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Suppose it’s only natural to want to know what happens after we die. Which makes it rather unnatural not to want to know.
For all they should be concerned about, though, is that Jack Sparrow is simply and purely focused on living and having the time of his life doing exactly that. If that makes him test his limits and the boundaries of others, well, he isn’t really – intentionally at least. He’s only living his natural life to the fullest. It’s everybody else who’s scared to finally see what’s on the other side. Jack doesn’t care so he isn’t scared. He’s seen the worst of it already.
However, it’s not as if he wants to die. In fact, it’s the opposite. He’d much rather live forever than die in the end. But living with oneself forever, now that’s something else. That’s a commitment mano a mano. Risky business because Jack is neither honest with himself or others most of the time. He’s too busy to notice whether the words he speaks are true or not or how true they need to be or what he’s even saying half the time. Everyone’s always trying to one up each other and Jack has learned that the easiest way to get through that is not to take part in it at all. Instead, he is himself without thinking much more of it and sees where that gets him.
So far, it seems he’s had some good luck by his side to get where he is today because with his planning on the spot and lack of impulse control, he is happily surprised to find that he’s, in the end, after it’s all said and done, still the Captain of the Black Pearl.
By his side on the deck, one might also find a fiercely beautiful Elizabeth Swan and a certainly handsome William Turner. Both good people yet no, some may state, as they’ve decided to take their side by Jack’s. However, Jack’s too busy-minded to really pay any attention to such assumptions. He just appreciates their company while also at other times being annoyed by it. Perhaps more often the latter being the case than not.
This time, though, he’s not sure whether or not it’s a good thing for him to have them by his side. While Jack isn’t a very easily embarrassed individual, having had too many awkward moments in his past to really be ill at ease anymore, he rather does not feel comfortable sharing the following information to anyone besides himself.
That information being that Jack isn’t alone with his thoughts anymore. That is to say, from his time in the Locker, he’s been given a few more voices to speak inside his head in addition to his own. And they aren’t just voices but images as well.
Hallucinations. Jack knows the word. The fact that he knows they are not real doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel inclined to listen to them because what they say sometimes seems to be true. However, is something that’s true enough to make something real? Jack isn’t so sure about that either.
Tonight, on this rainy, dark, stormy night, the voices speak in the volume of the thunder above and it’s killing Jack’s head. He walks the front deck back and forth in a frenzy, talking to nobody and yet somebodies. He’s alone, left lonely in his madness, and still not.
“We should’ve just headed to Tortuga, this is a fool’s errand. The sea’s too rough and the rum’s nearly gone. Why did we think this was the way to go?” Jack mutters to himself out loud, wearing out the wooden floorboards with his constant shuffling. He sharply turns around on his heels on the slippery surface.
“The sea’s fine, it’s a plain old storm like any other”, the other voice says laxly. “We must collect something for the crew soon or otherwise it’ll be just you and the ship alone and nowhere to go. Or worst, Barbossa will take over as captain and throw you over the board.”
Jack grits his teeth and hits the railing of the deck with his fist in frustration.
“Bloody Hector, always in the way like a mongrel of a cat. Spitting out dead fishheads and making other people’s lives a living hell. Might’ve as well stayed in the Locker to save myself of his presence alone.”
Jack doesn’t really mean it but, like usual, he’s too emotional to care about whether it’s true what he says or not. All that matters it’s that he says it. It is something to release. Suddenly there’s a clunk and a thump heard from behind Jack’s back halting him momentarily from his manic pacing. Jack gingerly glances behind himself hoping it wouldn’t be…
But of course, speak of the Devil, the man himself has taken to standing behind Jack. Grim but thoughtful in his sturdy silence under the heavy dark rain clouds, Hector gazes upon Jack’s timid form sizzling with panicked energy all around him.
“What’re ya doing, Jack? Who’re ya talking to?” he asks in solemn enquiry.
Jack smiles ever so slightly, ever so quickly.
“Nothing! Just inspecting the sea”, Jack responds as casually as he can, waving his hand to gesture the waves below. Just then a particularly rough one hits the side of the ship and a splash of salt water drenches him. Jack nonchalantly blinks away the stinging water from his eyes.
A soft smirk has taken a place on Hector’s left side of the mouth. He then grabs onto Jack’s wet shoulder with his hands, tugging him away from the front of the ship.
