DISCLAIMER:No, potc STILL isn't mine. HOW many BLOODY times do I have to SAY IT!
A/N: Hi, all. Thanks to all those who have left me these loverly reviews…they make me feel so good! Updates will probably only be on weekends unless I have a lucky day where my teachers don't give me that much homework and I have time. But that probably won't be all that often. Very sorry about that…couldn't think of lyrics for this chapter either…slipping in my old age, huh? dodges tomato
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
As the day wore on, the Silver Mermaid sailed farther and faster away from Tortuga. The waters grew murkier. The crew began to get nervous. Even Jack was on pins and needles, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end at all times.
Gibbs passed out rations in the middle of the day. Jack refused his own and the rest ate and drank in silence. As the evening drew to a close, the smell of brine settled heavier than ever, and the water had turned black. There was still no sign of land in any direction.
Gibbs climbed anxiously to the helm. "Cap'n, how much longer until we reach this island?" he asked.
"Maybe an hour, maybe two," Jack said confidently. Gibbs looked around in surprise. There was no land but horizon. He repeated his thoughts to the captain. "You 'eard me. Now get down there an' see if we can't get a bit more speed from those sails," Jack ordered. Gibbs hurriedly relayed the orders to the crew. Jack had been in a mood ever since they had set out, being harder than usual on the men.
"Cap'n…is there somethin' that's botherin' ye?" Gibbs said.
"Other than the fact that two afterlives are clamoring for my soul to torture, nothing, Mr. Gibbs, nothing at all," Jack snarled, tilting the wheel to avoid a large rock. "Here we are. This is the island."
"Where?" Gibbs said.
"That rock."
"SAIL HO!"
Jack's eyes snapped up. "Colors?" he shouted.
"None!"
"Jack, it's the Dutchman!" Will called, pausing in his adjustments of a sail.
"Good. We're making good time. Five days," Jack mumbled.
"Five days?" Gibbs repeated.
"Five days until that bloody she-devil gets me. Or at least tries to."
"She-devil? Are ye talkin' of Lady Hel?"
"Bingo. Fly a flag of truce."
"Run up the white flag!" Gibbs yelled. Now all of the crew could see the Flying Dutchman moored up ahead, and nerves tingled.
"I hate being sober," Jack muttered. "Gibbs, fetch me a bottle of rum."
"I'm not so sure that's the best idea, Cap'n, what with Jones bein' after ye," Gibbs hesitated.
"Not when he hears what I've got to tell 'im. In fact, he'll be bloody encouraging me. Go."
Soon, with the white flag of truce over their heads and a bottle of rum in Jack's hand, the Silver Mermaid came abreast of the Flying Dutchman. It was then that Davy Jones decided to use his rather unwanted talent for appearing on other ships. He popped into existence in front of Jack, his eyes wide with disbelief. "How did you get here?"
"Well, it seems to me that that would be quite obvious, seeing as the both of us are standing on it," Jack said.
Jones sniffed. "Why have you come to speak with me?"
"Well, number one, it seems that you 'ave an acquaintance of mine captive on your ship. Secondly, it also seems that you would know how we would get to one Lady Hel."
"What dealings have you with that witch?"
Jack somewhat reluctantly held out his left hand. Jones smiled knowingly. "So you seek to destroy her. How long has she given you?"
"A week," Jack said. "Five days left."
"Oh, she must hate you. She normally gives them a month.," Jones grinned.
"All the more better. Which also means time's a-wasting. Are you going to help us or not?" Jack snapped.
"I will help you if you bring the heart," Jones said quickly.
"Ah. And therein lies the problem," Jack countered with a smirk. "I have only five days and not a fast enough ship."
"I know where this is going," Jones said slowly. "You want the Pearl."
"It is the fastest ship in the Caribbean," Jack wheedled. "It would get us back here all the more quicker…."
Jones did not answer immediately. He looked Jack up and down, his beard curling thoughtfully to stroke his own chin, as though sizing the pirate up. Jack continued staring right into Jones's eyes, so intensely that it unnerved the other man. "We have an accord," Jones said finally. "Your have five days until Hel sends her demons for you. The Pearl will be raised tonight." Just as quickly as he had appeared, he vanished from the deck.
"What now?" Will's voice said.
Without looking around, Jack said, "We moor here for the night. And we wait."
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Hurried footsteps were coming down the stairs. Elizabeth pressed herself against the bars of the brig as Bootstrap Bill came into view. "Will is here," he said breathlessly. "And Jack as well."
"Where?" Elizabeth asked.
