Part Twelve

The Pearl's stay at Tortuga lasted just three days. It was not long before all that could be seen was the ocean, stretching on for eternity in every direction. Jack stood to the side of the deck and stared solemnly at the sunset far off on the horizon. A ghost of a smile spread onto his face as his thoughts drifted to the Navy men. He pictured them coming out of hiding because the Pearl was gone and celebrating with alcohol and women. There was no doubt in his mind that they would gain passage back to Port Royal. Upon their arrival they would be greeted by worried wives and children, and he did not know why the idea of Groves embracing his sweet bonnie lass made him depressed. Perhaps the charming young man did not have a woman to return to, but that notion did not assuage the dejection he felt. Even if there was no woman, Theodore and his men still had something to return to. Jack did not care to leave with them because there was nothing for him to live for. His home – his sanctuary – had become his barricaded, physical nightmare. And there was no one missing him, no one waiting eagerly for him onshore that he could hold tightly.

He had lost everything, making him believe that there was no reason for him to be saved.

Suddenly, he was grabbed from behind and dragged away, snapping him out of his troubling thoughts. The expression on Barbossa's countenance several feet in front of him told him everything.

The empty brig had at last been discovered.

He was stripped of his shirt in seconds. His wrists were lifted above his head and tied to the cargo net leading up to the yardarm. He spotted the nine tailed whip, and his eyes dilated with fear. Six of the cords had a sharp piece of metal tied to the ends; a couple of them were slightly hooked. Barbossa strode to him and grasped his neck strongly. He cried out from the contact on his burned skin.

"Did ye think I wouldn't find out sooner or later?" Barbossa hissed quietly. "You liberated them, and it is time for you to endure the consequences. After we're done here, maybe I should lock ya away in the hull again and let the rats have ya."

"No, please don't," Sparrow begged pathetically. "Please."

Barbossa released him with a snarl and walked to stand among the men who had gathered around. He gave a nod, and the crewman drew back the whip. With immense power, the lashes smacked against the pirate's dorsal side. Sparrow screamed from the impact and the feeling of the scraps of metal cutting open his flesh much worse than the cords themselves. The next strike made him shriek loudly; the scorched skin of his right side had been hit with a few of the jagged objects. He wept uncontrollably as his back was flogged relentlessly. Each hit made him wail in agony. Blood slid down from the gashes, painting his dorsal side almost entirely red.

He was not sure how many times he had been struck before everything became blurry. Nausea swept over him as he tried to focus. When the punishment finally ended, twenty-five lashes later, he fell into a crewman's arms immediately after his wrists were untied. There were voices; yes, that is what the noise was. And there were faces. Distorted faces. He bowed his head and closed his eyes when his stomach warned him of its sickness. No more concentration, for he would vomit wretchedly.

Two men hauled him to the captain's cabin, and the last thing he knew before unconsciousness took him was the softness of the bed linens against his chest and abdomen.


"It's not here," Elizabeth said disappointedly. "They're not here."

James stood beside her and scanned the docked ships. The Black Pearl was not among them. Will and Gibbs joined the two persons, feeling the gloominess instantly.

"We should try searching the taverns," Will suggested. "If she's not here, then surely someone has heard something of her whereabouts."

They treaded toward the raucous crowd and made their way to the Faithful Bride. Each went off in their own direction once inside, frantically glancing around for anyone recognizable. James pushed his way through to the back. His mouth fell open in shock from the person he spotted. Hurriedly, he made his way to Groves' table.

"Theodore?!" he asked in astonishment.

Groves looked up at him and smiled. "James!" He stood and shook the former Commodore's hand. "What in bloody hell are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question."

"My men and I – we were captured."

"By whom?"

"Captain Barbossa, I believe it is now."

James' heart sped its pace. "Of the Black Pearl?"

Groves nodded. "Yes."

"How did you get here, then?"

"The ship came a few days ago to re-supply. We were set free by…." He stopped for a moment as the haunting vision of Jack's violation crossed his mind. He swallowed and began again. "We were set free by Jack Sparrow."

James squinted at him in disbelief. "Jack Sparrow?"

"Yes. He wasn't dead as you believed."

"And he's alive now?"

"I'm not sure. Who knows what tortures might befall him when Barbossa finds out that we're gone?"

James was speechless. Their anxious search had not been in vain. Jack was alive, and it was all he needed to hear to continue on after the Pearl.

