A/N: So, I'd like to dedicate this to Third Person Omniscient, who asked if there would ever be a sequel like I originally promised. Which naturally got me to thinking, and this is what happens when I think. Yeah. It's…modern times I suppose, and oh boy is it gonna get angsty up in here(by which I mean as angsty as I'm capable of getting). There might not even be a happy ending. I'm writing enough fluffy happy stuff, and don't get me wrong, I love it. But occasionally, I wanna just tear the characters to shreds. I imagine centuries together isn't always sunshine and rum and happiness. Oh, and it's gonna be one HUUUUUUUUGEEEE one shot, just so you're all aware.
The tabloid slapped against the wall, pages flying out as it slid to the floor, landing in a crumpled heap. The front page was full of teasing snippets of gossip; who broke up with whom, who was in rehab, who was suddenly changing their sexual orientation for the third time that week. But in the very upper left hand corner, right by the staple, was the picture and tagline that had earned it the treatment of being flung into the wall.
"Jack Sparrow Is My Baby's Daddy!" shouted at the reader in loud splashy bubble gum pink and yellow lettering.
The person who had a thrown the tabloid, a one William Turner, collapsed onto the edge of the bed, holding his head in his hands and willing the angry tears that threatened to spill over to go away. He'd read and re-read the article, hoping it wasn't true, a misprint, some elaborate, hurtful hoax. But with each reading, the only thing he got was a reaffirming of the truth, and a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. On top of everything else, now this; Jack knocking up some former Playmate of the year turned owner of an escort service?
"It comes with the territory pet," Jack had reassured him constantly, whenever he felt insecure. "Y'know they mean nothin' to me, they never gave me the key to their heart, literally." He never took the key off, and Will had naively believed in what it meant, that Jack still loved him, that though he slept with the other girls to maintain the image, he came home to Will, still belonged to him.
Only the key to their bedrooms, Will thought bitterly. He had told Jack they should've just come clean, told the execs that they were more than just old college buddies turned manager and rock star. It was the 21st century now, things like that were commonplace. But Jack thought otherwise, and so had scads of blondes, brunettes, red heads, all scantily clad, all willing to do whatever Jack Sparrow, once the infamous pirate, now the infamous rock star, wanted, shoved at him by the execs who thought it would get their rising star noticed if he was seen with them. It fit the image they were building of him, having, for all intents and purposes, his own harem at every event he went to.
What also apparently went with the territory was the drugs. Will refused to even have them in their penthouse, and had on many occasions actually kicked Jack out when he found the syringes, the powder coated plastic bags, the rolling papers. Never mind the trash cans overflowing with bottles of Jack Daniels, Jack's drink of choice, and the occasional used condom. And there had been that one time he'd gone searching in the pantry and found one of Jack's "dates" passed out on the floor.
It made him long for the days of lazing about on the deck of the Flying Dutchman, working when it was time to, curling up in their shared bed at night, and the blissful days spent on land. When the times had started to change, and the age of piracy was ending, they'd been visited by Calypso, who had told them that since they were two of her favorites, she was allowing them to retain their immortality, and experience all the world had to offer. Overjoyed, they had traveled everywhere, once Will had freed his father and crew of the curse and his duty was no longer required, finally settling in America, more specifically, New York City. Jack loved the hustle and bustle and watching people. Will enjoyed the museums, and strolling through Central Park with Jack when it was just barely drizzling, but they still shared an umbrella. Lately though, he'd had the umbrella to himself, as Jack was too "busy" or so the higher-ups had told him. They'd kept on telling him that, even as they fired him not two hours ago.
"Jack doesn't need a friend to babysit him; he needs someone to actually make decisions for and with him, helping him rise to number one. It's for the best," they'd said, promising a handsome severance package, and that he'd still get back stage passes to all of Jack's shows. Huh, as if he needed it, he was sleeping with their star for god's sake, even if that meant as of late, simply sleeping in the same bed, with all intimacy gone. Still, he had made Jack, bought him his first guitar for Christmas, after much pestering and none too subtle hinting from Jack. From there, they'd discovered Jack had a talent on the guitar, and the voice of an angel to boot, and Will did his damned best to manage him. Ironically, that entailed a lot of babysitting, contrary to popular belief.
