"I'm dying," groaned Jack. "Gimme more rum, there's a good girl."
"You had almost the entire bottle. You're not getting more tonight. Get back to sleep."
"You want me to die. You hate me. They all hate me."
"I don't hate you." Rose tiredly rubbed her forehead.
"Then give me rum." He coughed weakly.
"Just shush!"
It was the third sleepless night and Jack was really beginning to get on her nerves. Soon after his near-drowning he had caught pneumonia, and had been feverish ever since. The two of them were now alone below deck; nobody else wanted to hear his whining so the others slept outside. He simply was a horrible patient and Rose hated being his designated nurse.
She had just drifted back to sleep when he started again.
"Roose... Roose," he moaned.
"What now?!"
"Need to pee... Get me the bucket."
"You were right," she growled. "I do hate you."
.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.
Thankfully Jack steadily got better, and after another couple of days of driving Rose to the verge of madness, he was finally on his feet again, looking no worse for wear except for his still tender ribs.
"Give me the rum." Jack was laying back on the deck, resting his head on his hands. They had returned to Tortuga yesterday, and today Elizabeth and Gibbs had gone to buy the blacksmith items while Rose and Jack guarded the boat.
"Fetch it yourself. I'm tired of being your beck and call." She was leaning against the railing beside his outstretched body, her eyes closed against the evening sun.
"I'm still very weak, you know," he complained.
"Then do without the rum. You drink too much anyway."
"I know."
The concession surprised Rose; she had expected him to object and keep nagging her to bring the bottle. Turning her head to look at him, she found his eyes were on her.
"Thank you for saving my life." He reached out and pressed her hand, looking absolutely serious for the first time since she had met him.
"Well, that came out of nowhere." She stared at him in disbelief. Then, collecting herself, she added: "Don't mention it. You shot that pirate for me before, and saved those foreign sailors – it's what good people do."
"I'm not good." He withdrew his hand. "But you are right. Guess this makes us square." His usual sardonic smile had returned.
Rose sighed, closing her eyes again. She wished Jack would show more of his real self, if that was what she had just glimpsed. She was heartily tired of his drunk-and-ridiculous act.
.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.
The clang of metal against metal rang over the barren beach, where a rather strange scene unfolded. A square brick oven had been built on raised stones in the shallow water, and next to it, Gibbs worked the bellows to make the fire inside burn hot enough while Captain Turner busily hammered out a piece of flat silver on an anvil.
Turner had removed his shirt in the heat, or maybe it was to impress his wife; despite his recent change of occupation he had a blacksmith's arm muscles and Rose found herself enjoying the view as well.
"Come," came Jack's voice from behind her.
"Why?" Rose did not turn her gaze away.
"I need your help to carry something important."
Sighing theatrically Rose stood and followed the pirate. "Make it quick then – I want to see him finish the sword. It's interesting to watch."
"I bet it is." Jack gave her a knowing look, mingled with... annoyance? Was he jealous? Somehow Rose found that highly amusing.
"If you strip, I can watch you too," she offered.
He gave her another look that she could not quite interpret, but said nothing.
They walked towards the center of the small island where a cluster of burned palms showed evidence of an old fire. Near the black trunks, Jack counted the steps to a certain point and began to scoop away sand until he uncovered a trapdoor.
Rose helped him open it and peered down. When she saw what it was, she groaned. "Rum! You brought me here to carry rum. Bastard."
He gave her a toothy grin. "It's for the summoning, love. It is important."
"So, I guess we soon got all we need," said Rose as she carried the last crate of bottles up the ladder and placed it in Jack's waiting hands. "Feeling ready to summon her? I'm thinking it must be rather scary." Even more so for herself, who would be sent to the afterlife in the process.
"No, I'm not ready." Jack sat down next to the crates, catching his breath after their labor.
"No?"
"I got something to do first." He glanced at her. "And I need you to come with me."
"Explain." She sat beside him, burying her fingers in the warm sand.
"It's something I always do this time of year. Finding the sword has taken too long so now I must do this other thing first, it can't wait." He picked up a rum bottle and looked at his distorted reflection in its dark glass.
