A/N: Sorry, just a bit late with this one because of the long weekend. Depending on how my week goes, this may be a "bi-weekly" update period as I've actually caught up with what I've written thus far. If my week gets hectic, I may not be able to finish the next chapter on time for a Friday upload, but I will try my best! Enjoy!
Chapter Six
Compared to being trapped on the Flying Dutchman, being trapped on the Black Pearl had been akin to a palace. The storm at sea returned in earnest, soaking every last inch of the cursed ship. Thunder roared overhead and the wind carried the ship at what Jessica could only assume was its full speed. From the moment after they were aboard, Jessica and Will were forced into the same labor as the rest of the crew. Jessica made sure she stayed close to Will, thinking it wise to stick together as the only two people who hadn't sworn their souls to this ship. Every crew member that laid eyes on them seemed to be holding back the urge to cut them down. Jessica doubted Davy Jones tolerated blatant slaughter on his ship, especially if it meant less hands to go around or that someone got out of their sworn years of servitude early. But she wasn't going to bet her life on it, or Will's. She kept close to Will and continued hauling cargo lines from below the ship. She wasn't sure exactly what cargo the Dutchman would carry, but she wasn't about to stop and ask. Besides, judging by the size and weight of the barrels, it was probably powder or ammunition anyway. That notion also raised questions, but she put them aside to focus. The work she was doing seemed far more taxing to her than it ever had before. There was a persistent weakness she just couldn't shake. She frowned in thought, unsure if it was simply a matter of her mind playing tricks. It felt real enough, though, especially as one of the lines she was hauling slipped through her hands. She caught the rope, but not before it burned against her palms. She clenched her teeth as the raw skin on her hands clutched the rope. She managed to tie it off before stepping back and letting the cool rain water wash over her palms.
"Are you okay?" Will asked.
If she had the energy, she would have told him off for continuing to ask her that.
"The rope just slipped. I'll be fine."
When he continued staring, she sighed.
"I understand you mean well, but I can handle myself on a ship. I know you get that, but, really, this is hardly different from how I spent the past decade of my life."
"I'm sorry. I'm still just…not used to seeing you in this element."
She gave him a small smile before returning to her position. She hated their circumstances, but she was glad that she wasn't alone on this ship. Even if it put her in danger as well, she was equally glad she hadn't let Will go to that shipwreck alone. Jack had a lot to answer for when they made it off this ship.
If…a small voice seemed to ring in Jessica's mind…if we can make it off this ship.
The storm refused to subside as it had before. The sky remained in perpetual darkness except for the frequent flashes of lightning. There was not a single star in the sky, nor the moon. The Flying Dutchman pitched violently among the rising waves. More than once, Jessica found herself swept off her feet by a wave crashing over the side of the ship and flooding the deck. The only way she could tell time was even passing at all was the progressive weakness that seemed to be consuming her. It crawled from her limbs to her very core, every bone and muscle in her body seeming to waver in strength. The longer she labored aboard the Dutchman, the colder and weaker she felt. It was beginning to worry her, but she refused to let it best her. She was not about to show weakness among this crew and certainly not in front of Will. He had enough worries on his mind, she did not want to become another.
Jessica flinched as a loud noise rose above the tempest.
"Music?" Will called to her over the raging storm.
It was. She listened closer and heard deep, definite notes of an organ playing close to where they were. It seemed to be coming from behind them, near the ship's stern. The notes seemed to reverberate off of the ship. The music they made was downright haunting.
"I think it's coming from the cabin," she called back to Will, after noticing the absence of other crew members around them.
The crew members of the Dutchman had all assumed positions around mid-deck, setting up rigging to move one of the ship's large cannons. A task which Will and Jessica were soon made part of. The bosun, Jessica thought that to be his position anyway the way he had been barking orders left and right, ordered the both of them to one of the main lines portside to the cannon. Jessica felt uneasy about the large cannon being hoisted over the deck by a line over the mainmast. In this weather, its movement seemed unpredictable at best, even with multiple lines securing it and most of the crew tasked to the job. All of them heaved in unison, making slow progress on moving the cannon. Jessica did her best to hide how little she was actually able to pull on the rope. At this point, her legs were starting to feel too weak to even support her own weight. She was afraid to find out how inability to work was punished on this ship. She was determined not to find out by collapsing in front of the rest of the crew.
"Secure the mast tackle, Mr. Turner!" the bosun yelled from above them.
Jessica locked eyes with Will and nodded.
"Go. I've got this," she said, taking over his position on the portside line.
"Step to it!" the bosun yelled impatiently.
