The Devil's Temptress: Dead Man's Chest || Jack Sparrow

XIII. Curiosity

Nicolette stood with her back the cabin door, her back hunched and her shoulders pulled up protectively as she chewed on her finger nails feverishly. Her eyes remained unblinking as she stared out at the open waters and blue skies which were made distorted by the stained glass windows. As the waves rocked the Pearl, she swayed with it, the coins of her skirt quietly singing along with the rhythm of the movement.

Apart from the light creaking of the ship as was ever present, there was silence. Not even the feet rushing around above her or the calls of the crew outside broke through the barrier which had been put up. She had been like this for what seemed like hours and Jack knew exactly what scenes were running through her head.

She was reliving every ounce of the pain Beckett had inflicted, remembering all of the fear and the hurt and anxiety. He knew because the same memories were coming to him. Just one glance over at the bed was enough to bring the image of her lying there back so strongly. He could smell the burning flesh which had lingered around her for days and feel her nails digging into Jack's arms as they did each time she awoke in a panic.

They vowed never to speak of that day again. Not so long as they both lived. And yet there they were with Jack telling her that Beckett was back and he was looking for her.

"Nicolette?" He called, softly, from his place by the cabin door.

Upon entering, he had only had to utter the mans name for her to know. All of the puzzle pieces suddenly fit together in her brain and it was all so clear. How could she not have seen earlier? All Jack had said was "it's Beckett" and it had been enough for the connection to be made which had sent her into an eerie vow of silence.

When she failed to acknowledge Jack, he started to take slow steps intending to cross the cabin and join her side. But as she began to shake her head, he stopped.

"Of course it's Beckett." She spat, eyes narrowing and focusing on nothing in particular. She began to rub the tips of her fingers together in agitation, her jaw clenching and her breathing growing heavier as the memories began to fade, leaving behind raw emotion.

As Nicolette turned her head to look at Jack from the corner of her eye, she scoffed and clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

"Tell me again what the boys plan was?" Jack started to approach her again, cautiously, and cleared his throat as he started over. He was still trying to make sense of it himself, seeing as the news had come through Elizabeth, so as he talked, his brow creased in confusion.

"From what I understand, the boy made a deal with Beckett to bring him back my compass and you." He finally came to her side, stopping and turning into her as she stayed focused on the waters. "I assume in return him and Elizabeth were to be pardoned."

Nicolette swallowed hard and sniffed loudly but as she tried to wipe away and hide the stray tear which she had allowed to fall, Jack took her hand in his. He wasn't shocked when she immediately pulled away, turning from him to walk away towards the liquor cabinet.

"Right, of course." She scoffed softly. "No wonder he was so eager for my help. He was down right begging at one point." All of the emotions she was feeling started to fight one another, and bitterness started to win as she plucked out a bottle of expensive wine and pulled the cork from its neck, letting it drop and roll around the cabin floor. "He didn't want my help he just needed me close." Nicolette took a few long gulps of the potent liquid, gasped when the bottle was finally removed from her lips.

"He's not going to lay a finger on you." Jack snapped, the anger finally beginning to infect him as he saw how she was rolling back so quickly to the bitter woman he had found by Barbossa's side. "Either of them. The whelp will pay for bringing you here."