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James opens his eyes and knows that he has, yet again, awoken to a dream.
He is lying on a flat grey plain covered here and there by wisps of cloud, and Jack is lying next to him, propped up on an elbow. It is a Jack he met only once, seventeen years ago, his face clean-shaven except for a thin moustache, and his hair waving down to his shoulders.
‘Where did you get that, love?’ Jack murmurs, tracing the little figurine tied to James’s wrist with his finger.
‘You gave it to me, Jack.’
Jack looks at him in confusion, sitting up straighter. ‘I don’t believe I told you my name, Jim. And how do you explain this?’ He pulls back his own sleeve to reveal the same miniature angel tied around his wrist with a worn thread.
James sighs and shifts so that his head is resting in Jack’s lap. ‘It’s complicated, Jack.’
Jack looks down thoughtfully at him, running his fingers through James’s hair, and James realises that his hair is short again, only slightly longer than it was during his first encounter with Captain Jack Sparrow. ‘You look older. So much older than when I last saw you.’ He looks around. ‘Where are we, anyway?’
James sighs again, and closes his eyes. ‘I don’t know, Jack. I think I’m dreaming.’
‘That doesn’t explain why I’m in your dream, love.’ Jack rubs his thumb across James’s temple in a familiar gesture, and James finds himself relaxing under his touch. ‘Or why your skin is so cold.’
‘I don’t know either, Jack. I think I might be dead.’ He opens his eyes to look up at Jack, reaching up to touch his warm cheek. ‘Are you a memory?’
Jack chuckles. ‘I wouldn’t know, love. It’s your dream.’ He bends his head to brush his lips lightly against James’s forehead. ‘Did you find your way back to your ship all right that night, Jim?’
James smiles. ‘Yes, Jack.’
‘I wondered about that for a long time. Wondered if I had done the right thing by you.’
James sits up and takes Jack’s warm hand in his. ‘You helped me, Jack. In more ways than I can ever tell you.’
Jack winces. ‘By fucking you, and then walking away without a backward glance?’
‘No, Jack, don’t ever think that way. I took so much strength from you that night, and I could never give you anything in return.’
‘You did, James. You did.’
‘What did I give you, Jack?’
‘Your trust. The way you gave yourself to me, the way you could trust a stranger. Even if I was capable of hurting anyone before that night, I wouldn’t have been able to after I met you.’ He reaches up to brush a strand of hair away from James’s forehead. ‘Are you sure this is your body, James?’
James looks at him curiously, and then unbuttons his shirt. ‘Barnacles,’ he says in surprise. ‘I have barnacles growing out of my chest.’ He touches an unblemished spot on his skin. ‘I had a burn here. And a wound in my back.’
Jack turns him around and pulls his shirt down. ‘No wound there.’
‘Does my face look the same?’
‘Every inch.’
‘How do you know, Jack? How did you recognise me? We never really saw each other’s faces that night.’
Jack looks puzzled. ‘I don’t know, James. I just knew.’
‘How did you know this wasn’t my body?’
Jack laughs. ‘Mainly because of this.’ He touches James’s earlobe with a fingertip, and James reaches up to find a small gold ring there.
Jack chuckles. ‘Didn’t think you were the sort to get your body pierced.’
He leans forward to run the tip of his tongue over the earring, and James finds a familiar shiver of pleasure run up his spine at Jack’s closeness. ‘I must look exactly like my ancestor,’ he murmurs.
‘Clarke? Aye, you do.’
‘How in the world did you know that?’
Jack shrugs. ‘I don’t know, James. I just did. So I’m assuming that if you’re in his body, he’s in yours?’
‘I think so.’
‘And where’s your body?’
‘With you, Jack. On the Pearl.’
‘Ah. That must be the other Pearl I’ve heard so much about, since my ship’s right here.’
James turns around to find the most remarkably clear ocean he has ever seen, with the Pearl moored at the edge of the beach.
He turns back to Jack. ‘I don’t think this is a dream, Jack.’
‘Aye, lad. Neither do I.’
‘Then where are we, Jack?’
‘I don’t know, James, but I know you shouldn’t be here.’