Will ran up the stairs to the quarterdeck and Jessica instantly regretted taking on his position. Not that she had a choice. But she was not sure how much longer she could continue hauling this line without losing consciousness. Her head was starting to feel as light as her legs.
"Bugger it, not now," she growled to herself.
As it turned out, she needn't have worried how long she could haul the line, because a moment later the cannon started to drop.
The entire crew scrambled to get out of the way of the falling cannon. Jessica threw herself backwards as it smashed into the deck, sending splinters of wood flying everywhere. She groaned as she shook her head in an attempt to dispel the ringing in her ears. She quickly pushed aside her concerns for herself once she looked upon the wreckage of the cannon. The mast line had slackened right before it fell.
"Will!" she gasped, bolting up the stairs to her right.
When she came off the last step, she saw Will lying dazed on the quarterdeck. She didn't have any time to see if he was injured or speculate about what happened before the bosun and most of the Dutchman's crew gathered around.
"Haul that weevil to his feet!" the bosun commanded.
A few of the crew who had attacked them on the shipwreck walked over and grabbed Will forcefully up from the deck.
"Five lashes will remind you to stay on 'em!" the bosun yelled, brandishing a whip at Will.
A couple of the crew forced Will against the ratlines. Without consciously realizing what she was doing, Jessica stepped in front of the bosun.
"I'll share the punishment!" Jessica cried out.
The bosun laughed coldly.
"Why would you do that?" he asked.
"Because…I told him to go," she stated plainly. "It was just as much my fault."
"If it was your fault too, then you should get the same punishment!" he said, shoving her backwards. "Wait your turn, then!"
The crew laughed as she stumbled backwards into the crowd of them. Two of them grabbed her by the arms, restraining her. She didn't bother struggling, she knew she was too weak to fight back in her current state.
"Five lashes to you first, then!" the bosun said, rounding on Will again.
"No!"
Jessica looked up to see that one of the crew of the Dutchman had stepped between Will and the bosun, grabbing the bosun's arm. This man was less…warped than the rest of the crew. His face was still recognizably human, with pale, gray-toned skin and long, dark hair. He did, however, have barnacles and a starfish plastered across the side of his face, marking him as belonging to this crew of damned souls.
"Impeding me of my duties? You'll also share the punishment!" the bosun said angrily.
"I'll take it all!" the man said immediately.
Jessica was confused. Why would anyone belonging to this crew offer themselves up for Will? She understood her own reasoning, however much it went against her better judgment, but not this man's.
"Will you now?"
A chill went through her as Davy Jones spoke up, making his way through the crowd. It wasn't until now that she realized the music from below had stopped. He had appeared seemingly out of nowhere.
"And what would prompt such an act of charity?" Jones asked, getting face-to-face with the man who stopped the bosun.
Jessica heard him mutter something that she didn't catch at first. Whatever he said it made Jones cock his head to the side. The man turned to look at Will.
"He's my son," he said, louder this time.
Jessica's eyes widened as she looked at the man again.
"Bootstrap…" she whispered in shock.
Will was able to wrestle some freedom from the two crew members holding him, enough to turn his head. He appeared just as shocked as Jessica at this news. Davy Jones stood between Will and his father, looking between them, and started to laugh. Jessica didn't think that cold, cruel laugh of his would ever fade from her mind.
"What fortuitous circumstance be this?" Jones said.
He looked over and spotted Jessica restrained among the crowd of crew members.
"You will have none of this," he jeered at Jessica.
Anger boiled inside her once more. He was a terribly cruel person.
"It was a fine sentiment. But do you think I am unaware of what goes on aboard my own ship? You know as well as I that in your current state you couldn't bear hardly a single lash in punishment before collapsing to this deck dead."
Jessica felt Will's eyes on her, but she was too busy glaring at Jones to meet Will's gaze. Her fear and terror had turned to anger.
"I will not have years of owed servitude stolen from me by the same sort of cowardice that your fool of a brother showed me. No, Miss Sparrow," Jones said, spitting her name, "you will remain on this ship and suffer until your brother's debt to me is satisfied."
There were shocked mutters of "Sparrow" all around her. She was starting to feel even more faint in the wake of her anger. When she offered to take some of Will's undeserved punishment, she had an idea of what it might do to her, but she had been certain that was to be her fate on this ship anyway.
"Five lashes be owed, I believe it is," Davy Jones said.
He held a tentacled hand toward the bosun, who put the whip in it. Davy Jones held the whip up in front of Bootstrap, offering it to him. Bootstrap looked in horror at the whip.
"No! No, I won't!" he cried out.
