Hello everyone!

Did you have a good Christmas (or holiday if you don't celebrate it)? Think of this as a late prezzie for you all! I've been thinking more about the spin-off thing from Jack's POV. Do you think I should do it? If so do you;

a) think it should be a song-fic summing the whole thing up

b) think it should be the whole thing from his PoV

c) want to choose which bits I do and don't do from his PoV from each story.

d) all of the above and then some cheese- Please note if you pick this then I will cry... and you don't want that do you? DO YOU??

Love you lots more than jelly tots!

LV
XX

I smashed against the ground. I winced as pain shot up and down every limb in my body. Everything felt either grazed or bruised and I knew I was bleeding somewhere. I would have screamed, maybe that's what I started doing, but my lungs were full of dust and I choked it out. It was in my eyes, blinding me as I tried to push myself up from the still shaking ground. I propped myself up onto my hands and looked around for Jack. There was a shape lying in the dust a few inches from me. I stuck out my hands and my fingertips brushed against the small, triangular object.

Jack's hat.

I picked it up and kept crawling forwards, calling out for Jack and being knocked to the ground as I did so. I don't think he heard me, even I couldn't hear me. The ground was rumbling loudly and booms from all around completely deafened me, my ears were ringing. My voice had to scratch its way out past the lumps of dust clotting in my throat and anything that got out was snatched away by roars that were so loud I couldn't hear them. I couldn't hear anything. I found Jack lying in the dust. He didn't move as I put my arms around him and tried to shield his body with my own. I buried my face into his back. I couldn't tell if he was moving or not, so many other things were. The world continued to judder and shake. My ears were buzzing over the sound of things crashing down around us. Then, as suddenly as it started, it was all over.

I stayed frozen where I was for a moment or two, making sure that it had stopped and I was still alive. For all I knew I could be dead. I tentatively raised my head. Dust was settling on everything and in the aftermath of the earthquake there was nothing but a dreadful silence. Port Royale had been left reeling by the tremors which had been so loud that it made every sound after it seem impossibly quiet. I propped myself up next to Jack.

"It's safe now," I told him. He didn't move his face was turned away from me. I knelt up beside him. "Jack." It felt like I was shouting, but I couldn't tell how loudly. Sounds were only just beginning to seep back into my ears and they all sounded distant and muffled. My throat was dry and when I felt my voice break and blamed that on the dust too. I coughed. "Jack!"

He didn't move.

"Jack!"

Nothing, he didn't even stir.

"Jack!"

I shook him, gently at first, but with a growing urgency when my actions provoked no response.

"Jack!" I called desperately, my lips by his ear.

Nothing.

I leant over and pushed my hands under his shoulders. I rolled him towards me. His body rolled limply towards me and his head flopped round in my arms. His eyes were closed. I called for him again and this time when I choked on a lump in my throat I knew it had nothing to do with dust.

I had seen the blood.

It hurt so much I felt as if I were the one who was bleeding. It had carved a crimson river down his right cheek, snaking and twisting through the dirt caking his face. I brushed the tips of my fingers against it. It was warm and wet and heartbreakingly real. I raised my bloodstained hands to in front of my face, confirming its existence. Had he been shot? Was the blood coming from a wound from George's gun? Had he fulfilled his promise and succeeded in killing Jack? The thought was too terrible to bear, but it was enough to ignite a fire in the pit of my stomach. An anger that was burning me up from the inside out. If he had made good on one promise there was no way on this Earth he would get another one right. He would not bring me back to where he had been keeping me a prisoner. I would return to that house, but I would go of my own free will and the streets of Port Royale would run red with George's blood.

My trembling hands traced the river of Jack's blood right up to its roots. I found a deep gash where a part of his bandanna had slipped down. Not a bullet wound then, but probably enough to kill him. How would I know? I tore a rag from my dress and ran to the cracked well. I soaked the rag and ran back to Jack. I cleaned the wound. I wasn't that deep, but it was bleeding too much and I couldn't seem to stop it even though I was bandaging it up as best I could. I didn't have a clue what I was doing. Jack's face was sticky with my tears and they were blurring my vision so much I couldn't see him anymore. I looked around. Wobbly shapes moved past me. I screamed at them for help until my voice was horse, but not one of them responded. I tried to wipe my eyes on the back of my sleeve, but they just kept filling up again. I lowered my lips to his and close my eyes. I kissed his lips gently, but they remained still. I don't know what I thought would happen. Maybe I thought I could kiss the life back into him. When there was no response from him. I collapsed down onto his chest as the hopelessness of it all came crashing down on me like a wave against the sand.

I was so lost, so out of control.

What could I do?

Why was I so weak? Why couldn't I help him?

I wasn't a doctor, I knew nothing about medicine. Nobody had ever taught me even though it was clearly and important subject. What use was sewing and embroidery when I couldn't even save the life or someone I loved? Why hadn't I bothered to find out about it for myself? Why was I so stupid? Uncontrollable sobs were streaming out of my mouth, but there was nothing I could do and nobody came to help me. Then I head something through my pain. Something that quenched the fire burning up my soul and it made my heart leap towards the sky. The most beautiful sound I had ever heard.

His heartbeat.

