Chancing Fate - Jack Sparrow x OC

Part 3 - Chapter 9

The Black Pearl was moving steady across the sea as it moved towards its latest destination. Jack was on the upper deck, checking their heading and discussing with the group where they would be heading. It hadn't taken long after getting back to the ship before he and Barbossa began their bickering. Having had enough excitement for one day, Lena had excused herself to her cabin.

She had hardly noticed when she had begun to think of it as her own room and not just Jack's room that she happened to share with him. But nonetheless, sometime over the last year, she had truly come to view the Pearl as her home. Being back here should have been comforting, yet it didn't seem to ease her nerves as she tried to relax after their run in with the East India Trading Company.

Lena could only hope that getting her thoughts out in her journal might help. Pulling it out, she sat down at the desk, pushing aside some of the clutter Jack had left on it. Yet, as she stared at the journal, she hardly knew what to do from that point.

The page looked back at her, almost daunting as it became clear that she was stuck.

July... 1729

Was it even July still? The more she thought about it, it very easily could have been August. They had been stuck in the locker for days. But had it actually been so many days in the real world?

Eyes on the page, the world around her left focus.

The date. That was all she needed. What was the date? Then again, should it really matter that much? She knew she shouldn't care but couldn't get past the date! It was a silly thing. She knew that. So why was it suddenly so important?

She should have found it funny, feeling so desperate that she was starting to wish she had asked while aboard the Endeavour. As she stared at her journal, the tightness in her chest just seemed to build, one second at a time. A tightness that she hadn't even noticed growing. No matter how hard she thought, she didn't know what to write.

Gripping her quill tightly, she almost feared she would break it before she tossed it aside and she slammed back in the chair. The quick movement left her lightheaded as she sharply moved. With a push away from the desk, she finally had some space, but the motion sent the ink tipping over, splattering across the desk and the edges of some maps she hadn't moved completely off the desk.

"No, no, no!" She cried as she jumped up, knocking the chair over as she did. With a quick sprint across the room, she searched for something to use as a rag, desperate to clean up what she could despite the stain it was certain to leave. With the first thing she could find in hand, she soaked up what she could, frantically trying to clean up the desk. It seemed to only make it worse however as she tried to lift the ink from the table and the back of her journal. As she reached the maps, she didn't even know where to start. It was clear it was a hopeless case. And when Jack saw it... Why did this have to happen right now?

Lena backed up, stumbling with her steps as she looked over the remains of the mess. Nothing was helping. Everything she did made a bigger mess. Frustrated, she tossed the rag down and spun around as if she could make it disappear by not looking. Frantically, she swept her eyes over the room, looking for something to help. What she saw instead was the ink streaked across her hands. Covered in spots, her palms were decorated in ink without her even realizing. Without thinking, she began wiping them on her breeches, running them over and over, leaving black streaks over the brown material as she removed what she could. Yet another useless effort. With a cry, she slid down to the ground, her back against the tipped chair as she continued trying to rub off the ink. One swipe after the other, everything became less clear as her eyes burned. She just wanted it off.

Suddenly another pair of hands grabbed hers as they stopped her movements. With a jerk, she pushed back, sliding the chair as she went as she struggled to breathe, fighting through her tears, trying to will them to stop. She could barely hear over the beating of her heart. Still, she should have heard someone entering the room.