"Well, like Liz says, you don't have to come to the summoning. It will probably be sad and boring anyway, what with me dying and all that." But when she said it, she realized she wanted him to come. Despite the fact that he would probably be there for the wrong reasons, with some hidden agenda, she did not want to part with him yet.
"Do you want to die?" He was still peering into the bottle, adjusting his mustache and rubbing at some imagined smudge on his cheek.
She looked at him. Was he being serious again? He had appeared less like his usual eccentric persona ever since he recovered from the fever.
"Well, eventually, I do," she said. "But someone once told me I would die an old lady in my bed, so I had kind of hoped I would stay around a bit longer." With a pang of grief and not a little bad conscience Rose realized just how long it had been since she had thought about her Jack.
Jack Sparrow opened the rum bottle and swallowed a few mouthfuls before passing it to her. As she declined, he took another swig. He looked gloomy. Was it because of her impending death? His character was so impossible to read. One moment he would be a demanding, selfish, full-of-himself pirate, but at other times he appeared to be a decent man who cared about his friends. Who actually had friends.
"Why do you want me to come with you on this errand?" she asked.
"So I can get you into my bed." His lips quirked up impishly.
"Be serious!" She gave his shoulder a shove.
"Serious is boring." He shrugged, and took another long pull of rum. "And I do want you in my bed. Admit the thought has crossed your mind too."
"I admit to no such thing." She turned her face away in case it would betray her. Damn the man!
He chuckled. "Still in denial, huh?" Then he was silent for a while. When he spoke again he sounded earnest. "I want you to come with me, because you must be present when we do the summoning – and I don't want them to do it without me, because I need to speak with Calypso. Savvy?"
"Speak about what?"
He sighed. "It's about my ship, if you must know."
"The Black Pearl?"
"Aye. I want her back."
"And you think Calypso would be so grateful for the Heart, that she would help you?"
"She might."
Rose peered closely at him. She still had a feeling he did not say everything, but maybe she was over-analyzing. For Jack to help them on the prospect of recovering his boat seemed likely, and the plan might have worked too, if the necklace had not already been designated for other purposes.
She wiggled her toes in her too large boot and felt the Heart of the Ocean, still safe in its hiding place, while pondering whether to tell him this.
Then she decided it was only fair – after all, he had been honest with her for once, and she ought to return the courtesy.
"Elizabeth and I are going to use the Heart to negotiate for her husband's life. To free him of the curse."
"You what?" He stared at her incredulously. "That's ridiculous. Wasting the power of the necklace on that! The Dutchman must have a captain – it won't work."
"It's their only chance."
Jack jumped to his feet and began to pace to and fro angrily. "Calypso hates being ordered about. You will only annoy her. Stupid plan."
She tried to calm him. "You want your ship, I get that. But isn't their happiness important too?"
Jack did not reply. Still scowling, he collected the rum crates and stomped back to the others.
Sighing, Rose picked up the rest of the rum and followed him. He was clearly overreacting. To reclaim a stolen boat must be so much easier than lifting a curse, and it could probably be done in so many other ways. It was he that wanted to waste the necklace's power, not she.
Back at the beach, Captain Turner had nearly finished making the silver sword and was sharpening it with a whetstone in quick, practiced motions.
It was beautiful. Long as his arm and unbelievably smooth, gleaming dazzlingly from the handle to its narrow tip.
He held it out to Elizabeth. "There, it's the best I can do under the circumstances."
"It's perfect!" She wrapped her arms around him and stroked his still bare back with her free hand.
"I must go now." Reluctantly he released her.
"Before you go... I have been meaning to tell you something." She beckoned for everyone else to move farther away, and then pulled down her husband's head to whisper in his ear.
"You sure?" His eyes had gone wide and a boyish smile played on his lips.
"Positive." Her face was almost glowing with happiness.
Rose had a strong suspicion as to the nature of the news. Seeing the couple before her now, sharing another long, passionate kiss, her determination to help them increased tenfold.
Elizabeth and she would free Will Turner, and Jack and his stupid Pearl could go screw themselves.
A/N:
What was the news, do you think? :D
Thanks again for your supportive comments and votes!
Image Credits:
Screenshot from hte Pirates of the Caribbean movies.