James sighs. ‘I don’t think you know how to bring me back. The other you, I mean.’
Jack jumps to his feet and holds out a hand to James. ‘Then I think we should help me, don’t you?’
James takes his hand and lets himself be pulled to his feet. ‘Where are we going, Jack?’
‘Well, the only place I’ve seen that before’ — he gestures to James’s chest — ‘is on Davy Jones’s ship.’
‘The Flying Dutchman.’
‘The Flying Dutchman.’ Jack is already scrambling up one of the Pearl’s mooring ropes. ‘Are you coming, or what?’
—
They are the only people on the Pearl, and they could as well be the only ones in the world, since there is only ocean as far as the eye can see. Jack stands at the helm, the compass in one hand, and James leans against the railing, looking at the horizon.
‘A doubloon for your thoughts, mate.’
James smiles at him over his shoulder. ‘I was just wondering what you’re doing. The other you.’
‘Ah. Your Jack, you mean.’
James nods, rubbing the small angel at his wrist absently with his thumb. ‘Clarke must be driving him crazy.’
‘How much do you know about this ancestor of yours, James?’
‘Not much. Just that he was a sailor, and that he disappeared when he was quite young. I didn’t even know until recently that he’d been a pirate.’
‘This treasure of his – what do you know about that?’
‘From what you – the other you – told me, it gives the powers of invincibility and eternal life.’
Jack nods. ‘There’s only one thing I’ve heard of that can do that, and that’s a philosopher’s stone.’
‘You think Clarke had a philosopher’s stone?’
‘Aye. And it not only does what you mentioned, but it also turns any stone that it touches into gold.’
‘Small wonder then that every pirate I know is after it. Every pirate but you, that is.’
Jack shrugs in honest puzzlement. ‘I don’t know why that is, James. If I know me, I’d be after it like everyone else.’
James smiles. ‘Maybe it’s because everyone else is after it that you aren’t interested. I’ve never known Captain Jack Sparrow to be anything but unique.’
Jack laughs. ‘You give me too much credit, love. I’m just a rascally pirate at heart.’ He gives James a quick look. ‘You don’t think I’m just using you to get to the treasure?’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
James laughs. ‘Whose side are you on anyway, if not your own?’
‘I’m just on your side at the moment, James.’
‘Well, it’s not like I wouldn’t have considered that possibility. But I just couldn’t, Jack. You… you wear your heart on your sleeve.’
Jack grins devilishly. ‘I’ve never been found guilty of that before. Maybe just where you’re concerned.’
‘Maybe,’ James smiles.
‘Come on, I want to show ye something. The Pearl can handle herself.’
James follows him back to the captain’s cabin, where Jack pulls a book off the shelf. ‘This is the Mutus Liber. The wordless book. Written by an apothecary, or rather drawn by one, since it has no text.’
James leafs through the thin volume of exquisite illustrations, each detailing the alchemical uses of the philosopher’s stone. ‘Jack… if you’ve been interested in this for so long, then it’s even more mystifying why you don’t want the stone for yourself.’
Jack perches on the edge of his desk and looks at him thoughtfully. ‘Maybe I’ve found a greater treasure.’ He tilts his head and looks long at James, his eyebrows arched, making James bite his lip and look away.
Jack laughs and hands him a bottle of rum. ‘Did I ever tell you you’re really pretty when I tease you?’ he grins, sliding a fingertip under James’s chin and tilting his head up again.
‘Jack, be serious,’ James begs. ‘You need our help, remember?’
‘I remember, James. We’re on our way to the Dutchman, remember?’
‘I do,’ James smiles. ‘I was just trying to change the subject.’
‘I thought as much,’ Jack grins, clinking his bottle against James’s. His grin vanishes suddenly, and he puts his bottle down on the desk before he can drop it.
‘Jack, what is it? What’s wrong?’ James springs to his feet in alarm, his hand on Jack’s shoulder.
‘I think – I think I’m waking up.’ And in an instant, James finds himself clutching at thin air as Jack vanishes from before his eyes.