"Doesn't matter, this…last straw, no more," Will muttered, shoving clothes into a trunk at random; the only reason he knew they were his was they were folded in a draw, and not strewn about in piles, where it was hard to tell what was clean and what was dirty. He dashed into the closet, grabbing the portable safe that contained his heart, and jostled it in among his clothes before snapping the trunk closed. So he didn't have the key, he could hire someone to open it if he needed, or just blast the thing apart. He threw his toiletries into a travel bag, which he then tossed into a smaller duffel bag full of books he wanted, his lap top and everything that went with it, and his I-pod. There was nothing else he could think of that he might need, and besides, he wanted to be out sooner rather than later on the off chance Jack came home.
Of course, the minute he had grabbed his car keys he heard the lock turning and the door swinging open. It was not, luckily, Jack, but one of his band mates. It took Will a moment to recognize Benny, the bassist; his usually dyed black hair was now streaked through with white and dark grey in perfectly even streaks. With it French braided his hair resembled an almost gothic candy cane.
"Hiya Will! Didn't think I'd see you here," Benny greeted him cheerfully, his grin completely at odds with the piercings in his eyebrow, bottom lip, tongue, nose and ears. Will had always like Benny; he was so honestly nice, exuding goodwill and his green eyes always sparkling with mirth. In all the time Will had known him, he had rarely had an unkind word to say about anyone. There had been the odd occasion, but not often enough to cause a stir.
"Hi Benny, good to see you. I was actually just on my way out," Will replied, hesitating, "is Jack with you?"
"Oh yeah, him and the guys are on their way up we've got to practice before the next gig and hey! Where're ya going?" Benny called out, surprised at how quickly Will ran out the door, lugging his bags.
"Sorry Benny but I've really got to run!" Will shouted over his shoulder. He opted for the stairs, knowing Jack would never take them. He shouldered his way out the door at the bottom, out of breath, his cheeks aflame, and sweat trickling down his face and back. Fumbling, he hit the button on the remote and opened the trunk of the Jaguar Jack had bought him and dumped his bags in there. It was as he slid into the seat that he finally realized he had no clue of where he should go. Sighing heavily, he slumped over the steering wheel, running through the list of people he knew in the whole bloody city of New York that would possibly take him in on such short notice.
"Oh! Why didn't I think of her before?" Will smacked himself on the forehead, grabbing his cell phone and scrolling through all his contacts before he came to the one person who had told him that should he ever need a place to stay, especially if it was related in any way to Jack, that she would be personally insulted if he didn't call her first; there was always a bed for him at her place.
Jack struggled through the door, trying at the same time to not smack his guitar into the wall or spill his beer. Liev and Dewey brought up the rear, Liev with his own keyboard and Dewey with his drumsticks tucked into his back pocket.
"Did you guys run into Will on your way up?" Benny asked, trailing them to the large practice room they had, with sound proofing, amps, everything they could ever need.
"William? No, why?" Jack asked.
"Well, he was on his way out when I was coming in, and he looked…I 'unno, sorta teary eyed, like he'd been trying not to cry and not doing a good job of it. And he asked if you were coming," Benny nodded at Jack, "and almost soon as I told 'im you were, he was gone. I basically got a "hi" and a "bye". It was weird."
"Uhh…I think I know why he's upset," Dewey mumbled, rubbing awkwardly at the stubble on either side of his foot tall emerald green mohawk.
"Why?" Liev asked.
"He got fired today."
Jack stopped dead, causing the other three to bump into him until they almost landed in a heap. He turned slowly, his beer dripping onto the carpet. "He was fired? Why?"
"I didn't hear all the details, but I'm gonna guess they didn't think he was doing a good enough job…which is just shit if you ask me," Dewey added hastily, seeing the furious expression on Jack's face.
"Why'd he have bags then, if he was just upset about being fired?" Benny queried. "Being a little upset would warrant packing the way he was."
"What do you mean bags? Like he was going on a trip?" Jack dumped his guitar on the floor, already half way to the bedroom.
"Yeah, a long one by the look of it, why?" Benny hollered after him. Jack didn't answer, but kept running to the bedroom, urged on by a worried feeling that he couldn't place. He jerked to a halt in the doorway, taking in the state the room was in; clothes haphazardly thrown about, much of Will's belongings gone, the sheets awry. Jack darted to the closet and yes, Will's heart, which they'd guarded so closely, was gone as well. Lying on the floor, pages askew, was a tabloid magazine. He squeezed his eyes shut, knowing which one it was, and knowing with gut wrenching certainty that Will had gone and it was unlikely he'd be coming back. Still, he picked up the magazine, eyeing the cover, wanting to be certain.
