Jack's head hurt. It hurt in the most abomidable fashion, and he hesitated to open his eyes, knowing that it would only exacerbate matters. He groaned, and slowly brought a hand up to a rather large knot on his head, right in the middle of his forehead. Much to his surprise, his bandana has been removed, and a cold, wet towel was in its place. Where was he? It felt like a bunk... on a ship... or maybe another hallucination... where was he?
"...Jack? Can you hear me?" The voice was familiar, yet it sounded like it was coming from somewhere near the coast of Sweden, or some other ungodly place. He cracked open his eyes... ungodly place, indeed... his eyes uncrossed themselves, and they fell upon the smiling faces of Captain William Turner and Bootstrap Bill Turner.
Suddenly, every muscle in Jack's slender body sprang to life and he sat straight up, then, open mouthed, he skittered backwards across the bunk, like a dreadlocked crab, and slammed his back against the wall next to the bunk. He stared at them for a moment, before the pain overtook him, and he almost fainted. "...Oi! Bloody hell! I'm dead again, an' I'm on the bloody Flyin' Dutchman, an' ye're both tryin' t' reap me weasly black soul!" the captain groaned, his hands holding the wet towel over his eyes, instead of the lump on his head.
William laughed, "... no, you daft scamp, we fished your sorry arse out of a sorry little boat in the middle of a bloody storm, in the middle of nowhere, so we would NOT have to reap your weasly black soul!" Bootstrap also laughed, as Jack let the towel drop just enough that his huge, round eyes could stare at both of them for a moment. He blinked hard several times, then the same eyes rolled around the cabin, taking it all in, before he spoke again.
"... William... I'm not dead?" Jack asked, plaintively.
"... no, Jack, you are very much alive," William smiled broadly at his friend, then looked at his father and nodded. Bill immediately produced a bottle of rum, and three mugs.
"Fer medicinality purposes?" Jack asked, hopefully. His eyes finally rested on the mug that was handed to him... he then closed his eyes, and realized just how wet, and cold, and pained he was..."oooooh, me head..."
Williams leaned toward the captain, and said, warmly, "Jack... I'm glad to see you. But what are you doing clear out here, all alone, in a pathetic little dinghy?"
Jack opened his eyes as Bill placed a dry, warm blanket around his shoulders. Jack grumpily pulled it around himself, and groused, "William, I'll thank ye t' not be callin' me ship, 'Th' Sparrow's Revenge', pathetic!"
Bill whooped with laughter as Jack looked at him, an expression of hurt on his face. "Wha's so funny?"
"'The Sparrow's Revenge'??? That name is bigger than th' dinghy is, Jack!"
"... well, it's th' only ship tha' I have right now, an' I thought it was a good name, considerin' th' circumstances..." the pirate captain put the wet, cool towel back to his painful head. "...ohhh, how did I get such a such a goose egg?"
William pressed the mug of rum back into his friend's hand, as Jack had his eyes covered, also. He winced to think of how much Jack's head must be pounding, right now.
"When we pulled your boat aside of the Dutchman, you were laying on your back in the bottom, unconscious, with your feet over the side of the boat and an oar in your hands, damn near drowning in rain. It looked as though the wind had caught the sail, the sail caught the oar, and it smacked you right in the head...knocked you out cold. It's a good thing we were in the vicinity to save you, or you might be here for an entirely different reason, mate."
"It's a fine thing... " Jack muttered, "... you hits me in th' head wif an oar on Isle de Muerta, I hits you in th' head wif an oar on Isla Cruces, and now I hits meself in th' head wif an oar out in the open sea. Dangerous things, oars."
Bill and William glanced at each other, and William finally approached Jack with the inevitable question, "Jack... what happened to the Black Pearl?"
Jack took the towel down from his eyes, and sighed. "Hector Barbossa commandeered her on Tortuga..."
"What???" William was incredulous that Jack had let the Pearl slip out of his hands again, and that the Pearl was once more captained by a man that who had no entitlement or right to her. Jack winced. "I'm sorry, Jack," William reached out and took the towel from his friend's hands and dipped it into a basin of water. He wrung it out and handed it back to him.
Jack couldn't look up at his friends. "We got back to Tortuga an' I let everyone have shore leave. We all lef' th' ship in shifts, so as not t' leave the Pearl unguarded. Once I left th' ship, I thought tha' I had trusted crew aboard, an' I took Gibbs wif me... once again, I was wrong..." he said, bitterly. "I came back to the docks, I found Gibbs asleep, and me Pearl gone. Hector had sneaked back on th' ship an' took her... There was nothin' tied up in her place, except th' little dinghy..."
