Title: The Past Never Let's Go.
Summary: The past never truly dies, it's always there. The sequel to "The Rewrite" but if you haven't read it you don't really need too.
Chapter 1/?: A Bad Dream
Writer: Azure K Mello
Distribution: ask.
For pervious parts: or at ff.net:
Rating: R for now. I've never written NC17 before but I might go for it later.
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"Ye bastard!! Bring me back my fecking ship ye treacherous, mutinous, bastard!! I will kill ye, dog! I will have my revenge! I will make ye pay!" Said Jack as he watched his beautiful ship glide away. He watched as that rat felt her helm. He could taste blood and fire in the back of his throat as he plan his retribution. He felt himself being shaken and could not find the source of the movement. There was no liquor in his system, unfortunately. There was no cause, therefore, for him to be hallucinating. And then the shacking was accompanied with a voice.
"Jack, wakeup. Stop screaming, you're dreaming. It's a dream. I can't sleep with you making that racket!!"
Slowly opening his eyes the island vanished and the daylight became black as night, it was night. "Will? Will love, is that ye?"
"Aye, Jack, it's me." The boy's voice was quiet and soothing.
"The bastard took my ship! He took it, Will. He took her from me. My Pearl, my goddess." He started to cry. Now that he was awake there was a fair, healthy amount of alcohol in his mind allowing for it to function properly.
"Shhh," the boy hushed him. After three months on the Pearl he was accustomed to easing the fears of her captain. "Feel that rocking? Hear those noises? Listen to her, Jack, she's talking to you. You're with her, you got her back, you killed Barbossa. All's well. You're safe and so is she."
"Me lad, we're never safe," said the captain softly. Gently he rubbed his thumb over the recently branded wrist of his lover. There marring Will's pale skin was a the capital letter p. It stood out as a emblem of everything the boy had given up for him. He didn't like it. He didn't like having Will in danger. He had already lost one Turner to Piracy, Jack would go mad if he lost this boy. Becoming even more crazy than he was now, more mad even than he had been with pain of losing Will's father. "We're never safe."
Shuddering at the sentiment Will tried to cover his unease, "Hey, you're Captain Jack Sparrows, Nothing can touch you."
Summary: The past never truly dies, it's always there. The sequel to "The Rewrite" but if you haven't read it you don't really need too.
Chapter 1/?: A Bad Dream
Writer: Azure K Mello
Distribution: ask.
For pervious parts: or at ff.net:
Rating: R for now. I've never written NC17 before but I might go for it later.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Ye bastard!! Bring me back my fecking ship ye treacherous, mutinous, bastard!! I will kill ye, dog! I will have my revenge! I will make ye pay!" Said Jack as he watched his beautiful ship glide away. He watched as that rat felt her helm. He could taste blood and fire in the back of his throat as he plan his retribution. He felt himself being shaken and could not find the source of the movement. There was no liquor in his system, unfortunately. There was no cause, therefore, for him to be hallucinating. And then the shacking was accompanied with a voice.
"Jack, wakeup. Stop screaming, you're dreaming. It's a dream. I can't sleep with you making that racket!!"
Slowly opening his eyes the island vanished and the daylight became black as night, it was night. "Will? Will love, is that ye?"
"Aye, Jack, it's me." The boy's voice was quiet and soothing.
"The bastard took my ship! He took it, Will. He took her from me. My Pearl, my goddess." He started to cry. Now that he was awake there was a fair, healthy amount of alcohol in his mind allowing for it to function properly.
"Shhh," the boy hushed him. After three months on the Pearl he was accustomed to easing the fears of her captain. "Feel that rocking? Hear those noises? Listen to her, Jack, she's talking to you. You're with her, you got her back, you killed Barbossa. All's well. You're safe and so is she."
"Me lad, we're never safe," said the captain softly. Gently he rubbed his thumb over the recently branded wrist of his lover. There marring Will's pale skin was a the capital letter p. It stood out as a emblem of everything the boy had given up for him. He didn't like it. He didn't like having Will in danger. He had already lost one Turner to Piracy, Jack would go mad if he lost this boy. Becoming even more crazy than he was now, more mad even than he had been with pain of losing Will's father. "We're never safe."
Shuddering at the sentiment Will tried to cover his unease, "Hey, you're Captain Jack Sparrows, Nothing can touch you."