Chapter 13: Promotion (AKA Jackett flashback)
Jack absently traced the P on his wrist with his fingers. He had looked at this mark many times over the past 13 years, but the experience of being branded had then been nothing more than a faded memory, easily pushed aside. Now, the events leading up to that point played themselves in his mind with startling clarity, and nothing Jack did could put a stop to these depressing images of a time he thought he would never have to relive.
- - - - -
Jack Sparrow, a young man of 28, stood before Cutler Beckett's desk to receive whatever news the man had summoned him for.
"Nothing wrong, I hope, Mr Beckett?"
Cutler shook his head, smiling. "In fact, the opposite, Mr Sparrow. You're a fine merchant, and have been a surprising asset to the East India Company since your employment began last year. As such, I've decided to promote you. Starting tomorrow, you will be captaining the Wicked Wench on her journey to The Americas."
Jack was speechless. The Wicked Wench had been the reason he had taken up employment with the Company in the first place. He had originally intended to get to know the ins and outs of Portsmouth in order to steal it, but in doing so he had gotten to know Cutler, eventually growing to love him. Jack had considered on several occasions stealing the ship anyway and returning to piracy, but each time the longing to be with Cutler had made him change his mind. Now it suddenly appeared that he could have both. The feeling of joy overwhelmed him, and for a moment, he forgot everything else, stepping forward to embrace Cutler.
Cutler noticed this and immediately stood to thrust his hand forward. "Congratulations, Mr Sparrow."
Jack remained suspended awhile as he remembered his place, then he grudgingly took Cutler's hand and shook it. He felt a piece of paper between their palms, which Cutler left in Jack's had as he let go.
Cutler withdrew his arm and sat back down, turning his attention to a stack of papers on his desk.
Although still overjoyed, Jack had a sudden sense of isolation in the feeling that he had no one with whom to share his joy. He lingered for a moment until Cutler raised his head to look at him. "That will be all, Sparrow." He said gently, yet formally, before returning his attention to the papers.
"Thank you, Mr Beckett." Jack said as he left.
Once outside, he looked at the piece of paper, and a smile came to his face as the feeling of isolation disappeared. The paper said:
MEET ME IN OUR FIELD AT MIDNIGHT TONIGHT
ALL MY LOVE
YOUR CUTLER
- - - - -
Jack laid on the dew-soaked grass of "their field", an area enclosed by trees that no one tended to frequent, waiting for Cutler. His head rested on his arms as he stared up at the starry sky. He heard footsteps approaching and tilted his head upwards to see a smiling Cutler looking down at him.
"There you are"
"Here I am."
Cutler crouched down in the grass and lifted his leg over Jack, sitting himself atop his waist. Jack took Cutler's hands and laced his fingers into them. "Aren't you going to ask me how my day was?"
"I was there, remember?" Cutler said, playfully weaving their connected hands in various directions
"No." Jack told him, joining his hand-weaving game and trying to push them in different directions. "That wasn't you, that was the dreadful Mr Beckett."
"I see." Cutler replied, skeptically, pushing their hands downwards as Jack resisted.
"And what precisely is the difference?"
"Mr Beckett is a rigid, icy businessman with something perpetually stuck up his arse."
He paused before adding with a mischievous grin "and it ain't me."
Cutler laughed and untied his hands from Jack's, laying himself down next to his lover. "Very well, then. How was your day with this dreadful Mr Beckett?"
"Actually, today he gave me a promotion."
"Really?" Cutler said, feigning surprise. He propped himself back up and kissed Jack, before leaning into his ear. "I'm so proud of you."
Jack smiled and turned to face Cutler. "Although I think Mr Beckett has a bit of a thing for me, so I don't know if I really deserved the promotion."
"Mr Beckett does have a major hard-on for you," Cutler confirmed "but he's so petrified by it that I can assure you," Cutler stroked Jack's face "for him to have promoted you to Captain" he looked down regretfully, "you probably deserved Admiral."
Jack shook his head. "No worries, Darlin'. Captain is more than enough for me. To be in charge of the Wench…" he sighed dreamily and they both knew the rest of that sentence.
Cutler's eyes suddenly lit up as he sat up. "I have something for you."
"Oh?" Jack said, sitting up as well
Cutler fumbled about in his coat pocket and retrieved a small, blue bead, which he handed to Jack. "I know how you like to mark special occasions by adding something to your hair."
Jack admired the bead as it shone in his hand. He smiled, his heart swelling, as Cutler took the bead from his hand and threaded a lock of his black hair through it.
"There" Cutler said with an approving nod. "To mark your promotion." He then arranged a few of Jack's dreadlocks in front of it. "But be careful not to show it, some people may have seen me buying it, and it would be rather difficult to explain how you obtained it."
Jack frowned slightly at this statement. He leaned into Cutler and whispered longingly "Run away with me, Luv."
Cutler laughed as he laid himself back down. "Ah yes, to this magical place where we would be accepted."
"Tortuga." Jack confirmed, luminescent at the thought. He leaned down on top of Cutler, propping himself up on his elbows and looking down into his lover's eyes.
