A/N: Less talk, more action this chapter. LOTS of action. So…hope you like it, leave a kind review when you finish. And I can't think of any lyrics to describe this chapter…sorry….
DISCLAIMER: The usual. ((cries))
Chapter 13Jack never got to sleep that night. He decided to go outside again after the first dream. He sat cross-legged on the deck and watched the moon's steady progress across the sky. It was the longest night of his life. The most boring, too.
There was a soft gray light in the east when he heard the growling cough. Jack's hand went automatically to his cutlass and he turned around. He had barely enough time to register a pair of glittering eyes before the demon sprang. Jack unsheathed his sword, rolled to his feet, and-
He was bowled over by a hairy mass of fangs, limbs, and leathery wings. The demon snarled at him and made a slash in his arm. Jack snarled back and beheaded it. The head rolled off across the wood. The arms went to the headless neck and felt it gingerly. A gurgle of distress bubbled from the creature's throat and Jack threw it overboard, along with the head. The limbs thrashed for a moment and went still. Black liquid fizzled on the deck.
"Nasty," Jack commented. "Very nasty."
Nasty indeed, giggled a voice. Jack groaned. His headache was back.
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Dark shapes were floating amiably through the water. What looked like thing black cloth flowed around their outlines. Small, beady eyes shone dully from deep sockets. Yellowed fangs slid from between parched lips. The flimsy black cloth was left behind. Human limbs elongated. Leathery wings burst from their shoulder blades. Short, dark fur sprouted on their bodies. Hands reached up and, with their newly grown claws, grasped the wood of a ship.
Moaning with bloodlust, Hel's servants began to scale the side of the Black Pearl.
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"Listen, Sparrow. They come."
Moaning, the crackling of joints and wood.
"I will give you what is necessary to send you down. Stay still until you can see her. Then you can try something. Got it?"
"Got it. I need to tell the lovely Miss Swann something first."
"Make it fast."
Jack beckoned to Elizabeth. "Listen, Elizabeth. I'm guessing the demons will disappear as soon as I kill Hel. When that happens, go into my cabin. You will see a metal box on the table. Choose a random lever and push it down. All right? No time to explain. Good luck." All this was murmured at top speed into Elizabeth's ear. She nodded.
"Right. Take this," Jones said, holding out a small stone. "It will take you to her chamber, nothing more. When you kill her – or if you kill her – you will be taken back to this spot on the deck. I wouldn't normally say this, but the best of luck to you. Here."
Elizabeth stood as though she would have flung her arms around Jack were he not so angry with her as he took the stone. It seared his palm. He yelped and tried to let go, but he could not unclench his fingers. It felt as though he were being squashed through a metal pipe that was far too small for him. Then, with a loud popping noise, he was falling through the air, landing hard on his shoulder. A haze around him cleared to show Hel sitting on her stone chair, this time in a black dress. Jack stood up.
Hel smiled. "So. You, like so many before you, seek to destroy me," she stated. Her voice was so warm and sweet, but there was an underlying cold there. "But before you try…I would like to offer you something.
Jack narrowed his eyes. "Of what nature?"
"Doubtless you know of my past dealings with Davy Jones."
"Of course."
"And I know what a powerful ally you could be against him, not to mention good for conversation and the like. I would like to offer you a position beside me. As my equal."
"Tempting. But I'll have to say no."
"No." Hel seemed perfectly happy with the answer. "If you insist. But I must ask you…how is it you plan on killing me? I always find this amusing."
"Amusing that so many people would like to kill you? Or amusing as in the foolish plans that those people come up with?" Jack said evasively.
"A bit of both," Hel told him. "Mostly I ask in dreams, for not many make it this far. I must say it gets rather tedious, the same thing, day after day. So I welcome a challenge. If you were here, it would be far less tiring. We could talk and do things together. Why not?"
"The answer's still no. I don't take a particular pleasure in torturing people. That much," Jack added.
Hell sighed, showing canines a bit pointier than normal. "I had hoped that I wouldn't have to bring out my little surprise for you," she said, though her tone suggested quite the opposite. "If you wish to get to me, you must go through…this." Hel snapped her fingers once. With a shuffle, something behind her throne got to its feet. Jack's hand went to his sword. A booted foot extended out, followed by the form of a young woman. She seemed familiar. Jack squinted at her. The woman slowly walked up to him and drew her sword.
"Hello, Jack."
It was Elizabeth.
