Disclaimer: Not mine, but that never stops pirates, savvy?
Author's note: As always, anyone who reads my fics knows that William has been released from being captain of the Dutchman, with certain conditions, and he and Elizabeth sail with Jack aboard the Pearl. Pirate Cat
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They were in a small, backstreet taverna of a village off of the coast of Greece. It was a tiny town, pirate-friendly, and the sparkling Aegean sea was breathtaking against the startling blue of the sky. The whitewashed stone and clay buildings hung over the bay like as if they simply had evolved over the centuries as part of the rocks, bright and friendly, with blue trimmed roofs and beautiful flowers draping themselves down the cliffs, blowing ever so softly in the breezes.
Captain Jack Sparrow did not wish to be here, no matter how beautiful or pirate-friendly it was... he sat sullenly at a corner table, his back to the wall, his hands twiddling a mug around in circles and stealing furtive glances to his companions upon either side of him. His first mate, William Turner, and his quartermaster second mate, Elizabeth Swann Turner, had themselves firmly planted in chairs to keep Jack from slipping out the door, and hiding among the many alleys and narrow backstreets in order to avoid the coming meeting.
"... it is for your own good, Jack," Elizabeth started, turning and nudging Jack roughly to stop his nervous fidgeting. "... it was requested, and it is about time that you faced him..." Jack growled at her, his lower lip beginning to push out in a childish pout. William turned and leaned into his captain's face, frowning, his brown eyes narrowing, "We didn't come all of this way and ask the protection of Capitaine Chevalle in his Mediterranean waters just to have you hide in a Greek alleyway, Jack..."
William's eyes softened a bit, as Jack turned his head to avoid looking at anyone... Elizabeth reached an arm around and patted Jack's shoulder, as William continued, sympathetically,"... we both know it's very hard for you, mate... but he asked to see you... it will be alright..."
Just then, an imposing figure blocked the light from the doorway, with a natural swaying to his walk, a large brimmed hat upon his dreadlocked head. The silver trinkets in his hair clinked against each other... not in a pleasant, jingling fashion like Jack's would, but almost brittle... like broken pieces of sharp glass. The young Turners looked up, then stood up in respect... as Jack remained seated, not looking up in order that the others might see the flicker of fear in his dark eyes.
The shadow walked across the quiet little taverna, then stopped directly in front of them. Nodding to the taverna keeper, he indicated that a bottle of wine and mugs should be brought to the table. Dragging a chair over, the figure silently nodded in greeting to William and Elizabeth, then motioned for all to sit down. The Turners sat even closer to their best friend, who still refused to look up.
As the figure leaned into the sunlight that was streaming in from the open window next to them, the creased face that took on a look of the craggy cliffs, outside, came to light, with glittering black eyes and a dark frown. In a voice like low Irish thunder, he spoke.
"... look at me, boy... " and as Jack Sparrow's eyes turned upward to take in the most frightening man that he had ever known, the man's face softened ever so slightly, and his voice said, "... why didn't ye tell me th' things that I had t' hear from others? I know that I have never been a father to ye... but why didn't ye tell me at Shipwreck City?"
Jack finally found his voice, with a nudge from William, and said, almost carelessly, "Tell ye wot?"
As he finally poured wine for all of those present at the table, Captain Teague let the silence creep over them for a moment, then said, softly, "That ye'd been in th' Locker..."
Jack's eyes lowered again. The memories of the dreaded Locker suddenly broke loose behind those dark eyes like a flood... and he felt his small amount of self assuredness start to melt away like butter... oh god, not in front of Teague!!! Nonono. He can't know how bad it was... control... control... Elizabeth slipped her hand around Jack's waist in a way the Teague could not see, to help him keep control of his fleeting, flickering sanity. William's eyes quietly stared into Teague's as he saw an almost fatherly light start to burn a bit in the black, inky depths.
"... I know that I abandoned ye, Jack... but it was for th' best... I loved yer mother, but ye have t' know..." Teague was obviously not accustomed to speaking at all, let alone to crack open his heart to the son that he had barely known. It was time that the boy knew.
Jack swallowed hard and struggled to look up at his father. He was finally able to put together another string of words that resembled a sentence, "... so wot is it tha' ye seem t' be wanting t' tell me, then?" His control was returning with his friends' strength, and his face took on a slight look of curiosity. Teague nodded slightly to the mug in Jack's slender hands, and dutifully, his son took a drink of the warm Greek wine...
"... Jack... son..." Teague paused, again. He removed his hat and laid it on the table next to him. This was unprecedented... almost a sign of respect to the fact that his son and his young best friends had traveled all the way from the Caribbean to meet with him. "... I owe it t' ye... in case anything should happen t' either one of us, again, I owe it t' ye...
He stared directly into Jack's eyes and finally started in, "... ye're just like yer mother... she was a free spirit. Beautiful... wild... " his eyes took on a faraway look as he repeated, "... ye're just like her... an' I loved her with all o' me heart...
Jack's eyes widened like dark full moons. He had never expected that. Teague continued.
"... she was like th' night sky... sparkling an' dark... she was only 16 when we met... I was 22... I had me own ship by then, an' she ran away from her tribe t' travel with me... we were both Irish, o' course, but she was th' most gorgeous gypsy lass I had ever seen in me life... I was completely besotted with her."