"A pirate port." Cutler countered. "Because pirates are such tolerant and understanding creatures." He fiddled with the bead he had just placed in Jack's hair. "I wish such a place truly existed."
"It does exist, I've been there. I grew up there."
"If you say so." Cutler said, disbelieving. He looked at Jack, longingly. "Tell me about Tortuga again, Jack."
Jack smiled and settled himself next to Cutler, running his hands along the man's chest. "Well," he began, raising his hand to Cutler's shoulder and sliding his lover's jacket off, "we would sail to Tortuga in the Wench, you and me. We'd arrive at the dock, and I'd take your arm in mine," Jack undid the top button on Cutler's shirt, "and I'd take you" he undid the next button, "to the tavern" and the next button, "and order us" and the next "each a drink." another button. Jack looked up at Cutler. "That's rum, not your high class brandy." Cutler laughed and Jack undid the sixth and final button before removing the shirt completely, exposing Cutler's pale, furry chest.
"Then what?" Cutler asked eagerly.
"Then," Jack continued, swiftly removing his own shirt, as well as his boots and pants, so that he could return his hands to the fervent Cutler's face, "we would take a seat and drink our rum." as he spoke his hand slowly traveled down Cutler's cheek, his shoulder, his chest, his stomach and came to a rest on his belt buckle. "My arm would be over your shoulder," Jack's other hand joined the first on Cutler's belt and unbuckled it, "and your head would be nestled in the crook of my neck," he undid Cutler's pants and slowly slid them down.
Cutler closed his eyes as he tried to imagine being in such a position with Jack in a bar. "Would people stare?" he asked, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it anyway.
Cutler's pants were around his ankles.
"They'd glance at us, Luv," Jack slid off one of Cutler's boots "with a passing interest," and the other one, "but what they, themselves, were up to," he slid the pants over Cutler's feet, "would hold far greater interest to them." And then returned to Cutler's side.
"What next, Jack?"
"After we finished our rum," Jack lent his faced next to Cutler's and continued in a sensual whisper, "my hand would somehow find its way to your knee." Jack imitated what he was saying, placing his hand firmly on Cutler's knee and beginning to slide it up. "My hand would go up, slowly, feeling your thigh, searching for something," he ran his hand from Cutler's leg up to his stomach, "my hand gets very confused sometimes. It knows what it's looking for," he ran his hand across Cutler's stomach from one side to the other, "it knows it's somewhere around here."
"Jack, stop teasing me." Cutler moaned in anticipation. "Pretend that your hand is of sound mind the day we arrive in Tortuga."
Jack smiled and inched his thumb gradually towards Cutler's member, his fingers following one by one. "my hand will slide itself down your pants and wrap itself around your cock, pulling ever so gently."
"Ah" Cutler gasped as Jack's enclosed hand ran from shaft to tip, holding firmly yet gently. He thrust his hand back up, feeling Cutler's organ growing in response to his touch.
Cutler began to pant as the sensation radiated from between his legs outwards to the rest of his body. He closed his eyes and lost himself in Jack's voice and touch.
"Then I'll start to stroke you harder and faster as your member grows" he extended his tongue and let it run along the bottom of Cutler's earlobe as his hand thrust up and down the length of Cutler's organ.
"Oh Jack!" Cutler breathed. "Tell me more!"
"I'll nibble your earlobe, the way I know you like" he said, pulling Cutler's lobe into his mouth with his tongue and gently biting into it.
Cutler whimpered with delight as he rolled his body onto his side.
"Those sounds you make will get me hard too," Jack whispered, allowing his excitement to show in his voice, "I'll slide your pants down, and" He continued handling Cutler's member as he hungrily thrust his own into Cutler's rectum.
Cutler turned his head and kissed Jack passionately as the sensations from both directions merged together inside of him.
Jack thrust himself in and out as he spoke. "We'll spend our days," thrust, "living in Tortuga," thrust, "fucking," thrust, "drinking rum," thrust, "sailing the Spanish main," thrust, "and no one," thrust, "will have anything," thrust, "to say about it."
Cutler tried to speak but cried out instead "and nothing," thrust, "will ever make," thrust, "us anxious," thrust, "we won't," thrust, "have a care," thrust, "in the world."
Jack moaned "Ohhh! That's right, Luv," thrust, "except," thrust, "deciding," thrust, "where we want," thrust, "to sail."
"And we'll," thrust, "have no one," thrust, "to answer to," thrust, "but ourselvessss." Cutler's body quivered as he came in Jack's hand.
Jack thrust himself more intensely into Cutler as he felt himself coming closer to climax. He arched back as he gave one last thrust, spilling his seed inside his lover.
Both men were breathing heavily, completely exhausted. Cutler lazily rolled over to face Jack, who blissfully circled his arms around him. "I wish such a place did exist" Cutler mused wistfully.
"I keep tellin' you, Luv, it does."
Jack laid back and Cutler wearily rested his head on Jack's shoulder. Jack kissed Cutler's forehead and closed his eyes. He felt Cutler's fingers weaving spirals on his chest. The soothing sensation eventually lulled him to sleep.
- - - - -
Jack felt a gentle nudge in his ribs.
