James Norrington. His wonderful coat was thoroughly saturated and the brim of his hat leaked heavily on the soft ground. His wonderful boots splashed over the mud. They splashed with fear and they splashed with an intensity that never subsided. With a fury his strong arms broke the hold of the prison door and what he saw inside was not unexpected. Somehow he'd known, somehow he'd felt the Sparrow's presence could be discovered here.
The Sparrow's forehead was placed firmly against the bars, as if doing so could bring him that much closer to his friend. His hands clenched so tightly around them that even his knuckles fell white. And yet his eyes were so contrasted. They held no strength and were far lacking in faith. He was so broken.
James. He unleashed his revolver from his waistcoat and with the sound of a loading bullet Jack came to his feet. His arms hung limply at his sides as to announce surrender. James' heals clicked with an even pace towards the man. He needn't quicken it- the man was certainly not headed for retreat. Beads of water continued to tumble down his forehead and across the etches of his strong face. He breathed heavily. His eyes inquired the Sparrow's. And his hand, it shook as it held that revolver.
Jack had never seen such sincerity in a man's intent to kill. He never saw such valid reason for one's reason to do so. And yet he plainly stood there, for he knew he held no grounds to resist. He was fully responsible, and even doing so would satisfy he, himself, as well. His soul was dead besides.
Norrington struggled to release the words held captive in his heart. His lips stumbled upon each individual word until they finally revealed themselves to the obsession before him.
"Why you?"
Jack stood still. And James' voice heightened and heightened. It boomed over the still walls this time and echoed across the space.
"WHY FOR SO LONG HAVE I FAILED SO MUCH?" His grip grew tighter and the gun rested finally upon the Sparrow's temple.
"IF ALL I WISHED FOR AT THIS VERY MOMENT WERE TO--
"IF MY WILL TO PURSUE YOU COULD ESCAPE--
"IF AT THIS VERY MOMENT I FINALLY HELD THE COURAGE--"
He stopped. His hands clung as tightly as his clothes to his skin to his sides and the revolver fell to the floor. And his eyes, so full of contained tears, rose to observe those of the man who stood before him. And when he looked inside, all he could find was helplessness.
Instead, he took his fist pummeled it against the Sparrow's cheek. He fell hard upon the stone.
His voice became withered when he spoke again. It was soft and contained and quite sincere.
"Some people, in searching for answers, in seeking explanation, in looking for all such things in their competition, only seek the bad. They look for no other reason than to be superior to them. Well, I tell you, Mister Sparrow, I shall find the good. That is my ultimate duty and that… that I certainly hope you can assist me with."
He offered his hand to the man below him. He did not take it and rather lifted his own self. He wiped a trail of blood from his mouth before he finally opened his mouth. Now his voice, his voice was strong. Oh, but not, not so powerful.
"We can look, Admiral. We can look for years and decades but finding I cannot guarantee."
They traveled in silence to the mansion.