By that point, his band mates had joined him, and were crowded around, peering over his shoulders.
"Another groupie claiming you're her baby daddy then?" Liev drawled, shaking back his auburn hair which fell in soft waves around his face. "That's the third one this month, isn't it?"
"I've got four myself," Benny added excitedly.
"I've only got two," Dewey moped.
"Yes, yes gentlemen, we're all studs. However, this one is different," Jack interrupted snappishly, "in that it's true. I was with her when she took the pregnancy test. She is preggers, and the baby is mine."
"How d'you know it's yours?" Benny asked.
Jack sighed. "We'd been together nigh on six months, rather seriously. An' then she comes to me saying she's knocked up and it's mine. Of course, I'm thinking I'll have to pay for it, and I really don't want that, so when we could, I had us get a paternity test and it is in fact the fruit of my loins. We had a tiff about that, and she swore to do worse than sue for child support…she went to the press, and this is the result," he waved the tabloid about.
"What's that got to do with Will?" Benny asked.
It was Liev who surprised them by answering. "You fuck-wit, can't you tell Jack and him were together even before we got famous? Didn't you notice the distinct one bedroom with one bed? Honestly, the way they went on, I was wondering when the wedding was going to be. Then we got famous and well…" he trailed off meaningfully.
"They threw girls at me like those t-shirt guns at sporting events. They didn't know about him and me. I told William that the girls didn't mean anything," Jack said softly. But with this new scandal, and his partying, and everything, on top of getting fired, it must've been too much.
"So what're you going to do?" Benny asked timidly. "Me personally, I'd like if you went after Will. I liked him, he was nice and a good manager."
"He doesn't know where he went though," Dewey interjected.
"Didn't he have that girlfriend type, Devi or something?"Liev wondered.
"Oooh! You mean the smoking hot one with the pretty hair and nice rack?" Dewey and Benny said excitedly.
"Yes," he replied mockingly, "that's the one. Wouldn't he be likely to go to her?"
Jack was already whipping out his cell phone and dialing her number.
"Hello?" Devi answered on the third ring, brushing a stray strand of her waist length thick black hair from her eyes. "Jack? No, Will isn't-oh hang on." The door bell was buzzing incessantly, and she peered through the peephole at a rather doleful looking Will Turner. She let him in and handed him her cell phone. "Jack for you," she said by way of greeting. To her surprise, he simply clicked it shut, hanging up on him.
"Troubles in paradise love?" She asked, head tilted to the side. Devi was the only one Will had ever told about his and Jack's relationship. He nodded once, before breaking down. Startled, she led him into the kitchen, where she prepared her patented pending cheer up Will Turner tea. Whenever he could no longer deal with Jack's infidelity, despite his protests that they meant nothing, he sought Devi out, and she did her best to cheer him. She was his best friend in the whole of New York City. As a result of the manner in which he often arrived, upset about Jack in some form or another, she didn't think too highly of the pirate turned musician. She set two cups of tea on the table and patted Will's hand. "Spill."
Wiping his eyes on the back of his sleeve and hating himself for getting so worked up, he did, his voice only catching slightly. "So I just left, and I'm not going back. I can't take anymore, he's never there…things used to be different between us. Now…I wish he'd never gotten famous."
"Wait, wait, wait. He got one of the bimbos pregnant?!" Devi was still trying to get past that. She shook her head, the gold hoops in her ears clinking softly.
"According to the tabloids yes. And I know how unreliable those rags are, but…I would not be surprised to find this one true. Rather than have some big confrontation, I did the cowardly thing and left before he arrived."
"Bet he's sweating it out big time, wondering if you're coming back and how mad you are," Devi said gleefully.
"Dev."
"Sorry sweets. Now, are you serious about leaving?"
"Absolutely."
"How far away do you want to go?"
"I was thinking of starting in the UK and going from there."
"You coming back?"
"I…I don't know yet."
"We can work with that. Now, one last question. Do you love him?"
"Jack?"
"Duh, dummy, who else?"
