Sea Change

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… watch for a box on Wednesday… *shifty * Readers/Reviewers: Thank you SO much for your reviews and encouragement!

Gibbs moved fast, especially for his age and temperament. “Stay down!” he ordered with a gruff tone carrying the weight of his years and fear. “You come above, I’ll shove ye over meself!”

Myrtle winced as the wooden door slammed between her and the older man. Rather than muffling the sounds of the battle above, Jack’s cabin seemed to magnify it. She wondered faintly if it were some trick he had learned, some bit of magic from an exotic island she would never see. Blinking back sudden, hot tears—unsure if it was her fear or her frustration that brought these forth—Myrtle sank down onto Jack’s bunk and buried her face in her hands. The ship rocked, sending her tumbling onto her back, and she yelped. “Damn it!” she cried, fighting the remembered urge to blush and look about, making sure she had not been overheard. The ship rocked again, this time the other direction, sending her sliding onto the floor. “Damn!” she cried again, her fingers splayed as if she could grip the dirty boards beneath her and keep from sliding any more.

The door to the cabin flew open and Myrtle could see out onto the deck; through the slice of light, she witnessed one of the more terrifying events of her life. Men were falling, littering the deck like so much debris. Wounds yawned like red mouths across sides and throats where no human hand had touched. Jack’s voice boomed over it all, commanding someone to bring the ship about, hard to starboard, but they did not move. Across the bow of the ship, a dark shadow fell. Myrtle scrambled to her feet, holding onto the bunk for balance. The shadow moved but did not pass. Rather, it encompassed the ship entirely. Silence reigned and she tasted bile in her throat. “God, no,” she breathed, pressing against the wood of the bunk. Her legs were ice—she could not move. All she could do was watch in horror as the dark ship settled in front of the Pearl, blocking out sunlight and casting the world in a pall.

Jack was not a stupid man, though he might act the part from time to time. Nor was he unfeeling. He knew when to be serious and when levity would work. As the dark ship silently dropped anchor mere meters from the Pearl, all gaiety fled his heart. “Well now,” he murmured. “This is certainly unexpected.” The soft moans of his men, most of the injured or just plain scared, were like a funeral march as he walked towards the bow of his ship. No movement showed on the deck of the dark ship, towering over the Pearl. Nor did any sound arise from within it’s shiny black hull. Jack stroked his beard thoughtfully, debating calling out to the occupants of the strange ship, but thought better of it. _Don’t go invitin’ trouble, me mother always said… _

“Permission to come aboard,” a rough voice called.

Jack stepped back reflexively. The voice seemingly had no owner. He peered hard at the other ship but saw no one. “Name first, mate,” he shouted back. “I like to know me comp’ny.”

“You know me, Jack,” the voice replied laughingly. “I need no invitation from the likes of you.”

The captain frowned. There was a flicker of movement aboard the dark ship, like a shadow darting into deeper blackness. “If you don’t need permission, why’d you ask?” Jack was tired of the game already. He wanted to pull away from this mysterious interloper and take his chances with Norrington to get his men to port, to get them some aide for their wounds. “Gibbs! Order Harrison to bring the ship about!” Silence met his command. “GIBBS!”

“Gibbs cannot hear you, Jack me lad,” the rough voice informed him. A figure coalesced from the ether on the deck of the ship before Jack. “You’re mine, lad… And no one can hear you.”

“I regret to inform you,” Jack snapped, his hand going to the hilt of his cutlass, “I belong to no one.”

The figure was tall, lanky beyond belief, and clad entirely in shades of red. He leaned on the railing overlooking Jack’s ship and smiled, deep creases marking a rugged, handsome face. “You’re delusional, Jack Sparrow. You belong to everyone, don’t you, lad?”

“GIBBS! Bring ‘er about”! Jack shouted, forcibly turning his back on the stranger and striding towards the middle of the deck. Men groaned around him but did not obey his orders.

“Jack, Jack, Jack! You just don’t listen, do you?”

A cold hand fell on his shoulder and Jack bared his teeth in a feral smile as he turned to face the intruder. He drew up short, however, when he saw that it was the man in red and not some other invader who had snuck onto his ship. “How the… when did… WHAT?” Jack shook himself. “I do not understand the manner of trickery in play here but you cannot frighten me, boyo. I’m Captain Jack Sparrow,” he smiled, spreading his hands wide. “The most famous pirate in the Seven Seas.”

“Not anymore,” the stranger said, laughing.

Jack opened his mouth to reply but found he had no voice. He reached for the man but felt nothing under his fingers.

“Now, you’re a memory.”