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The door creaked slowly open. Through it floated screams and cries of triumph, from humans and demons alike. Will suspiciously eyed the empty doorframe, squinting a little at the light. A scrabbling noise made him look up – at the empty ceiling. Something behind him was breathing in deep, growling breaths. Now it was right over his head. Will groped desperately for his sword on the little table next to his hammock. He felt the hilt, grasped it –
The demon dropped down on him. Will shouted and tried to throw it off with his free hand while shaking his sword, with agonizing slowness, from its sheath. A searing, blinding pain in his shoulder told him that the demon had bitten him. He could tell that the sheath was on the very tip of the sword; he swung it up, battering his attacker over the head with it and slashing at any part he could reach.
The demon's teeth must have been poison. Will could feel it seeping through his body, slowing his reflexes and earning him a gash on the side of his face and a few other cuts. He knocked the demon to the floor. It howled its displeasure and began to scuttle up the wall again. Will shifted into a sitting position and, shaking, raised his sword one more time.
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Jack smiled. "'Ello, Judas."
Elizabeth smiled back. "I'm not sorry," she said. And this time, there was no remorse in her eyes, no heavy tears burdening her throat. It was different. Very different.
Elizabeth attacked with surprising speed and strength for one of her size. Her sword clashed with Jack's and jarred him backwards. "Been working with weights, lass?" he asked, parrying another blow. Elizabeth ignored everything but Jack's sword and his step. "Oh, come on. You've got to at least keep up a good conversation while you're fighting. Otherwise it gets boring."
"Really, Mr. Sparrow? What shall we talk about, then?"
"How about that thing creeping up behind you?"
Elizabeth glanced back, and Jack managed a nice cut on her forearm. She launched herself at him once more. Then she stopped, staring at something over Jack's shoulder, eyes narrowed. "You," she growled.
"Not falling for it," Jack informed her. For some reason, though, he couldn't bring himself to attack her. There was a small chink of stone on stone behind him. Jack turned his head back for a glimpse of whatever was there. He swiveled around fully. And fell to his knees in awe.
Standing before him was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen before. It seemed to be made from spun moonlight and clouds, but strong and majestic, not weak or flimsy in the slightest. It shone with a pure white light that bathed the chamber in an unearthly glow. A single spiraling horn of pearly texture thrust forth from the creature's forehead. Gigantic snow-white wings flared around its muscular body, quivering. The winged unicorn gave a trumped of defiance that shook the walls of the chamber with its echoes. Jack felt strangely compelled to bow to the creature; he inclined his head. The creature gave a powerful snort and tossed its huge head.
Jack heard a low, throaty growl behind him. He turned around, getting to his feet. Elizabeth was shimmering, her form melting and spreading in a mist that shaped itself and drew away to reveal a jet black dragon, curled horns jutting from the sides of its head. Hel looked almost afraid.
"You're on the opposite side of the balance. Why didn't you tell me?"
"Balance? What balance? I'm always off-balance," Jack said.
"The balance that keeps the world as it is. You keep the good in the world. I give it its bitter aftertaste. You didn't know?"
"I know the bitter aftertaste part, having experienced it myself. But me? Good? How d'you figure that? I'm a bloody pirate. A scallywag. Terror of the seven seas and all that trash."
"I don't figure it. But now I know. No one else could call that…creature."
"Yeah, speaking of, what exactly are they?"
"Made purely of good and kindness, and evil and spite."
A terrible snarl sounded; the ebony dragon heaved itself into the air and hurtled towards the winged unicorn. In an instant, a sleek, icy white dragon was corkscrewing away. The two spiraled into the air, clawing and snapping at each other, performing an aerial dance whose next step depended on those of your partner.
Hel stared into Jack's eyes. He stared back, struggling to repel her mind with all his might. Fatigue settled into his bones. Nevertheless, he grasped his cutlass tighter and lashed out. His blade was halted with a jarring clang. Hel leaped furiously to her feet and attacked, driving a slowly weakening Jack to the back of the chamber. She flourished a whip, which crackled with flame, and gave it a flick in his direction; Jack only just managed to dodge it, hopping up the first two stairs and slipping on their glassy stone surface – and falling – and sliding away, scrambling to his feet before Hel could reach him.
She attacked him again, her strength outstripping his own.
No fair, you're stronger, Elizabeth complained.
Then use your size and speed to defeat me instead of going at me straight on like you did, Jack said.
Jack ducked Hel's blade and rolled, swinging his sword wildly, only to be caught on the back by the very tip of Hel's sword.
Above, the white dragon was nicked by the dark one's claws.
Jack threw himself at his opponent straight from the floor, a feat that, in the state he was in, surprised even him. Teeth gritted with effort, he fought with all he had, sapping away more and more strength until-
Hel lifted her hand, causing Jack to collapse onto the floor. He writhed in agony. His bones were on fire. His head pounded. His limbs jerked. He threw up and closed his eyes tight. The pain persisted. Slowly, shivering and doubled up in agony, he stood up, straightened. "I'm not as weak as you might think," Jack growled through his teeth.