"I don't know that either. I would say no after this, but…"
"You're still confused with your head and your heart. Time away will fix that, trust me. When do you want to leave?"
"You're starting to make me nervous with the rapid fire questions, just so you know. Um…soon, I guess?"
Devi got up and fetched her laptop, booting it up and logging into a travel site. "Day after tomorrow, late afternoon? I'll drive you and you can leave your car here," she suggested.
"Works for me. Y'know, it's likely Jack will try and come here to talk, and I'm not in the mood for it, could you-''
"I won't let him in, have no fear dear Will. You'll be taking the spare room until then?"
"If you don't mind?" Will shrugged sheepishly.
"If I minded would I have just done all that to help you leave?" Devi grinned, playfully ruffling his dark curls. He batted her hands away, standing so he was taller than her and she couldn't reach. She beamed up at him before wrapping her arms around him in a warm hug. "You're a tease," she said, voice muffled by his shirt.
"How so?" Will asked, relaxing into the hug.
"With your stupid good looks and big brown puppy eyes and curly hair. Do you know how scrumptious you look? And then come to find out you bat for the other team. It's not fair at all."
"'M sorry Devi. I don't mean to be so devilishly handsome," he chuckled.
"I know you don't and that's half the problem. You've no clue how sexy you look, simply strolling about in the park, or the museums. There's nothing more striking than a guy who's sexy without even trying or realizing it," she stepped back, arms dropping to her sides. "Now here is where I bid you good night. And tomorrow, we'll go shopping and run some more errands to get you ready for your trip. G'night Will."
"Night Dev. And thanks again."
The following day sent the pair into the heart of New York City, buying Will new clothes and new gadgets and anything else they thought he could use for a fresh start. They put quite a dent in Will's bank account which he had previously shared with Jack, until Will realized that non-sober Jack liked to spend, didn't care what he was buying or how much, if it caught his fancy he had to have it. At that point, he'd split them up, given Jack his own card, and told him have at it. Will wasn't too worried about his funds; he'd been promised a handsome severance, and he still had saved up a small fortune, having been of the opinion of only buying what he needed, and splurging very rarely, on holidays, birthdays, anniversaries, that sort of thing. That night he packed in his new bags, and the next day he was off, unsure when or even if he'd be returning.
It was three years before he saw anyone from home again.
In the first of his three years, he not only explored England, but returned to Tortuga and Port Royal to see what had become of them. It was hardly cheerful to see the tourist traps they'd been turned into, both billed as "authentic pirate spots" or some such rot. Tortuga was filled with people in what they surely assumed was proper garb from that time period, and fat tourist families with matching shirts and fanny packs snapping photos of each other at the taverns, or in the stocks, or at the dock standing on an "actual pirate ship". Port Royal still remained the essentially the same as when Will had last seen it, and he had strolled the familiar paths, his heart, or where it had been, aching at the sight of the Swan mansion, or his old blacksmith shop. In that shop he'd first met Jack, and that jail, those hinges, that's where he'd broken him out and they'd set sail to rescue Elizabeth. Maybe if he'd left Jack there…but no, even with all the heartache he had now, he wouldn't trade it for all the wonderful times he'd had with Jack, with his kohl lined eyes, and gold flecked smirk, the beads and coins twisted into his hair. He couldn't have rum now without hear Jack's sorrowful voice in his head asking why it was always gone. Blinking rapidly, he had turned away, went back to his hotel, and booked the first flight out, thinking Paris sounded lovely.
It wasn't lovely when he arrived in a down pour, but it had soon lived up to its reputation as "city of love". It happened at the Louvre, again when it was raining buckets. Will had wanted to catch a taxi home, but had been heaved out of the way into an ankle deep puddle, and then hit with the wave called up when the taxi peeled away from the curb, leaving him drenched and with his ankle twisted from being pushed so hard. That was how Alain found him, nursing his wounded ankle and trying to push his sodden hair from his eyes enough to see to call another taxi. He had simply appeared next to Will, holding his umbrella aloft to keep the worst of the rain off him. The smile he had given Will had positively melted him, which surprised him because he had tried to keep aloof, not entirely certain he wanted to date again, if ever. But Alain, gallant Alain, had reached out to help him, a total stranger, offering to assist him to his hotel to put some ice on his ankle.
