A/N: I thought I should give some background on this story just so it makes some sense. I decided to have Will be Will Swann, son of the governor, and Elizabeth really be Elizabeth Turner, daughter of Bootstrap and carrier of the blood needed by the crew of the Black Pearl. Therefore, they captured the right person when they took her aboard the ship the first time. Will still decided to go after her, not necessarily out of love but more because he felt it was the right thing to do. However, due to confusion and Will lying to be noble and save Elizabeth, they ended up with him captured eventually, but know they need her back, which is where this starts off. Will still sailed with Jack, so they know each other. Basically I'm leaving the background vague on purpose, you decide what happened.
Warning: This is slash. If you don't like slash or it offends you, the little 'X' at the top right corner of your screen is for you.
Rating: PG-13 just in case, and I guess because it's slash. Nothing very graphic though.
Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl and all its characters and storylines belong exclusively to Walt Disney Company, Gore Verbinsky, and Jeffrey Bruckheimer. I only wish I had my own Jack and Will.
"She's a spittin' image of ol' Bootstrap Bill, come back to haunt us!!"
Barbossa growled at his crew to be quiet, turning one murky eye to the crazed girl pointing a gun to her own head. "Very well miss, name yer terms."
Elizabeth nodded wildly at Will. "He goes free," she nearly screeched, for the second or third time. She was desperate, and quickly losing all hope. Will had risked so much for her, it was only right to return the favor.
Barbossa merely rolled his eyes, sighing with sarcasm. "Well yes, we know that one."
Elizabeth searched frantically for some other leverage, something else she could gain against this man so evil Hell itself spit him back out. "And the crew…the crew are not to be harmed."
The rest of the scene happened in a rush, the next thing anyone was aware of was that Elizabeth had been bound and gagged by several grimy pirate hands, Will was being forced to walk the plank, and Jack was next in line.
Will thought of nothing as he forcefully threw himself into the water, just to show these pirates that he still had some control over his fate. He only vaguely heard another splash as Jack followed him. Will was already propelling himself towards the island, away from that awful ship. He did not want to think on it. He did not want to think on Elizabeth. He had tried – he had tried so hard to save her. And yet it had come to no avail. Will imagined that the girl had been slightly in love with him, and yet he paid her back by watching her fall prey to brutal barbarians. He thought himself cold-hearted indeed. But what with being the governor's son and all, he had never been allowed time for petty things like love. He didn't really know what love was and didn't expect he ever would, as he would inevitably be forced into an arranged marriage with a noble lady he cared little about. Yet at times…there had been an odd feeling inside of Will, and he had wondered what it was.
The next time Will thrust his hand above the water, he was met with glaring white Caribbean sand. He violently coughed out disgustingly salty water as he dragged himself up on shore, shivering from the intensity of the heat and the sand sticking to him. He lay sputtering helplessly for a few moments, until he felt strong hands pull him to his knees. "Sand is not a good choice for food on a deserted island, lad," Captain Jack Sparrow said to him quite seriously, actually worrying over Will's condition.
Will just let Jack hold him there for a moment before shakily standing up. He was already beginning to feel it – the desolation, the loss of all hope. All he could see around him was water, and he and Jack were stuck in the middle of it with no way home. "Jack?" he asked meekly.
Jack turned to grasp Will's shoulders, and answered the unasked question. "Yes, I've done this before, mate. That's the second time I've had to watch that man sail away with my ship. The thing you must remember, young William, is that while a ship is freedom, land is a prison. The sea lies all around us, taunting us with its call, but you mustn't give in. You must fight. You must hold onto hope, savvy?"
Will vaguely wondered where all of that had come from. The idea of Captain Jack Sparrow as a motivational speaker had never crossed his mind. And yet as the heat bore down on him and the sun blinded him, he began to find himself trusting Jack, perhaps for the first time ever. He had always felt a strange allure to the wild captain, but had written it off as being the sheltered son of a governor all his life. But now as he watched Jack pace and jump on the sand somewhat maniacally, long hair flying around his face and shirt waving in the breeze, he realized that perhaps it was something else. Before he let his thoughts turn there however, Will broke himself from his reverie and finally came to his senses enough to wonder what the subject of his scrutiny was doing, exactly. "Well, how did you get off last time?" he asked.
"Last time, my boy? Did I not tell you?" asked Jack, grinning sarcastically while he opened a hole in the ground.
"You cannot possibly expect me to believe that story, Jack. 'Roped a couple of sea turtles.' Right. And what in God's name is down there?"
"This, dear William, is how we will survive in this God forsaken wasteland," slurred Jack, swigging rum from one of the multiple bottles he was now holding. "Welcome to the Caribbean, mate."
Will only gave him a quizzical look, apprehensively glancing at the bottles. Jack sighed. "Right. Last time, my dear boy, I was here for a grand total of three days. The rum runners used this island as a cache, and I managed to barter passage off with one o' them. By the looks of things, they haven't been back since."
"Three days, Jack?" Will asked dejectedly. Elizabeth Turner was doomed now, thanks to him. And here he was, stuck with a bloody awful pirate on an island in the middle of nowhere, and the British Royal Navy was most likely doing nothing about it.