"We have to leave tonight," he muttered more so to himself.

"Where are you going?"

"To rescue Jack. The former crew of the Black Pearl wishes to find him."

"Let us come with you."

James nodded in agreement. "Gather your men and meet us at the docks. Quickly."

James forced his way through the overpopulated tavern to fetch the three others. He came upon Will first.

"He's alive," he said quietly.

"Jack?"

"Yes. The ship was here not long ago; a few days at most. If we set off now, we have a good chance of catching up."

They found Elizabeth and Gibbs in less than a minute and were racing back to the Blue Rose. Groves and his ten men arrived shortly after.

Speedily, the ship was readied and headed out to the vast sea.


A faint groan came from Sparrow before he opened his eyes. He had not been moved from the bed. The soreness and intense distress from the lashes on his back made him moan tremulously. He attempted to raise himself in order to sit, but his body would not permit it.

"Finally awake, I see," Barbossa stated as he knelt in front of Jack. "You were out cold for two days."

Jack tried to reply, though it was nothing more than whimpers that sounded from his mouth.

"There's no need to waste your energy by talkin'. I prefer ya when ye can't say anythin' anyway."

The captain scraped his fingernails viciously down Sparrow's mutilated back. The pirate buried his face into the pillow and shrieked from the sensation of what felt like knives. Once they reached the top of Jack's breeches, Barbossa stopped. The garment was loose enough on his starved frame that the captain was able to pull the clothing down to Sparrow's knees without even having to unbutton them, exposing the man's round backside. His gaze never left the pirate's countenance as he pushed his forefinger into Jack's body. Jack shut his eyes and sobbed, trembling in pain when the fingertip curled and stroked his tender muscles. Two more digits were inserted, making him whimper softly.

"You bring these things on yourself," Barbossa said uncaringly. "No one to blame but yourself." He started to thrust his fingers inside of Jack; the response was an anguished wail. "Didn't ye promise that you would never betray me? And then you go and do somethin' like that. Seems like ya had a fancy for that one gent. But ya know he's too good to ever spend his time voluntarily with you."

Sparrow cried into the pillow as the older man continued to twist his fingers about within him. Humiliation covered him and this time, it refused to dissipate once Barbossa finally withdrew his probing digits. He gave a shaky moan when the captain's hand ventured between his singed thighs and rubbed his flaccid member.

"Like that, do ya now?" the gruff voice cooed. "Your body always knows how to deceive ya."

Though he desperately attempted to force himself not to yield to the pleasurable caresses, he was unsuccessful and ejaculated onto the captain's fingers minutes later with an ashamed groan.


Gray clouds hindered any sunlight that may have been had. There was lightning in the distance, and the storm was headed in their direction. Will kept his head upturned to the sky as if looking for a sign, confirmation, that they were traveling the right way. There was something that suddenly washed over him, and he had never felt so assured.

"Are you ready, William Turner?"

He glanced to his side, smiling upon seeing Tia Dalma. "For what?"

"'De fight dat will be had. She is here."

Her eyes gazed to the side before turning to leave. He stared frenziedly to where she had looked and lost his breath for a second. At that moment someone shouted from the crow's nest, "Captain! A ship off to the east!"

Will darted up to the helm as James brought a spyglass to his eye.

"Is it her?" he asked with anticipation.

James was quiet for a number of seconds before pressing the ends of the scope together. "Yes. It's them."


"Captain, we have a ship trailin' after us on the starboard side."

Barbossa averted his gaze from his crewman and ascended to the helm. He peered through his spyglass, surveying the men aboard the gaining vessel.

"I'll be damned," he grumbled. "Those fucking miscreants survived. They'll just have to die where I can see them now. Alter course to bring her alongside the oncoming vermin!"

The crew bustled about, preparing for the skirmish, as Barbossa quickly went to his cabin. He stomped into the bedroom and grinned devilishly at the sight. Jack was curled up in his corner, shaking with terror, and stared at the captain timidly. He hugged himself securely and whispered pleadingly, "Don't hurt me. Please. I didn't do anything. Promise. I swear. Please don't hurt me."

His eyes were red from constantly crying, and the frequency of the tears increased as Barbossa crept closer. The older man grabbed him roughly by the arm and hoisted him to his feet. Sparrow clutched Barbossa's coat and gazed at him dependently.