Now, two years later, he had moved into Alain's studio apartment, and had a steady job writing reviews for the newspaper on any and all artistic happenings. This particular day was his day off, and it was a beauty of a day, so he took advantage of that fact, stopping for lunch at a café in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower not only to people watch, but to clear his head. He and Alain had changed in the past two years, and not, he felt, for the better. And now for Alain to spring this on him…a shadow fell over him, followed by a familiar teasing voice.
"Well if it isn't our own little Yoko Ono."
Will looked up, shading his eyes from the sun. "Oh my god! Liev!" He got up, hugging him briefly before inviting him to sit. Liev sprawled in the delicate looking wrought iron chair across from Will, shaking back his hair in a gesture so familiar Will felt a lump in his throat. He cleared it as Liev asked him how he'd been doing.
"Truthfully? I've been better," Will sighed. "My boyfriend just proposed to me, wants us to run away together."
"Well damn Will, don't sound so excited about it," Liev chuckled until he saw the morose look on Will's face. "Not for you then?"
"He's pretty to look at, and he was so very nice when we met, but as time went on, I found out how emotionally clingy he is. He hates when I leave for anything, asks about every person I talk to, calls all the time and if I turn my phone off or ignore him all hell breaks loose. Him proposing is just another way to keep track of me."
"You need to get out of that mate. 'S'not healthy."
"No, it's not. But I'm sorry; you don't want to hear me ramble on about my problems. How've you been, you look great."
"That happens when one's getting shagged on a regular basis," Liev smirked.
"Really?" Will leaned forward in his seat. "Who's the lucky girl? Is it Devi?"
"What? Oh no. No, she and Dewey got together this past Christmas, caught up in a torrid, passionate affair of epic proportions. I'd call it disgusting if I weren't blissfully happy with Benny."
"Benny?! You and Benny? That's fantastic, for how long now?"
"Oh about a year. We're thinking of moving into a place together soon."
"That's great Liev, really, I'm happy for you," Will told him. "And for Benny. Will you tell him I said hi when you see him next?"
"Of course."
They lapsed into silence for a moment, until Will finally broached the subject Liev had been anticipating. "So how are Jack and the band?"
"We broke up not too long after you left. We're all still together, friend wise, but…we don't do much playing. We couldn't really, once Jack stopped showing up for practice. We just deteriorated."
"I'm sorry," Will murmured; he had felt guilty about that for ages, thinking he'd broken them up.
"Don't be. Without you managing us it would've happened anyway. But…do you ever think of coming back? Not just to New York, but to Jack? He needs you."
"I don't know, I had thought once that he and I were meant for each other, but after so many years together, and every little thing turning into some huge debacle…I doubt we could ever have any hope of reconciliation," Will shook his head sadly.
"Are you kidding me?" Liev demanded. "You two were what made me believe in two people being meant to be together. I had wanted to say something you know, about the girls, because I was the only one to figure it out about the two of you being together. But then everything went to hell, I never got the chance."
"Doubt it would've made any difference," Will sulked. "Jack was far too fond of his groupies. I was secondary in his book."
Liev rolled his eyes, never one to take such dramatics from anybody. "Then explain to me, William, why he has barely left the penthouse since you left, barely answers his phone, and when he does, the first word from his mouth is 'William?'."
"Because I was the one to take care of him, and he can't operate on his own?" Will suggested bitterly.
"Damn it Will!" Liev finally snapped. "He loves you. When he found you gone and knew that he was the cause of that…he broke. He hasn't been the same since. We only know he's alive is because we check on him periodically. If you can call that living, sitting alone in a penthouse strumming his guitar."
Even knowing that Jack couldn't really die, the thought of him in such a state did still tug at his heartstrings. Liev could tell of course, by the way Will drew his bottom lip over his teeth, worrying at it unconsciously. "Will you at least think about going to see him? I'm not asking for some big tearful reunion but, I think it'd be good for him and you both; be it for closure or getting back together or whatever. Besides, haven't you been saying this guy you're with now is not good? Maybe your cheating ex is better than the clingy boy toy you've got now?" he proposed.
"You're pretty intuitive for someone I haven't seen in three years," Will retorted.
"Yes well, it's what I'm good at. Can't deny the truth of it."