It calmed me. The weight lifted from my chest and I could breathe again. The world around me became clearer and more colourful. His heart was beating. He was alive! Tears were still rolling down my cheeks as I sat up again. I called for him again, gently shaking him as I propped his head up in my arms. This time there was a flicker of movement. His eyelids twitched and then rested back where they were. I choked out his name and his brow furrowed. I glanced around again for help, but a warm hand turned my face back to look at his. His eyes were open. My heart stopped or maybe it was beating so fast now it just felt as if it had stopped. He touched my cheek. "Am I dead?"

I shook my head. "No."

"Thought not, there's no way we'd have ended up in the same place." I opened my mouth to argue, but his fingers met one of my tears. "What's all this crying about then, love?" he said in a horse, but unmistakable voice. I looked down into his eyes and felt the relief pull at the corners of my mouth. I kissed him more fiercely than I think I've ever done in my life. His lips wee dirty and dry, but I didn't even think about that. When I stopped kissing him and pulled him into a tight hug unable to stop myself from shaking I heard him laugh. "I think I may try being unconscious more often if that's the welcome I get."

I pulled back from him and held him at arms length. "Don't you dare!" I said, but couldn't stop myself from smiling at him. He grinned back. "I though you were dead."

He raised his eyebrows, "It'll take more than a knock to the head to finish me off, darlin'"

"Maybe a slimy, green sea monster with tentacles that'll suction you're face clean off?" I suggested. He laughed at me.

"Maybe, but I wouldn't count on it." He tried to sit up, but squeezed his eyes shut and thudded back down onto his back. "Urg! I feel dizzy and not in the good way."

"There's a good way?" I asked.

"It's good when you're drunk," he murmured. I rolled my eyes and helped him prop himself up slowly and get to his feet. I held him still when he swayed on the spot until his world had stopped spinning. He opened his eyes and bent to kiss me before letting me go and taking my hand. "Shall we?"

I nodded, but then I looked around. The streets had been reduced to rubble, and it was fro the rubble that people were beginning to crawl. Most of them were covered in blood and calling out. I saw the look in their faces reflect the feeling in my heart from moments before. They were lost. This hadn't happened before at least not in living memory and everyone was scared, searching for their loved ones. The sky had turned orange with the glow of so many buildings on fire. I could hear people screaming. I looked to Jack, "We… we should help."

His eyes, for once, matched the seriousness of the situation. He paused and looked around at the destruction cause by only a few seconds work. That seemed to always be the way, the things that happened quickly and suddenly were the things that left us in the most shock. They always caused the most pain. He looked back to me, "We should go. If we stay and help someone who knows you will see you and then we'll have to fight again. If you go know George can tell everyone you died in the earthquake."

My head felt heavy as I tried to nod it. It was all I could do. What he said had made complete sense of course, but it didn't feel right. He tugged me a way and I turned my back on Port Royale. It smelt like burning all around me and I started to cry again. It was a smell I had grown to both fear and hate. I hated it because it took away lives and I feared it because it could easily do the same again. My tears were as silent as they had been the last time I had seen fire and so Jack didn't notice until we were in the boat. He stopped rowing.

"Izzy," he said his voice a gentle as the hand that turned my chin up so that my eyes met with his. "It's for the best."

"I know," I said in a small voice. I took a deep breath and he pulled me towards him so I could rest my head on his shoulder. From where I was I could see Port Royale burning. It was only then, as I watched rows of what used to be houses be consumed by flames. They lapped at the jet black skeletal frames of the houses and then a thought struck me, "George could be dead."

I didn't realize that I had spoken aloud until I felt Jack sigh. I looked up at him. The flames were reflected in his eyes, but I still felt that it was the only place in the world where I could escape them. His jaw was tight and I could tell that he was fighting to keep his voice level. "Why do you still care about him?"

I felt his whole body stiffen as he awaited my answer, his eyes hardened. I didn't know what he was waiting for, but he seemed to be dreading it. My connection with George was getting to him and I could understand why. Tears were flowing faster and thicker than ever before, but it had little to do with what I had just said. It was how I felt about what I'd said. Nothing. No matter how hard I tried to search my mind, my heart and my soul for how I felt it all came back with nothing. Even though the place I had lived for years was crumbling before my eyes and every memory I hade made was going up with smoke I could feel a thing. There was nothing connecting me to Port Royale anymore and so losing it did not come as any kind of blow. Anyone and anything that had ever mattered to me was not longer there and it was with them that the best memories lay. The place itself was bland and had served as a halfway point, a place between my childhood in England and my new future. I had been waiting there, but at the time I had not known what I was waiting for. I had never loved the streets of Port Royale the way I had loved the deck of the Pearl. I had never taken the time to memorise anything about the and when I closed my eyes I couldn't picture it in intimate detail the way I could the Pearl. There was nothing tying me to Port Royale, no connections anymore.

"I-I-I don't," I said. He looked at me. "I don't know how I feel about it. I don't think I feel anything anymore." He nodded and pulled me closer. I could watch the flames without pain. It bothered me that I couldn't muster any emotions for my home of ten years and I search again going as deep into both my conscious and my subconscious as I could. Again… nothing. Then I knew what was happening.

My bridges were, quite literally, burning.