"Please! I didn't do anything!" he sobbed piteously. "Please don't have me whipped or-or stashed away in the hull or-or somethin' else. I can't bear it; I can't take anymore! The pain is too much. I won't be able to endure it! Please, have mercy!"

He rested his forehead on Barbossa's chest and wept hysterically. Barbossa petted the man's hair and smiled wickedly.

Jack Sparrow had finally been broken completely.

"There, there, my precious sparrow," the captain soothed. "Ye aren't in trouble this time. Calm down. I'm here to take ya to the brig. Come on, now."

Jack wiped his cheeks and took Barbossa's offered hand. He was led into the main room and waited while Barbossa went to the table. The captain tossed Sparrow's shirt to him, and the pirate was able to put it on after a tremendous amount of effort. They exited the quarters and started across the deck. Canons were being readied; the sails had been fully deployed. Jack's eyes scanned the chaotic area, having no idea what was happening.

He did not see the ship ahead before going below to be locked in a cell.


The two ships were finally side by side. Canons boomed and gun powder rose to the sky. Grappling hooks were thrown, and members from each crew swung to the other vessel to combat.

Will landed on the deck of the Pearl with one purpose in mind. He did not expect to find Jack engaging in the battle, and the first place to check that came to mind was the captain's quarters. His sword clashed numerous times with other men's as he made his way to the double doors. He shoved them aside, forging a clear path for himself.

Ten minutes passed before he burst through the doors and inspected the space frenziedly.

"Jack!" he shouted. "Are you in here?"

He jogged to the bedroom doorway and sighed heavily as he glanced about the empty area.

"Where could he be?"


Jack was seated in the middle of his cell with his knees to his chest. He quaked from each canon blast and flinched every now and then from the angry yelling above. Unlike the thrill he had before, he now felt nothing from knowing another ship was right outside. There was no hopefulness; he simply did not care to be saved. In fact, he did not want to. He had accepted his subordinacy and lost all belief in the value of life. There was nothing for him beyond the railings of the Black Pearl.

Rapid footsteps sounded from the stairs, causing Sparrow's posture to grow rigid. The person stopped at the bottom, and he did not bother turning around to see who it was.

Will was utterly baffled. He stared at the confined man's back as he tried to think of other places Jack could be. He was about to race up to the deck, but something abruptly prevented him. The red fabric of the bandana that lay on the male's back was a match to the eccentric pirate's. Warily, he walked nearer to the bars. There was no movement from the occupant when he stood before the door and gazed at him critically. The choppy, short hair resting on the man's cheek made it difficult for Will to determine who it was. The braided beard, however, confirmed the suspicion.

Will almost dropped to the floor in shock.

"Jack?" he questioned lightly. "Jack, is that you?"

There was no answer.

He looked about to find leverage. After a couple of minutes, he returned to the bars with a bench and repeated the same action he had done when he had saved Jack for the first time in Port Royal. Once the door crashed to the ground, he strolled into the cell and knelt in front of the pirate. Sparrow met the young man's eyes with his own. A maddening glint was present in the deadened amber orbs, making Will's heart pulsate achingly in his chest from the uneasiness he had.

With a wild yell, Jack lunged at Will and tackled him to the ground. His fingers clasped tightly around the male's neck in hopes of strangling him to death. The blazing, wrathful eyes Will looked up at resembled nothing of the clever pirate he had known. The ferocious expression on the man's beaten countenance and the snarling that sounded from him made him more like a rabid beast than a human.

Will took hold of Sparrow's throat, making him cry out in pain and loosen his grip. The former blacksmith was fast to take advantage of the moment of weakness. He knocked the pirate to the side and stood, waiting for whatever was to come next. Jack struggled to get to his feet; the feral appearance had not changed.

"Jack, it's me!" Will said exasperatedly. "It's Will Turner!"

The words did not have any impact. Sparrow ran at him and shoved him against the dividing bars. Will grew slightly dizzy from the collision, but recovered hurriedly to kick the pirate backward. An injured wail came from Sparrow, and he placed gentle hands onto his singed abdomen.

"What is wrong with you?!" the young man inquired, frustrated. "It's me! I'm not here to hurt you!"

A threatening growl escaped Jack's parted lips before he attacked Will once again. He leapt onto the male's back and wrapped his arms about his neck. Will tried to rip them away, though Jack did not budge. With one swift movement, he flung Sparrow over his head and to the ground. Jack's eyes widened in sheer agony, and his breath left him. Will sat down beside him and grabbed his face.