Bill looked at his dejected friend with sympathy, "Was it a mutiny, again, Jack?" Bill was almost embarassed to ask this question, considering all that had befallen them because of the last mutiny that Barbossa had led. Jack was marooned and homeless, Bill sent to Davy Jones, and the Pearl and her crew were cursed by Aztec gold.
"Mutiny? How th' blazes would I know?" Jack replied..."I jus' came back, an' she was gone!" He pressed the towel to his aching head, and muttered, "... I should never trust anyone... I should never trust anyone! An' Gibbs had th' bloody nerve t' jus' waltz off wif Scarlet and Gisele, an' leave me standin' there... o' course, tha' was after I smacked 'im one."
"Be fair, Jack... Gibbs has always been there for you, when it all comes down to it," Will smiled, gently, "He probably thought it best to leave you to a temper tantrum that you were, no doubt, pitching with great enthusiasm."
Jack looked up, pouting. "Aye, an' he prob'ly knew tha' both of us wouldn't fit in th' dinghy, anyway...oi, me head...bugger..." he whimpered.
Later in the evening, the storm was still raging. They could not go below with mortal Jack among them, so the Dutchman stayed on the surface of the sea. The little dinghy was lashed firmly to the side of the mighty ship, and bobbled around in the water like a small duckling next to it's mother. The three friends remained in Captain Turner's cabin, and talked well into the night. Jack's head throbbed steadily, but the rum and the wet compress seemed to help, and his mood became more congenial. They all shared a great laugh at the thought of Jack cutting the center out of Hector's prized chart for the American Spanish Territories... a captain's charts were a prized possession, and it was tantamount to treason to damage or steal charts.
Finally wishing to change the subject, Jack turned to William, and asked, "So, Captain Whelp... how are ye adjustin'? Did Jones leave things in such bad a shape as I suspect?" He paused, then asked, "... how is... can ye contact Elizabeth?"
William looked out the windows of the cabin, his eyes watching the waves tumbling about in the wake of the Dutchman's stern. "Jones was, indeed, a loose cannon, Jack. He had been neglecting his duty to ferry souls for some time. In the time that it took you and the Pearl to reach Tortuga, I had much work to do. Fortunately," he continued softly, "... I have few distractions..."
"... ye didn't answer me question direct, lad... can ye contact yer wife?"
Bill spoke, as William continued to stare out into the darkness. "William has tried, Jack, but we have not heard from her yet. I am thinking that this is a test from Calypso... I am thinking that she is intercepting any kinds of messages that William is sending to Elizabeth... I am sure that we'll be in contact with the lass soon, but we have had no success, yet."
Jack pondered this. "How are ye tryin' t' contact Izzy, Will?" This was the first time that Jack used his nicknames for both Elizabeth and Will, and William turned around and smiled at him for it. "... Calypso told me to use the most primitive method that you could think of, Jack... a message in a bottle, of all things."
"Well, Will, I should be supposin' tha' these bottles might reach their destinations a bit different than usual, if Calypso is involved..." Jack finally was on his feet, swaying with the rocking of the ship and with his hands punctuating his words. "By th' same token, the bottles might be intercepted by said same sea goddess, an' held for a bit, jus' like ye said, t' test yer patience an' yer indur... indear..." he searched for a word, then inexplicably looked at no one next to him and said, "...endurance... thank ye, mate..."
Bill stared at Jack for a moment, until he saw Will looking at him, shaking his head as if to say not to mind Jack's frequent wanderings of the mind. Bill mused to himself, "I never knew Jones to try t' write t' anyone, nor did he ever try t' contact anyone... he had no friends, no allies... so I am afraid I know of no other way except what Calypso tells us."
Jack approached Will and put a hand on his shoulder, and said reassuringly, "I know tha' she is alright, mate, an' she knows tha' these things take time... our Izzy is a strong lass, an' thing's 'll be jus' fine... by th' by, what's this I hear 'bout a possibility tha' th' curse could be lifted early, hm?" Jack leaned forward, twiddling a finger in the air, and caught Will's eye.
William glanced out of the corner of his eye at his friend, his hands clasped behind his back. "Calypso and I discussed it, briefly, but I am not putting a lot of faith in that one, Jack. I am simply resigning myself to ten years service to the Dutchman... and hoping that I can be released at that time, if things go the way that I wish for them to."
Jack joined his friend, staring out the windows of the cabin... he was already trying to think of something, some way, to regain his ship and help bolster William's outlook... in a way, it felt like old times, in Port Royal, as a pirate captain and a young blacksmith formed an alliance to regain those things that they loved so much. "Well," he said, brightly, "I think tha' we both have problems that need t' be addressed, gentlemen... we need t' think some things through..."
Bill studied the backs of the two men before him... one was his son, the other was a man who, for a very long time, had wished he was Bill's son, also. He wondered if... no, he was positive that the two of them, together, would come up with some kind of answers to both of their problems.