Author: kumicho_zz & pikapikahikaru
Word Count: 651
Rating: PG-13 (Slight Language)
Summary: Jack's thoughts after the mutiny
Disclaimer: I own nothing but I do a pretty good impression of mickey mouse
Special: I worked on this with pikapikahikaru so I credit her with half this work.
The midday sun was baking everything unfortunate enough to be caught beneath its rays which, at the moment, included the former Captain of the Black Pearl, Jack Sparrow.
Jack lay on the beach staring up at the blazing sun, dozens of empty rum bottles strewn about him. He was lying perfectly motionless, just barely breathing. Moving was painful. Not a physical pain, such as being branded. Much much worse. It was a pain driven deep within him.
At least the island had been full of rum, a small consolation for losing his beloved ship… again. But rum, in any amount, would not help now. Nothing would help now. He would probably die on this god-forsaken spit of land. Just barely a whisper in the annals of history. Or a chuckle. A laughable, 'Wasn't there a captain named Swallow who lost his ship to his first...' Wait. Was his name Swallow? No, he was pretty sure it was something else...
Jack knew he needed to get out of the sun; he felt his thoughts lose clarity like a ship in a fog. But why? His ship was gone, his crew was gone… his dreams were dashed. For the second time in his life Jack Sparrow was lost.
Every notion that he was still alive caused him to rethink last night.
He did not want to think about last night.
A rush of bodies against his, the rasp of jeering as he lost control of a situation he couldn't even see coming. It happened all in an instant, a fleeting moment of hysteria and throbbing noise. Everything was a blur in vision and in mind, and through the haze of confusion Jack knew that the one thought that had crossed his mind couldn’t be right – it was too surreal, too unnatural. The crowd of his men grinning maliciously at him… it just couldn’t be happening.
But a creak beneath his foot as he was backed onto the plank spoke the first clear words he had heard all night – it was happening. Jack peeked below him at the ocean ready to swallow him whole; frankly, it was a more inviting picture then the one in front of him. His focus caused him to miss the sea of men parting, but what he heard was undeniable. The crunch of an apple. Jack’s eyes shot upward and standing before him was none other than his first mate. The man sneered down at Jack. And Jack realized… nothing could be more obvious.
“Captain,” he addressed mockingly, “I hope ye enjoyed your stay on the Black Pearl. Because this is a mutiny.”
The images flew through his mind; the crunch of the apple resonating in his memories sprang in Jack some primal urge for self-preservation, and he hauled himself into the shade. But the movement had only reiterated that he was very much alive and everything was suddenly gone again.
Helplessness, rage, loss, sadness This emotional cocktail had been felt only once before, and now again, as he remembered his snickering black hearted first mate sail away on his ship (His bloody ship!) those feelings swelled back up until he felt they would consume him. He stood up shakily, supporting his weakened muscles against a large palm tree. Outwardly, his face was stony, his expression blank, but his heart was a maelstrom. He would kill him for this. That mutinous, black-hearted, traitorous sea dog was not going to walk away from this. Jack reached into his belt and pulled out a pistol, the pity present his crew had thrown to him. This shot, this single shot, meant to save him from the slow agonizing death of starvation, he would save. Save it for the one man who truly deserved it.
"Wherever you go, whatever you do, I shall find you. This pistol shall never leave my side until its bullet pierces your mutinous heart!