Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.
Wow! Numbers are looking really awesome, so thank you, thank you, thank you! I really hope you enjoy this chapter. I'm not sure how I feel about it. I had hoped it would be the best out of the entire story but I don't think it is. It's missing the emotion I had been hoping to capture. But I hope that maybe you still find it enjoyable : )
Elizabeth walked wearily up the stairs towards Jack's cabin. She broke into the soft afternoon sunshine and looked up to see all the crew members staring at her. The watched her silently as she walked to Jack's quarters, opened the door and went in. Mr. Gibbs had placed Jack on his bed.
"If ye aren't going to be needing me, then I'll just be on me way." Mr. Gibbs said, passing Elizabeth, heading towards the door. Elizabeth just nodded and set Jack's hat on a chest of drawers. Elizabeth heard the door close behind Mr. Gibbs and she went and sat on the edge of the bed and stared at Jack. Jack opened his eyes halfway and gave out a small groan.
"What's wrong, Jack? Are you going to be sick?" Elizabeth looked around for something that Jack could throw up into and found nothing but her bucket of water that was still sitting on the floor, the rag floating in it. Although it wasn't ideal, Elizabeth could tell by Jack's face that he would need it sooner than later so she retrieved the bucket and placed in on the floor by Jack's head. Not a moment later, Jack leaned over and relieved himself. Water mixed with vomit splattered onto the floor, Elizabeth's shoes and Jack's face and Elizabeth grimaced. Jack coughed and then pushed himself back into a vertical position. Elizabeth took the bucket outside to the deck and dumped it over the side, not caring about the rag that had been in there. She brought the bucket back and left it at Jack's head before finding a washbasin and rag. Elizabeth went down to the kitchen to boil a pot of water. While she waited for it, she went to see Will.
"How's Jack?" Will greeted her, after noticing how tired Elizabeth looked all of a sudden.
"He's not doing well." she said with a sigh. "I don't know what to do to help him, Will. I feel so helpless."
"Elizabeth, look at me." Will said gently. Elizabeth raised her head and met Will's eyes.
"You'll think of something that will help Jack. I'm sure of it. You're a smart woman."
"Thanks." Elizabeth whispered, gaining a little bit of confidence from Will's pep talk. Will smiled at her and watched her leave. Elizabeth retrieved the scalding water and carried it upstairs into Jack's cabin. Her nose told her immediately that Jack had had another accident. Elizabeth poured the water into the washbasin and left it to cool while she emptied Jack's bucket a second time. After carefully replacing it, Elizabeth retrieved the washbasin and brought it to Jack's bed. She set it on the night table and sat down on the edge of the bed, taking the warm rag in her hand. She gently washed the vomit off of Jack's face. At her touch, Jack stirred.
"How are you feeling, Jack?" Elizabeth asked. Jack let out another groan before slipping back into a restless place between asleep and awake. Elizabeth continued to sponge down Jack until his face was as clean as she'd ever seen it. Elizabeth looked around Jack's quarters, wondering what she could do to help the Captain feel better. Her eyes played over many items until she saw the bottle of rum sitting on the table. Rum! Of course! Why didn't she think of it sooner? she wondered as she retrieved the bottle. Elizabeth found an unused wine glass in a cupboard-Jack usually skipped a glass and took his rum from the bottle-and poured a small amount of rum into the bottom. She brought the glass back to Jack's bed.
"Jack." Elizabeth said, gently shaking his shoulder.
"Hmm?" Jack mumbled.
"Jack, I have something for you. It'll make you feel better."
Jack wearily prodded his eyes open.
"Love, there is nothing in the entire Caribbean that could make this go away."
"Not even rum?" Elizabeth offered Jack the glass. Jack looked at the murky brown liquid that he usually loved so much and he could feel his stomach start to rise. He quickly turned his head.
"Not even rum, Lizzie, take it away."
Elizabeth had seen Jack turn a sickly green shade at the sight of the rum. Normally she would just dump the rum into the sea but today she gulped back the drink herself, feeling a little calmer after doing so. Jack opened one of his eyes to see if the rum was gone.
"It's gone, Jack." Elizabeth informed him. Jack unearthed his face from the pillow.
"I feel like I belong in Davy Jones's locker." he said with a heavy sigh.
"I'm sorry, Jack." Elizabeth replied.
"What have you got to be sorry for, Deary? You didn't do this…although I don't think you're cooking helped, to be perfectly honest."
Elizabeth ignored the latter part of Jack's response.
"I just don't know what else to do to make you feel better."
"But you're a pirate, darling. And pirates aren't meant to make people feel good. If we were there would be no reason to get up in the morning."
"It's not the same, Jack." Elizabeth said.
"Well the only one who's disappointed in you is you. I haven't had better care in all my years…although I have had better grub."
Jack just couldn't seem to let that go but Elizabeth smiled at Jack. Jack smiled back before his face twisted and he leaned over the side of his bed once again. Elizabeth sighed. It was nice knowing that Jack didn't hold her accountable but she hoped with all her heart that Jack Sparrow would be better by morning.
Out of all the chapters, I would love to know what you felt about this one the most. I had tried to capture a certain mood here but I'm not sure what came across. Please let me know what you think of it!