To Lose A Pirate

Disclaimer: all characters are Disney's, not mine, and ergo I make no money from this.

A/N: 'Twould appear that I am incapable of writing a PotC fic that does not have liberal quantities of Will angst.

A/N 2: I have come to the conclusion that I have been reading entirely too many Jack/Will slash fics. This is the first slash fic that I have posted. Anyone who wishes to flame me will not merit a response. You have been warned here so do not complain afterwards. Besides which, it is little more than suggested/implied. I do not write anything explicitly sexual.

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Chapter 1: Gilette's Victory

"We have him in the cells." Lieutenant Gilette's face bore a smug, triumphant expression.

"Have who?" Commodore James Norrington looked up from the report he was writing. Will and Elizabeth Turner, also present, exchanged anxious looks as they recognised the expression on Gilette's face.

Gilette's face broke into an ecstatic grin. "Jack Sparrow, sir."

"I see." Norrington's face was impassive. "Where exactly is he?"

Gilette retained his triumphant smile. "In the cells not built by Turner, sir." He pointedly looked over at skilled blacksmith Will.

"I shall pay him a visit later. His hanging shall be held as soon as I can arrange it. Thank you, Gilette." When Gilette made no move to leave, Norrington nodded at the door, his voice hardening with impatience. "Thank you, Gilette."

Gilette caught on and hurriedly departed. Norrington faced the Turners, his face taking on an apologetic expression. "I am sorry, but the law dictates that this is the course I must take."

"I know." Elizabeth's voice was tinged with sadness.

"Can – can we see him?" asked Will, a hint of desperation in his voice, dark eyes earnestly pleading with Norrington.

"Of course. I shall go down this evening. His hanging will be arranged for the day after tomorrow. That should give me enough time to do all the necessary work – and for you to see him."

Elizabeth stepped forward. "Thank you, James."

"I am sorry."

Will turned to go, the ultimate image of dejection; shoulders slumped, head hung low, eyes fixed on the floor. Elizabeth took his rough hand in hers and gently led him out of the room. They headed home, in silence on Will's part. Several times Elizabeth attempted to begin a conversation, but elicited no response from her husband. Eventually she gave up, but vowed to herself to keep a close eye on Will. Life had not treated him well, and he had lost most that he really cared about. Sometimes his bitterness and cynicism surprised and worried her. Losing Jack would be a bitter blow indeed. They both knew that there would be no heroic rescues this time. Jack would be too closely guarded in his cell, and she and Will would be carefully restrained should they attend the hanging. The end had finally come for Captain Jack Sparrow

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"Visitors for you, Sparrow." Gilette was curt, irritated. He turned to the guards. "I shall have you hanged yourselves if you allow anything undesirable to happen." That said, he departed.

"Savvy?" put in the prisoner with a cheeky smirk. But his tone also bore hints of resignation and weariness. The pirate captain knew his fate.

The guard stepped forward and raised his weapon threateningly. Jack Sparrow raised his sun-browned hands in mocking surrender, backing off with his usual swaying gait. The weapon was lowered, though still aimed in Jack's direction.

Will and Elizabeth emerged from the stone steps that descended into the dungeons where the cells were. Jack blinked, then assumed his most confident pose, a cocky grin on his sun-darkened face. Yet despite this outward image of what some would call arrogance, there was an air of defeat about the pirate that was wholly unfamiliar to his character, a hint of despair about his dark eyes.

"Hello, Jack," said Elizabeth by way of greeting. She was a little awkward; after all, what did one say to a condemned man?

"Ah, we're reacquaintin' ourselves with each other, are we, Miss Swann?" Jack grinned at her, holding out his hand to her through the iron barrier that separated them.

"It's Mrs. Turner now, Jack," Elizabeth informed him, a smile on her face as she glanced over to where Will stood. She faltered as she saw exactly how unhappy and despairing her husband was. His dark eyes met hers for the briefest of moments, full of pain and grief – and what, strangely, appeared to be shame – before he turned his head away, face tinged with pink. Elizabeth was confused; although Will showed his emotions easily around her, he had never seemed ashamed of doing so before.

Jack nodded thoughtfully. "Somehow I thought it might be that by now. I believe congratulations are in order."

"Thank you," replied Elizabeth softly. "Jack – thank you. For what you did to save me, with Barbossa."

Jack shook his head, holding up a hand. "Don't yeh go thinkin' I did it for you, Elizabeth. I wanted me ship back, and if I saved you in the process, that was just an added benefit. It wasn't in me plan. Savvy?"

Elizabeth nodded, a sad smile on her face. "I know. I just – I wish it didn't have to end this way."

Jack's face reflected her expression, his eyes tinged with some sad emotion that Elizabeth was unable to identify. "Me too, love. But I'm a pirate; it goes with the territory. I squared with that a long time ago." He frowned, contemplation evident on his face. "Tell me one thing, though."

"What?"

He leaned in close to her and dropped his rough voice to a whisper, a strange glint in his eyes. "I never did understand why you burned all the rum." He winked at her, gold teeth glittering in the flickering torchlight, and withdrew.

Elizabeth stared at him in disbelief. "Jack Sparrow! You know perfectly well why I burned the rum! One, it is a vile drink that –"

"Yes, yes, yes!" Jack cut her off before she could start up on the anti-rum rant – again. He had had quite enough of it post-rum burning on that bloody island. "I was teasin' yeh."