"The cat's out of the bag, Mr. Turner!" Jones yelled.
Jessica then realized how Will and Bootstrap had ended up here, together. They had both responded to the bosun's order.
"Your issue will feel its sting be it by the bosun's hand…or your own," Jones commanded.
"No."
"Bosun!"
"No!" Bootstrap yelled, grabbing the whip from Jones.
The crew members restraining Will tore his shirt open, exposing his back. Jones looked between Bootstrap and Will once more before approaching Jessica. She guessed he must have seen her turning her head away, if his words were anything to go by. He gave one look at the crew members holding her and they backed off. With one hand, he gripped her upper arm tightly and forced her forward.
"You will witness the pain your brother has caused," he said.
He held her head tightly between the pincers of his crab-clawed hand, the points of the claw digging into her cheeks. In this position, he forced her to watch as Bootstrap started to lash Will with the nine-tailed whip. Tears stung at her eyes as Will cried out in pain. Around the second or third crack of the whip, she started to taste blood in her mouth from biting into her cheek. Will's back bled openly, becoming more marred by the second. Jessica's knees started to buckle as a wave of unconsciousness threatened to take her over. She was prodded back into awareness once she felt Davy Jones' claw digging into her face.
"Ah, ah, ah — not so fast, little bird," Jones whispered harshly in her ear.
She was somewhere between wanting to pass out and wanting to throw up, she couldn't decide which would have been a better distraction. Jones may have thought it too risky to have her whipped, but having to watch Will get whipped was its own form of torture to her. To her it seemed like far more than five lashes by the time Bootstrap finished, only because of how slowly time seemed to progress. The crew of the Dutchman dragged a very weak-looking and bloodied Will across the deck and threw him below-deck.
"You had it easy, boy!" they shouted after him.
Davy Jones released Jessica, without sparing unnecessary force, and walked back down to the main deck. Jessica watched as Bootstrap climbed below deck after Will. She made it as far as stumbling a few steps forward like a drunken idiot before collapsing. Physically unable to raise herself back up again, she collapsed once more and darkness quickly flooded her vision.
Something stirred her mind, even in the darkness. This feeling was familiar, somehow. Then a voice called to her, coaxing her out of the darkness.
Much like last time.
The thought crossed her mind only seconds before…
"Jessica!"
The alarmed shout stirred her almost immediately, but it took time for her to come around. Everything felt so…muddled to her.
"Jessica, thank God."
She managed to get her eyes to open and found herself looking up at Will's relieved face. It took her a few more moments to realize she was laying across his lap.
"Will? Are you alright?" she asked, slowly trying to sit up.
"Me?" he asked, a smile tugging at his face.
He put a hand on her back and helped her sit up.
"Your back…" she said, suddenly remembering.
"I'll live. Which is more than I can say for you, apparently," he said, dropping his voice.
Her confused look must have been enough for him.
"You were unconscious and just stopped breathing. Only for a moment. But still…Jessica, what is going on? What did Jones mean earlier, when he said you would collapse dead on the deck from a single lash?"
She fought for the words to possibly begin to describe what she was feeling.
"William, give the girl a moment," another voice said.
Bootstrap was standing just to the side of Will, looking down at the both of them. Jessica found herself smiling up at him before remembering what happened before she lost consciousness. Her smile quickly turned to a frown, her eyes narrowing in anger.
"That was a terrible thing you did," she said, finding the energy to begin to stand.
Will supported her as she stood, looking at her with a softened expression.
"Jess, it's okay. We worked it out."
"'Worked it out'? He tortured you, Will!"
"I know. But it was far less than the bosun would have given me, from what I'm to understand. He didn't want to, Jess. I know you saw that."
It was true, she had seen the pained expression on Bootstrap's face. It was no doubt another cruel punishment Davy Jones intended to inflict with one act. She sighed and nodded slowly.
Will and Bootstrap had gotten her below deck, away from where the rest of the crew was, while she was unconscious. Now that she was up, Jessica could hardly believe she was looking at Bill Turner. The Bill Turner that Barbossa had bragged so openly about sending to the depths. The Bill Turner that had been needed to lift the curse on the Black Pearl's crew for so long. Will's father. She'd heard much about Bootstrap, but never once thought she would ever meet him. He was supposed to be dead. She couldn't imagine what Will was feeling.
"How? How are you alive?" Jessica asked.
With Will still supporting her slightly, the three of them started to walk together. Down here, they were away from the prying ears of the Dutchman's crew. Or at least that is what Jessica thought.
"I made a deal, but I gave away more than I intended. One hundred years before the mast, losing who you were, bit by bit, until you end up…end up like poor Wyvern, here," Bootstrap answered.
