Title: The Ultimate Price
Pairing: Wishful Jack Sparrow, Will Turner
Summary: Just a short alternate ending for the end of Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End.
Spoilers: Don't read if you haven't seen the movie.
Disclaimer: Not mine, unfortunately.
The Ultimate Price
I feel as though my world has been shattered to pieces and now I am just going with the motions. No longer do I desire being here on this God forsaken earth, nor does anything bring me joy any longer. Not even Rum brings me joy like it always did. Sure, it helps me to forget for the time being, but once I sober up the thoughts that have been tormenting my mind return with a vengeance and I find myself reaching for the bottle of rum once again simply so I can escape.
I am not even half the pirate I used to be. That person died within this shell I call a body and now I am left empty. I never leave the confines of my cabin; trusting the Pearl under the command of Gibbs. My heart is heavy with grief and guilt. I never truly understood the meaning of the phrase "You never know what you got 'til it's gone". I had thought I did when I lost my precious Pearl, but even that doesn't compare what I am feeling now. I can say without a doubt that I fully comprehend the meaning to the phrase now. I have lost something special to me and am left with the knowledge that I will never get it back.
When I close my eyes all I see is an image of William Turner. I am tormented while awake and cannot even find solace in my dreams. The vision of Will in pain haunts me and my heart clenches painfully when I remember how limp and lifeless his body was.
I have done many things in the past that put the whelp in harms way, but he always made it out alive. I truly believed he would always survive, that he would never die. When I used him for leverage against Barbossa he made it out relatively unscathed. A little banged up, sure, but he made it through. Then there's the time I sent him to Davy Jones to settle my debt. That time I had been a little worried because I know what Davy is capable of, but somewhere deep in my being I had faith that he would be returned to us. He came back of course, but I couldn't deny the haunted look I found in his eyes. I never knew what transpired aboard the Flying Dutchman, but I had never asked and he never told. Now I will never know.
I will never forget the events that took place aboard the Flying Dutchman that fateful day. I had the heart of Davy Jones in my hand, was ready to plunge my broken sword into it, but things didn't go as planned. This is where my guilt and grief was born. I can't help wondering what I could have done differently. Plus, why didn't I stab the heart while I had the chance? Why did I hesitate? I had felt the tension surrounding us and I couldn't deny the dread I felt building within my being. I had known something bad was going to happen; could sense it. Sub-consciously I could sense that things were going to take a turn for the worse, but still I hesitated.
When Davy Jones plunged that sword into Will's chest my breath caught in my throat and my heart skipped a beat. I won't deny I was in shock; utterly dumbfounded. I was terrified as well, as I watched Will's life source drain slowly from his wound. I am sure my face had been like an open book; clear as day for everyone to see my emotions. I knew he wouldn't be coming back from this like he had all those times in the past. The sword had pierced his heart and no mere mortal could survive that.
Will's anguished scream and gasps will forever haunt me, they had nearly torn my heart out. I wanted to rip Davy's throat out when he twisted the sword in Will's heart. The fact that Will was killed by a sword he made wasn't overlooked by me. I knew Will's handy work and that was definitely one of his. The irony was bittersweet.
Elizabeth had held Will close as he desperately clung to his life, but I could tell he knew his fate was to die there upon the disgusting floorboards of the Dutchman. It was in his eyes, and what scared me the most was he was accepting his death seemingly with open arms. Seems to me the only things he regretted was leaving his loved ones behind. That is so like Will though, looking out for others instead of himself.
In that moment, I knew what I had to do. Immortality is something I desired; wanted to sail the seas for all eternity. That was my ultimate dream, but I couldn't be selfish. There was another person who needed it much more that me at that moment. There was no way I could let Will die, he didn't deserve to go out like that. He was much too young and had just made Elizabeth his wife. The other, more selfish, reason is I realized that I loved Will dearly and couldn't lose him. Falling in love is something I have always avoided, but that Will Turner is a sneaky whelp, and without my knowing he had made a home within my heart. Sure, I knew I would never have him in my arms because of his wife, but knowing he was alive and well was enough for me.
I had rushed to Will's side while Bootstrap fought Davy and had taken Will's hand so I could help him stab the heart. Elizabeth, however, in a fit of rage, had snatched the broken sword out of my hands. No matter how much I yelled; trying to talk some sense into her, there was no reaching her vengeful mind and before I could stop her she had plunged the sword into Davy's heart.
Afterwards, realization dawned on Elizabeth and she had cried in agony; no one able to console her. She was to be the Captain of the Flying Dutchman and there was nothing anyone could do. I had been upset with her for making such a foolish move without thought, but one look at Will's still face made the anger dissipate and left an overwhelming pain in its wake. We both knew Will's soul had left his body and there was no bringing it back.
I remember picking up Will's limp form and promising Elizabeth that we would burry him on a deserted island. That way every ten years when she was allowed to step foot on land, she could visit Will's grave and spend her time with him if she wished. Of course, this was also for me. I would be able to visit him as well if he had a final resting place I could visit. Knowing she would visit him every ten years had brought a slight joy to her grieving soul, but neither of us could be consoled completely for what we had lost.
When we had finally buried Will, Elizabeth had insisted that we burry her heart along with him, that way he would always be with a part of her and she knew he would keep her heart safe even in death. I haven't been back to see him since that day, but I know once my heart is healed enough I will make that journey.
Glancing up from my position on the floor I spy the sword leaning against one of my chairs. All at once an overwhelming anger courses through my veins and I find myself throwing the bottle of rum in my hand against the wall. I watch as it shatters to pieces; much like my soul. The anger that consumed me moments ago evaporates quickly though, and I am left feeling empty again. That death sword causes me nothing but grief, yet I can't find it in myself to toss it overboard. It is the only thing I have of Will's and I just can't seem to part with it.
This longing within my being for Will is an emotion that cannot be contained. I am sure my soul is doomed to be filled with this aching sense of loss and grief for the rest of my days. I can't seem to move on; stuck in the past. I have nothing to look forward to except death. All I want to is to die so I can possibly be reunited with Will. I have done some unforgivable things in the past though, so meeting up with Will in the after life is uncertain.
Despite Elizabeth making that incredibly stupid mistake, I still feel like a failure. I had failed Will once again and this time he had paid the ultimate price. I guess in some ways I paid the ultimate price as well, for my carelessness cost me the one person I truly cared about.