Title: All Around

Part 1: Giselle

Author: WickedRum

Disclaimers: I wish I could own them all. (Disney)

Genre: Angst, sub-genre: Hurt/Comfort

Universe: post AWE, spoilers accordingly.

Pairing: Jack/Giselle for this part only.

Summary: Barbossa wants Jack out of the equation in the quest for the fountain of youth. So will Giselle help reaching Elizabeth?

Note: this too, is a rewrite of one of my old fics.

Motto:

"Use your mouth only to kiss my lips

We are branches of the same old tree

You can laugh only if you laugh at me"

'Rules' - Shakira

Jack followed Barbossa on the winding back streets of Tortuga. It was easy, too easy maybe.

After a few right and left turns at moderate speed Jack started to convince himself Barbossa was leading him somewhere. It could be a trap, but he couldn't afford to loose the trace again. He had followed him all the way from the Atlantic and if his compass said the charts were here the charts were here.

Be cautious, he reminded himself when he could hear the footsteps no more. The path led nowhere, they were out of town and arriving to the edge of the bushes. He could see the older pirate no more, so he inched forward drawing his cutlass and tensed for battle. And then he saw him.

Hector was standing by a nearby tree, just a couple of steps away, eyes shut and chanting, with both his hands pointing towards Jack with some kind of green suspicious nick nack in them, but as if dismissing his presence. He appeared to have no weapons on him and was completely in trance. It was so clearly a classical magic stance that Jack stepped back. He had enough of curses for a lifetime, not that you could run away from them if they were cast upon you.

Jack thought about what he should do next for a second, but before he could decide on acting, his ex first mate came at him suddenly, slammed his left fist into Jack's gut so hard that he dropped his cutlass. Barbossa then grabbed him, turned him around and threw him backwards into the three trunk.

Jack rolled to his feet, he was not giving up that easy. Strikes, stabs, anything and everything he tried the other pirate shrugged off like nothing.

The scrap lasted less than a minute, and Barbossa landed a single kick that knocked Jack's ribs out of place and bruised his stomach. He fell backwards on his back on the ground as a creeping numbness invaded his abdomen from the damage outwards. He lowered his otherwise clenched fists to his belly. Not that it helped any. People always fell into the mistake of assuming it didn't hurt as much just because he wasn't one for showing it. But he was one with the pain, every second hurt as if a sword had been put though him over and over again. He struggled to concentrate, he had to stand up before the next wave of punches hit him. He lowered his elbow to the ground to support himself on it and turned to his side. His upper stomach sent excruciating pain cursing through his whole chest and he momentarily gave into it, face falling on the ground. If he had had any dinner, he would've got rid of it by now. But he hadn't. Only rum and that had already went to his head. Would he had been able to defend himself more if he didn't cloud his judgment by drinking? It didn't make sense, other times that didn't matter for him. Was he getting older?

Barbossa should've attacked by now, he realized. Jack raised his head just on inch.

Some rain drops dripping off the leaves, bugs crawling, leaves traveling down in the rivulet down the hill. No feet to be seen. The current captain of the Pearl just left him lying there. All right, Hector wasn't too much for unnecessary fights either, but other times Jack would've had no problems dealing with him. But here he was, lying on the ground with no energy to stand up. His mouth started to fill with the metallic taste. And it was coming from down, inside. His own blood. He swallowed it back down at first, but it soon became too hazy and the world descended into proper darkness.

It was his taste buds that awakened him as well. This time it was different and it only took him the fraction of a second to figure out that it was rum. Definitely first class and sweet. Straight from the bottle. And refreshing. VERY refreshing. The flow of rum in his mouth, along his tongue and down his throat. Just heaven, without explanations. It's probably not THE heaven he actually imagined for himself once he got hold of the fountain of youth, but sometimes it would be part of it.

A considerable amount of the fluid went down his throat though before he cared to look where it came from. It was just too good a treat and he was just too tired. By the time reason finally crept into his mind, the manna stopped as well.

A cloth was wiping his face clean from the mess. Correction, it felt more like a tongue. He opened his eyes and turned them towards the source, which stopped the licking and stroked his forehead smiling.

"Jack," she said tenderly.

Jack's pupils widened, half waiting for the inevitable, "what...no slapping the face?" Giselle's presence lately immediately led to that event.

Giselle laughed. "You know how I'm such a fool for the weak and needy?"

Jack shook his head, talking required too much effort as he just previously found out. Instead, he attempted looking around, with the same results. His glance caught several candles all around that could still only provide a dim light given it was the middle of the night. He was lying on a bed, and next to it there a pot with water. His lips were dry and his long experience with wounds told him they were so dry because it was water he needed, not rum these times. His thirst couldn't be clenched with anything else. A deepening coldness stretched itself in his chest and a pained, shocked expression took over his figures.

Giselle turned for the water, understanding what he wanted. She almost looked away while Jack struggled to lift his head, she didn't want to see how he suffered. She loved him, she always did. She knew he wasn't the settling type, at least not with her, but did he not forgive him over and over again after a few slaps here and there? She waited for him to come back, stayed in Tortuga despite several offers from sailors and pirates from all over the world who were enamored by her charms. But no matter how much it hurt, no matter how much Jack had hurt her, she stayed. Watching him have his way with her best friend, for example. She blanked it out as if it has never happened and didn't talk about it because nobody would've understood the love she felt for her Jack. Not because whores were not supposed to love, but because whores were not worthy of love. Not in the proper sense of the word anyway. They could be the object of an act out of passion, urged by the basic instincts of animals living in hoards and in pairs. It became an obsession for her, that Jack of hers. When he was in port, she followed him everywhere in secret. Her only love and no one else would do. He was special, gifted, strong, and powerful. She missed him so much, she was ready for compromises as long as nobody else would have to find out. If she couldn't have Jack all the time, Jack sometimes was the closest she could get. She would do anything for him. Well, almost anything.

Jack winced and tried to look in the direction of his stomach. Although his head was propped up on a couple of pillows, he didn't quite manage to focus enough to be able to see, images became even the more blurry with the effort.

"All I can see is a hell of a lot of bruises under the skin," she came to his rescue, "but I didn't notice any bleeding. That should be good, right?"

Jack shook his head, "black magic, I thin..." Speaking became impossible as the small movement reinstated all the hurting that subsided with sleep. He groaned and clenched both palms over the leisured area.

Giselle stared in confusion, "Jackie?"

"Huurts...so...much," the words ended with total darkness again.

Tbc