It took Jessica a moment to realize that the figurehead holding a lantern that Bootstrap pointed at was actually no figurehead at all. It was a person, melded into the very ship itself.
"Once you've sworn an oath to the Dutchman, there's no leaving it. Not until your debt is paid."
"We've sworn no oath," Will said.
"Then you must get away," Bootstrap whispered.
Jessica realized that maybe they weren't so free of unwanted listeners, after all.
"Not until I find this," Will said, pulling out the drawing of the key. "The key."
There was a gasp behind them, causing Jessica and Will to turn around sharply. Jessica saw the man, if he could even still be called that, that was melded into the ship was now moving, somewhat.
"The dead man's chest," he said in a raspy voice, looking at them.
"What do you know of this?" Will asked eagerly.
"Open the chest with the key, and stab the heart…no, no, don't stab the heart! The Dutchman needs a living heart or there'll be no captain, and if there's no captain, there's no one to have the key."
"So the captain has the key?" Will deduced.
The man fell silent and started to meld back into the side of the ship.
"Where is the key?" Will pressed.
"Hidden."
"Where is the chest?"
"Hidden."
The man's eyes snapped shut and he became immoble once more.
Of all the ways that the search to find Jack could have ended, this certainly wasn't what Jessica had imagined. Stuck aboard a ship captained by a man who she'd thought to be nothing more than a drunken pirate's tavern tale. Certainly not hearing about a chest containing the heart of said individual. Definitely not finding Will's father alive…for the most part. All of that not even considering the state she was in herself. Something that Will had not forgotten about.
"Jess, please…tell me what's wrong."
"I—"
"Don't say you're 'fine', either."
"I was going to say I don't know. Because I don't."
Will gave her a skeptical look.
"All I do know is that since we came aboard I've felt weak. I know that the longer we've been here, the worse it's gotten. At first I thought it was just in my head, but now…I don't know. I've never felt this weak before. Not in my whole life. Well, except once."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"You had enough to worry about."
"It's the Dutchman," Bootstrap said.
Will turned to his father with pleading eyes.
"You know what this is, what's wrong with her? How do we fix it?"
Jessica noticed Bootstrap looked grim. A pit formed in her stomach once again.
"I've heard of it. Will, Jessica, you have to understand what this ship is. The Flying Dutchman sails a line between worlds. Between the land of the living and the land of the dead. It passes between the two, regularly…as does its crew. Other than those who have sworn an oath to Davy Jones, mortal souls belong to one world or the other. Never to both. But on rare occasion, there are those who have come so very close to death and managed to survive. Living souls touched by death. From what I've heard, the Dutchman doesn't take well to that."
"I don't understand," Will said. "I nearly drowned as a boy. I nearly died in that shipwreck as a child…but I'm not affected."
"William, I don't just mean a close brush with death. I mean nothing short of a miracle to have survived," Bootstrap said, looking Jessica in the eyes.
"Beckett…" she said, almost inaudibly.
"What about him?" Will asked.
"What I told you. About the day when he nearly killed me. I shouldn't have survived. But I did, somehow. That has to be it."
Bootstrap nodded, "That sounds as though it fits the bill."
Jessica wasn't so sure Bootstrap was telling her everything.
"What will happen to her?" Will asked.
Bootstrap went silent, looking down at his feet.
"I'll die, Will. Right?"
"The Dutchman will continue to drain your strength until there's none left. She will do her best to make you fit neatly into one world, for certain, and she only deals in death. That is why you must get off of her as soon as you can," Bootstrap answered.
"Then, I'd better go find that key," Will stated.
With help from Bootstrap, Will started to devise a plan to get hold of the key in Davy Jones' possession. It was going to take a good amount of luck to pull off, but they had few choices at this point. The only flaw was trying to figure out exactly where the key was ahead of time.
"I don't like this. We should just leave," Jessica said.
"Not without the key. Jack won't help free Elizabeth without it and we've already been through this much," Will stated.
He grimaced as he moved, his back no doubt still painful.
"Yeah, well, I don't want to be the one to explain to Elizabeth that Davy Jones killed you for trying to steal his key."
"Way to be optimistic."
"Sorry…it's this damn ship."
"Everything will work out…remember?"
Jessica barely remembered a time when the biggest concern was a rainy wedding day, she wasn't sure how he even remembered her saying that. She shook her head in disbelief at his optimism.
