Chapter Two
He was wrapped in a world of pain, his dull, brown eyes staring, wide open, from a pale and bloody face. He lay where he had fallen, eager to welcome Death's embrace. He had searched for years that felt like lifetimes for his love, and he was ready, at last, to give up his futile search.
Jack must not love him the way he loved him for if he had, surely he would have found him by now. Will had stayed at each of the ports his beloved Captain frequented, always leaving messages for him at the docks, taverns, and blacksmiths before taking back to the ocean again. He had left hundreds of messages, braved countless dangers, and sailed on more ships than he cared to remember, all in his fruitless search for the man who he had given his heart, life, and soul to, though it now appeared that he would never even get the chance to tell him.
He'd never learn the answer to the question that plagued his every moment whether Jack could ever feel the way he felt for him. He'd never again feel the warm reassurance of his strong arms wrapped tightly around him nor see the light dancing in his chocolate eyes as he taunted and joked. He'd never watch him dance again for his elegant movements were akin to a dancer, even when fighting and even if that dancer had had a wee bit too much rum.
Rum. He could smell it now, filling the air along with blood, sweat, and burning wood. The ship must be about to explode, and he would go with her just as Jack was bound to one day go with the Pearl.
Ah, Jack! The thought of never seeing his handsome love again brought tears to his eyes, and he let them roll down his face and splash into his own blood that was pooling beneath him.
Will sighed, and the small movement sent ripples upon ripples of fresh pain crashing through his body. He'd never see his love again, but at least he'd finally be granted peace. He closed his eyes, prepared and even glad to die.
To Be Continued . . .