Unfortunately, Will couldn't deny that there might've been a tiny grain of truth in his words. Liev had always been the more perceptive one, Benny and Dewey, while neither of them were stupid, were just not as in depth, they didn't see into people the way Liev did. It had made keeping the secret of his and Jack's relationship damned hard, and now, to find out it hadn't been a secret from him at all was rather upsetting. "I suppose…I suppose I'll think of going to see him. I make no promises though," he added hastily.
"More than I expected. I thought you'd tell me to fuck off and stop being nosy," Liev snickered. "Anyway, I've got my own boy toy to get back to. And good luck with yours then. Bye Will!" He strolled off, leaving Will to mull over what he'd said.
He was still mulling when he arrived home to find Alain in the kitchen, cooking what smelled to be one delicious stew.
"Will! You're home early," he greeted Will with a peck on the cheek, smoothing down his apron. "How was your day?"
"Fine, fine," Will mumbled absently, toeing off his shoes and setting them by the door. "Ran into an old friend, from that band I used to manage. Liev, who played the keyboard. He and the bassist, Benny, got together shortly after I left, though the band itself crumbled."
Alain nodded sagely, "I imagine it was hard to stay together without you. But their loss is my gain." He winked at Will over his shoulder, turning back to the stew. Will groaned inwardly, watching as Alain tasted the stew, eyes shut rapturously as though it was the best stew in the world, letting out a happy moan. It was a show for his benefit, he knew, and not too long ago, it would have sent him into the kitchen to wrap around Alain before fucking him into the countertop. Now he just wanted to run away from the clingy, possessive man; get as far away as he could, like a tiny speck of an island, just him and sand and nothing to worry about ever again.
"See anyone else today?" His voice drew Will from his thoughts, and he cringed. A casual enough question on the surface; to Will it meant "did you flirt with anyone today? Why didn't you call me? Who talked to you? Why are you home early, are you feeling guilty about something?"
"Nobody special. Just people watched all day, but I was getting a bit hungry. Thought I'd pop home," Will answered automatically.
"You missed me, didn't you? I missed you." Of course he did. He always did.
"Yeah, missed you." Will went to stand in the entryway of the kitchen, arms folded over his chest. It really wasn't fair to Alain, he thought. He did, in some way, love Will, while Will…Will didn't know what he wanted. He didn't love Alain that was for sure, and doubted if he ever had; he reckoned he had probably just been swept of his feet by a moment of chivalry wrapped up in a pretty package. It was, after all was said and done, a rebound relationship that had quickly devolved into something near twisted and completely unhealthy for all involved. It was cruel to Alain to keep him hanging on in such a way, and to make him worry all the time about Will leaving. So Will reflected, and decided it was high time for him to end it. And it had nothing to do with Liev at all. Scout's honor.
"Alain? Can we talk?"
Alain glanced over, "Of course. What about?"
"This…proposal. It's-'' Will started, only to be cut off by Alain.
"Silly Will, I told you not to worry about that. No hurry, we've got the rest of our lives together."
Will sighed heavily, mentally preparing to grab the bull by the horns. "No, we don't actually."
"Excuse me?"
"I've got an answer already, and that answer is no. In fact, actually, I think it would be for the best if we...saw other people."
Alain stood immobile in the kitchen, gaze locked on the wall in front of him. Will could see a muscle going in his cheek, and both his jaw and hands clenching. He slowly turned his head to glower at Will, eyes narrowed to slits. "You think what exactly?" he asked, voice low.
"Break up," Will replied, stepping away from the wall, arms coming to rest at his sides.
"Why, so you can go running back to that Sparrow of yours?"
"No," Will scoffed, and was knocked back a second later, his cheek burning. He stumbled to his feet, tasting blood. Alain had smacked him across the face with the large metal spoon yanked out of the boiling stew. He stood over him, managing to appear menacing despite being in an apron and clutching a spoon.
"Don't lie to me William. I hear you, moaning his name in your sleep. And it's not a sorrowful, I miss you sort of moan either. It's the wanton moan of the well and truly fucked-'' Alain screeched, wiping at his face at the blood Will had spat at him. He lunged, trying to swing at Will again, only to have Will duck under him, snatching the lid of the pot and using it as a shield. "He cheated on you Will! His tomcatting about is what drove you right into my arms! Or have you forgotton?!"