Late into the night, the storm finally broke. Will was asleep under the Dutchman's deck, Jessica having offered to keep watch. He was exhausted and still in pain. Those were the reasons she convinced him with, anyway. She didn't tell him the real reason she offered to stay up was that she feared if she closed her eyes she would never wake again. Some time after the storm broke, she heard footsteps approaching. She jumped to her feet, afraid it was a crew member…or worse. Instead, she saw Bootstrap approaching. She met him, putting a few paces between them and Will.
"Jessica Sparrow," he stated as if he couldn't believe she was there. "Jack spoke plenty about you when I knew him."
"He did?"
"Only to me. He knew I had Will to look after, and, well, he had you. His little sister."
She smiled for a moment before it slipped off her face.
"He sent Will on to this ship. And didn't stop me from going with him."
"I'm sure he had a reason."
"He better."
"So, you've known Will long?" he asked, looking past her to where Will slept.
"Long enough to know what a great man he is. You should be proud."
"I am. He told me about what Barbossa did, how he kept you captive on the Pearl. That man," Bootstrap stated, shaking his head.
Jessica knew this was probably her only chance at getting answers. She already knew what lengths Jack would go to to avoid answering her. It still didn't make her any less afraid to get them.
"Speaking of the Pearl…you held something back earlier, didn't you? Because of Will?" she asked.
Bootstrap looked over to Will, seemingly to confirm he was still asleep. He chuckled softly.
"Well, isn't that something? You really are kin to Jack, aren't you? That sort of intuition is incredibly rare."
That one word seemed doomed to haunt her now. He straightened himself before continuing.
"I also know you're a very clever woman, from what Will told me. So, I think you already know what I didn't say. I think you've known for a while, but probably didn't want to admit it to yourself, or am I wrong?"
Jessica frowned.
"This sort of thing, with the Dutchman, doesn't happen just because someone got close to dying, does it? No matter how close you made it out to be to Will. No one survives a wound like that, let alone a young child. I didn't just miraculously survive that day, did I?"
Bootstrap shook his head silently. Jessica felt her eyes burning, but refused to let any tears fall. She had known this for a while, guessed at it, but some part of her just knew.
"I don't remember dying," she stated, as if that made it any less real.
"Of the very few who have been where you are, even fewer remember anything. And I can tell you — it's for the best."
She clenched her jaw, painfully aware she was talking to someone who had experienced something worse than death.
"And Jack's deal…with Davy Jones, that wasn't just for the Black Pearl. Or the Wicked Wench. Whichever."
"Like I said. He had his little sister to look out for. I don't know what he did for certain, but I'm pretty sure I know his motivations."
Tears slid down Jessica's face, despite how hard she tried to keep them in.
"No. I didn't — I never…I never asked anyone to trade their life for mine."
"He's your brother. You didn't have to ask. In fact, even if you told him not to, I'm sure he would have done it anyway. He cares about you, Jessica, more than I'm sure you realize. No one makes a deal with Davy Jones lightly, especially Jack Sparrow. I know of those who mock him for it, call him a fool, but it was never just about a ship."
"And if I die here?"
"You never swore your soul to Jones. He knows that. You would be given the choice he gives most."
"To join the Dutchman or die? Not much of a choice."
"That's why the two of you must get off this ship. You don't deserve that fate."
"Neither did you."
Bootstrap smiled solemnly, "Thank you for that."
An opportunity to get the key soon presented itself, in the form of a game. Jessica thought little of the game that Jones' crew started playing once the bad weather finally died out. Will, on the other hand, watched them intently as they played. Jessica was far more concerned with keeping herself alive long enough to escape the Dutchman, if such a thing was possible. She avoided getting too near to any of the crew besides Bootstrap, afraid they may sense her ever-growing weakness. It was everything she could do to stand upright. The kind of aching that seemed to seep into her bones was only relatable to the one time she had received a decent thrashing from some of Barbossa's crew after trying to escape the Pearl. Barbossa had been livid, not only about losing a good hand on the ship for a few days, but also for the men acting without his orders. None of the crew ever laid a hand on Jessica after that. After that, she vowed that they would never be able to. She was pulled from her memories by Will whispering to her. He explained his plan to coax the location of the key out of Davy Jones using the game of Liar's Dice as a ploy. Despite her misgivings about the plan, it did seem like their only option to learn where the key was hidden. The haunting organ music played from the captain's cabin once more. The music seemed to bring with it a resurgence of the heavy squall that had not stopped for long. Jessica wondered at the significance of the single tune Jones continued to play, but of course it hardly mattered. Will stood with Bootstrap for a few moments, during which Jessica assumed he was relaying the plan to his father. Very soon she would find out she was wrong. After watching the current game taking place on the deck, Will glanced between his father and Jessica before declaring loudly: "I challenge Davy Jones!" The crew started to laugh, the current game stopping cold. The music from behind them abruptly halted and soon those loud, thudding footsteps hammered the quarterdeck. Jones descended the steps as lightning started to flash across the sky.
