Disclaimer: (Looks around) Shh! I'm hunting for Jack Sparrow! This means he's not mine…yet.
AN: Yup, Gerry's having his revenge and Jack is pissed off. There will be cursing in this chapter, so please beware! It's nothing too bad, but this is a PG-13 rating, so if you don't like the swearing, just skip over it or erase it from your minds. Thanks, and please review!
Chapter 16: The Chase and Being Chased:
When Captain Hastings had taken my hand, I felt the strongest urge to pull away. Shivers of revulsion went up my spine, but I'd had no choice: go with Hastings, or watch my husband and our friends die. I could not let the blood of so many men stain my hands, so I did what I thought was right; I slipped my hand into Hastings' and stepped aboard his ship.
To my shock and horror, as soon as the last man was aboard the Storm Chaser, the sound of pistols going off filled the air, closely followed by the crack of splintering wood. The scent of burning gunpowder wafted into my nostrils, and I felt as thought I were going to be sick. Instead, I screamed, only to have it drowned out by the continued sound of shots being fired.
As I screamed, an arm wrapped itself around my waist and hauled me into a cabin. The door slammed shut behind me and my captor, and I was quite literally thrown onto a bed. My cries ceased as my body connected with the bed, but I was still frightened out of my wits. I could feel my hands trembling as I lay prone on the bed, tears forming in my eyes. I swallowed, attempting to keep myself from weeping as the blasts of firing pistols began to fade.
Unable to stop them, a stream of tears flowed down my cheeks as I thought of my crewmates. Surely Jack wouldn't have been caught in the battle, but most of the men would have gone down on deck. I couldn't help thinking of kind, silent Mr. Cotton and his brightly-colored bird, both of which had been so sweet to me from the beginning. Mr. Gibbs, for all his dislike of women being onboard, had been like an uncle to me, and the thought of him being dead made me sob out loud.
Suddenly, a gentle hand rested on my shoulder. "It's alright, Rose," whispered a Scottish-accented voice. It was Hastings.
I whirled around, glaring hatefully at him. "You heartless bastard!" I cried, pulling out of his grasp and climbing to the other side of the bed. "You killed them, even when you swore not to!"
I felt a bit more comfortable now that there was something standing between me and my captor, but I didn't let my guard down. At any chosen moment, Hastings could easily leap over the large bed and try to grab me, so I kept my senses sharp, just in case.
Hastings shook his head. "I didn't kill them," he said, crossing his arms over his chest and taking a relaxed stance. "My crew merely shot a few dozen holes into the Pearl's hull. It might be enough to sink it, but not very quickly. If Jack is any sort of decent sailor, he'll head to the nearest spot of land, which happens to be a day away from here." He smirked. "Whether they make it or not, well…"
My blood and my heart all seemed to freeze inside my body. The Black Pearl was sinking, and the nearest landmass was a day away. If it had been any other ship and her crew, I would be fully panicking. However, since this was Jack, the Black Pearl, and a faithful, clever band of crewmates, I was disinclined to let fear and despair take over.
'But I won't let him know that,' I thought while glaring over at Hastings. 'Let him think that the Pearl will be down to the depths, it will only be sweeter for me when the Pearl surprises him to take me back. Jack will have the crew working day and night to get the Pearl seaworthy, so I'll just let Hastings have his illusions of having won me.'
Besides, revenge was a dish best served cold…and I was more than willing to do the wait for it.
Jack grit his teeth as he steered the Pearl in the direction that Gibbs was pointing, following the direction that the compass was giving him. Since the thing Gibbs wanted most (right now, anyway) was a good strip of land to repair the Pearl, he was the one holding the compass. And since Gibbs was the one holding the prized compass, it certainly explained why Gibbs looked as though he were going to wet himself. It also explained why the Captain appeared to be strangling the wheel of the helm while he steered…
As much as Jack wanted to snatch the sailing instrument away from his first mate, he knew that it wouldn't do anyone any good. The thing that Jack Sparrow wanted most right now was his wife, so that was what the compass was going to be pointing to. However, he couldn't rescue Rose on a sinking, waterlogged ship, so they would have to head for land and make repairs. If there was any food growing there, it would also do them good to try and restock the ship as well.
It was killing Jack inside to make this necessary side trip, but the lives of his men were his responsibility. As their Captain, he provided them with a safe place to live when they weren't looting, he made sure that they were well-paid and well-fed, and when it was necessary, he gave them medical attention. Right now, the least he could do was fix the Pearl so that they could all get Rose and go back to their pirating ways of life!
"I'm sure she'll be fine, Cap'n," Gibbs said over his shoulder as he continued looking at the compass. "Rose is a strong lass, and she'll hold her own against Hastings, don't you worry."
Jack growled. "I think I'll worry about my wife as much as I please, if it's all the same, Mr. Gibbs," he stated, his eyes trained on course.
"Aye, sir," Gibbs muttered before going silent.