“I’ve been requested to show you to the captain’s quarters”, Hector says as he escorts Jack towards the doors of said quarters. Jack frowns at that lightly. A loud voice in his head protests this turn of events. Elizabeth and Will reside in the quarters and Jack isn’t currently really feeling up to seeing them in his topsy-turvy state of mind.
“Is that so? And when is it that you’ve been made into the errand boy of this ship? Not that I dispute that. In fact I think it’s a well-earned, suitable position for you if you ask me”, Jack says to rouse some fight out of Hector before he has the time to open the door.
Sadly, however, Hector does not take the bait. He looks at Jack knowingly with soft contemplation in his eyes. He turns the knob and even steps in to make sure to lead Jack beside him properly inside.
Elizabeth’s sitting by the drawing board under soft yellow candle light looking over maps while Will is sitting by the darkened window and sharpening his sword. They turn to look at them instantly as they hear the thump of Hector’s wooden, or was it metal now, leg hit the floor.
“Jack”, Will says quietly as a simple statement of his arrival. Jack smiles to him but out of careful suspicion. Elizabeth stands from the drawing board and walks to Hector and him.
“Thank you, Barbossa”, she says. Hector nods his head and finally releases his hold on Jack’s shoulder. “Always a pleasure to aid a lady in her quest”, he responds and takes his leave in his graceful thumping of a fake leg. The door shuts behind Jack’s back and inside his mind he even hears a key being turned inside a lock.
“Well then. Here I am, as requested. What might be your matter for my presence on this fine stormy night?” Jack enquires in his off-beat manner while looking around himself as if he’s never been in the captain’s quarters. Even though they are specifically his quarters where he spends most every other night.
Elizabeth looks at him taking in his quite dreadfully drenched appearance.
“You’re absolutely soaked, Jack. Did you take a dive of the edge for a night swim?” she asks and lifts Jack’s coat at the lapel looking underneath.
“It is in fact raining outside there, dear. Becoming soaked is naturally what happens in those occasions”, Jack explains.
“Yes, but I don’t see any reason for you to be out there at this time. Gibbs is already looking after the navigation.”
Jack points a finger to himself.
“But I’m the captain, missy. I should be out there as well just to make sure we aren’t hitting any rocks during this treacherous storm. It’s my duty as it is my ship. I wouldn’t want any harm coming to her due to simple minded negligence.”
Elizabeth looks at him stern and quiet.
“The Pearl will be just fine. The weather isn’t even that bad”, she counters, “But I think you might be.”
Jack feigns insult.
“Why that’s no way to speak to your captain!”
Will stands up at that point leaving his sword be.
“You’re going to catch a cold like that. I’ll draw you a bath”, he says. Jack sighs out looking up to the ceiling in exasperation. Ever since Elizabeth took to staying on the ship, a grand copper bathtub was installed to the hygiene corner of the quarters shielded away by heavy red velvet curtains. She was very decided on the new addition for overall sanitation’s sake.
Will starts to fill the tub up with filtered water which he heats up with the small furnace placed underneath the tub. It won’t take very long for the water to warm up as the furnace has been left on from the day it was mounted to help keep the quarters stay dry overall.
“I don’t think that’s quite necessary, I’m perfectly fine as I am. You think I’ve never sailed in the winter before, do you?” Jack says nearing on pleading for them to stop their hassling about. Instead of giving him a break, now Elizabeth grabs onto Jack’s shoulders and steers him towards the bath. As soon as she lets go off her hold on him, she catches off his coat as well. Without it, Jack actually does feel like shivering after all.
Will smiles at him knowingly and picks off Jack’s hat next. Jack groans out under his breath knowing there’ll be no escape now.
The two of them make quick work of undressing Jack like they’ve done so many other times as well. However, those occasions usually led to some more enjoyable situations than the one at present. As much as Jack loves the sea, he isn’t that big of a fan of washing off. It feels too big of a hassle. It takes too much time, patience and focus – all capacities which Jack possess very little of. And the less he washes himself off, the grimier he gets and the more work there is the next time he has to wash off. It’s an endless cycle.
Once there’s no more garments for Jack to lose off of his body and feels utterly bare and stripped in front of his two mates, he supposes there’s no other way to get out of this situation sooner than by just going through with it. He carefully steps inside the steaming hot bath and then finally plops himself to sit down into the tub.
Although he feels nice and warm now, he still looks absolutely miserable. Like a mouser thrown into cold water without any fishes for miles. Elizabeth grins in self-satisfaction at the sight.
Will grabs a piece of soap from the small copper tray attached to the bath and wastes no time to dip it in the warm water and to start rubbing the bubbles off on Jack.