"I accept, mate," Jones stated.
The crew started to set up a small table top. Captain's privilege to not have to play on the bare deck, Jessica supposed. She guessed Davy Jones very rarely got challenged by his own crew members. Not that she thought that gave Will any better chance in this game. Not that winning actually mattered. Despite knowing the plan, Jessica still felt overwhelmingly nervous about this exchange. Perhaps it was the state the Dutchman was leaving her in that increased her anxiety. Whatever it was, she didn't like the feeling. A feeling that only increased further when Jones walked up to Will.
"The stakes?" Jones asked.
"My soul. An eternity of servitude," Will said.
It was when Jessica heard Bootstrap cry out in surprise that she realized Will hadn't told him the plan. This, this had been the part she had misgivings about. Somehow, she felt Jones could turn Will's words or actions around to entrap him.
"Against?" Jones asked with a smug smile.
Will looked Jones in the eye and threw the scrap of cloth down on the tabletop.
"I want this."
Jones picked up the cloth and unraveled it. Jessica saw a flash of surprise cross his eyes as he looked at the drawing.
"How do you know of the key?" Jones asked, seething anger coating his voice.
"That's not part of the game, is it?" Will said, disaffected.
She didn't know when Will had become so...brazen. It could have been his raw determination to get through this and save Elizabeth. In fact, Jessica knew that was probably what it was. Will sat at the small tabletop.
"You can always walk away," he added to Jones.
There was next to no chance of that happening, Jessica thought to herself. Jones slowly lowered himself into the stool opposite of Will. The tentacles on his face started to move and with one he withdrew a dark, metal keyring with a single key on it.
The crew murmured in hushed surprise as Jones held the key up for Will to see. The key was identical to the drawing. It was simple with two shafts that had opposing bits. Jessica saw it for only a moment before Jones tucked it securely back under his mass of tentacles. She saw the glint in Will's eye as he carefully watched. The first part of the plan had worked, now it was just a matter of Will avoiding further suspicion. Not to mention taking that key which, true to everything they had heard, Davy Jones kept on his person. Will and Davy Jones picked up their containers of dice and shook them. As they placed them on the tabletop, Bootstrap slammed down one of his own, taking a seat at the small table.
"What's this!?" Davy Jones exclaimed in outrage.
"I'm in. Matching his wager," Bootstrap said.
Jessica really wished Will had told his father their plan. This was bad. She shifted uncomfortably, watching the curious game.
"No! Don't do this!" Will growled at his father.
"The die has been cast. I bid three twos," Bootstrap said evenly. "It's your bid, captain."
Confident that all eyes were now on the game, Jessica slipped to the back of the crowd of crew members. She didn't see or feel a single eye on her as she moved. Invisibility came easily to those who were consistently underestimated, she supposed. Why watch someone if you don't think they pose any threat? All she had to do was stay out of sight of the helmsman, it seemed everyone else was watching the game of dice. One of the first things she saw was a capstan, but, curiously, it lacked any connection to rigging or ropes. Carved into the top of it was a figure of a large octopus. Stories of the kraken flooded her mind. She shook her head as if to dislodge the stories from her mind, and continued. Very quickly she came upon what had to be the captain's cabin. The double doors were toward the back of the ship and were far more ornate for anything else. Jessica cast her eyes around once more, looking for crew members who might be walking around as well as those that might be melded into the ship itself, before slipping inside.
Even the ornate cabin of the Black Pearl under Barbossa's captainage could not have held a candle to the Flying Dutchman's cabin. It was dark inside, only being lit by a few groups of wax candles, but even in the low light Jessica could appreciate how large the room was. It had to be at least three yards high, accented by a window of nearly the same size at the stern-most end of the room. Positioned in front of this grand window was the source of the haunting music Jessica heard frequently on the ship: a pipe organ. The dark, cylindrical pipes rose up all over the cabin. The weakness seemed to surge within Jessica as she explored the room carefully. She had to resist the urge to lean on one of the desks for support. It seemed to her to be a very bad idea to touch anything in this room. She looked around, taking in the layout of the room and noting that, as in most ships, there was only the one entrance to the cabin. Her time was limited, the game Will was playing with Jones and now Bootstrap would not last long. There were no charts laid out, as she expected, so no way to know if the location of the chest was marked anywhere. She carefully approached the pipe organ and a silver glint caught her eye. Sitting next to the instrument's keys was a small locket that was shaped roughly like a stylized heart. Looking closer, Jessica realized it was engraved to resemble a crab with a time-worn face in the center. The whole necklace looked as though it had once been made of the finest silver, but had tarnished with age. She had no idea why she was drawn to this item. A small nagging feeling of recognition crossed her mind briefly before being forgotten as the top of the locket sprang open. She jumped back in surprise. After her initial shock wore down, Jessica heard light notes playing. Music was coming from the locket. A slow, twinkling tune that sounded vaguely familiar to her. She backed herself nearly all of the way out of the cabin while the music played and only recognized it when she turned to leave. The soft notes playing from the music-box locket were the very same notes that took on the haunting quality when played on the Dutchman's pipe organ. Davy Jones' favored tune twisted this soft, melodic song into an eerie refrain.
