Jack stepped from his cabin early the next morning, weary after a night of no sleep. Every time his mind slipped, he'd find himself talking to in a world of Jacks. He couldn't live with it. He forced himself to stay busy and awake. He watched Barbossa at the helm, sighing. He spotted Elizabeth leaning over the railing, miserably looking at the water. As angry as he was with her, he had to feel sorry. He hadn't exactly been very welcoming last night.
Every night, the crew had some kind of party below deck before they went to bed. Jack hasn't attended even one yet, which was surprising because he's usually one for rum. He hadn't even left his cabin the day before. He didn't know why he was out now, but it just felt right to him. Breath in some fresh air after a long night.
Jack walked over to the railing, leaning over it. He was only a few feet away from Elizabeth. He did his best to ignore her, looking at the sun as it rose slowly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her turn her head towards him. She was probably surprised to see him there.
"Jack?" She said.
He sighed, not looking her way.
"You look awful." She told him. "Did you even sleep?"
"No." He replied tonelessly. His eyelids felt heavy, drooping shut. Then his eyes snapped open. He was not going to fall asleep, especially out on deck. He shook his head. "Doesn't matter."
"Are you okay?" Elizabeth asked.
Jack snorted. "Of course not. The Locker has nearly driven me insane. Thank you very much for that." He glared at her, seeing her looking at the wooden planks of the deck, guilt in her eyes. He sighed, repositioning his hat on his head. He might be angry with her, but he heard the harshness to his voice. He glanced at her before looking back out across the water. Then he mumbled,"I'm sorry. I'm just getting used to believing that I'm alive again…"
"I'm sorry too…" She murmured. "I'm the reason all of this has happened."
"I'll get over it eventually." He told her, walking off back towards his cabin slowly. Then he repeated,"Eventually."
He entered his cabin and closed the door, throwing himself in the back corner of the room to prowl through his crazy thoughts. His eyes drifted under the bed, where a stash of rum sat in a chest. He forced himself not to get up and go get a bottle. It wouldn't do him any good. He began to grow more tired the longer he sat there. Fearing of falling asleep, he got to his feet and paced back and forth across the cabin.
Once he felt like he wasn't going to fall asleep on the spot, he sat back in the corner, remembering the moment the kraken ate him.
Searing pain coursed through his body as the creature's many sharp teeth pierced his skin. He saw his own blood leaking down the kraken's throat. He let out a strangled noise, wanting to throw up. His legs were like jelly. He collapsed on the creature's tongue, whimpering in pain. He felt the blood trickling over his skin, not wanting to look down at his probably mutilated body.
He did it anyway. There were cuts and other bloody marks all over his body. His boots were falling apart and his shirt was ripped to shreds. His sword lay a few feet away. He groaned before falling onto his side from where he knelt. His breath came in wheezy gasps. He felt his body sliding as the tongue moved upwards. He tumbled over himself, his vision blurry. He let out his finally cry of pain as a tooth pierced his back, stabbing all the way through his chest. His vision faded.
He let out a strangled noise of fear and shook his head. Maybe he should go for the rum...No. No, he wasn't going to do it. Stay strong, Jackie. He remembered Teague's words. It'll be fine. His mind slipped back to when he first opened his eyes in the Locker.
His eyes snapped open and he sat up, groaning and rubbing his aching head. Everything was so...bright. The blue sky sat above him, the sun burning into his skin. He looked around. He was in some sandy place. How'd he get here? The last thing he remembered was...Oh.
He was dead.
He was in Davy Jones' Locker.
He got to his feet, looking around. In the distance, he saw the faint outline of a ship. Was that his ship? The Pearl? In the Locker?
He smirked his usual smirk and began running towards it.
Jack's eyes snapped open and he shook his head. His body was covered in a cold sweat. He knew that wasn't even a horrible memory. But it was the start of his horrible, lonely time in there. His stomach growled, yet he ignored it.
He wasn't going to drink.
He wasn't going to eat.
It wouldn't change anything, he was already suffering enough, thanks to Miss Swann.
Someone knocked on his door. "Captain?" Gibbs called through the door. "Open up! Ye can't stay in there forever, Jack!"
"No, no, no…" He muttered, wanting the man to leave him alone. "Go away!"
"Ye heard me, Jack." The man persisted. "Now open the door before I do it meself."
"Go ahead…" He said to himself. "I'm not going anywhere."