"Look at me. Look at me, Jack."

The pirate stared at him with extraordinary anguish in his dark eyes.

"You do not need to be afraid of me. It's Will Turner, Jack. I've come for you."

Something shifted in Sparrow's gaze, and he sat up to view Will directly. He did not want to believe it, could not believe that it was indeed his former friend.

"William?" he croaked. He reached out a quivering hand and caressed the man's cheek. "Is it really you?"

Will's heart was overcome with immense grief. "Yes. It really is me."

"You're alive?"

"Yes. And we've come back for you."

Jack retracted his palm from the male's countenance to cover his own as he began to weep. Will inched closer and whispered, "Come here." The pirate snaked his arms about Will's torso and embraced him with the little amount of strength he had left. The ex-blacksmith held Jack's head to his chest and placed an arm across his shoulders.

"It's all right now, Jack," he spoke comfortingly. "They won't be able to harm you again. I've got you. You're safe."

Sparrow shook his head. "It's a nice thought, but it's not true. I'm goin' to be here forever."

"No, you're not. I'm going to get you away from here."

A quiet click sounded from the stairs before a low voice ordered, "Don't move, Master Turner."

Will felt Jack go entirely still from hearing Barbossa. The pirate pulled away hurriedly and crawled to the corner. Barbossa took a couple of steps forward as Will held up his hands.

"Stand up," the captain commanded.

The young man obeyed and turned around to face him.

"Get over there." He motioned for the young man to exit the cell and stand in front of the adjacent one's door. "Come here, Jack."

Sparrow quickly got up and went to Barbossa. He stared at the floor, and Will could easily observe that he was utterly petrified.

"You will not be leavin' here with him, Mister Turner," Barbossa spat.

"I hardly think you are in a position to make such a claim. Your crew will be overtaken, and you will no longer have any authority to keep him prisoner."

"So perhaps ye will capture the ship and the crew. But I see it in your eyes that you only care about killin' me. Isn't that so?"

"Yes, it is."

"Well then-" He held Jack to him with his arm over the pirate's throat and shoved the barrel of his pistol against Jack's right temple. "If ya wish to do so, I will kill him first."

Will looked sorrowfully at Sparrow's face. Tears poured down his cheeks and he whimpered softly from his unbearable fear and the powerful pressure applied to his scorched flesh. Will watched as Barbossa said something into Jack's ear, and it made Jack sob even more.

"Leave him out of this," the young man stated firmly. "It's between you and me. I know you are a great swordsman, but are you too afraid to accept a challenge against my skills?"

"You speak highly of yourself, Turner. It'd be a shame if ya can't live up to your prized 'skills'."

"To the death?"

Barbossa hurled Jack to the floor, arousing a wounded moan to come from the pirate. "Aye, to the death."

Barbossa tucked his pistol into his belt and unsheathed his sword. Will removed his blade and met him halfway. The clink of steel sounded as their weapons made contact. Jack observed the two fighting from a distance, wincing when either one was almost hit.

"Please, stop," he whined as he covered his ears and started to rock back and forth nervously. "Stop, stop, stop. Please. Please….Stop."

Neither showed signs of tiring even after fifteen minutes had passed. Jack had taken to watching them through his fingers, for he had shielded his face with his hands. When a sword suddenly went flying to the side, he gasped and closed his eyes.

"Looks like that's it for ya," Barbossa said mischievously. He kept the tip of his blade under Will's chin. "How do ye wish to go? The throat? Or right through the stomach, perhaps."

In a flash Will maneuvered under the blade and snatched the silver pistol from Barbossa's waist. A shot resonated through the area, making Jack scream in horror. His eyelids flew open in time to see Barbossa grin amusedly at Will before falling backward.

"No!" he shouted with extreme panic.

The bullet had lodged itself in the older man's heart, and he was dead in seconds. Sparrow dashed on his hands and knees to the captain and drew the slain man into his arms. His shaking fingers closed Barbossa's eyelids and stroked his cheek affectionately.

"Oh my god. Oh my god!" he yelled, wholly devastated. "No, no, no. Oh god, no! No! Oh god. Oh my god!"