—
James sits with Jack’s book at the helm, somehow feeling that he can keep the Pearl better company when he is at the wheel. The ship gives a creak, and he involuntarily puts a hand on the wheel. ‘I know. I wish he was back too. You’ll just have to make do with me until he gets back.’
He keeps a hand on the wheel as he goes back to the book. Save for the first illustration, which seems to have an embedded Latin quotation, none of the others contain any text, as Jack had said. From what he can make out, the words seem to be a warning of some sort, suggesting that the stone will only be visible to those who can truly see it. He looks up as a familiar figure steps out of the captain’s cabin.
‘Jack!’ He springs up and throws his arms unabashedly around Jack, who sags against him and lets his arms slip around James’s waist.
‘Are you all right? What happened?’
Jack pulls them both down to the deck, leaning his back against the mast. ‘Seems there’s only one of me, and I can only be here with you when I’m asleep.’
‘You’re Jack? Really? Not a memory?’ James says wonderingly.
Jack smiles tiredly. ‘I really am, James. And I can’t tell you how good it is to see you, after just visiting your unholy grandfather.’ He leans against James’s shoulder, nuzzling his face into his neck, and James swiftly wraps his arms around him. ‘I told you I wouldn’t be able to stand looking into your eyes and seeing someone else there, but I had no idea how horrible it would be.’
‘Is he really so bad?’ James murmurs against his hair.
Jack lifts his head and snorts. ‘If you weren’t the splitting image of him, I’d say you were adopted.’
‘Jack – if you really are you, why didn’t you know that before?’
‘I don’t know, James. I guess I had to go back there before I could find that out.’
‘Do you think you’ll remember, when you wake up?’
Jack sighs. ‘I don’t know. I hope so.’
‘What’s happening out there, Jack?’
‘Well, it seems we’re looking for Davy Jones there as well. Or rather, waiting for him to find us. Which I dearly hope he does before we leave the waters of the Caribbean entirely, or we’ll be stuck with Clarke. Tia seems to be making no headway on her spell, and Clarke told me there’s nothing that can be done anyway as long as you both are physically distant from each other.’
‘You believe him?’
‘I have no choice, James. I told Tia to keep trying, though.’ He looks up at the sun, high in the sky. ‘The sun doesn’t move here, does it?’
James shakes his head. ‘The sky’s been the same bloody perfect blue ever since I can remember.’
‘We don’t need to eat or sleep, do we?’
James shakes his head. ‘I don’t think so. I don’t feel in the least bit tired.’
‘We can drink, though,’ Jack grins, and pulls out his ever-present bottle of rum.
James laughs, shaking his head. ‘Incorrigible.’
Jack leans in to brush his mouth against James’s, his lips wet with rum, and James leans instantly into him, his lips parting to allow Jack to explore his mouth. Jack entangles a hand in James’s hair and kisses him indulgently for several moments, sighing contentedly as he finally pulls back. ‘I’ve been wanting to do that all day. To bloody Clarke.’
‘Well, you’d better not,’ James frowns.
‘Jealous, are we?’ Jack teases softly. ‘You’ve no cause to be. It’s your body, after all.’
‘Jack Sparrow, if you touch him, I’ll…’ He stops, and Jack laughs heartily.
‘You’ve no idea how difficult it is for me to keep my hands off him. Especially when he won’t keep his hands to himself.’
‘He won’t – what?’ James says indignantly.
Jack shrugs, grinning. ‘He figured out about us. Says your body’s got memories, or something to that effect.’
‘That does it. Strangle him for me when you get back, will you?’
‘I’d do so with the greatest pleasure, if we didn’t need him around to get you back.’
‘Jack, look,’ James says suddenly, gazing over Jack’s shoulder.
Jack turns around and sees three ships in the distance. He turns back to James, pleased. ‘We’ve caught up with ourselves, then, at least.’ He takes out his compass again. ‘Still pointing east. Pity it doesn’t tell me how far Jones is.’
‘At least he’s still in the same direction as we’re headed. You’d have a hard time explaining it to Zima if you had to change course.’
Jack shakes his head. ‘Zima’s the least of my worries right now. But you’re right, lad. And it’s worrying me no end what will happen when we do run into Jones. He’s not likely to give up Clarke without a fight.’