A stab of guilt shot through Jack's chest, but it was a different sort and of a lesser degree than the one that currently throbbed within him. The guilt that had the larger grasp over his heart was due to the fact that he had been unable to save Rose from Hastings. He was Captain Jack Sparrow, for God's sake! He had sacked Nassau Port without firing a single shot, escaped hundreds of situations without encountering bodily harm to himself or his crew, and had even been of the undead. His adventures filled numerous books, and his name was feared in not only the Caribbean, but also was being spread throughout the New World!
And yet, he hadn't been able to prevent his beloved Rose from being taken from him. When she had been pulled onto the Storm Chaser, he could feel his chest nearly burst from anger. At that point, Jack had wanted so badly to open fire that he was willing to risk the lives of his crew to get his wife back at any cost. A few well-placed cannonballs and Gerry's fleet would have been running for their lives!
But risking the men's lives was out of the question. Jack knew that Rose would never forgive him if he did that, and she had been willing to go with the enemy in order to prevent a needless bloodbath. If anyone died because of her, Rose would have his head, and she would be perfectly within her right to demand it of him. That still didn't make him feel any better, though.
"Somethin' to eat, sir?" asked a voice from Jack's left.
Jack looked over and saw Barton standing there, a plate in one hand and a mug of water in the other. On top of the plate was a slice of freshly cooked meat over a thick slice of bread, a wedge of soft goat cheese, and a green apple cut into halves. The smell of the food made Jack's stomach rumble, and he couldn't help but wonder how long it had been since he had last eaten something.
"Captain, you've been up here for over five hours," Barton said in a kind voice. "Maybe you should eat your meal while Cotton or someone else steers the Pearl for ye? It would do you good, sir."
It was a tempting offer, though Jack was considering the idea of refusing it. However, he would do no one any good by fainting from hunger and thirst, and he couldn't eat and drink while at the helm; accidents tended to happen when a captain did that. So, after nodding to Barton and reluctantly relinquishing his post, Jack accepted the plate and mug while Barton took the helm.
With his loot in hand, Jack headed down the steps and up to the bow of the ship, his eyes resting on a pair of barrels standing side-by-side, the heights of which made a perfect table and chair. Setting his cup down, Jack took a seat and began attacking his food. The meat was from the load of salted beef that they had bought some time ago, but it was of good quality, so it hadn't spoiled yet. After whoever was in the galley had finished washing the protective layer of salt off of it and tossed it into a pot or pan, the beef had actually cooked up quite well.
Jack quickly followed the meat and bread with the cheese wedge, the water in his cup washing it down, leaving him with just the apple halves. He stared at them for a few moments, remembering how five barrels of the green fruit had found their way onto the Pearl. He'd personally stopped eating the bloody things years ago, after that whole misadventure with Barbossa and the Turners. The last time he'd eaten a green apple had been during what he'd thought would be a great triumph; instead, it had turned as bitter as a mouth full of sea water.
'Rose wanted them, though,' he thought with a grin as he picked up a slice and put it to his lips to take a bite. 'She'd never had green apples before, and after trying them, she wanted some for the crew.'
Of course, Jack was never one to deny his wife anything for any reason, so he'd bought the fruit at her request. The men had been thrilled at the prospect of fresh fruit onboard, and so everyone was happy with the purchase. Rose, it turned out, rather liked the sweet-sour flavor of the apples, and Jack had promised to buy a whole new batch just for her when they arrived back in the Caribbean.
Looking back at the plate, Jack realized that he had eaten every bit of food without really tasting it. For some reason, even the food seemed different; without Rose cooking it, food seemed to loose its charm for him. Without Rose aboard the Pearl, the world around him seemed so dim and lifeless. He wanted her back so much, it pained him.
'I'll get you back, luv,' he silently swore to her as his eyes drifted to stare at the horizon. 'I'll fix the Pearl and then I'm coming after the bastard that took you from me.' A broad, nasty grin spread across his face. 'And when I find him, I'll blast him out of the water so hard he won't know what hit him!'
Whistling, Jack took his plate back down to the galley to be washed.
Not long after my capture, I was standing in my new quarters aboard Hastings' ship. After he had told me that the Pearl wasn't in any danger unless her captain put her there, Captain Hastings called for someone to take me to what would be my new cabin. As it turned out, it was far more than just a normal cabin.
When I had first entered it, I had thought that I'd been brought to the wrong place. When the sailor who was my escort confirmed that it was mine, I knew that something was dreadfully wrong. This cabin was decorated in a manner fit for a queen; silk sheets, velvet drapes, fine silver, and the best woods created the ideal air of elegance and wealth. For a moment, I felt as though I had traveled back in time and was in my father's house all over again…and it frightened me.
'A man, particularly a pirate captain, would not go through all the trouble of decorating a cabin this way unless he had something else in mind,' I thought to myself, feeling more than a little alarmed.
I had just realized the seriousness of it all when the sound of a lock being secured in place sent chills of fear up my spine. Whirling around, I realized that I'd been locked in. Crying out, I ran to the door and began turning the knob in every direction. My attempts were futile, as the door had been securely fastened from the outside; there would be no way of escaping through the door. Looking around, I tried to think of another way out of this.