Will gazed at Sparrow as if he were insane. The pirate had absolutely snapped. Why was he mourning his torturer's death? Why was he not celebrating? Will knelt down next to him, and Jack glanced at him irately.

"Don't touch me, Will," he warned dangerously when he saw the young man reach for him. "Don't touch me."

"Jack…." He was beyond confusion. It was not as if he desired to be thanked by the pirate, but he did not understand why he was not receiving such praise at all.

"Leave me alone."

"You must come with me."

"Leave me alone!" Jack roared. "Get out of here! Get the fuck out of here!"

Will grasped the man's wrist, causing Sparrow to stare at him madly.

"He's gone," he said quietly. "He was hurting you, Jack. Don't grieve for him."

Sparrow shook his head. "No, it was my fault. He only hurt me because I brought it on meself. It's my fault. Everything."

"That's not true, Jack. You did nothing wrong. Don't you dare believe that any of this was your fault. You're free of him now."

"Free? What does that mean? What do I do now, ay? What do I do?! There's nothing!"

Will enveloped him consolingly as the man cried helplessly. For a lengthy period, neither moved or said a word. Jack gradually regained some composure and slowed his fast, uneven breaths.

Will waited several more minutes before whispering, "Come on. Let's go."

He stood and pulled Jack to his feet. They made it half way up the stairs before Sparrow collapsed from exhaustion. The young man swept him into his arms and carried him the rest of the way. Once on deck Will surveyed the area and smiled. Barbossa's crew had been captured, and they were all in shackles. The remaining members of Jack's former crew had swung over and took command of the ship for the time being. Gibbs strode to Will and cast a troubled glance at the person in his arms.

"Did ya find him?" he asked.

Will motioned with his head to the man he held.

Gibbs was completely stunned. "It's him?"

"Yes. Sadly."

It was difficult to believe that the horrendously emaciated being was Jack Sparrow. Gibbs' eyes took in all of the transformations; the loss of hair and the burns on the pirate's neck and cheek were the most visible. Jack's visage was painted with vicious bruises and cuts, making him unrecognizable upon first glance.

"God almighty," Gibbs said softly. "Is he even alive?"

"Yes. I'm going to take him over to James' ship to recover. Are you following?"

"Aye. He said he'd be headin' to Port Royal, so we'll take these men there to await a hanging. Let them rot in jail for awhile before facing justice."

Will gave a weak smile and nodded.

"Did you find Barbossa?"

"He's dead. You'll find him by the brig."

Will treaded away and took hold of one of the ropes at the side to travel back to the Blue Rose.

"Put your arms around my neck and your legs around my waist," he instructed Jack.

Jack did as he was told and held onto Will snugly. Will pulled himself up to stand on the railing before swinging across the space between the two ships. He landed on unsteady feet on the Rose's deck, though hurriedly balanced himself. He heard Elizabeth's voice along with Groves' as they rushed to him, but he paid no attention to them.

"May he rest in your quarters?" he asked James when he arrived in front of him.

"Of course," James said vaguely as he stared unbelievingly at the man Will held. "Of course. Follow me."

Jack laid his head on Will's shoulder, closed his eyes, and sighed. It looked as if he were a sleepy child being carried home by a loving parent. Once they were inside James' cabin and near his bed, Jack refused to let go of Will. He screamed and cried in protest as James and Groves pried him off of Will and pulled him away. They eased him onto the piece of furniture, and he immediately curled up on his side.

He was asleep in seconds.

"Should we start tending to his wounds now?" James inquired.

"No. Let him rest," Will said faintly. "He went through enough for today."

"Oh god," Elizabeth whispered as tears fell from her eyes. "What have they done to him?"

Will gazed at her and wanted to hug her reassuringly, but he could not bring himself to do so. Instead, he stated gently, "We should leave him in peace."

James ushered Groves and Elizabeth out of the room. Will was about to exit as well, yet a finger brushed against his hand. He studied Sparrow's countenance, not knowing if he was awake or not.

"Jack?"

"Please stay with me," was the practically inaudible response.

Will smiled and sat down on the floor. He rested his head on the side of the bed and took Jack's hand in his. A frown came to him from the unnatural feeling of the pirate's fingers. He examined the dislocated digits and exhaled a dismayed breath. Not wanting to disturb Jack's tranquil slumber, he decided against rectifying the bones.

He kept his fingers laced with Jack's, and he did not leave Sparrow's side for the rest of the day.