Who: Rinoa Heartilly and Jack Sparrow What: Jack's not going to make it Where: Their apartment When: Midnight Saturday Rating/Status: PG-13 for CHARACTER DEATH, angst
Rinoa knew it was all her fault.
When the people in the streets had started dying, she and Jack fled to the ship, taking Angelo with them. Beforehand, among their neighbors, she had tried all her healing spells, using up all her reserves. As her magick got lower and lower, fewer people could be saved, and those she had healed only became sick again. Jack had assisted where he could, although much of his time was spent attempting to get the ships ready on the waterfront. She had even suggested he try and contact Calypso again, since the seas were now polluted and untouchable; surely the sea goddess would have something to say about it. But no matter what they tried, they couldn't get the ships to leave the harbor. The water was as thick as mud; no rudder could steer in it.
Dejected and at a loss, she and Jack retreated to the apartment, as she tried every spell she could think of to devise an answer. Reveal, Shell, Dispell, none of it worked. All that happened was she exhausted her magick completely.
So when Jack became sick, she had nothing left to help.
Too late, they had found the information about the water. When Rinoa had finally tracked down the information board, desperately, she’d burst into tears. She could have prevented Jack’s illness so simply, if she’d found this sooner. They hadn’t even thought of it, as they tried to get the ship to sail, drinking from the flasks they’d brought from home, showering in it to try and rid themselves of the stench from the sea. Rinoa turned off the computer, unable to find out any more, reading through a sheen of tears. Everyone who became sick had died. She couldn’t, wouldn’t accept that. She had been a sorceress. If it couldn’t save the man she loved, then what was the point?
Walking into the bedroom, Rinoa crept into the bed and laid down beside Jack. He was burning up, his shirt tossed aside and a find sheen of sweat on his dark skin. There was little light in here, only that which came through the window, but it picked up the drops across his chest. Licking tears that slid to her lips, Rinoa smoothed her hand over the dampened skin, outlining tattoos and feeling each ridge of muscle. She knew he suffered, but he did so silently now, in his restless sleep His breath was so shallow, she wanted to breathe for him. It was unfair that she could not get ill, could not suffer and die like he was doing. She didn’t want to be in this world without him.
Once more, she reached for magick that was simply not there, closing her eyes as she willed it to come with all her strength. She silently begged, pleased, railed against the powers that kept her from drawing more in this horrible place. Out of anyone, she needed to heal Jack the most. She needed Jack the most.
Whispering, brokenly, Rinoa said, “Jack….I’m so sorry. I’ve failed you.” Sobs started to wrack her body, although she tried to keep them quiet so he could have what little peace was left. “I love you so much…”