Disclaimer: Not mine so don't sue me
PrologueHe came to me one night and insisted on staying. Mostly he sat quietly in my room, watching me writing but sometimes, when I was already at the edge of dreams, he started talking, whispering things in my ear. I shooed him away.
He wouldn't leave though. He's quite persistent, that ghost of a pirate.
Tell them my story.
Oh bugger, another story? I'm already too consumed with the one I'm writing now- you know that; you're watching me writing until deep in the night. I never get enough sleep, I'm insufferable in the mornings and now you come along and tell me… No, go away. I won't listen to you.
He shrugs and sits down in the middle of my room, meditating. Do you know how annoying it is to have a meditating ghost of a pirate sitting in the middle of your room?
He haunts me. In every waking hour I hear his voice, tempting and luring. In my dreams I see his face. A face that resembles that of a certain blacksmith… the same brown eyes, only his have more depth. His face is older, there are lines around his eyes that tell the story of an intense life, with all its ups and downs, all the rough edges. It's not what you'd call a pretty face but he's definitely very attractive…
… too much red wine may be another excuse why I'm doing this, but alright, let's hear the story of said pirate.
-
Falling.
The turquoise water of the Caribbean is closing over my head and I'm sinking, rapidly. The weight of a cannon lashed to me boots is dragging me down, down to the oblivion at the bottom of the sea.
I'm struggling, I'm screaming. I'm swallowing water. I don't taste the salt, nor does the lack of air kill me. My lungs are not being crushed. I'm cursed. There are certain reasons why a curse can be an advantage.
I can still hear Barbossa's laugh when I told him about the curse; he didn't believe me. He will soon stop laughing though. I didn't lie. The curse is real and he deserves being cursed forever.
Still sinking, the images of my beloved ones are passing in a swirl in front of my mind's eye. Claire, my wife I had to leave behind in England. Will, my son… I will never see him growing up. And Jack, always Jack. My captain, my friend, my little brother in heart. Now I can't hurry to your rescue like I had sworn to myself. Now I can't make it all undone… possibilities are strictly limited when your hands are tied and a cannon is attached to your boots.
I'm still sinking. The waters are deep and dark, and the silence is maddening. I would cry if I could. I want my tears to mingle with the salty waters but I can't shed no tears, and besides, the sea wouldn't care anyway. The sea takes and gives nothing back.
I can't die but I also can't escape this wet grave. I can't save Jack. Even if I'd find a way out of here it would be much too late for him; he'd long be dead before I had the chance to reach him, starved on that godforsaken spit of sand Barbossa had marooned him.
Helpless. I'm feeling so GOD DAMNED helpless. Here I am now, and I have an eternity to grieve, an eternity for self-reproaches. I hope the curse will dull my senses with the time, will make me numb, unfeeling- but no, I deserve to remember and never forget, I deserve to be tortured with the hurt look in Jack's eyes. Dark eyes that had lost their sparkle due to deceit and betrayal. Come on and haunt me till the end of time.
If only… but there's no sense clinging to the comforting sound of if only when you're at the bottom of the ocean. I had NOT been able to protect him, I had NOT been able to avoid the mutiny, I failed. I'm a failure, a miserable friend.
The darkness is impenetrable at the bottom at the sea, in Davy Jones's locker. Somehow it's a serene place, a place without sound, but the weight of water is lying as heavy on my shoulders as my guilt. I should do something- anything- instead of indulging in self-pity and feelings of guilt. There's always a way out, I can hear Jack saying from the far distance of my memories, ye juss have to look at it from a different angle. But here there's only water, endless water, and I guess even he couldn't talk himself out of this wet hell.
Suddenly a faint golden light appears from out of nowhere and I watch with fascination as it becomes brighter and brighter, just as if someone had chosen to send a ray of sunshine down to the bottom of the ocean. I lift my head in surprise, puzzled to see some dolphins approaching me. Dolphins?
The light is like a surrealistic haze now, I feel light and easy. The cannon isn't holding me down any longer; Im free of at least this burden. I'm swimming with dolphins towards the surface of the sea, I emerge, my head is breaking though the waves…
… strong hands pull me out of the sea and I'm being heaved into a small boat, a fishing trawler. I collapse on the planks, spitting out water, coughing till I almost choke. I crave air filling my lungs, fresh and salty air- perhaps that's an instinctive reaction for someone who has just been fished out of the sea, but I'm cursed. I don't need air to breath, I can't feel the soft, warm breeze caressing my skin… and yet I do. It hits me like a bolt out of the blue. I feel… overwhelming sorrow. I break down and start weeping, crying a helpless river of tears.
"Now, now, dear William, there's no need to drown my boat with your tears after I just managed to drag you out of the water." I hear a mocking voice behind me and groggily turn my head, wiping the tears from my eyes. Santiago is arching a sophisticated brow at me.
A maelstrom of thoughts is whirling through my brain and none of them is making any sense. Only one thought is clear and I fix all my mind on that.
"We've gotta save Jack before it's too late."
How long can a man survive, abandoned on a lonely island? How long has it been since Barbossa marooned him? How long have I been on the bottom of the ocean? I've lost track of the time, I've lost the bearing to reality. I'm confused, wound tight and slightly hysteric, almost dying with worry over Jack.
Overreacting as I was I forgot one very important thing. He's Captain Jack Sparrow.
But well, I just leapt ahead so let me start again, at the beginning.
TBC