Jack stares at them, unamused, dead-pan in the eyes.
“Doesn’t it feel nice to lose some of that muck of your body? I’ll have your clothes be washed in the meantime as well so that in the morning you can feel sparkling clean”, Elizabeth says and goes to do exactly that – taking away his priced garments so that he’ll positively nothing to wear once he gets out from this bath.
“Elizabeth’s right. You’ll feel better when you’re clean. And this way you’ll hopefully stave off having a cold as well”, Will says then as he’s foaming Jack’s back that’s riddled with tattoos. Jack glances at him quietly.
“Feel better, huh? What makes you think I’m not already feeling divinely spectacular?”
Will looks back at him, deep into his dark brown, kohl rimmed eyes. Trying to decipher the mystery of his mind that is also so plain to see it’s as if an open book. Only it’s in the wrong language. A language not even Jack knows to read.
“You’ve been pacing on that deck for three nights in a row now. The crew has seen you mumbling and shouting to yourself. They are scared there are ghost upon the ship”, Will divulges. “They are worried. We are worried too.”
Jack swallows but the sudden lump in his throat nearly makes him choke.
Will switches the soap in his hands to bring his free hand to lay it on Jack’s head.
“Whatever is going on, you don’t need to hide it from us, Jack. Can you tell me what’s going on?” Will asks softly.
Jack gazes down upon his hands he’s laid across his knees poking out of the water – how the light layer of dirt and dust drips down in rivulets of warm water from them.
“I hear voices. And see things.”
Jack says it before thinking too much of it. Like usual. But what he says is definitely true this time. Unfortunately.
It isn’t uncommon for a pirate to be mad, of course. Most of them are in one way or another. Otherwise they might not be pirates at all. But Jack was already thought to be a madman before this all happened. So to be so uncontrollably mad now, to lose his grip on reality like this, it unnerves even the toughest of them. It could mean he can’t be a captain anymore. Not if he doesn’t know left from right and right from left. Although he does, still at least, but at that point they might not believe him.
He probably shouldn’t have told Will but the weight of his hand on him and the touch of his listening gaze upon him, it makes him not want to lie. To let somebody know the true depth of his peculiar alignment sanity-vice.
“I see. When did it start?” Will further questions him but in a sympathetic tone which keeps down all of Jack’s defenses.
“I’m not entirely sure. But it definitely got worse when I was trapped in the Locker. With no one else to talk to, it’s easy to start talking to oneself, you see. Now it comes and goes. Although lately, it’s been coming more than going”, Jack confides in him.
Will nods along. Like he understood even if he couldn’t.
“Thank you for telling me, Jack”, he says then and dips the bar of soap back into the water again before beginning to run it across Jack’s chest. Jack is slightly stunned into silence. He looks tentatively at Will as he washes him, trying to understand what his ulterior motive was to want to know these things about him. But Will doesn’t look like he’s planning on anything. There’s no suspicious glint in his eye. The brown orbs are instead warm and gentle as the mind behind them is purely concentrated on doing exactly what he doing now – taking care of Jack.
The lump in Jack’s throat remains but now for a completely other reason. He fights off the sudden pressure around his eyes and nose as he nears on tearing up. Thankfully, Will gets distracted from being at such close distance with Jack and possibly noticing his incoming cry as Elizabeth enters the room.
“There we are! They will be washed and pressed for tomorrow morning. You’ll look absolutely dashing, Jack, mark my words”, Elizabeth says clasping her hands together in happy contentment. She walks over, taking a seat with them by the bath.
“I won’t look like a pirate no more, that’s more like it”, Jack grumbles to hide his near emotional outburst and get himself back together again, even though the voices still are whispering in his ears at times and little men hang from his locks.
Elizabeth rolls her eyes at him and then begins governing the situation once again. “Don’t forget to wash his hair and face too, Will. I wonder when’s the last time someone took a look at that scalp to see if there’s any nits in there”, she says.
“No nits in my hair, Lizzie. Or if there are, there’s some in your mane too”, Jack retorts waving a finger at her. Will chuckles a bit but is a good lad to her wife, as always, and presses at Jack’s chest to tip his head and long locks into the water.
