Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Title is a poem by William Blake, one of my favorite authors.

A/N: Okay, I have two endings in mind, but I can't decide which one. One is happy, but completely out of character for Jack. The other one is more what I think that he would do, but it constitutes a not so happy ending. Which one should I write, my faithful readers? Or should I try both, maybe?

Chapter 37: The Clod and the Pebble

"Camille, I…get her a blanket!" Will shouted as he stood up, helping her to her feet. "Are you all right?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "No, Silver is here, he's back!" she said, running to the side of the ship. "Don't let him on the ship!"

Will followed her. "What? Long John is with you?"

"He's Jack, Jack is Long John. I can't explain it right now, Will I don't see him! He's gone! He is on the ship, he was right behind me!" she ranted.

"Camille, you must calm down," Will said as he tried wrapping the blanket around her. But she pushed it off.

"No!" she protested. And she took a deep breath. "Long John's crutch was marked by the Devil's Dowry, which somehow contains his soul and is reincarnating within Jack!"

Will looked at her for a second, trying to comprehend what she had just said to him. She nodded. "It's true, Will. He knows everything we do."

"I thought I told you to keep your mouth shut, you miserable wench," Jack said. He was just behind them, shaking his boots off. Will and any of the hands that were on deck aimed their pistols/bayonets at him.

He just rolled his eyes. "I don't believe for a second that you're going to shoot me."

"He's right. It's Jack," Camille said tiredly.

"My God," Will said, still keeping his pistol steady. "He looks terrible."

"Thank you," Jack shot sarcastically. He was changing even more, right in front of their very eyes. Camille turned away, but Will kept his pistol aimed.

"Let him go, or I'll have no choice but to shoot you both," Will threatened.

"Still an idiot, I see Mr. Turner," Jack said. "Now give me the lass, or simply a part of her and let's stop all o' this nonsense."

"A part of her?" Will questioned.

"Blood," they both said at the same time.

Then Camille realized just how fatigued she was from swimming. And, she could now feel the pain from being kicked in the ribs. She staggered a bit, ready to fall over and pass out. But Will steadied her. "Keep your guns on him," he said. "If he moves, kill him."

Camille looked at him. "Will?" Then she remembered that he and Jack were still furious with each other. Perhaps this wasn't the best time to be rescued, after all.

But he turned to her. "I know you won't listen to me, but you need to go and get some rest. I can take care of this, we're almost to Port Barranquilla."

But she shook her head. "No. We need to talk. Put him in the brig," she advised him.

"What's going on out here?" Gillette asked, appearing in his blue commodore's outfit which he didn't deserve at all.

"Commodore, we've found him," Will said before Gillette could see Jack. "We've found Captain Sparrow."

"Very good, Mr. Turner. Lock him up, men," Gillette announced.

Camille stayed there, clinging onto Will. Gillette was still far enough away that they could speak safely. "He doesn't know about the rings, does he?" she asked Will.

"No. I do."

"And you persuaded him with Jack's arrest?"

"It was the only way I could get a ship to Colombia. Need I remind you that not many officials are impressed with my position these days?"

"Will, what are we going to do? That thing has Jack!"

"Well, I can't say that he didn't deserve it."

"William! He needs our help!"

"He's a fool if he thinks I'm getting him out of this one. He brought this upon himself, and now he's convinced you and the Thatchers. He's putting every one of us in danger, Camille."

Her eyes widened. She let go of him, standing by herself now and grimacing in pain. She couldn't believe that she was hearing this from Will. It made her wonder what words had been exchanged before the stormy departure. Both of them had been in foul moods because of it. "Will, what exactly did Jack say to you?"

"That is nobody's business but my own," Will said fiercely.

Camille knew that pushing this was useless, and she was more concerned with Jack's well being. She was shown to her room, where she changed her clothes and relaxed a little. Her side ached still, but now she finally had the chance to catch her breath. She hadn't realized it before, but after all of that she was trembling.

She obviously could not rely on Will to help Jack, and she was still a little puzzled as to why he, of all people, was there by Colombia. Had he and Gillette had some sort of agreement? What kind of motives would Will have? Camille knew that material things had never been of much interest to him, so it wasn't the treasure. He was still beyond furious with Jack, so it hadn't been to save Jack. And it would be downright self-centered to think that Will had come all this way to rescue her. What about the Thatchers? Did they have some special interest to him?

It was all enshrouded in mystery, as had been her life lately. There had to be something she could do to save Jack. After all, it was only ghost that possessed him. Perhaps this would be her ultimate test as to whether she was fit enough to be a pirate.

She slept a little, but in the middle of the night made her way down to the brig. It was guarded, of course. But the guards weren't really a threat to her. She made her way to the cell, as Jack groaned.

"What in the bloody hell do you want now, you awful woman?" he asked as he woke up.

She took a seat in front of the cell, making herself comfortable. "A proposal."

"Well I am quite flattered, but I don't quite see myself as a one woman man. Especially when I'm most likely going to kill that woman," Jack/Silver said.

Camille sighed. "Not a marriage proposal, Captain Silver."

"Ah, so it's back to callin' me 'Captain' again, eh? You really think there is anything you could say to make me release my hold on your beloved captain? The man killed me."