Jessica carefully made her way back to the deck, trying to avoid drawing any eyes as she returned. She passed the capstan carved like the kraken and noticed the entire crew was still focused on the area where Davy Jones, Will, and Bootstrap played dice. Although, as she approached the crowd, Davy Jones' voice rose over the mutterings of the crew.
"Bootstrap Bill, you're a liar and you will spend an eternity on this ship!"
Jones stood up from the table and turned to Will next.
"Master Turner, feel free to go ashore…the very next time we make port!" Jones said, dissolving into a harsh chuckle.
He walked away, still laughing at the notion of making port, and the rest of the crew rose into a fit of harsh laughter themselves. The Dutchman's crew dispersed until Jessica, Will, and Bootstrap were the only ones left on that area of the deck.
"Fool! Why did you do that?" Will shot at Bootstrap the second they were alone.
"I couldn't let you lose," Bootstrap muttered so softly, Jessica barely heard.
"It was never about winning or losing," Will said.
"Which he would have known, if you told him," Jessica couldn't stop herself from commenting.
"The key. You just wanted to know where it was," Bootstrap said in sudden realization.
Will looked disheartened as he turned to Jessica, "What did you find?"
She dove into the relevant details of her small scouting trip to the captain's cabin. With that information and now knowing where the key was kept, they began to finalize their plan. Once again, Jessica found she had significant concerns about the plan, but also realized they had little in the way of options. She simply found it risky to rely on the crew being asleep while Will went after the key. While on the Black Pearl, she knew it as fact that the undead didn't sleep. But she trusted Bootstrap's knowledge of this crew. Apparently they retained enough of their humanity to need rest.
Hours passed slowly, but eventually night engulfed the Flying Dutchman and her crew. Jessica paced restlessly below deck, feeling as though only her momentum kept her going. That persistent weakness was seeping deep into her bones again. She only received momentary reprieve from it when she blacked out previously, which coincidentally was also the only kind of rest she had gotten since she and Will boarded the cursed ship. Her only hope was that this plan went accordingly, as she expected darkness would soon start to edge her vision once more. Bootstrap, after going about his normal duties to deflect suspicion, gave her and Will a wide berth. He scanned the ship as he started to enact the first part of their plan: relieving the helmsman that would easily spot their escape attempt. Suddenly, Jessica's motion was halted by a hand grasping hers.
"We're going to get off of this ship, Jess," Will said, comfortingly.
Jessica returned the pressure of Will's grip.
"Please, be careful," she said, locking eyes with him.
"You know me —"
"That's why I said it," Jessica retorted with a weak smile.
Will climbed the stairs halfway and peered out over the deck.
"We're clear. See you soon," he said, heading off in the direction of the captain's cabin.
Before moving into her agreed-upon position, Jessica moved farther below deck to the hold of the ship. This was not part of their plan and she knew what she was risking to do this one thing. But it was that important to her. Hearing nothing but garbled snoring, she carefully and quietly searched the hold of the Dutchman. Her nerves prickled at each sound in the darkness. Finally, she saw the crude outline of that coral-encrusted remnant of a human being who attacked her days ago. He — it — whichever, was thankfully asleep as she approached. And once again Jessica's intuition won out.
No, she silently scolded herself as the word rang through her head. It isn't that. It just makes sense. It's not a feeling, it's just logical.
She carefully grabbed the long bundle of leather laying at the base of the tattered hammock the man-creature hybrid slept in and left the hold. Once she was up on the deck, she strapped the leather bundle to her waist and began her role in the plan. She started to pull one of the Dutchman's longboats into place. There was no other way off of this ship and they were far out in the open ocean. This was the part of the plan Jessica had the least worries about, simply because there wasn't a single alternative. As suddenly as a hand grasped her shoulder, Jessica had her reacquired sword at the assailant's throat.