Jack is then submerged in the soapy but also gradually muskier and muskier water as the dirt of his person is washed away to the bottom of the tub. Only his face breaks the surface of the water for him to catch at least a breath. Will courageously dives his deft fingers into Jack’s untamed hair and starts to wash through the locks with confident motions. His fingers delve as far as to Jack’s scalp and as they rub against it, Jack feels the most wonderful sensations run along his spine all the way from his head to his tippy-toes. But it’s not only Will’s doing for Elizabeth has rolled up her sleeves as well and went to town on Jack’s feet. She uses a great amount of soap to get through each toe individually and then over the hard skin of Jack’s heels.
Jack begins to recognise that this isn’t Hell after all – it is Heaven.
“Hey, watch out!” Will suddenly bursts out when Jack nearly drowns himself by slipping his whole head underneath the water from getting so relaxed. Jack blinks open his eyes he didn’t realize he had closed appearing quite baffled. Will keeps a secure hold of his head now to keep it at the surface. Elizabeth laughs at him like the wicked witch she is but continues to massage him from his feet to his shins with the soapy water.
“You gotta be careful you two. If you keep doing those delightful ministrations on me, I’ll fall asleep right here and now”, Jack says.
Will’s palm encompasses his cheek then and his thumb brushes gently the water around his eye to wash away the mess the sun blocking kohl has made. “Fall asleep if you’ll like, you certainly need it. But let me first finish washing you face”, Will tells him and continues with his proceedings.
Jack closes his eyes for him, consciously this time, to let him do as he pleases. At the same time, Elizabeth’s hands trail further up Jack’s legs to make sure every inch of him gets cleaned off. It certainly tickles if nothing less and Jack almost wants to squirm away but the woman is an unstoppable menace. Jack just presses his hands onto the bottom of the tub to keep still.
In the end, he does in fact fall asleep in the tub. The previous unslept nights spent pacing across the deck of the ship have undoubtedly done their deed and Jack practically melts away into complete comforting darkness without any dreams to speak of and certainly no voices to which be forced to listen to.
When he wakes up again, momentarily sometime during the late late night, he finds himself in the grand bed, tucked under the silk sheets between the lass and the lad. He’s dry and warm and, without a doubt, quite clean indeed for the first time in a while. And he’s content, too, for the first time in a long time. There isn’t a single voice or a delusion of a person calling out to him. He feels as sane as he’s ever been – which, granted, may not be saying much. But Jack doesn’t mind it or so far it seems it’s not bothering a whole lot of other people either.
Elizabeth has her hand laid across Jack’s chest while Will has him tucked around his own tanned arm. Jack easily slips back into sleep, the moonlight dancing across the ceiling lulling him into calm dreams.
In the morning, he wakes up next to Will who has propped himself up on his side on his elbow. His other hand paints invisible patterns on Jack’s bare chest quietly. He himself is clothed and Jack, in the bright morning sun, feels suddenly very naked next to him. Will notices his awakening and smiles at him warmly.
“Elizabeth has gone to fetch your garments. She won’t be long. There’s tea on the table, would you care for some?” Will says. Jack looks over him to the round mahogany table where the silver platter has been set with a steaming pot of tea.
“Please”, Jack manages to voice. His throat feels quite dry. He wonders whether or not he did catch a cold last night despite the warm bath and all that. Will hands him a cup as he sits back down on the bed and Jack gingerly takes a sip of the hot liquid. It helps, fortunately.
Elizabeth comes then with a newly washed pile of clothes in her arms. She lays them on the foot of the bed with a small smirk. “Here we go. They might not be as clean as new but they smell nice and fresh if nothing else.”
“Thank you, dear. Quite kind of you even if not requested or even complied with”, Jack says and sets down his tea on the bedside table.
“You complied the second you let us draw you that bath, Jack. Don’t try to deny it. With you avoidance skills for the disagreeable, the bath was but a mere suggestion. However, I never got to ask you, before you fell into slumber in the tub and Will had to carry you to bed, what were you doing out on that deck for all those nights?” she asks then, the dreaded question.
Jack wonders if he can tell her, but Will already knows and he’d then know if Jack wouldn’t tell her the truth which would probably not end well. Then again, what harm could it possibly do to tell her? It wouldn’t give her much advantage over him, would it? She’s already proven herself capable of killing Jack without much any help but her charm and devilish wittiness. All she might do is bugger the hell out of Jack with silly concern and what else she might think up to do with her big brains.
Jack hasn’t said anything for a moment, and it’s weird, but then again what he’ll soon say is not much better. He looks at Elizabeth, bravely and cowardly at the same time, and swallows.
