Jonesâ terrible beastie was gone, itâs dead body washed ashore. It was merely a coincidence really that they had come to that particular island to re-supply on fresh water, but the sight of the dead creature had, without doubt, triggered something in him.
The most terrifying way to the Locker was no more, certainly one thing Jack was thankful for and if his plan was to be successful, going back there wasnât something he needed to worry about ever again. If his plan was to be successful⌠There was no guarantee that it would. He had no way of knowing whether or not Beckett would actually show up at Shipwreck Cove, the pirate could only trust that man to do what he wanted him to.
When it came to Lord Cutler Beckett, however, he was almost certain he would. His last encounter with that man had taught him that. For his former superior hatred pirates - and Sparrow in particular - with a passion and was willing to do whatever necessary to see them dead. All of them.
All throughout his life, the captain had avoided fighting whenever he could, always finding other means to accomplish his own ends instead. But nowâŚ. Now matters where different, for a fight was the only option left for them. The Brethren Court would have to stand together so to defeat the likes of Beckett and his men. Not a concept Sparrow liked terribly much, but it was the perfect opportunity to finally get back to Beckett for what heâd done to him so many, many years ago.
For the longest time Sparrow had stood rooted to the spot on the beach, staring at the giant animal that had once horrified him. Dark eyes were narrowed and he was about to drift deeper still into the raging sea of conflicting thoughts when he became aware of footsteps approaching.
Originally posted by amynagata
Hector was more than familiar with the shock that came with realizing quite suddenly that you should be dead, and somehow werenât anymore. Hell, he had experienced it for himself not all that long ago, and admittedly, hadnât initially taken it as well as Jack was. When the sea-witch had brought him back, he had been decidedly not okay. He had spent days not sleeping, barely eating, trying to process what was happening and why... Every feeling he experienced had felt raw and new, as though he were feeling it for the first time. Clothing was heavy and itchy. Water felt slimy in his throat. It had been nearly a week before he had been able to function normally, and Tia Dalma had done nothing to help him along-- simply let him be, let him move past it on his own. As much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, he wanted to help Jack because he felt bad knowing what the other must be going through.
âJack,â he said finally as he closed the distance between them, footsteps slowing to a halt in the sand.  âIt gets easier.â He said it simply, matter-of-factly, but in the tone of a man who knew better-- because for once, there was absolutely no doubt in his mind that he did know better than Jack Sparrow.
âWeâll have all this behind us soon, and weâll be back to just what we were before.â It was a weak attempt at reassurance, but it was an attempt nonetheless. He couldnât be sure just what else troubled his former-superior-turned rival, but he knew far better than to underestimate Jack Sparrow. The man was unpredictable on his best days, and anything and everything could be running through the manâs head.
Rather than press further, he chose to simply stand at the other manâs side and wait for him to acknowledge his presence.
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