C (londonlover116) wrote in johnnyfanfic,

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Hello! *waves*

 I've watched this community for a while as well as writing fanfics! I don't believe I'm that good at writing, but I do adore sharing them. Here's the first two chapters of my story involving Johnny's character, Captain Jack Sparrow.

Fandom: Crossover of POTC and Phantom of the Opera
Title: +Angel of Music+
Author: Me! (londonlover116)
Disclaimer: I do not own the people and music you recognize in this. I only changed the name of the girl main character (you know in Phantom of the Opera) and a few other names. Other than that, it's original--from my own imagination.
Pairing: Captain Jack/Creole Daae (a.k.a. Christine Daae)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Urm...Creole gets "murdered" and then finds herself on a moldy ship. It capsizes into our world, and so the story kinda starts from there. I dunno, you just have to read it!


Chapter One

“…And Lord, please show me who this Angel of Music is—“

“Creole, my mother wants you to come back—oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were praying,” Marie, Creole’s best friend, said. She sat down beside her.

Creole took her hand. “It’s perfectly alright.”

“May I ask you what you were praying about?” she asked.

“I was praying for my father so that he still has a place in God’s Kingdom. I also prayed for the Angel of Music to come and guide me.” She looked at her friend straight in the eyes.

Marie furrowed her brow. “Angel of Music?”

“When I was a little girl, Father told me on his death bed that he would send me an Angel of Music to bless me. That was before your mother took me under her wing. Well, I believe he has blessed me with that gift: the gift of singing. Marie, I can feel the angel’s presence right now. Didn’t you see how well I did tonight?”

She nodded. “I did. But I don’t think there is such a thing as an ‘Angel of Music’.”

“But there is! You just have to believe.” As usual, Creole broke out into a song. She’s always done this ever since she and Marie were school girls.
“Here in this room, he calls me softly.
Somewhere inside, hiding
Somehow I know he’s always with me.
He, the unseen genius.”

Marie placed a hand on her friend’s knee and equally sang, “You must have been dreaming. Stories like these can’t come true. Creole, you’re talking in riddles, and it’s not like you.”

They both began walking through the corridor as Creole sang, “Angel of Music, guide and guardian, grant to me your glory. Angel of Music—“

“Creole, you must return back to your dressing room! You have fan letters to sign,” Marie’s mother, Madame Ortiz, explained, ushering her to the room.

“Bye, Marie, I’ll see you sometime tomorrow!” Creole called.

Madame Ortiz showed her to the flower-filled room. “You must get some rest, dear. You have a big day tomorrow.”

Creole nodded as the door closed, leaving her alone with the bouquets of flowers. She sat down at her beauty table and read the card inside an arrangement of lilies and roses, her two favorite flowers.

I’m going to stop by your room once you have changed. I would like to show you something up on the rooftop.

She gasped. Oh my! I had not idea he was here! I cannot wait to see him, for I have not spoken with him in two months.

“I am your Angel of Music. Come to me, Angel of Music.”

She set down the card and looked around. No one was there but her. Eager to see who if it really was the angel, she sang, “Angel of Music, speak, I listen. Stay by my side, guide me.”

“Look in the mirror, my Angel of Music. Follow me, Angel of Music.”

She stood and followed his reflection in the mirror. “My soul was weak, forgive me. Enter at last, master.”

The person looking back at her had a white mask covering a fourth of his face. He wore a cape and had a red rose in his hand, which lured her in a way indescribable.

“Come to me, Angel of Music.”

The mirror opened up like a door, leading her somewhere new and exciting. He clasped his hand over hers and began leading her down a wet and dark hall.

“In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came.
That voice which calls to me
And speaks my name
And so I dream again, for now I find.
The Phantom of the Opera is there,
Inside my mind.”

He looked back at her with a small, mysterious smile.
“Sing once again with me, our strange duet.
My power over you grows stronger yet.
And though you turn from me to glance behind.
The Phantom of the Opera is there, inside your mind.”

He opened the door and called out her name. Surprisingly, he received no answer. This is odd, he thought as he searched the room. He couldn’t find her anywhere. Then, he saw the tall, floor-length mirror open. Open? Why is this open? Curious, he walked through it and began exploring. This must be the sewer.

After walking through several of the identical halls, he could faintly hear the sound of her voice. Creole? No, it couldn’t be. There was a deeper, manlier voice that followed. He gasped. Oh no, the Phantom! Madame Ortiz told me about him. He lengthened his stride into almost a sprint in order to stop him.

“Get your hands off of her!” he declared.

Oh my. “Raoul!” Creole gasped. She tried to walk towards him, but the Phantom did not let her.

“I’ll handle this!” he hissed, trudging toward Raoul. He cornered him in the wading water. Raoul found himself trapped.

“You’re going to get what you deserve!” The Phantom unsheathed his sword.

“No!” Creole gasped. She stepped down into the water. The two men turned towards her. “No, he shouldn’t be the one suffering. I should. I shouldn’t have caused either of you to become this.”

Both men looked at her in shock.

“Who do you choose?” the Phantom asked.

She glided through the water, her eyes fixed on his. Her face was inches away from his. “You are the one I choose. I love you.” She kissed him with all her might. All the love and lust for him finally escaped in that kiss.

Then it happened.

The sword slit through her spine and carved its way out of her. She froze and fell down into the water. He hazel eyes turned to the color of musty smoke, blending in with the foggy water. She was gone. Gone forever, leaving the two men fighting for her love behind…or so it seemed.