"Yes he cheated, but at least he was a man, not some clingy, sniveling-'' Will paused, panting, his whole arm tingling as the lid was struck repeatedly. "And yes I remember, I did not run into your arms, you held a bloody umbrella over me!"
"And put ice on your ankle!"
"Oh, well, somebody give him a fucking medal, he put ice on a twisted ankle! Would you stop hitting at me with that damned spoon and act rationally for once?!"
Mercifully, the blows stopped falling, and Will peered cautiously from around the lid. "Thank you," he started, but stopped, seeing Alain close to tears. Again, completely unfair. You can't cry when you're arguing with someone. It's automatic that they'll do whatever you want just to make the pain stop.
"Alain, please, don't…"
"How can I not? You want to leave me, would rather have that cheating ex of yours instead of me," Alain sniffed.
"Babe, I never said I was going back to Jack," Will said softly.
"You want to. You love him more than me. You don't want to marry me!"
"Jack has nothing to do with this. I just don't think it's fair to you if I stay here when I don't want to get married, and neither of us is happy. This entire relationship is unhealthy for both of us."
"How?" Oh god, Will hated it when Alain pouted, just like he was doing now.
"Because, you're always afraid I'm going to leave you, afraid I'm hooking up with some other bloke. Which makes you paranoid and nervous and on edge. And that just gets on my nerves, getting the third degree every time I walk through the door. Do you like calling me all the time, or hearing how tired I am of being called?" he said gently. He started to move to touch Alain's shoulder, try and soften the harshness. Alain stiffened, brushing off the contact.
"Just go."
"Alain…"
"I said go! Leave, you wanted to so badly a minute ago! Get out!"
Will jerked back, and with one last look at the slumped over figure of his former boyfriend, packed what few things he wanted and left, catching the first flight back to New York. He didn't tell anyone that he was coming back, didn't want word to get to Jack. Because he had lied, a little bit. He wasn't going back to Jack, but he was going back to see him. He debated for hours on whether or not to go right away, coming up with dozens of excuses. It was too late, he'd wait until tomorrow. No, he wanted to see him now. No, no, it was too soon. And so on, sitting edgily on a park bench in Central Park, one foot jittering. The sun slipped lower down the horizon, and Will, realizing he had no place else to go for the night, made up his mind. He shouldered his bag, and set off down the familiar path to his penthouse.
He didn't use his key, but knocked instead, wanting Jack to answer and see him. He swallowed convulsively, his throat dry and his stomach full of butterflies. He raised his hand to rap again on the door when it opened. Jack, in the split second glance he got of him, looked horrible; eyes sunken in, hair matted, and a general air of "I give up" that Will's heart, in his safe in his bag, pulsed in sympathy. And then Jack was charging forward, pulling back and letting fly, his fist connecting solidly with the same cheek that only hours previous Alain had bruised.
Will yelped and fell back, clutching his cheek and choking back whimpers. Jack stood over him, breathing heavily.
"That's for leaving me," he croaked.
So that's how he wanted to play then. Fine. Will kicked out, foot sweeping Jack and bringing him to his knees. "Then that's for knocking up some groupie bimbo!" Jack recovered quickly, and got to his feet, hauling Will up by the front of his jacket and throwing him into the penthouse and kicking him in the ass.
"That's for the boyfriend, Liev told me about him not long after he left you!"
Will fell onto hands and knees, gasping. He forced himself to stand and turned unsteadily to face Jack. "This is for the drinking, and the drugs, and for us not having sex in years!" He hit Jack solidly in the gut, one time for each transgression. Jack doubled over, bringing Will with him. They landed hard on the floor, battered and struggling to breath. Jack started to laugh, weak chuckles that hurt his ribs and made him fall onto his back. He let out an "oof!" as Will's head hit his ribs, and he drew Jack's arm across him.
"Care to let me in on the joke Jack?"
"You…you hit me b-because we haven't had sex in years!" Jack dissolved into giggles, his free arm clutching his stomach. "All you had to do was ask pet."
