For a moment, Jack leaned against the door with his eyes closed. The room felt like it was spinning around him. He covered his face with his hands as if trying to block what was happening. He regained his composure and looked at the dimly lit room. There were only the walls, the rain splattered window, two candelabrums with three candles each, towels hanging on a rack, some dressing cloths from the previous day most likely, and a white three-legged porcelain tub.
Outside, lightning flashed and cackled through the raging storm. Shadows formed around the room, playing with Jack's mind. He shook himself and swiped the shirt away in one fluid moment.
"And really bad eggs," Jack mumbled when he just dropped the shirt on the clean floor. "Drink up me hearties, yo ho. That's pretty catchy."
Jack grabbed the dressing cloth from the stand and fumbled to wrap it around him. Once he was satisfied with it, he noticed how the somewhat whitened cloth had many light brown stains on it. They almost looked like fingerprints. Jack looked at his hands and saw that they were indeed filthy. He looked back at the dressings and found that blood seeped through the cloth forming dots that soon joined into one large one that stained the cloth.
"I think I'll be needing a few more," Jack said grimly. He tore off the makeshift bandage and hastily grabbed more of the dressing cloths.
Jack sat on the rim of the three-legged tub and looked at the cloth. He looked like he deciding whether or not he should throw another on him only for it to be soaked through. Instead, he laid his back on the two sides of the tub's rims and he set the dressing cloth on the wound. He didn't feel like wasting all that energy to put the cloth on. Jack could feel himself bleeding slowly, his life being wasted away because of the sparrow that flew away. The blood drips down onto the bottom of the tub splattering the white tub red.
"Where does it all come from?" Jack wondered out loud.
He has been like this for days and yet he seems to have an endless amount of blood. He has shot men in various ranges and yet they have fallen on the spot, but he was different. Jack didn't know if this was Tia Dalma's doing, a very late after effect of the cursed gold of Cortez, or because he already died. It certainly wasn't the gold's doing because Barbossa and some of his crew died that night, but Barbossa did come back from the dead because of Tia's doing. Perhaps some wizard or something cursed him.
Jack grabbed something from the inside of his sash and found Gibbs flask. He looked around suspiciously before taking a long and final swig from the now empty flask. He let the rum numb the thoughts from his mind as darkness clouded over him.
"Jack," Elizabeth pounded on his door.
No one answered from the other side of the door. It was unnaturally quiet in there.
"Governor Swann," one of the officers said getting her attention. She hated it when people referred to her as that, it made her think of her father.
"Yes? You wouldn't happen to know why Mister Sparrow refuses to answer my calls?"
"As a matter of fact, we do."
Elizabeth cocked an eye and turned her full attention to the somewhat older man, but lesser authority. Scenarios played out in her mind as to what Jack could have conned or tricked these men into doing for him.
"He hasn't escaped if that is what you were thinking," the second officer said quickly.
"He went to take a bath, we believe," the first officer said nodding towards the door besides Elizabeth.
"That was perhaps ten minutes ago. We thought he needed his privacy. He didn't look too well," the second officer said.
"But the chambermaids have not prepared the water for our guest. There is nothing of value for Jack...The window! Jack Sparrow!"
No one answered on the other side of the door and it was quiet in there also. She thought she saw a flicker of the candle light inside there under the crack in the door.
"Jack, are you decent? I'm coming in," Elizabeth said.
She realized that this is what Jack might have wanted: for her to see him naked. She hesitated at the door, but opened it despite of what just crossed her mind. Elizabeth was prepared for a naked Jack waiting for her, but the site before her almost made tears form in her eyes.
The first thing she noticed was the shirt on the floor. Not good. No sign of his trousers on the floor. Good. Blood drops on the floor. Not good. Jack laying on top of the tub. She couldn't decide what that was, but Elizabeth held her breath to the still form of Captain Jack Sparrow.
"Jack?"
Nothing. No response.