Chapter Two

She was waiting in line. She didn’t know why she was waiting or how she got there, she just knew that there were people in front of her. What happened to me? She tried to remember what had happened, but her mind was blank. She looked around to see that she was on a moldy ship and it was foggy. But it was thin enough to see dinghies with a candle lit in each one floating around in the water.

“Hop in and float out to sea. Best wishes to you,” was what a young man wearing a grey bandana said robotically.

Raoul? she thought. No, it can’t be. Wait, am I dead? She poked herself. I can’t tell! I must be, though, since Paris isn’t near any port cities. But I don’t want to be dead! I’m too young to die. I have—had so much more life before me.

“Captain, it’s almost sunset. We should finish these up,” a man told the other man in the grey bandana.

“Yes, I agree. I can’t believe it’s been ten years since I’ve seen her…” His voice trailed off into a whisper that Creole couldn’t hear them.

Wait, does that mean this ship goes back to the real world? I can get to see my friends again! She smiled as she hid beneath a staircase to the upper deck.

“You ready, Father?” the man addressed as “Captain” called overhead.

“Aye, son! Let’s voyage back to the real world!”

Suddenly, the entire ship flipped over. Creole had to hold her breath while grasping onto a railing piece. She tried her best to hide herself from the crew.

A flash of emerald green light appeared in the sky as the ship turned right-side-up. Creole said a silent prayer, thankful that she did not die—again.

The ship was anchored at the only dock on the island. He had been waiting for this day for ten long years. The sight of a lady and a little boy came into view as he walked through the golden sand.

“Daddy!” He heard the little boy call.

That must be my son, he thought as he embraced him. The lady came up to him. He released his hold on the boy and stood.

“Elizabeth,” he breathed.

Tears filled her eyes. “Will. It’s been too long.”

He kissed her soft lips passionately. “I’ve waited ten years to do that again.”

“I’ve waited ten years to receive it.” She turned to her son. “Will, this is your father, Captain William Turner. Will, this is your son, William John Turner III.”
He tousled the boy’s hair. “It’s nice to finally see you. You even look like me.”

The little boy laughed and pulled each of his parents’ hands. “Come on, Mama and Papa, let’s go to the house!”

She saw the meeting from a hole in the stairs. She felt a tinge of jealousy for seeing that he had a family. Even though she knew better than to think that since she had Raoul, she still longed for that kind of embracement. She then found herself alone. The crew was nowhere in sight, so she took the opportunity to exit the ship and explore. This may be my home away from home for a while. She walked the way the captain and his child and wife went, which led up a cliff and to a small village. This is so fascinating! She observed the sights and smells of this newfound place that appealed to her so. I just might live here if I decide not to return to Paris.

A dirty and haggard mutt barked at her and licked her bare, pale feet.

“Why hello.” She crouched down and petted the friendly dog.

“There you are, Lucky!” a little boy called, approaching the hound.

She stood back up, making the boy in a pirate’s hat notice her.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you were there. Thanks for looking after him, I guess.”

“You’re welcome,” she smiled.

He studied her face which gave her time to recognize him. It’s the boy I saw earlier today.

“Hey, do you want to come over to my house? I’m sure my parents won’t mind one extra person.”

She was surprised by this, but didn’t show it. “Thank you very much.” She followed the boy down the dirt road.

“So what’s your name?” the boy asked.

“I am Creole Daae,” she said proudly.

“Cool name. My name’s Will Turner. I was named after my father, the best pirate in all the land. Were you named after someone?”

“No, I’m afraid not. But Will is a nice name,” she complimented.


They entered the tiny wood home as the three people inside turned to them. The woman and man she recognized, but the other man in scruffy clothes and a pirate’s hat was not. But she was drawn towards him. He seems so familiar, though.

“Mama, Papa, this is my new friend, Creole. Creole, this is my mum, my dad, and Uncle Sparrow.”

The father stuck out his hand. “Nice meeting you. I’m Will.”

Creole took it and curtsied as well. “You too,” she said softly.

He eyed her carefully. She looks strangely familiar, like I saw her in the Underworld. He blinked back the thought as he released.

“Hi, I’m Elizabeth,” the beautiful, golden blond haired woman greeted.

“Hi,” she said shyly. She felt ashamed about what she thought about her husband earlier.

Elizabeth turned to the man sitting at the table. “Aren’t you going to introduce yourself, Jack?”

Wasn’t he sitting loosely before? He seems tense now, Creole thought.

He flinched. “What? Yes.” He rose and approached her. “Uh, nice to meet you. I’m Jack Sparrow.”

Captain Jack Sparrow, you mean?” William III piped up.

“I guess so, yes.” He stared at her small face as she did as well.

“Aren’t you goin to shake her hand?” Will asked.

Creole stuck out her hand for him to take. He gulped but took it. They only held for a half second, but it was too long for him to take. He recoiled his hand as a startled expression formed on his face.

Creole became uncomfortable and asked if he was alright.

He gulped once more and said hoarsely, “Never better.”

“Uh, why don’t I show Creole to the guest bedroom while you two get back to what you were talking about?” Elizabeth took her hand and began ushering her to the back of the house. She gave her husband a look saying, “ask him what’s wrong and get back to the subject”.

Will nodded to his wife. “William, why don’t you get ready for bed? Mum and I will be there in a minute.”

“Okay!” Little Will skipped down the hall and disappeared into a room.

He turned back to his friend. “Jack, what was that about? I’ve never seen you act like this since you got the Black Spot. Wait, do you have it again?”

Jack had now managed to snap out of his daze. “No, I don’t have a bloody Black Spot! I was just thinking, is all. But that lass looks familiar, though.”

“Aye. But no need to worry about her right now. What were you going to tell us?”

He looked at his companion dead in the eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m dying, mate.”

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