“I’ve been hallucinating. That’s what I was up to on the deck. I’m hearing voices and seeing things that aren’t real. It was keeping me up at night, infuriating me and I didn’t want you to know so I stayed away. Simple as one two three”, Jack tells her as unconcernedly as he can with the worrisome information he’s giving her.
“Oh”, she just says to it. Her mouth formed in that delicate ‘o’ shape and eyebrows raised lightly. But then, ever so steadily and gracefully, her expression returns back to normal. And then to something edging on frustration.
“You didn’t need to stay away. You shouldn’t have. We could’ve helped you!”
These two – they always surprise him.
“Oh yes, you two would have just loved to look after yours truly in the midst of my delirium. What a lovely way to spend the night. Watch over Jack so that he doesn’t go around beating his head into the wall. Much better than keeping company to one another in utter lovely privacy”, he remarks and sits up better to pull the pile of clothes towards himself and start to dress. But Elizabeth grabs onto them first and Jack’s left empty handed by her once again. She looks at Jack, but with more sympathy this time.
“I’m sorry, Jack. I can see that this is a difficult condition for you to be in. But now that we know, could you allow us to help you? To make sure you’re alright even when you aren’t?” she asks. And oh, isn’t she such a sweet doll, how could measly pirate say anything contradictory to that.
Will’s hand has taken to caressing Jack’s arm without him even discerning it but now that he’s there, pondering over her words in peace, he looks over his shoulder to the man sitting beside him and his overwhelmingly welcoming aura that precedes him. Will gazes back at him and cards the loose locks away from Jack’s shoulder to his back to see him better.
“Will you?” he asks too. And then adds, “Jackie?”
Jack’s insecurities suddenly are carried away at that name, reserved for few, spoken so tenderly by the lad’s tongue. Jack turns back to look at Elizabeth again, fully complacent and calm in his choice this time.
“If it’ll keep you two less worried about me so that I can still walk the deck alone as well, fine. I’ll let you get inside my head too. But I fully expect this piece of sensitive information to stay inside the quarters. Not single body or soul or even a walking skeleton is to know about it, am I understood?”
Elizabeth smiles again, wide and toothy this time, and leans in to rest her hand on Jack’s knee in polite gratitude. Jack can feel Will’s firm but soft lips press against his shoulder. “Understood”, they confirm.
But then suddenly the velvet curtains drawn around the door side of the bed are slightly pulled away, and oh damn, it has to be the Devil himself again!
“Ah, Jacky-boy has finally gone off the deep end, I hear. My, my… Well, it was only a matter of time, wasn’t it, Jack?” Barbossa grins in his cockiness. Jack hastily grabs onto his clothes and draws them to his chest to cover himself up. Not that he really needs to but he feels way too naked, body and mind, in front of Hector of all people, for comfort. Will and Elizabeth look equally as outraged as Jack is but more irritated than jumpy and anxious as he himself is.
“I didn"t mean to come and eavesdrop but now I that I hear this, I"m relieved to know I wasn"t in the wrong with my own beliefs about you. I always reckoned pirate such as you must see and hear more than the rest of us to be as if a mad dog that smells a golden bone from miles away. Speaking of it, to my original question, when is it, my folly captain, that we’ll reach our treasureful destination?”
Oh, how the man dares to start with his demands for treasure as soon as he’s finished insulting his captain. Jack grabs the tea cup from the bedside table and throws it at Hector’s head. Wretchedly, the man is swift even with a fake leg and easily evades the impact. Jack falls back into bed with Hector’s loud, though thankfully retreating, cackle killing him slowly inside, and closes his eyes. Perhaps he’s seen enough of the deck for a while – maybe today he’ll just stay inside the quarters to wait out Barbossa’s immoral jests to die out inside his corrupted brain.
Elizabeth sees to that Hector has left before coming back over to Jack.
“Don’t worry. While Barbossa is a man full of himself, this hasn’t made him think any less of you. None of us think any less of you”, she comforts him.
“So you hear and see more than is really there? Well, that seems to be better than not seeing or hearing anything at all”, Will adds. “After all, you’ll always still be Captain Jack Sparrow. The worst and best pirate of the Caribbean”, he jokes but it does bring a smile to Jack’s face and he looks back up at him.
“And you remember that”, he says and points his finger to stress the fact.
“But now”, Elizabeth goes to remind them and picks up the first article of clothing out of the pile – a brilliantly clean white shirt. So clean, Jack isn’t even sure it’s really his. “Dress up and get ready to run. We’ll soon hit bay.”