Disclaimer: I don't own them. Wish that I did!!!
Author's note: Just so's ye know, in all of my fics, with Jack's help, Will has been released from his duty upon the Flying Dutchman, with certain conditions. He and Elizabeth have joined the crew of the Pearl. I loves me own Pirate world!
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William Turner the Second sat quietly in a chair and watched the incapacitated captain of the mighty Black Pearl sleep upon this afternoon. The sun was shining brightly outside of Jack Sparrow's cabin, but Jack was in no shape to be at his beloved ship's helm, nor was he in any condition to even simply carry on conversation. He'd just had a tooth pulled in a most unpleasant fashion, and after all that they had all been through at World's End, it might have seemed trivial except for the complete misery that Jack was in.
William sighed. It had been an accident... Elizabeth had socked Jack squarely in the jaw, not intentionally, and he had already lost one tooth, and the one that had been the cause of all of Jack's pain upon this day had been broken off, and was starting to abscess. The couple had been present when Mr. Gibbs actually jerked it from Jack's jaw... he was set into a chair, under much protest, with William holding him down from behind, and Elizabeth holding his head still by folding both of her petite hands over his bandana'd forehead, whilst Gibbs put his pliers into Jack's mouth and got a grip. He moved the pliers back and forth, making a sickening cracking sound as the damaged tooth's roots broke free, and with a resounding "pop", the tooth came out. Jack had promptly turned white, and fainted.
Elizabeth hurriedly stuffed a small wad of gauze into the captain's bleeding mouth, and started to cry a little for being the cause. Jack came to consciousness after only a moment or two, but was so woozy and irritable that he was directly taken to his bunk for a few hours. Once Jack was asleep, Elizabeth left William to watch over Jack for a little while, as she went to quietly get some fresh air and compose herself in order to come back and face her guilt once more. She still had deep feelings of regret for many things that she had done to him in the past... Jack had moved beyond it all, and waved this off as a trifle, with flutters of his eloquent hands, but Elizabeth could not wave it off. William smiled... he tended to agree with Jack these days... they'd had so much happen to them that this was really, in the grand scheme of thing, a trifle...
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William found himself in deep thought, as he looked about Jack's cabin. Not so very long ago, all of this would have been completely foriegn to him, as a blacksmith's apprentice. His eyes wandered all about, taking everything in, fully, for the very first time. The cabin was in good order, which, in itself, was odd, considering the mayhem that generally surrounded Captain Jack Sparrow, especially since his rescue from The Locker. The man was not quite right in his head, yet his cabin was as orderly as could be. The desk was as neat as a pin, with every writing instrument in its place, and a neatly capped inkwell. The cabinets were all closed and locked, the built in drawers were all bolted against the rocking of a moving ship, even the Oriental rug upon the floor of the cabin was perfectly centered. Granted, Hector Barbossa had commandeered the Black Pearl in Tortuga, but it had been regained and Jack had certainly had time to mess things up a bit if he had wanted to... William shook his head. Jack was organized. Jack... of all people.
Even the charts that were laid out upon the mahogany table were laid out with great care. The tools of navigation were sitting at the side, lined up perfectly. Suddenly, William became concerned. Was this yet another sign of the madness that Jack had come away from The Locker with? An almost obsessive neatness? To look at the man, himself, one would certainly doubt any notion of neatness! In Jack's own physical appearance, there was always some sort of wonderful orderly disarray. He had expected the same thing of Jack's living quarters... but then, he chuckled to himself, he was doing something that Jack had taught him not to do... he was taking things at face value. He knew that he should never take anything at face value... nor should he take things for granted.
William sighed and shook his head to himself. It was not for him to question. Jack Sparrow had taught him everything that mattered. He had taught him that there is no such thing as completely right, and completely wrong... that there was no black and white, only shades of gray. He had taught him that loyalty and friendship sometimes comes in very, very strange packages.
Most of all, Captain Jack Sparrow had taught him that there was much more to the world than what meets the sensible and forthright eye... and that one sometimes had to look at things through a skewered mind to know that the world was a much stranger place than what was taught by the narrow minds and unadventuresome souls of Port Royal, Jamaica. What did they know?
The jagged scar across William's own chest stood as a testimonial ... the jagged scar that covered the living, beating heart which had been restored to him with the help of this madman, this pirate, snoring in the bunk. The jagged scar that was like a lightning bolt across his own skin would always remind William Turner the Second of the most important lesson that Captain Jack Sparrow had taught him... to never take anything, or anyone, at face value...
...especially his best friend, sleeping off a toothache. Just like the sea, one could never tell what was under the man's surface. Unless, like William, one could finally see under the surface...Jack had always seen under the surface of William Turner the Second, and appreciated what he saw there... At World's End, William had finally swallowed his own blinding pride, and had seen under the surface of Captain Jack Sparrow, and appreciated, also, what he had seen there... he and this man would never take each other at face value... nor would they ever take each other for granted. William was thankful for that.
Jack grunted, and turned over, slowly. He looked at William through bleary eyes, and, rubbing a painful, gauze-stuffed jaw, he sleepily wondered why the hell William was sitting in the chair, looking at him, and smiling like he was.
"...wot ye smilin' at, William?"
"... everything..." was the mysterious, grinning reply. Jack simply nodded, and grinned back at his friend. William learned fast, and learned well... just like his father, he was a good man, good pirate.
"... pour me a wee mug o' painkiller, eh?" Jack chuckled. "... pour one fo' yerself, too. Ye never know when ye might have pain," he said, philosophically, raising a finger for emphasis, "... it's always logical t' stay ahead o' pain... ye never know when ye might be afflicted wif it..."
William liked that logic. It was Jack Sparrow's logic, but like the man, it was not to be taken for granted.
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