"To be fair, you intended to kill him far before then. And you've done worse, might I add."

"Logic ain't gonna get you nowhere, lass. You're dealin' with a madman, and a demonic one at that."

"I am going to get right to my point. Release Jack,-"

"No."

"-and I give you my word that I will give the crutch to another sailor. He can be your host."

Jack/Silver threw his head back and laughed. "Quartermaine, you are so naïve!" he chuckled. "To think that I would fall for such a thing."

"I'm not lying. Look at me, I am promising. Even consult Jack, however you do that. I'm a downright terrible liar, he knows it."

Jack stopped laughing, and got a serious expression on his face. "I don't want another body. I like this one just fine. And best of all, I get to torture Jack until the transformation is complete, which should be soon now."

"Transformation? So you are going to become Long John Silver again?"

He grinned. "Aye."

"Then wouldn't you rather face Sparrow so that you could watch him die by your own hands?"

"He's already more than half dead, darlin'."

She gripped the bars, almost sticking her head through them. "Please, John. Any body you want, I will give the crutch to them. Just not Jack."

He actually considered it, partly because of the way she had spoken to him and partly because she was so innocent and sincere about it. She really would do anything for Jack.

She bit her lip, prepared to make her sacrifice to save Jack. Silver was going to choose her as the host, he knew that it would do the most damage. And it would still torture Jack constantly. She held her breath, watching him think.

"I want Mr. Turner," he said.

"What?" she cried. She had not been expecting that as an answer at all. "Will? Never!"

"So be it. The change is almost complete," he said calmly.

"All right! All right, you can have Will," she said. "I'll give him the crutch while he sleeps."

"Look at me, so I know you are not lying to me."

She looked into his eyes and swallowed. They looked so different from Jack, it frightened her to do so. But she looked at him straight on. "I give you my word, Captain Silver," she said, putting her hand through the bars.

He reached back and took the crutch from the place in his coat. She wrapped her dress around her hand and took it as he held it out. When she did, Jack's eyes rolled to the back of his head and he fell to the ground. She dropped the crutch immediately and picked the lock.

His body looked so emaciated and worn out. She knelt down over his unconscious figure, cringing as his features changed slowly. She could feel her mark pulsing a bit less, and could see that his was as well. She put her hand over his chest, feeling for a heartbeat.

In another second, he took a deep breath and groaned as his eyes attempted to open. She took the little leather flask she had at her side and some on her fingers, wetting his lips with brandy. He coughed, with a little bit of color returning to his face. He took another deep breath, and lifted his arm up.

"You shouldn't try to move, Jack. You're extremely weak," she said gently.

But he continued to grope around the floor of the cell until he managed to get the flask from her. He took it, raising it to his lips and drinking the remainder of it.

Camille rolled her eyes. "The situation looks grimmer every moment, and you can still drink brandy?"

"Well I need my strength," he said, sitting up slowly.

"Jack, are you all right?" she asked, helping him sit up against the hull.

"Yes, yes darling, I'm fine," he said, but she could see that he was still awfully worn out.

She adjusted his bandana. "Is there anything I can get you? Besides brandy or rum?"

Jack sighed. "I s'pose not. Have we learned our lesson yet?"

"You mean about not meddling with cursed treasure? I don't know Jack, it seems to be forever haunting us. Perhaps we should burn the crutch."

"Or break it into tiny pieces and drop it off at the bottom of the sea."

"That sounds like a brilliant idea," she said. She wanted to ask him what he and Will had argued about, but she knew it was best to let him recover a bit first. Besides, he would have to deal with Will soon enough. Right now, she was happy to have a conversation with him and not Long John Silver's demon or ghost, or whatever possessed that crutch. She wanted to ask him about the tavern, and about nearly strangling her to death.

"You need to eat something, Captain."

But he shook his head. "No. If I touch that crutch again, the two of us can die of starvation."

"Jack, you are talking like a madman again. Silver is not going to take over you again, because in order to do that he's got to go through me."

He shook his head, grinning. "I don't think he'll want to mess with that," he said, giving in.

"I don't think so, either. I'll be right back, Captain," she said, excusing herself from the small cell. She appeared moments later with food and drink for him. And since the guards were still knocked out, they didn't worry much about the noise. But things were still on Camille's mind.

"Jack," she said slowly. "I need to know something."

He knew by the tone of her voice what she was going to ask him. He shook his head. "No, darling. It's in the past, just leave it be. What's done is done."

She sighed. "That may be, but I need you to be honest with me about one thing. You were Long John both of those times…in the tavern, were you not?"

He took a deep breath. He was a much better liar than she, but his conscience was still as strong as anyone's. So he felt a slight pang of guilt when he nodded. "Of course I was."

She felt a great sense of relief after hearing that. She thought for sure that he had been himself when he'd slept with that other woman, but now she knew she'd been foolish to think that Jack had cheated on her. She smiled. "Really? Oh, that makes me feel so much better." She got to her feet. "I'd better get going. I am supposed to be 'recovering'. I'll see you soon, hopefully," she said, stooping to kiss him.

"Yes, goodbye," he replied in a melancholy tone. But she was in such high spirits that she didn't notice it. Before leaving the brig, she kicked the crutch into a corner.