"Here," said a familiar voice. Will and Jack stepped into the room together.
"You came!" Elizabeth exclaimed, though she was not sure to which man she said it.
"Look, Elizabeth, we haven't got much time. We're getting you out of here," Will said, positioning himself near the bars.
"What does Jones want with me?" Elizabeth questioned.
"He wants Jack to get the heart," Will said.
"Which, unfortunately, we only have five bloody days to do," Jack put in from his spot against the cell across from Elizabeth's.
"Five days!" Elizabeth shouted in outrage. "Five days! How can he give you only five bloody days!"
"It wasn't 'im who gave us the time limit; he wouldn't 'ave 'ad one, if I know his desperation to find that heart," Jack said mysteriously. Elizabeth tried to coax a more specific answer from his eyes, but they were completely emotionless.
"What can I do?" she said helplessly.
"Wait," Will said grimly. "Wait and hope to God we make it."
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Will slept badly that night. He tossed and turned, and just when he'd get to sleep, the low rumble of an organ and an eerie, deep-voiced chanting would grow louder and jolt him awake. He finally resigned himself to the fact that he would get no sleep that night and went out on deck.
The smell of salt had intensified so much that Will's nostrils ached when he took his first breath of night air. Leaning his elbows on the rail, he wrinkled his nose in disgust.
"Pretty bad-smelling when they do this. Same thing happened last time."
Will drew in a sharp breath, hissed out the sickening smell of brine, and turned around. Jack was leaning back on the railing so that he faced Will. Will noticed something haggard about the pirate's eyes and the few extra lines around his nose that he couldn't quite place. Was it the fear of the hunter turned hunted? Before he could stop himself, Will was asking the question that the entire crew had been clamoring to know. "Jack…what happened down there?"
Jack's features instantly hardened. "Why do you want to know?"
"Curiosity," Will admitted. Jack flinched slightly.
"Well, I suppose you'll have to stay that way until trumpets sound and beyond, then, won't you?" he said, looking back out over the water.
Will opened his mouth to reply, but anything he might have said was drowned out by a loud sucking noise. He followed Jack's gaze to an enormous whirlpool. Its middle was as dark as the blackest depths. It was swirling so quickly that its edges were laced with white foam. It had to be sixty feet wide. Will looked nervously over at Jack, but the older man didn't seem to mind the whirlpool at all.
The dark bow of a ship emerged from the center of the swirling vortex. It was followed by a figurehead depicting a lady holding a bird, and then a broken mast carrying black sails. The second half of the ship sprang up slightly to the side of the first.
Chanting rolled through the air like growling thunder. The organ was struck louder than ever. The whirlpool disintegrated. The two halves of the ship moved together and formed a smooth fit. The masts slowly creaked upright without leaving the slightest trace they had ever been snapped. The holes in the sails patched themselves with dark fabric. The organ music guttered like a candle in a storm and silenced itself. The chanting halted abruptly. All was quiet. The Black Pearl floated in between the Flying Dutchman and the Silver Mermaid as if it had been there all along.
Jack was smiling faintly to himself. Will, hoping to be able to sleep for the rest of the night, silently returned to his cabin, leaving Jack to admire his newly repaired ship.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Jack felt that no words, no matter how colorful and laced with gold, could describe the joy he felt when the Black Pearl's hull had breached. He leaned quietly on the railing of the Silver Mermaid and reveled in the sight of his beloved ship. Then, with practiced ease, he silently lowered a longboat into the water. He set two oars in the oarlocks and gently propelled the longboat away.
Jack could smell the beautiful scent of the Pearl's wood as he climbed the ladder and stepped on the deck. He moved over to a certain mast and caressed the jagged gouges in the wood. His rough fingertips roved over a sharp piece. Hissing in pain, he removed the finger and sucked on it. Soon, though, Jack's fingers fluttered back to the piece. He grasped it between his thumb and forefinger and pulled it out. It was a piece of glass, specifically from a lantern. Jack slipped the piece into an inside pocket of his long coat.
Automatically, he fingered a thick bit of raised skin on the inside of his left arm. And suddenly, there he was, drawing his sword and stepping forward to meet his death, the teeth of the kraken tearing gleefully at his skin and bones while he refused to scream for mercy…
Jack's hand moved to the still closed handcuff and gripped it tightly until it made angry red marks in his palm. It was as cold and merciless as it had been on that fateful day, sending a slow chill shivering down his spine. He moved away from the mast and up to the helm.
Jack took hold of the wheel and rubbed it with his thumb, knowing every whorl and twist and turn of the grain to the point of foolishness. It fit perfectly to his hand, as though it had been made for him.
