Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. And coincidentally, the title is another story by Robert Louis Stevenson.
Chapter 33: Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
It had been days since the incident, but Camille still found herself waking up in a cold sweat and prying imaginary fingers off her throat. She never dared to go wandering alone around the ship anymore for fear of what she might find.
They were days away from the next port, and the crew were weary. Time seemed to move slowly, and Jack was barely what anyone could call hostile toward any of them. Camille would begin thinking about the incident, but just as she was beginning to convince herself that she had imagined the whole thing her body would involuntarily shudder. No, it had been real. And so had the tavern. They had all been present for that one, but nobody ever talked about it.
The only thing that was any indication of Jack's harshness was the fact that James was still in the brig, but even that could have been looked over since he obviously harbored a strong hatred for the man. Ana Maria had been set free, of course. But something was odd about that, too.
Camille was glad to have her companion back in the galley, but as soon as Ana appeared she grabbed Camille's wrist and began forcing her towards a pantry.
"Ana, what do you think yo-"
"Just hush, and do as I say!" Ana whispered harshly. Moments later, the two of them were crammed very uncomfortably in that small place. "There's no safe place to talk here. I got something to tell ya from James."
"What?"
Ana Maria looked at her very seriously. "He wants me to tell you that you should look in the desk. He said that you'd know what I meant."
Camille searched her memory, trying to interpret his words. Search in the desk? What desk? She shook her head and pushed the door open. It was horribly uncomfortable in there.
The rest of the evening went by as if there had never been the slightest change in Jack's mood. Everyone was jolly, and drinking and singing after dinner. The Thatchers and Camille knew not to lead on that they were the slightest bit suspicious about the recent strange affairs, and Ana Maria knew as well. After dinner, Jack called a meeting in his cabin about the map.
"Well," he began, propping his feet comfortably up on the table. "The seas are calm, the winds are strong. With a bit of luck we could be there in a matter of weeks," Jack said gaily, cradling his rum. Camille stole a glance at him now and then, and he looked normal. Maybe a bit tired, but all of the weariness and ferocity of his presence was nonexistent.
"I'm concerned with what we will do after we get to Colombia, Captain," Gabriel lied. Jack had been shockingly indifferent to him, which was the opposite that anyone expected.
"I know exactly what to do, lad. Celebrate," he announced, and then laughed merrily before taking a gulp of rum. He patted Gabriel on the back, and he smiled uncomfortably.
Ana Maria looked at him strangely. "You sure are in a fine mood this evening, Captain. I suppose our worries will be over once we rid ourselves of this Mark?"
"Aye."
"Well, that's good news," Gretchen said, trying to meet Camille's eye. She finally did, and through the lighthearted conversation was able to convey that she was extremely confused by Jack's behavior, as were they all. They all remained in his cabin for over an hour, and by the end of it their suspicions of Captain Sparrow's descent into madness were reduced.
They were all excusing themselves for the evening slowly, all laughing with relief, when Jack placed his hand on Camille's shoulder just before she set her foot outside the door. "I'd like to have a word with you, Quartermaine."
Her heart leapt in her chest. This emotional turbulence was almost too much for her to bear. But when she turned around to face him, she knew that she wasn't imagining things. He was the mad Jack again.
He kicked the door closed. "Is there anything that you can't tell the entire ship?" he asked in an annoyed tone. "You nearly ruined my reputation. Now I've wasted an entire evening undoing the damage you've done when I could've been committing murder in the brig."
"You mean…you bastard!" she hissed through her teeth. He had convinced everyone that he was perfectly sane now with that little get together. Now it would be very difficult to get them to believe otherwise again. "And James has done nothing to you."
"Except chased me and tried to hang me."
She rolled her eyes. "Oh honestly, he was no threat to you. Do you really think he could ever put you into such a dangerous position so that you couldn't escape him?"
Jack grinned maliciously. "It doesn't make his death any less fun for me."
Her arm began burning. "Ouch!" she said, putting her hand over it. Her Mark felt like it was pulsing. She took a step or two back, and felt the pain subside.
"Yes, the Mark is growing stronger," Jack said thoughtfully. "Which means that we are very close. So close," he said, stepping up to Camille and placing his hand on her neck, "That we can almost taste it."
Her arm burned again, she slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me, you monster!" she exclaimed. As he stepped back, she could see beneath his coat a wooden object. He caught her looking at it and immediately wrapped it tighter around himself.
"You are no longer the man that I knew," Camille continued, trying to think. What would he have that was made of wood?
"And what of you? I think I would sorely mistaken if I were to think for a second that you were the naïve young woman that blindly gave her heart to a loathsome pirate." His words were cleverly spoken, and he said them with such disdain that he cut her deeply.
"Well, we all make mistakes," she said quietly, reaching for the door handle. Before she let herself out, she glanced past him to his desk. The desk! The drawer was open; the one with all of the trinkets he had presented to herself and James the first day of their voyage.
She walked across the deck, looking to see if Jack was following her. She leaned against the banister, thinking. So that's what James had meant. Look in Jack's desk. What would she find in there that would give her the slightest clue? And how would she even get in there? Jack had fooled everyone, but he never hesitated to lie to Camille about his evil side. She would not be able to search his cabin a second time.