On the far side of the room were a pair of large windows that opened to the outside, but there was no balcony to step onto. When I tested them, I discovered that they only opened to a certain degree, stopping after about three to four inches. I could let fresh air in, but there was no way for me to get out. Since the entire thing was made of thin wood, I could easily use one of the heavy silver candlesticks to smash my way through it and escape.
'But even if I did, where would I go?' I thought to myself, using common sense.
That was very true, as we were presently out in the middle of the ocean, but even I knew that we couldn't stay at sea forever. Sooner or later, the Storm Chaser would have to pull into port to restock her supplies, and when it did, I would make my escape. For now, I would have to wait. Patience was a virtue, after all, and in my stay at my parents' home, I had learned plenty of it!
To pass the time, I decided to investigate my room. Bookshelves lined one wall, the edges of which sported a strange wooden tongue in order to keep the books from falling off as the ship rocked. I approached the shelves and began looking over the titles. Some where Shakespearian works I had already read, but a few were of sea mythologies or tales translated from foreign countries. Still, there was so much to choose from that I decided to flip through a few pages of each book, becoming very interested in what I saw.
I decided on one of the mythologies and took a seat by the windows, losing myself in the tale until I heard the door unlock. Looking up, I saw a tall, bald, broad-shouldered man enter the room with a tray in one hand and a pitcher in the other. He quickly set the tray and pitcher on a side table and gave a respectful nod in my direction, right before slipping back out the door and locking it behind him. Curious, I set my book aside and went to investigate the contents of the tray he'd brought. Lifting the silver cover, I was shocked.
A small, beautifully roasted bird sat on a silver plate, surrounded by roasted potatoes and little pickled onions. There was a small round of white bread, a small porcelain dish of butter, and elegant silverware to use to eat with. There was also a finely carved wooden chalice to hold whatever liquid there was in the pitcher. I looked inside to discover it was water. Now that I was finished inspecting the food, I had a decision to make…
'To eat the food, or not to eat the food?' I thought while chewing my lower lip.
I highly doubted that Hastings wanted to poison me, especially after going through all of the trouble of kidnapping me. Of course, there was the idea that Hastings got a particular thrill out of stealing me away from Jack and now wanted to be rid of me, but why would he give me this room? It just didn't make any sense, and now my mind was whirling with questions about why I was here and how long Hastings would let me live. It all made my head hurt, so I poured myself some water and drank it down, though I left the food alone.
'For all I know, he could have poisoned it,' I thought while glaring at the tray. 'I won't eat anything prepared on this ship unless I cook it myself!'
As though he heard that thought, the door unlocked and Gerard Hastings entered the room, a broad smile on his face. When he saw the untouched food, though, the smile dimmed.
"Are you not hungry?" he asked, coming closer. "Is the food not to your tastes?"
I stepped away from him as he came closer. I did not want to stand anywhere near this man, and the thought of his touching me made me feel ill. For some reason, my keeping a distance between us made him smile.
"Ah, you are being cautious," he said. "Let me assure you that it is not poisoned."
Under my watchful gaze, he reached out and picked up an onion from the tray. He then made a point of showing me the onion before popping it into his mouth. Hastings slowly and thoroughly chewed the onion and swallowed. Once the last bit was down his throat, green eyes turned towards me.
"You see, no poison," he said with a smile. "Now, would you please eat? I would not want you to perish from hunger."
I crossed my arms and turned my back to him. "I'll be happy to eat once I'm back with my husband," I retorted, not bothering to keep the anger from my voice.
Behind me, I could hear him sigh. "Then I'm afraid you will go hungry, for I have no intention of returning you to him." I felt his hands on my hair and pulled away. "You see, once a man steals from me, or even accidentally takes what is mine, they owe me the value of what they took. Jack owes me for my beloved mother's necklace, and in return, I took something that he not only treasures, but something-" he chuckled, "or rather, someone that I desire more than mere money."
I pulled away from him, turning around and knocking his hand aside. "I am not a slave to be taken, traded, or sold!" I snapped. "You won't get away with this, no matter what you think!"
Hastings merely smiled, his green eyes sparkling as amusement shone through in them. "No, my dear flower, you will be no slave," he said, his voice soft as he smiled down at me. "I'm afraid that I have far greater plans in mind for you."
Fear shot through me once more as he turned around and walked out, leaving me standing there, shivering, in the middle of my prison.
Gerard couldn't stop smiling to himself. It turned out that Rose had a rebellious fire in her, and he could see what had attracted Sparrow to her. This beautiful rose had thorns which stung him oh-so-delightfully when he touched her. She would prove very amusing, and he was looking forward to experiencing more of that stubbornness. Oh, yes, Rose was definitely worth the price of his mother's necklace…and so much more…
AN: Yes, Hastings is a jerk. More fun to come next week, so don't forget to review!