Elizabeth stopped in her tracks. "Oh."

Jack smirked. "Elizabeth?"

"Yes?"

He fixed her with an earnest gaze. "Look after William for me."

Elizabeth frowned in confusion. "I'm his wife; why wouldn't I?"

"Just promise me that."

Sighing, and not really understanding, Elizabeth nonetheless nodded. "I promise, Jack."

"Good."

"I'll miss you."

Jack did not respond, instead nodding to Will. "I want to talk to William."

"Goodbye, Jack." Elizabeth turned to her husband and gently urged him over to Jack. "I'll see you at home," she said, sensing the need for pirate and blacksmith to have some time alone. She turned back only once before she left.

Will had stepped close to Jack, fighting back tears. He had promised himself that he would not allow his emotions to take over, but already he was perilously close to it happening.

Jack saw the unshed tears glistening in Will's eyes, the pain in those dark brown depths, and he felt tears rising inside himself. "William," he began hesitantly.

Will raised his head to look at Jack properly. "What?"

Jack swallowed hard and had to fight to keep the tears from his voice. "Thanks, mate."

A (somewhat familiar to Jack) look of confusion crossed the blacksmith's face. "For – for what?"

Jack gestured vaguely from side to side with his head. "This 'n' that. Helpin' me get me Pearl back. An' – an' everything." He grinned in his usual cocky manner, unable to resist adding his trademark, "Savvy?" although this was a rather tremulous one.

The last word was too much for Will and he choked on a sob, the tears spilling over and cascading down his cheeks. "Jack – I – I…"

Jack reached out and placed a rough, ring-adorned finger over Will's lips. "Enough o' that, William. Carry on like that and yeh'll make me cry as well." His voice was softly, kindly teasing.

Will sniffled, attempting to wipe away the tears to no avail. "But – but you're going to die tomorrow…I – I should do something, get you out of here…" He broke off as Jack shook his head. "Jack? Why not? What's wrong?"

"Nothin's wrong, mate," replied Jack. His face took on a more serious, earnest expression. "William, I need you to understand this. I've made my peace. I know I'm goin' to die tomorrow mornin' and I'm ready for it. Occupational hazard of bein' a pirate. I'm ready for this." His voice took on a stern, yet still gentle, tone. "I don't want you to do anythin'. Hear me?"

Will's face clearly reflected his bewilderment. "Why, Jack? Why give up like this?"

"Because I would rather let Norrington over anyone else have the pleasure of seein' me hang. We've reached an understandin', him an' me. I don't want anyone else to oversee me death. Strange as it may sound, I trust him." He smiled wryly at Will's confusion. "Trust me, William. Just let me go."

"But Jack –"

"Enough, William. That's enough."

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Elizabeth and Will did not speak for the rest of the day. Both were too lost in memories of Jack. Memories of a friend. Elizabeth let Will be, yet still kept an eye on him from a distance. Tomorrow would be the biggest test.

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It was just like the occasion of Jack's hanging-that-never-was. The crowds of people there for a morning's entertainment, the military men startlingly obvious in their red tunics (Murtogg and Mullroy were around somewhere), the upper class, the Governor, Gilette, Norrington, Elizabeth and Will. The same man reading out from a (long) scroll the list of Jack's crimes. Even what appeared to be the same hangman (although whether or not it was the same man was difficult to ascertain).

Will was fighting back the tears this time, not slipping in amongst the crowds. Jack had reiterated that he was ready to die, that he wanted no rescuing. It hurt far more than Will had imagined was possible. He swallowed hard and a moment later felt Elizabeth discreetly slip her hand into his and give it a gentle, comforting squeeze.

The crowd fell silent; all crimes and the sentence had been delivered to them.

The noose was placed around Jack's neck.

It was tightened.

Jack raised his head and met Will's eyes. His gaze, conveying every emotion towards the young blacksmith that he had ever felt, never faltered.

The hangman pulled the trapdoor lever.

Jack dropped.

He hung there like a puppet with all save the head string cut. The crowd cheered.

Will turned from the sight, unable to bear it any longer, and, tearing his hand from his wife's, stumbled down the steps, away from everyone. The tears were falling thick and fast now, and he knew not where he hurried, running blindly. All he knew was that he had to get away from there, away from what was no longer Jack. Away from the ones who had sentenced him and brought this fate upon him.

"Will! Will!" Elizabeth was hot on his heels, running as fast as her high-heeled slippers and long dress would permit (she refused to wear a corset after her marriage to Will). Her voice rose to an almost-shriek. "William Turner!"

Will stopped in the middle of the empty street, swiping frantically – and uselessly – at his eyes before turning to face his wife. "What?"

Elizabeth caught up with him, breath coming in short gasps now from the running. "You left…without me."

"I needed to get away."

"Where did you…plan to…run to?"

Will shrugged, meeting her eyes, his expression one of despair and helplessness. "I don't know. Away…away from everything at the fort." He bit his lip hard.

Elizabeth stepped forward and drew him into a tight embrace, easing his head down to rest on her shoulder, knowing instinctively that he did not want any others to see the tears he was unable to hold back. She felt his body shaking with the sobs and gently rocked him from side to side, making soothing noises, knowing that this was what he needed. Words were pointless at this moment; it was the love and comfort that he needed and that she could give.

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TBC