"Yes, because that's just what I wanted, to be sloppy seconds," Will said drily. But he didn't get up, though that probably also had to do with the bruises. "You didn't get it Jack. I wanted you all to myself, and I couldn't have that. You refused to tell the bosses that we were exclusively together, and thus had to go out with such-and-such a model, leaving me by the wayside. And then I got fired! I lost my job, all on top of losing you. And not just to the girls, but to the drugs and the drinks." Will forced himself to sit up, looking down at Jack. "You weren't the same Jack I loved anymore; you were some tripping out womanizer, lost in some haze I couldn't pull you out of. All I got in response was 'but we can't die pet, we should live a little' and 'they don't mean anything, you're the one I come home to'. But you came home and ignored me, so you didn't out yourself. I was alone on my side of the bed, which you hardly slept in anymore."
"Why the hell didn't you say something?" Jack demanded, but paused, thinking. Will had, and he'd brushed him off, that was what he was saying. He'd gotten caught up in the fame and the money and this is where it had landed him. He shut his eyes, sighing deeply. "Why're you back then?"
"Because, even with all of that, I still love you, Jackass. We're meant to be or some such rot, according to Liev," Will rolled his eyes. "And Alain was not for me, the clingy git." There, he admitted it. He came back for Jack, like he'd been thinking of doing ever since Tortuga and the barrage of memories. All it had taken was Liev being intuitive and Alain knocking him about with a spoon to get him to own up to it.
"Was he better looking than me?" Jack asked without opening his eyes.
"Oh, he was easy on the eyes, but I'm not a huge fan of blondes. Though he was terribly gallant, holding an umbrella for me, helping me when I twisted my ankle," Will responded lightly.
"I could do that," Jack mumbled.
"But you didn't, and that's what got us here."
"I'm still in the dog house, aren't I?"
"You've been in the dog house so long Jack that you are no longer paying rent but own it, lock, stock, and barrel."
"What'll it take to get out of the dog house? Buying you a puppy?"
"You could buy me every breed of puppy known to man and it would hardly make a dent."
Jack groaned. "I wish we could go back to being pirates. I miss that. No women to beguile me on the ship."
"Too bad Jack. You're stuck here. But, I shall make you a deal. I give you a clean slate, and put you on probation. You take me out for real dates, make it known that we're together and I'll stay here, once you clean up. But if you slip up once, just once, and I hear about or catch you with some tart then I'm gone. And I won't come back. And you've got the rest of eternity by yourself to think on that, that I gave you another chance and you let it pass you by. Do we have an accord?" Will stuck out his hand.
Jack couldn't grasp his hand fast enough, shaking it rapidly until Will, chuckling, pulled back. He let himself be pulled down into Jack's embrace, resting his head on his chest and listening to the thick, sure sound of his heart beat.
"You smell like rum," Will murmured fondly.
"Well, there's little much for me to do on my lonesome pet," Jack said into Will's curls. "'Sides, thought you liked the smell, it was me."
"Wasn't complaining. Just saying, you smell like rum."
"Oh," Jack shifted, squeezing Will briefly. "Didn't you say something about there being a distinct lack of sex in our lives?"
"I did, but I do not put out before a first date, and you have yet to take me on one."
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Very much."
"Fuck. Alright, where would you like to go?"
"Dinner and movie. Nice and traditional. But a good movie, and a nice restaurant."
"Only the best for you William."
"Damn right. You owe me so much. This is only the first step to getting back in my good graces."
Jack did, after an incredibly long time, get back into said good graces. Will forgave him, to a point. He continuously got a kick out of reminding Jack of his wrongdoings, especially in front of his former band mates and Devi. But when it came down to it, he loved Jack and Jack loved him. They had fought skeletal pirates and Krakens and the British navy and the pirate brethren and still come out on top, having each other's backs most of the time. They had achieved immortality for Jack, simply so they could remain together forever. If none of that was enough to tear their relationship asunder, then nothing, not cheating, not drinking, not rebound boyfriends, could do it. Without Will, there was no Jack, and without Jack, no Will. They would forever remain the pirate and his blacksmith.
A/N: Ok, so it did have a happy ending. I apparently can't help it. Subconsciously I want everything to end on even a somewhat good note. Anyways, I hope that satisfied you and I apologize for the length, if it seemed too long. I just couldn't see breaking it into a multi-chapter thing. It was pretty angst riddled, which is what I was aiming for. Hope it wrapped it all up for all of you who wanted to know what happened. Although, if I've got time, and you've got ideas of something that happened to Jack and Will in modern times that you wanna see written, send me a PM and I'll try and make it happen. Ok, insert obligatory begging for reviews here. Kthnxbai^^