Wings

Jackie Sparrow flies for the first time. Young!Jack. A PoC Drabblet


The boy couldn't be more than ten.

His feet were balanced lightly on the decks, his eyes were bright and eager as he watched his surroundings. The men around him shifted, still unsure if his claims about being under the protection of Teague were correct.

His words were harsh, taunting insults said in a lighthearted, friendly voice. They only served to stir the men into action.

He laughed then, like a singing bird. That's what they had called him when he was chained, their singing sparrow. They liked to hear him yell with pain, so they called him their pet bird.

Jackie's dark brown eyes watched them as he danced away from them. They were like a pride of cats, seeking to catch him with their claws. He had tolerated them, but he was over with patience. The child, despite his injuries, was fleet footed as he raced through the ship.

His pursuers shouted, spurred on by the child who thought he could outrun them. Surely, they thought, he could not escape them over a mile from shore. Even the mile was a long way to swim for a ten-year-old in a world where most sailors could not tread water.

Jackie didn't seem to know this as he skimmed up the riggings. The clumsy captors seemed to not be sure how to catch him- the ropes were not a sure thing to hold their weight.

They seemed to quickly decide to solve things the simple way- shoot the bird, and the bird would fall out of the sky.

The child gave a small smile as the breeze ruffled his hair and he peered down at the figures. He had not expected to escape them as long as he had, and he was still at a loss on how to make his way back to his father. Jackie wasn't too concerned however, things had a way of working out for him.

The boy jerked back as a bullet thudded into the wood, and he nearly lost his balance. The men were stupider then he expected, because a single misplaced bullet could snap the wrong rope. They didn't seem too fearful over the eventuality however, for another shot rang out and Jackie felt a burning sensation in the hand he was using to cling to his perch.

Instinctively, stupidly, he let go and for a moment, it seemed as though he was not going to fall. He felt his balance faltering and he did the only thing he thought would work.

He jumped.

It was a miracle he didn't hit the deck, he would realize later. Now however, he was only aware of the weightlessness of falling, the feeling of freedom, of mind-blowing adrenaline racing through him. He let out a whoop of triumph, and it was all too soon that he saw the water approaching.

It was only a few seconds that he was weightless, but he knew why he was called Sparrow. Not because he sang prettily for his captors, but because on the ocean, he flew free.

Jackie Sparrow enjoyed those few seconds before he hit the water.

He swam underwater as long as he could, his lungs straining for air. When at last he was convinced the ship was not returning for him, he broke the surface and smiled.

His grin wasn't the infuriating, snide smirk he had worn earlier, but it was real, an exhilarated conviction that he had found something that was his, and his alone.

His father may be a lord of the ocean, but he was the lord of the sky.

Jackie swam, his strokes long and practiced as he set out through the rough seas. The men would not turn back to catch a small boy, not when they were already fleeing the Cove. He could not bring himself to be concerned, because after that moment of freedom- he flew, afterall- he was untouchable.

Later, when he was back with his father, the man would stare at him in concern. Jackie would tell him little else besides two words that said it all.

"I flew."


As always, reviewers are glomped with glee. This story is for the trio that reviewed Binnacle: Jennifer Lynn Weston, FREALTA (sorry, I can't get used to spelling your new name yet :)) and Nytd. Thank you all.