DISCLAIMER: Please don't make me say it again. It's getting really depressing now. Really sorry I couldn't come up with a song for this chapter…
A/n: I'm not going to be writing the entire song now. It's getting a little long. And kind of ridiculous. So I'm just writing the part that best fits the chapter. On with the story! And please review…sniff
Chapter 4Half an hour later, Jack was still sitting outside, but now on a log. With his dagger, he began gouging random lines in the wood. They formed something that looked like a tree of waving lines. Jack cocked his head and studied it a while longer. It seemed to represent something. He just wasn't sure what.
After a while, Jack rose to his feet and walked back to the hut. "Rum…need rum," he muttered. The door shut behind him with a bang, and he was relieved to find the kitchen empty. He rummaged (a/n: Ha ha, get it? RUMmaged? Like pillaging for rum? I know I'm weird. Carry on.) through the cabinets, coming across one that held plates and bowls, another with pots, and a third carrying, for no apparent reason, a stuffed crocodile. In the fourth cabinet, what Jack found nearly made him laugh with giddiness. It was jam-packed with rum.
He grabbed a couple of bottles and sat down at the table. With his thumb and forefinger, he popped out the cork, grabbed the neck of the bottle, and took a healthy swig. Jack sat with his eyes fixed on the little whorls in the grain of the wood, savoring the strong rum and the silence. He couldn't figure whether he forgave Elizabeth or not. He couldn't figure his emotions toward her. It was different than with the women in Tortuga; they had been young and beautiful, and happened to tickle Jack's fancy at the time. Elizabeth was young and beautiful, and also happened to tickle his fancy. But it seemed more than that.
"No wonder it's bad luck to have a woman aboard a ship!" he growled, shaking his fist at a non-existent Gibbs. He took another swig of rum.
A scene started to replay itself in his head, no matter how hard he tried to beat it down.
Elizabeth moved toward him. "Thank you, Jack."
"We're not out of this yet, luv," he reminded her heavily.
"You came back."
He turned around to find her closer to him than he had ever expected her to be.
"I always knew you were a good man."
And she kissed him.
Something sparked inside him as the intensity of it hit him at the same time the mast did. As her hand moved down his left arm, something told him to throw her off, to run away, but the triumph of the moment couldn't be overcome.
Until he heard the click of the manacle and felt the cold iron on his wrist.
Elizabeth pulled away. "This is the only way, don't you see?" she said pleadingly. "It's after you, not the ship. It's not us."
He smiled knowingly. "Pirate."
Elizabeth touched her nose to his one last time. "I'm not sorry." And she walked away. He made to follow her, but the tug of the chain brought him back. He wasn't getting out of this one alive. But Captain Jack Sparrow wasn't going down without a fight.
He caught up a lantern on the blade of his sword and smashed it. The oil dripped over his wrist, and he began to twist free. Finally, with his numerous rings turned around the wrong way, his wrist slipped from the iron manacle. He grinned in delight. Then he felt hot breath on his neck. He turned around.
The kraken roared. Saliva and mucus spewed from its mouth and lathered Jack in a slimy coating. He shivered, then pulled the gunk from his eyes and mouth. "Not so bad." Then he spotted a hat at his feet; the very hat he had lost when this all started. "Oh!" he exclaimed happily, placing it on his head at a jaunty angle. He stared the kraken down, determination making his eyes clear. Jack grinned and unsheathed his sword. "Hello, beastie."
Jack slammed the bottle of rum on the table. "Why can't you just go away, bugger it!"
"I'm sorry…"
Jack turned around so quickly he cricked his neck. "Er…" he said awkwardly, rubbing the sore spot. "Right words, wrong situation?" he offered helpfully. Elizabeth continued to stare. "What, 'ave I got gum on me forehead or something that I don't know of?" Jack said.
"Your kohl is running," Elizabeth whispered finally.
Jack cursed and brushed by her on his way upstairs.
She remained in the doorway a moment longer before going to sit in the recently vacated seat and uncorking the second bottle. Was what she saw actually true? Had Jack been…crying? It seemed impossible…and yet it was true. Something had happened to reduce the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow to tears. And Elizabeth was determined to find out what.
Upstairs, Jack was still muttering incoherently to himself, a curse to be caught here and there. "God, no wonder pirates are always single," he mumbled, wiping away the smeared kohl. That done, he staggered into his room, a bit tipsy now half the rum was gone. He shut the door and plopped down on the bed, the bottle already at his lips. He let the remaining liquid slosh to the bottom.