"I know wot she looked like..." Jack's eyes had narrowed, by now, and there was bitterness creeping into his soft voice. William nudged him, softly.
Teague had expected this. "... ye're wonderin' why I left th' two o' ye in Ireland after ye were born." Jack greeted this with angry silence.
Teague looked at all of them, then finally said the words that he had never spoken to anyone in over 30 years. "I loved Magdalena Sparrow... but she didn't love me."
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As this revelation sank in with Jack Sparrow, his two young friends on either side of him studied him with veiled concern. Jack's eyes went from astonishment, to vagueness, and back to astonishment. He looked back up at his father, who was staring at him with those burning eyes, his face not changing expression. He spoke again. "... but I thought her tribe left her behind because..."
Teague stopped him. "Jack, do ye ever remember Maggie sayin' anythin' at all about lovin' me? I sent swag to th' two o' ye now an' then, but she made it plain when I left th' two o' ye in Connemara tha' she didn't want me around ye ... I offered t' marry her, but she refused... I knew ye'd have enough t' bear with bein' a bastard child... th' spawn of a gypsy an' a pirate captain, an' I wanted t' be there for ye, but she didn't love me... Maggie was young an' brash enough t' not marry, even if it was t' give you my name...she wanted her own freedom an' no part o' me... she was stubborn an' wild an' ever so beautiful... "
Jack finally had heard enough and his hands flew up angrily, "... where were ye after she died, eh? Where were ye when I needed ye?" William and Elizabeth both moved in even closer to him as he took a deep breath, and stopped. Regaining his composure, he asked, plaintively, "Why didn't ye give me a chance even after she was gone... t' be your son?"
As he met his father's sad gaze, Jack's own face began to fill with unaccustomed emotion, his hands finally gripping the mug of wine in front of him, a tremble starting to make it's way from his very boots.
Teague answered, quietly, "... I didn't let ye get close t' me for th' same reason tha' ye never let anyone close t' you, Jackie... I loved freedom, just like you an' yer mother... an' I feared th' rejection from my own son, simply because he was just like his mother, an' I couldn't bear to have my heart broken like that, twice... Just like you, I can be selfish with my love... but it doesn't mean tha' I didn't want ye... it doesn't mean tha' I didn't love ye... I just thought it was better th' way tha' it was, an' I stayed away from ye... an' now I am admittin' to ye tha' maybe I was wrong."
A stunned silence fell over the group like a dark cloud. Never in his lifetime had Jack Sparrow ever expected to hear any of this. He could barely wrap his mind around the thought that perhaps... just perhaps... his father was admitting that he loved him? And had wanted him? And that his mother had not been a perfect saint, after all... he, himself, had been the final product of a fleeting affair that was never meant to last.. his mother did not love his father, yet his father did love them... and that they were all imperfectly human... his mother had struggled in poverty, but because of her own pride, not his father's callousness.
As he finally tore his staring eyes away from Teague for a moment, he was finally conscious of William and Elizabeth's arms around his shoulders... and conscious of the hot tears that were streaming down his dark face, right in front of this man that he had been afraid of all of his life. Suddenly it was as though his own tears were washing away years of bitterness... he felt as if his deepest soul had been emptied and was being filled up, again. He took a long, deep drink of the red wine, and it tasted sweet.
Captain Teague drank the last of his own wine, stood up, and finally said, "There ye go. I've said it. Ye know th' truth, now, Jackie."
He slowly moved to place his hat back upon his own bandana'd head, and turned to leave. He paused, and took another long look at the trio in front of him... he was glad that his son had the young Turners to look after him, as it was plain, he noted with a painful turn of his heart in his chest, that Jackie was just like his mother in that he was not all there, at all... wild, unhinged gypsy boy... and he was worse since the Locker.
Respectfully, the younger trio stood as Captain Teague, again, turned to the doorway of the taverna, to head for The Star of Madagascar... the very ship upon which his son had been born all of those years ago. He paused at the door, almost hopefully, and heard a pair of booted feet finally uproot themselves from the floor that they had seemingly attached themselves to. He heard a quiet, slurred voice with the hint of an Irish brogue like his own, say, "I should like t' think that perhaps we might see each other again... " a pause, "... I know where t' find ye, in Madagascar... if tha's alright... we need t' parlay..."
"I'd like that," was the reply. "Come an' see yer old man." Teague turned to his slight, slender son. His son, who was a hero among pirates... the best pirate who had ever lived... and Teague did something that he had never done in Jack's life. He put his arms around his son, and embraced him, hard... Jack hesitantly reached out, and then also embraced his father back... hard... thirty years' worth.
And like a dark, brooding ghost, Teague was out the door, and gone.
As William and Elizabeth joined their captain at the doorway of the small Greek taverna, they pressed another mug of wine into his quieted hands, and they all watched Teague's back as he made his way down to the bay below them... and they all raised their mugs to their lips in a very small toast to the fact that Jack Sparrow had agreed to finally meet with his father... and had accepted his father's words to ponder...
...and had been given the opportune moment to know the complete truth from his father's own heart, and to know that he had been loved, from a distance, all along.
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