"Save the long face, Mr. Swann. Won't do you no good out here," Jack said, thrusting a bottle towards Will. "Bottoms up, love."
Will raised an eyebrow at the nickname before downing the entire bottle. If he was going to die here with Jack, he would at least show the pirate he could hold his alcohol. So he kept it up, staring down Jack for hours as if challenging him. Challenging him to do what, Will wasn't sure. But it was as if he was asking a silent question. Neither man noticed as the sky darkened and a hot Caribbean day turned into a cool, pleasant Caribbean night. Pleasant perhaps to all who were not them. Jack, however, seemed to be enjoying himself.
"We're rascals, scoundrels, villains and knaves, drink up me hearties, yo ho! REALLY BAD EGGS!" he finished in a shout, before grasping Will's hands and pulling him up to meet him. "You absolutely cannot just sit there and leave me to dance along, boy!" coaxed Jack, clearly quite drunk.
Will found himself giving into Jack's pleading, despite his better judgment. He let the captain whirl him around, not caring that the rum blurred his vision, yet merely losing himself in sensations. "We're devils and black sheep, REALLY BAD EGGS… drink up me 'hearties, yo ho!" Will nearly hiccupped, before collapsing almost on to pof Jack on the sand.
Will let his head fall to Jack's shoulder. He was laughing playfully, still holding the rum. Yet somewhere in the back of his mind he was still thinking clearly, knowing that this was all madness. He stared out to sea for a few moments, feeling Jack's chest rumble when at last he spoke. "Y'know Will, for a man who claims to hate pirates, you're well on your way to becoming one. You're quite clearly drunk off your arse, mate."
"Same might be said of you," Will fired back, shooting a mocking glare up into Jack's eyes. He shifted his weight to his other side, all of a sudden not feeling very well. Nobles were never allowed that strong of alcohol. But Will wasn't sure that was the only reason for his current uneasiness. He was quite close to Jack, perhaps too close for what could be considered natural. Jack seemed perfectly comfortable with their proximity, however. Will let his hand drop to Jack's side, momentarily forgetting the bottle of rum he had previously so tightly grasped. He felt something cold there, and looked down to see a pistol.
"Jack…" he started, somewhat fearful of the question. "If you're so sure we can get back home, so happy and…alright…with all of this, why did you bring the gun?"
Jack sighed. Will was truly more naïve than he had thought. He felt a sudden urge to protect the boy, if not only for Will's sake but for the father of the girl who had gotten them into this mess. He wanted to show Will that they would be alright, that there was always hope. He'd faced this before, after all. Jack had faced it for a great portion of his life. Isolation doesn't only come in the form of a desolate island with no signs of life in any direction. No, isolation hurts even more when you've lost your pride and dignity, and those that you thought you trusted turned against you. Jack had been alone for a long time, but here by Will's side he didn't feel that. He wanted Will to feel the same. "Like I told you, mate, this shot was not meant for you. Don't fret over it. We're not going to die out here, savvy?"
Will didn't know why, but he found himself trusting Jack, something he had rarely done since he met the captain. Maybe it was way Jack was looking at him at that moment, or maybe it was the comforting arm around his back. "Savvy," Will replied, grinning slowly. Will flinched a little though when he felt Jack's hand brush his face. "Jack…I…what are you doing?"
"Shh. It's just us here, Will. What are you so afraid of?" Jack asked quietly, leaning down towards Will.
"You got me drunk on purpose!" Will argued angrily, though not really with his heart. He found that he didn't really want to move away.
Jack quieted him with a hand around his waist. "I got you drunk so you could learn to live a little, mate. Being stuffed up in that governor's house all the time must be bloody terrible, having to prove yourself all the time. You don't have to prove yourself right now, curse your English propriety."
Jack silenced whatever Will's next argument would have been with a passionate kiss, effectively convincing the boy to let go of whatever restraints he was so attached to. Jack gently lowered him onto the sand, kissing him softly but all the while watching him, hoping to see in Will's eyes some sign that he wasn't so depressed anymore. Instead what he saw was confusion, fear, and sadness. He sighed, stopping his actions for a moment. "Will you let me help you with your grief, mate?"
Will just stared into Jack's eyes for a moment. He knew he could trust him, it was just that this wasn't supposed to happen to him. He wasn't supposed to be here, with a pirate, deciding whether to trust him or not. All of his life he had been so sure of everything. That is, until he met Jack. Jack had to go and throw in the unknown element of danger. "Jack…how do you know…how do you trust what's uncertain?"
Jack nodded knowingly, tracing a hand down Will's neck while thinking of how to answer his query. He had, after all, put faith in the unknown all his life. "You just have to let go, love. Life will not always have rules and laws telling you what to do. So you let go and let whatever happens happen. I suppose that's the only way I've survived."
Will nodded, understanding, but not yet fully believing. Jack took this as consent and leaned down to kiss Will once more, letting one hand roam through Will's thick dark hair and the other under his shirt, which shortly came off. The two made short work of the rest of their clothes, and sighed into each other.
A noble lost himself in an exotic pirate, and a lonely man found himself in a trusting friend. The fire raged on beside them and within them, oblivious to the rest of the world.