Chapter Four: Awareness

"What? Don't you oh-bugger me, Jack Sparrow!"

She leaned over to look at her own torn flesh, expecting pain to race her heart. But instead, an odd tingling sensation had occurred. She saw what he'd "oh-bugger"ed about. Her skin was healed over, but at a terrible cost. It had aged, turning yellow and cured looking. She ran her fingers over the spots. The flesh felt like leather. Jack pointed a finger at one and poked it. It was hard, as though the glass was still beneath the skin.

"Well that's interesting"

Elizabeth finally let her instincts go-she slapped his hand away. Jumping back in mock pain, he gave her a hurt expression. The now-healed wounds faintly glowed. A soft light emanated from them that had the same purple color as the sand. He stroked his beard,

"That's very interesting. You know, I think I recognize-"

He was cut short by a roar. He'd nearly forgotten about their current predicament in his caretaking of Elizabeth. Ever since the first time he'd saved her from drowning, it had become a personal obligation for him to protect her. He stood up, slowly, and peered over the edge of the railings. Not only was the Flying Dutchmen in port, it had brought Jones' favorite pet. Jack smiled darkly at his executioner. Unlike Jack, the Kraken looked the worse for wear. Its flesh appeared to be torn in places- Sparrow was shocked when he found out why. Various Navy crewmen were aboard the Dutchmen. Ignoring the oceanic visage of their fellow sailors, they walked the decks. Every once in a while, one of them would point at the beastie, mockingly, and throw some sharp object at it. Instead of bouncing off of its thick hide, spears, swords and daggers stuck into the flesh. Worse yet, it had been lashed to the starboard side with a tangle of nets.

Jack decided sticking around would be a waste of time, and a dangerous idea. Negotiating with Norrington for the heart was a bust venture. Jones and crew were enslaved to the Lord Cutler Beckett.

The first mate was still nursing his hurt hand, and glaring at the couple. He'd only been trying to help, and now the girl had the glass stuck in her skin like a sow. But you didn't argue with Captain Jack Sparrow. Lewis stood and awaited orders. Jack saw this, and addressed the man,

"I think we ought to head towards the Banshee's Port, don't you mate?"

Understanding the code for Bermuda Triangle, Lewis again crossed himself,

"So it's true? Anything is better than Jones?"

Jack just glared in answer. The mate roused the rest of the crew, those willing began to work the sails for the long journey, and as quietly as possible. Attracting the attention of those on shore would be disastrous. About ten men, however, were sorely against putting their lives in further peril. They elected an escaped slave as their orator-he being taller than the rest.

"We be wantin' to stay here in dis land. No more sailin wid a pirate wut does no pirating. And den goin in to dat Bermuda Triangle. "

He spat and those behind him followed suite to enact a counter curse,

"We no be wantin to have no mutiny, Mister Sparrow. But if you won't be loanin us none ub de boats, we'll be 'aving no uder options."

He fingered a jagged dagger and smiled. Jack wasn't accustomed to forcing men against their will, perhaps part of the reason he lost the Pearl, so he smiled back.

"Well, gentlemen. It appears that you have left me with two excellent options. Seeing as we are in such great favor with one another"

He paused, mulling over the details of reality,

"I shall indeed loan you one of the long boats for your travels and wish you luck. However, I make one request."

The men had been goo-fawing, but upon hearing this, they hushed and waited.

"You will not, under any circumstances, run to His Majesty's Navy and inform them of anything that has occurred. Are we clear?"

To emphasize his seriousness, he pulled back his jacket to reveal a pistol.

"But wud if dey be askin us how Mister Norrington be off ub dis boat?"

"Tell them Miss Swan stranded him, using her feminine wiles,"

Elizabeth hiccupped a startled gasp of anger, but Jack held up a finger,

"And the rest of the crew took off with her as their she-pirate captain. You can even embellish a bit and say…you put up a fight, but they made you walk the plank. Seeing as she and I will be gone with the rest of the crew, there will be no conflict of interests. And that is my final order as your captain. You may leave immediately."

Jack made his real meaning of 'may', being 'had better', clear with a gunshot.

"Savvy?"

As the others began to gather their meager supplies and prepare a boat, one lingered and stared at Jack,

"Whud you be a meanin by 'walk de plank?'"

Jack shook his head and was going to explain the finer points of execution within a pirate democracy, but the man was distracted by something shiny.

The abandoners took less than five minutes to gather their belongings, and were gone.

Meanwhile, the rest of the crew had prepared the ship for the voyage. Shouts, necessary for the coordination of leaving port, were heard across the decks,

"Pull line!"

"Lift anchor!"

"Sails down, billow 'er east!"

Jack assumed the helm, and they were off. Elizabeth felt the ship lurch as it picked up speed. She turned to watch Port Royale. She stayed there until the horizon swallowed up the palm trees so familiar to her. She than looked down to hide her tears. She had not even been able to see her father. An un-stifled sob escaped her as a dark thought swept through her. She would probably never see him again.