopped moving immediately.

Gabriel came in, followed by James. "What are you doing?" he cried. "Don't shoot my sister!"

"Gretchen!" Priscilla called, making her way into the room as well. Ana Maria came in more quietly. She was secretly enjoying this moment.

"Jack Sparrow, you put that pistol away," Camille demanded. "You are going to scare her to death, and we need her."

"Nonsense, we'll use the other Thatcher girl," Jack said calmly. At this Gretchen clapped her hand over her mouth and began sobbing. He looked at her. "Not another sound from you," he said, cocking the pistol.

"What are you doing?" Priscilla asked. "Have you gone mad? Camille, look at him! He's gone mad!" she insisted. "Gabriel, do something!"

Gabriel looked at his little sister. "Captain…" he began quietly.

"Jack, she's right," Ana Maria insisted. "As much as I'd love to see the wench suffer, you're taking this too far. Put the pistol down."

"Jack, please," Camille begged.

"If I take this away," Jack said, eyeing Gretchen carefully, "She's just going to go into hysterics again."

"No she won't, she is going to be calm…aren't you?" Camille asked slowly. Gretchen nodded, tears still flowing down her face. "You see? She'll be fine, and we'll explain the Mark to her."

Jack huffed. He and Ana Maria shared the same opinion of Gretchen. He liked being in control. He was almost shaking with rage now, and it had taken all of his energy not to pull the trigger just then and delight in the "tragedy". He tried to hide his grin, but Camille caught it.

He reluctantly put the pistol away, and Gretchen fainted. Camille and Gabriel rushed forward to catch her, as Ana Maria remained in her spot. Something had been wrong, just now. The look in Jack's eyes, it had crossed from anger to insanity in that instant. But she was observing the captain's state now, and he seemed all right.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Honestly, this woman couldn't stand on her feet for a day."

Camille looked Gretchen over. "I think she'll be all right. There's no physical harm." Gabriel was looking at Jack, narrowing his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but Camille was back on her feet before he knew it. She pushed Jack into the next room and locked the door.

She slapped him. "Are you completely daft!" she bellowed.

"Ouch! Darling, I was only teaching her th-"

"No," Camille interrupted. "No, Jack. You do not threaten to shoot one of us," she said darkly. "That was taking it too far."

"It was not, I was simply controlling her from attacking me," he brushed it off.

"She was not attacking you until you provoked her!" Camille yelled. "How could-how could you DO that!"

"You are overreacting…"

"I am not overreacting!" Her face was almost as red as her hair now. "You've lost all reason! And don't pretend it was just anger, I saw it Jack! I saw it in your eyes; you were delighted at the thought of killing her! At the thought of something evil! You bastard!" she yelled, slapping him again.

"Ah, so now you think I've gone insane now with the rest of the crew," Jack concluded, taking out his knife as Camille nodded.

"Pretty much, yes."

"Well then, perhaps I have gone mad," he said, throwing it and missing her by inches. It stuck straight in the door behind her. "And maybe I am just in denial!" he said, exploding.

"I don't know what has happened. But I know this. As of now, I am NO LONGER A PART OF IT!"

He looked at her, with a disgusted look on her face. "Do you really think I care?" He straightened himself up, looking at her directly in the eyes. "D'you honestly think that at some point I was in love with you?" he asked in a belittling tone. "Because if so, than you are much stupider than I have ever accredited any woman with being before."

All her anger was immediately melted into pain. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She left that room, passing the others. They were all silent, as they had been listening to every word of the fight. Camille cried herself to sleep that evening.