‘Shouldn’t we think of a plan, then?’
Jack clutches James’s arm, gazing toward the stern of the Pearl. ‘I think it’s a bit too late for that, James.’
James and Jack run to the stern to see the Flying Dutchman rising noiselessly out of the water, arresting its speed and moving into a slow drift behind the ghost Pearl. ‘Can they see us, do you think?’ James asks.
‘I don’t think so. Jones seems to be biding his time for now. He could easily have caught up with our ships.’ He looks at James. ‘What do you think, James? Time for a little excursion?’ James nods, and they return to the helm.
‘Easy, love,’ Jack murmurs to the Pearl. ‘Easy does it.’ He guides his ship against Jones’s until the starboard side of the Pearl is almost touching the port side of the Dutchman. The dripping ship has a couple of crew members on the deck, who pay absolutely no attention as James and Jack climb over the bulwark onto the slippery deck. The sound of Jones playing his organ drifts out on to the deck, and Jack clutches James’s arm. ‘The Kraken. I forgot about that beast.’
James stops as well, looking uneasy. ‘Where do you think it is?’
‘Somewhere down in the depths of Davy Jones’s locker, I presume,’ Jack groans. ‘James, that thing could single-handedly destroy the Pearl and the Dauntless without so much as breaking into a sweat, and eat the Prince for dessert.’
‘Let’s worry about that when it comes,’ James whispers back, his face resolute, and Jack nods. They slip below deck, automatically trying to remain quiet, even though no one can see or hear them.
Most of the crew is involved in a game of cards at a large wooden table in the crew’s quarters, and James and Jack slip past them into the hold beyond, where there are a few scattered hammocks. ‘They don’t need to sleep,’ Jack whispers, looking around. ‘These must be just for recreation.’
‘Two days,’ a familiar voice grumbles, and Jack turns around to see Bill Turner leaning against one of the slimy walls, drinking from a bottle of rum.
He kicks angrily at a hammock next to him. ‘Two days you’ve been asleep, and I have to do your share of the work as well.’ He moves away, grumbling.
Jack and James move closer to see Clarke lying in the hammock, apparently fast asleep. Jack looks at James. ‘You were never in his body, were you?’
James shakes his head. ‘This is the first time I’ve been here, as far as I can remember.’
‘Hm. Tia said the spell was only to summon the dead. Maybe that’s why it didn’t work both ways.’
‘The question is, how do I get into Clarke’s body?’
‘We should try to wake him up, I suppose.’ Jack looks quickly at James. ‘Are you sure you want to do this, James? You’ll be stuck on board the Dutchman if you do manage to get into his body.’
James sighs. ‘There’s nothing I’d like better than to get off this ship, Jack, but I suppose I need a body, don’t I?’
‘Aye, that you do.’ Jack kneels next to the sleeping body, and looks up at James. ‘Do you think we can wake you up, when Bootstrap’s hearty kick didn’t?’
James shrugs, kneeling at the other side of the hammock. ‘We can try.’
Jack nods and runs his thumb along the sleeping man’s forehead. ‘James?’ he says gently. ‘Can you hear me?’
James raises a hand to touch his forehead in surprise. ‘I felt that, Jack.’
Jack gazes at him in amazement. ‘And you didn’t feel Bootstrap’s boot?’
James shakes his head, smiling slightly. ‘Don’t underestimate the effect you have on me, Jack.’
Shaking his head in wonder, Jack turns his attention back to Clarke’s body. ‘James?’ he shakes the sleeping man’s shoulder, but his eyes remain closed.
Jack glances up at James. ‘Maybe we should work this like they do in the faery stories.’ He leans over the sleeping form and gently brushes his lips against his.
Both James and Clarke moan softly, and Jack feels James grab his hand. He clutches James’s fingers tightly and deepens the kiss. As Clarke’s eyelids begin to flutter, he looks up at James. ‘Fare thee well, Jim.’
James’s eyes fly open, and he sits up in the hammock. ‘Jack?’ he whispers. There is no response, and he touches his fingers to his lips. And you, Captain.