Captain Jack Sparow and I: A Pirates of the Caribbean Fanfiction

Chapter 13: Up Is Down

Chapter 13: Up is Down

Light seeps into my eyes. I feel the cold hard wood beneath me and it rocks to the rhythm of the water. I passed out again. I should really stop doing that.

Memories of the moments before I passed out flash through my mind. Being shoved into the wall by the commodore; Captain Turner beating him up; Jack's eyes.

The events from that night would change everything. If the deal is broken, the crew gets hanged. If the marriage is still on, I have to marry that man and deal with that sort of abuse for the rest of my life. I wouldn't be able to live with the fact that the crew dies on my hands, and if it means living with the Commodore for the rest of my life, then so be it.

I pick myself up from the floor and take in my surroundings. It's a part of the ship I haven't seen before. Noticing the heavy metal chains and prison-like design, I become alert. I'm locked up in the brig.

I call out Jack's name but hardly any sound comes out. My voice sounds dry and raspy, and my throat itches with every syllable. I need clean water. Somehow, someone hears my voice and their dark figure emerges from the shadows. It's Jack, separated from me by the thick metal bars that make up each prison cell. He stretches his arm out and through the opening and pushes a pale in my direction.

"It's clean," he speaks.

I look into the bucket filled with water clear enough to see the moss and mussels sitting at the bottom of the pale. I cup my hands into the water and drink. The water tastes better than anything I could ever imagine as it cools my dry and itching throat. I damp my lips with my shirt sleeve once I'm done.

"How's your head?" Jack asks. I look up at him gripping the metal bars that separate us.

"It's okay," I say feeling the bandage roughly wrapped around my forehead. "Although I think my mind is messed up. I'm probably hallucinating you sitting there finally speaking to me."

"Love, absence of my company only makes the heart grow fonder," he says with a grin.

"Yeah, I doubt it," I smile at him back. I miss talking to him like this. I sit down on a space near him with our knees almost touching, if it weren't for the metal bars. "So how long have I been out?" I say.

"Quite a while, actually. I don't actually know the specific length of time, but I do know that you've missed one event that was quite a sight," Jack replies. I nudge for him to continue and he does. "The crew of soldiers rushed along the deck like bilge rats to the point that the ship flipped over. It was quite a funny thing to watch. William and I never told them that the ship could tip itself considering the capabilities of the Flying Dutchman," he says, making hand gestures matching the event.

"William?" I ask, picturing the sight in my mind. "Who's he?"

"Oh right, Captain Turner," he says, making quotation marks with his fingers. "You should really stop calling him that. It boosts his self-esteem way too much."

I let out a laugh. "Right, even if William qualifies as a Captain, I should not call him captain. You, however, do not qualify as a captain yet you insist on everyone address you as one."

"That is not true," he says, adjusting his sitting position. "I do qualify as a captain. You've seen my ship, haven't you? The Black Pearl." He reaches into his coat and takes out a bottle of rum, half empty.

"I guess so. But it's gone now. A captain without a ship," I say, snatching the bottle away form his grasp before he could take a sip. I let him watch as I empty most of its contents flowing down my throat. "Don't worry, I left some for you," I say once I'm done. I hand him back the bottle.

"No need," he says without the disgruntled face I'm hoping for. He pulls out another bottle of rum out of his coat and empties the liquor into his mouth. I smile. What else was I expecting?

"Continue your story," I say to Jack.

"This and that happened. The boat flipped, we spent a minute underwater and then entered the land of the undead, also known as where we belong. During this whole chain of events your comatose self was probably being thrown around your prison cell, unable to witness the spectacular happenings," Jack says in what seems like one breath, making hand gestures.

He drops the empty bottle of rum onto the floor and it rolls along its side until it hits the end of the cell, making a clink sound. It rolls back in his direction, following the movement the ship rocks. After a moment of silence, I bring up a question that's been at the back if my mind since I woke up.

"What else happened?" I ask Jack. He pulls his gaze away from the empty bottle on the ground and looks up at me. "I mean, after I, you know, passed out," I continue.

"Will and I were brought to the brig. I assume they bandaged you and threw you in here too," he replies. "What happened in the room anyway? Will and I heard you scream and busted in to save you."

"Thank you for saving me," I start. I don't know what else to say. I don't want to tell Jack about what the Commodore tried to do to me. It'll just make things uncomfortable. Jack raises his eyebrows at me, hoping for a recount about what had happened.

"I'd rather not say," I tell him, shaking my head.

"Why not? I'd tell you a true story of my own if you do. Think of it like a deal or business transaction or whatever," he says.

"Sure," I say, "as long as it's not too ridiculous to believe. It better be good."

Jack shuffles his butt backwards across the floor and positions himself ready to tell a story. He pushes back his long sleeves to his elbows, revealing his forearms. On them bare a tattoo of a sparrow in front of the sun, and another displays a dark letter P. These markings surely have their own tale behind them, but those stories can wait for another time. He turns his whole front to face me and I do the same. "Years ago," Jack starts, "I was strolling through the streets of Tortuga when I came across a man who brought up an interesting offer..."

Jack continues his story long hours into the night. His arms reenact every scene he tells me, and I can feel myself inching closer with every sentence. He tells me tales of how he was kidnapped and forced to work for the ruthless pirate Blackbeard, his encounter with zombies and mermaids along his journey to the 'Fountain of Youth'. His stories are full of adventure and humour. I'm sure many details have been left out and ninety percent of this is untrue, but I don't care. Listening to Jack talk for hours on end about daring sword fights and ruthless pirates are what fascinate me. He makes me feel like I want to be there with him, living all that adventure too.

I think that's why I'm so drawn into the world of piracy. I'm not the kind of person who would be satisfied with spending my days sitting like a lady in my bedroom, sewing cloths and fabric while gazing out the window, waiting for my husband to return from whatever exhilarating adventures he must be having. I don't want to be sitting at long tables, picking which fork to use for food served to me on silver platters while being told how to live my life, who to marry, and how to act. That's not the kind of life I want to live.

But... marrying the commodore would force me to return to that life, right?