Hel sneered. "You're not as strong as you think, either."
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Elizabeth threw off the demon's arms and ran her cutlass through its chest. It squealed and dropped to the deck. She slashed furiously at a gigantic, hairy, muscular one that was easily overpowering Gibbs. It looked around at her, and Gibbs took the opportunity to behead it.
A fat drop splashed on Elizabeth's head. She looked up at the dark clouds overhead and received another drop on her nose. The skies opened up, and the rain began to pour.
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Hel flicked the whip again, and this time it caught Jack around his middle. He stumbled back; Hel murmured something; the whip crackled with flame once more. It scored a deeper gouge across his chest. He fell to the ground and made no attempt to rise again. Hel gave a twisted grin of triumph and swooped down.
Jack ignored the pain racking all parts of his body. As Hel came down on him, he thrust his cutlass upward with all his remaining strength.
In the air, the winged unicorn darted forwards.
The dark dragon opened its mouth in a silent scream as it plummeted down, down, and faded into ash.
Hel stared silently at the sword protruding from her chest. You, she mouthed. You will pay. She grasped the sword in her shaking white hands and pulled it out. It clattered to the floor and lay there, stained red with blood. More of the crimson liquid spilled in pulses from Hel's chest. She looked at Jack once more and sank to the floor.
Jack, unable to move for pain, simply lay.
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Elizabeth pushed the sopping hair from her eyes and quietly slipped into Jack's cabin. On the table, as he had said, was the metal box. She chose a lever and shoved it down. A roar of pain reached her from outside, and she knew exactly what she had done. Elizabeth tiptoed to the door to see Davy Jones clutching his chest and gasping. "Curse you Jack Sparrow!" he bellowed. He gave one final jerk and fell to the deck. His crew fell with him, becoming nothing more that chunks of dead sea life.
In the distance, the Flying Dutchman crumbled into hundreds and hundreds of white corpses.
And in the middle of the deck lay Jack, his white shirt stained with blood, unmoving.
"No," Elizabeth moaned. "No, no, no, no…" Gibbs had already discovered his captain and was dragging Jack's body towards the cabin. "I should have known…I should have gone with him…" Elizabeth scolded herself, dashing back out into the deluge to help Gibbs.
"He's in a bad way. Barely breathin'," the first mate said grimly, laying Jack on the bed.
"He's alive?" Elizabeth asked incredulously.
"Aye. But only just." Gibbs carefully untucked Jack's shirt and tugged it off. "Get some rum and a rag to clean this out with," he said, shaking his dripping hair from his eyes.
Elizabeth didn't dare look at what "this" was, but instead hurried to find the requested items. When she returned, Gibbs dipped the rag into the rum and rubbed it gently through Jack's wound.
"There's nothin' more ye can do. Go on to yer cabin and I'll call ye if 'e wakes up."
Glad for an excuse to get away, Elizabeth did so immediately.
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The first thing Jack was aware of was that someone was cleaning out his wound, and apparently with rum, because it stung like mad. The second was that he was dying, slowly wasting away. He opened his eyes and looked at Gibbs. "Move," he whispered, trying to get out of bed.
"No, Cap'n, ye've gotta stay down fer a while," Gibbs said, pushing Jack gently onto the mattress. Jack punched him in the nose and staggered out of the cabin. Down the hall, he limped, hunched over. Elizabeth's cabin was at the very end…right there…
He stumbled, his hand clenched the doorknob for support; he collapsed just outside the door. A moment later, Elizabeth poked her head out and screamed, dropping to her knees next to him. "JACK!"
Jack smiled at her. "Y…y-es?"
"What the…why…how…"
"Tell you…a few things," Jack said. "Need to."
"What?"
"First…get compass."
Elizabeth obeyed, placing it in Jack's hand. He opened it. "Look." The needle swung – and pointed straight to her. She gasped, but Jack cut her off. "Second…tell Will…sorry. And…"
"And?" Elizabeth prompted quietly, tears streaming down her face.
"Not…not…make it. Die," Jack murmured. "No…don't cry…"
"No, you mustn't think that way. You'll make it, don't worry. You're Captain Jack Sparrow. You…"
"Not fit…to lick dirt…from Jones's…boots," Jack chuckled. "One more…thing….forgive you." His hand shook violently as it clutched Elizabeth's.
"Hold on," she sobbed. "Hold on. For me."
"Try. Hurt."
Right then, there was a spark of hope. But Jack's breathing grew shallower. Gibbs found them, plugging the flow of blood from his nose, and knelt beside his captain while Elizabeth's body quaked with sobs. A deep cough rumbled like thunder in Jack's chest. Dark bubbled danced at the corners of his mouth. He looked at Elizabeth again, smiled, and closed his eyes.