"Easy there, Miss Jessica," Bootstrap whispered, holding his hands up.
She dropped her blade and sheathed it.
"Sorry, you startled me is all."
"Where have you been? I thought something had gone wrong when I looked over and didn't see you here."
"There was something I needed to take care of."
"I see…and was that important enough to risk your plan for?" Bootstrap asked, nodding down at her sword.
Jessica gave him a ghost of a smile.
"Will made it for me. When I decided to stay at Port Royal — even before then, really, I didn't have a single thing to call my own. Aside from this," she said, touching the pendant resting against her collarbone. "He wanted me to be protected, just in case anything happened. So he made me this sword. We trained whenever he had the time or needed to test a new order."
She risked smiling in full as the memory came back to her.
"I couldn't bear to leave it here. I had to see if I could find it. Thankfully, I did. It was risky, but, yes, it was important enough to me."
She continued to pull the longboat into place, Bootstrap joining her to hasten the process. Jessica saw him smile at her before turning to the rigging.
It was not long after Jessica and Bootstrap secured the longboat that they saw Will making his way across the deck. Jessica's hand went to the pommel of her sword when she saw the speed at which Will approached. For a moment, she half-expected to see Davy Jones himself on Will's heels. Thankfully, as Will drew nearer, she saw he did not look alarmed. In fact, he looked relieved. She let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding and took her hand off her sword. She smiled when she saw Will place the key around his neck. He had actually done it. They could leave this godforsaken ship.
"Here, take this," Bootstrap said to his son, handing him a small object. "Now, get yourselves to land and stay there."
Jessica saw it was an old knife as Will unsheathed it and looked at it.
"It was always in my blood to die at sea, but it was not a fate I ever wanted for you," Bill Turner continued.
Jessica, not wanting to intrude on their conversation, stepped back and started to let down the longboat. However, it didn't stop her from hearing what was said between father and son.
"It wasn't a fate you had to choose for yourself, either," Will responded.
"Aye. I could say I did what I had to, when I left you to go pirating. But it would taste a lie to say it wasn't what I wanted…you owe me nothing, Will. Now, go."
"They'll know you helped us."
Jessica frowned as Bootstrap chuckled.
"What more can they do to me?" he asked, rhetorically.
"I take this with a promise. I'll find a way to sever Jones' hold on you and not rest until this blade pierces his heart. I will not abandon you…I promise."
Will walked up to Jessica and started helping her lower the longboat. It upset her to see Will looking so forlorn, but she understood. She said nothing as they finished getting the longboat into the water.
"Ready?" Will asked her.
"More than," she responded.
She flashed one last smile at Bootstrap before Will helped her into the longboat. Killing Davy Jones still seemed like a tall order, but she hoped that Bootstrap wouldn't suffer too much at his hand for this.
The Flying Dutchman soon faded from view in the dark of nighttime. If not for the sliver of moonlight that occasionally split through the clouded sky, Jessica would not have even been able to make out Will sitting mere inches in front of her. They were completely alone in the middle of the vast, open ocean. She knew she should feel terrified, but she could only feel contentment. It was as though an enormous weight had been lifted off of her chest. A warmness she had nearly forgotten existed started to fill her muscles, finally chasing the persistent cold away. The more they rowed, the more normal she started to feel.
"How do you feel?" Will asked.
"Better…but tired."
"I thought for sure once we left the Dutchman…"
She didn't need to see Will's face to hear the disappointment in his voice.
"No, no, not like that. No, this isn't the same kind of — it's more like I haven't slept in days. I haven't slept in days, actually."
"Oh. That's good to hear. Not that you haven't slept in days — you know what I mean."
Jessica smiled, letting out a sigh.
"You did it. You actually did it, Will."
"We still have to find Jack…again, but, yes, I'm very glad that's over for now."
There was a long silence between them where only the sound of the waves against their small boat could be heard.
"I can do this on my own for a while. Why don't you get some rest? You really need it, Jess, after everything that happened."
She could plainly hear the tone of concern in his voice and she wasn't about to argue. Her body was no longer under the effects of the Dutchman, but it was clear she needed rest. Jessica pulled herself into the small space between the benches of the longboat. It was far from comfortable, but it would do.
"You know, I wouldn't wish that on anyone, what we just went through. But I'm glad you were with me. I couldn't have done it without you," Will said as she settled in.
Jessica failed to stifle a yawn, "'Course you could have…"
She curled her arms under her head to cushion it from the hard wood of the boat and didn't even remember falling asleep.