Disclaimer: "Pirates of the Caribbean" does not belong to me, and neither do its wide array of characters… except for Jack, whom I have kidnapped and locked in my room and am never letting go. I gave him a replica of the Black Pearl and feed him sometimes. He's happy.
A/N: Well my friend and I saw POTC together and more or less thought up of the same exact plot, but here's my take on it. I hope y'all enjoy! :D Hers, btw, can be found at so enjoy!
A/N3: Well, this chappie was edited to make it actually make SENSE with the layout of the blacksmith shop and for writing. Nothing big, really. Here ya go!
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Captain Jack Sparrow grunted in pain as he stumbled into the blacksmith shop at Port Royal, fairly sure he hadn't been spotted, and, after taking a single step onto the ramp, collapsed to the side, tumbling down a good two to three feet and landing on his side with a grunt. He'd come in the hopes that Will Turner--he would make a fine pirate someday with some help--was still there, and, knowing him as he did, the lad was still there. Hopefully.
"Jack!" The afore-mentioned turned towards the sound, only to see Will running towards him, a hammer still in one hand, and blacksmith's apron around himself, eyeing the wound in Jack's shoulder with dismay. Well, not the wound persay. More like the dirty, soiled cloth wrapped around it, soaked through with blood, and the bloodied dirty hand that kept it in place. Curious, how much blood was there. "Jack, what happened to you?!"
On somewhat different circumstances, one of his trademark witty remarks would have escaped him, but for the moment, that really wasn't going to be an option. Instead, Jack merely looked at Will for a moment, a slightly bemused but forced expression on his face, and followed Will's gaze to his shoulder, then looked back up. "You mean this?"
Will didn't answer, but waited for him to continue.
Jack waved his arm in a gesture that was supposed to be dismissive, but cringed and put it back down, as that was the one with the hurt shoulder. He then opened his mouth to speak. "It's nothin', mate, just a scratch. But I could use some help now, savvy?" Will was about to protest, but thought better of it and attempted to hoist him up. With some effort from the both of them, including a groan from the Captain, Jack was pulled up into a sitting position, and he relaxed against the base of the wall beside the ramp. "Aah, thank you Will. Much obliged. But, I wonder, I'd be mighty grateful for some accommodations right about now."
"Wha-?"
"Ye see, I'd do it myself, but I'm not quite sure I'll be very able to in just a moment…" And with that, the pirate known as Jack Sparrow, scurvy of the Spanish Main, soon, perhaps, to be the entire ocean, captain of the Black Pearl, passed out.