Jack smirked and began humming. "We're devils, we're black sheep, and really bad eggs….Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me." His grin widened. "REALLY…bad eggs."
He downed more rum, and was soon dancing drunkenly around the room and singing loudly. Another loud voice joined his from the landing in chorus: "YO HO, YO HO, A PIRATE'S LIFE FOR ME!"
Jack's shoulder collided with the door, and he opened it, stumbling into a clumsy do-si-do with Elizabeth. They both swung themselves into the wall, giggling. It reminded Jack of a time the two had spent together, marooned on an island. He stopped laughing.
Elizabeth looked at him. "Shall we sing another?"
In answer, Jack lurched away from the wall and into his room, slamming the door shut and sitting back on the bed. Yes, he was still angry. He admitted it.
He snatched the rum from a bedside table, finished it off in a single gulp, and passed out.
Elizabeth stared confusedly at the door behind which Jack had disappeared. They had been having such a good time…was her singing really that bad? Then she came back to her senses and to a realization. He didn't love her. He never had. And now…he hated her. While she was still in love with him.
She stifled a sob, slammed the door with a bang to rival Jack's, and threw herself upon the bed.
When unconsciousness faded into sleep, and sleep into dreams, Jack's were ravaged by images of Hell. Sometimes he felt as if her were back there. He woke, stifling yells of pain, only to find that there was no pain. Sometimes he woke to find that his memories were really in the past, and not happening at that very moment. Visions of the woman who had spoken to him, each one different and each one hideously beautiful, danced hauntingly through his thoughts.
One nightmare brought him to a room of stone like hardened lava. On either side of a throne of the same material sat two black stone bowls, flames of black burning in their centers.
On the throne was a woman. Her hair was a rich honey color. In it were tow black streaks, framing her porcelain-like face. Her eyes were blue, a blue so deep and icy that it seemed to carry an ocean of depths that even the bravest pirate would not dare sail. Her lips were full, daubed with the blood of her latest victim. The dress hugged the woman's form perfectly, its deep maroon silk complimenting her pure white skin. It fell loosely from her hips and cascaded down to the floor.
The lips smiled. "Jack Sparrow."
Jack stayed quiet.
"Do you not know who I am? No? Then let me tell you. I am the woman of you worst nightmares. And yet I reflect your desires, do I not? Dangerous. Mysterious. Independent.
"You ran from me, Jack. And you escaped. I don't appreciate it when men leave me for another woman."
"God, I've 'ad it with the bloody riddles. What's your name?" Jack asked boldly. A flash of pain struck him and then faded.
"You have asked, and I shall tell you. I am Lady Hel."
"That's an interesting name. Why'd yer parents decide to call you that?"
"I have no parents," the woman said coldly.
"Oh. So how'd ye come to be 'ere, then?"
"That is not for you to know. Now Jack, I am not very happy with you. I want your soul back."
"And why would I do that?"
"Because I request it. No. I demand it. It is my job – and my pleasure – to collect departed souls and inflict torture on them until the end of time. You have not served your sentence."
"I've 'ad more'n enough pain to last me till the end of time, thanks very much. I'd rather come at my own pace."
The bowls of fire flared until they were twice Jack's height. Hel stood.
"You will come, and on my time, Jack Sparrow." She pointed at Jack, and a glittering ruby ring appeared on his finger.
"Not another bloody spot. I've 'ad enough of those with Jones," Jack muttered, tugging fruitlessly at the ring.
"I will be seeing you soon, Mr. Sparrow," Hel said. "You have seven days. One week."
"Captain. Captain Spar-" Jack started, but the vision was cut off in a blaze of flames.
Jack's eyes flew open. The first thing he became aware of was that his entire body was soaked with sweat. The next was that his fists were clenched. He quickly unclenched them.
Though it felt stupid, he checked both hands for the ruby ring. He let out a colorful mix of swears and pirate curses. There, on his left ring finger as though he were to be wed, was the ring. Jack let out another vivid swear and clattered down the stairs.
Elizabeth was not to be found in the kitchen, the living room, nor any other room in the hut. "Bloody HECK!" he bellowed. (a/n: Of course, 'heck' was not Jack's exact word of choice. But we will be keeping it this way to keep ratings low.)
Jack stormed outside and around the perimeter of the hut and sighed. Nothing. Resigning himself to the worst after one last search inside and outside, Jack clambered into the boat and started towards Tia Dalma's tree house.
A/N: Well, there you are. Hope you liked it. I know Jack is very OOC right now, but wouldn't you be too if you had just gotten back from hell? He will get better in later chapters, I promise you. Please please please review…it makes me so happy.