Jack Sparrow was fifteen years old. It was the perfect day for sailing. The sea was calm, and even though the ship was still tied to the dock, Jack imagined that its sails were taut and full of air. He had wanted to be captain of a ship since he had known what it was. And not just any ship; a pirate ship. He stood at the helm, his legs apart for balance, and rubbed his hands over the smooth wood.
The rasp of a sword being drawn turned him around.
"Get away from that wheel, kid!" the captain warned.
Jack put his hands up innocently. "Sorry, I just thought it was such a pretty ship," he said. The captain jabbed at him. He leaned back so that he was nearly in half. "No need to get so feisty, mate. I was only admiring your ship," Jack said, cautiously unsheathing his own sword. The man was obviously drunk; Jack would have to deal with him carefully.
The captain advanced slowly. Jack easily dodged the clumsy attacks thrown at him, feeling no need to parry them and actually engage. Suddenly, the heel of Jack's boot found the edge of a stair, and he tripped, tumbling backwards and landing hard on his back. He balanced himself on his elbows, shaking his head. Then his eyes widened in horror.
The captain fell forward, all four limbs flailing.
Jack was frozen in shock.
The captain impaled himself on Jack's sword with a funny choking noise.
The weight of the man nearly crushed him. Warm, thick blood soaked his hands and made a spreading stain over his clothes. The captain gave a final jerk and fell still.
Jack's eyes and mouth were permanently wide open. The crew was starting to gather around, mumbling. With difficulty, Jack rolled the dead man off of himself. He got to his feet and walked away, tears burning the corners of his eyes. He walked quickly down the gangplank and onto the dock. He left the sword; he didn't want it as a reminder. Blood dripped steadily from his clenched fists.
Jack took a quick glance at the gaping sailors and began to run. He ran through the village and broke the stares as though his head were a battering ram, tears streaming down his face. He had gone quite a ways out of the village when he realized something was poking him in the side. Part of a rib had caught in the sash around his waist.
Jack slowed to a stop on the empty dirt road. He picked out the bone and scraped it over a rock. Every once in a while he would turn it. When he looked at it again, it was smooth and pure white, not a trace of blood left on it anywhere.
Jack wove the smooth bone into a section of his hair, where it stuck out at an odd angle. It would serve as a reminder until the day he died.
Jack reached up and touched the bone. It was cold. He rubbed the wheel again, creating a warm spot to rest his hand on. He looked up at the pitch-black sky, dotted with perfect, clear diamonds. He couldn't help the corner of his mouth turning up slightly. Everything was so peaceful…why was it that tomorrow he had to engage in a race against time and death itself? Death was becoming a formidable contestant; one so formidable that even Jack was having a hard time eluding its icy clutch.
The moon, round and silvery-white, was at its zenith. Jack stood still for a while and enjoyed the sight, the smell of the Black Pearl's wood tingling in his nostrils, and thought long and hard, and of many different things. He thought of memories, recent and not so recent, long ago and not so long ago. He thought of feelings and the puzzle of emotions that even he could not piece together. He thought of pain and peace. He thought of ways out of his most recent problem. He thought of Tia Dalma's ominous words of the Lady Hel. He thought of the kraken's putrid breath. He thought of the Black Pearl. He thought of Elizabeth.
Jack Sparrow threw himself upon the deck of the Black Pearl and yelled his frustration and sorrow to the sea.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Elizabeth watched the longboat touch the water and smiled.
It quickly moved off, and she could make out Jack's silhouette carefully rowing. She watched him climb onto the deck and make his way over to a mast. He slipped something into his coat and stood still for a moment, and then walked up to the wheel, his hand roving over every bit of wood it could reach.
Elizabeth smiled again when he caressed the wheel in his usual fashion. Then he stood stock still for a long time, so long that Elizabeth thought he must be frozen or paralyzed. Finally, he moved to reach up to his head and touch something. He rubbed the wheel again, as though comforting himself. He watched the stars. Elizabeth was happy that he seemed so peaceful for once.
She stifled a cry of pain when the pirate fell forwards onto the deck. A rough yell echoed across the water. It haunted Elizabeth to know that she had caused the confusion and sadness that were hidden in the cry.
A/N: There ya go. Hope you all liked it! Leave me some love, the next chappie will be up even quicker if you do...I have part of the huge final battle scene playing in my head, and NONE of you are going to like it. At first. I shall reveal no more than the name of the next chapter: The Sea Serpent Speaks and Bootstrap is Freed. REVIEW! YARR!