"Jack, wake up!" a voice said urgently. "We fell asleep. It's nearly daylight, we have to get back."
Jack groaned and rolled over. "You go ahead, I'll stay here a bit."
"You can't stay here, you're supposed to sail the Wicked Wench today."
Jack's eyes shot open. He smiled, recalling the events of the previous day. He picked himself up, allowing himself a moment to stretch the sleep from his body and yawn. Cutler was already fully dressed and slowly taking paces back towards the docks. He sighed impatiently and returned to Jack. "Look, we shouldn't arrive at the same time anyway. I'll go ahead and meet you at the docks, ok?" Jack nodded and Cutler quickly kissed him before heading back.
- - - - -
Jack arrived at the docks to see Cutler, donning his delicately embroidered business suit and white wig, conversing with another member of the East India Company. When Jack approached, Cutler turned and greeted him.
"Ah, Mr Sparrow. Looking forward to setting out to sea on your first day as Captain?"
"Indeed I am, Sir" Jack replied, grinning wickedly at the word Sir.
Cutler cast a stern glance at Jack. "Well," he said nervously, "good luck on your voyage." Cutler turned back to the man he had been speaking to before.
"Like Jackal and bloody Hyde" Jack muttered irritably.
"Pardon me?" Cutler asked, turning to Jack again.
"Thank you, Mr Beckett. I'll be off now." Jack said in a cheerful tone as he headed towards the ship.
Cutler turned to the other man and shrugged innocently.
- - - - -
That night, Jack found himself unable to sleep. He tossed and turned. He was frustrated. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine Cutler's fingers dancing on his chest, luring his eyelids down, his sweet breath on his shoulder, but it was no use.
He needed rum.
Jack wandered about the ship, searching. Where did these people keep the bloody rum? He'd settle for brandy. Whiskey. Beer. Anything containing alcohol, really. Perhaps there was rum amongst the cargo he was meant to deliver to The Americas. Surely they wouldn't notice a few missing bottles. Jack made his way below deck, looking around. Suddenly, a voice called out to him from the darkness.
"Jack Sparrow?"
Jack spun around, heart racing. "Who's there?" He held the lantern in his hand up and then he saw her. A mystical woman Jack had met four years ago. A woman from whom he had bartered his unique compass. A woman who now stood chained to the side of the ship. "What's going on?" Jack whispered, frowning in confusion.
"Lord Beckett has aut'orized our sale and transfer to De Americas." She spat.
Our. Jack looked around and saw many more people chained as Tia Dalma was. He shook his head, horrified. "There's obviously been some kind of mistake," he said, reaching for the keys. "Cutler Beckett would never authorize anything like this." He unlocked the chains around Tia Dalma's neck, wrists and ankles. He proceeded to the next person and then the next, unlocking them each from their bonds, until they were all free.
"Ye will face great trouble fer dis, Jack Sparrow" Tia Dalma warned him.
Jack shook his head. "You don't know Cutler. He never would have intended for anything like this to happen. I'll just turn the ship around and get the cargo I was meant to deliver…" Tia Dalma shook her head, but Jack insisted, "I'm sure he didn't mean…" He wanted so desperately to believe that Cutler would never support the slave trade. "If you knew him…" Jack began, trying in vain to defend the man he loved, but unable to think of a way to finish the sentence.
Tia Dalma smiled gently, cupping Jack's face in her hand, almost nurturing him. Jack closed his eyes and reveled in the sensation, yearning for the intimacy he had shared with Cutler the previous night, that he could never share with his love completely. Jack thought about Cutler as Tia Dalma's arms wrapped around his neck and she leaned in and kissed him. He thought about Cutler signing the papers to sanction the transportation of slaves. He thought about his Cutler brushing him off that morning. He thought about Cutler tenderly embracing him in "their field".
By now Tia Dalma's arms had slid down to Jack's waist, and her tongue had entered his mouth. Jack didn't return the kiss, but nor did he pull away. He merely stood, thinking, wondering about the man he loved.
Tia Dalma pulled away, looking warmly into Jack's eyes. "Cutler Beckett is not de man you tink he is."
Jack sighed heavily, not quite knowing what to think. "Where is it exactly you're all wanting to go?"
- - - - -
The events that followed were a blur as they passed by in Jack's mind. The vast majority of the slaves Jack had rescued had elected to return to Africa. Tia Damla and a few others had chosen to live on various Caribbean islands. It was on the trip from Africa to The Caribbean that Jack had finally given into selfish impulse and slept with Tia Dalma. He had surprised himself by how much he had enjoyed it, despite the fact that she was not his beloved. He had gotten to know Tia Dalma very well during this voyage. She had a strange alluring quality that he couldn't quite pinpoint. All Jack knew was that when she put her hands on him, it felt good. Not as good as when he was with Cutler in private, in "their field", but far better than the rejection he received from Cutler anywhere else. Tia Dalma had been far from indifferent towards Jack during the entirety of the voyage; in fact, during the entire time she had known him. She had an incredibly lustful presence that had drawn many men to her in the time before and since Jack, but this fact had not made Jack enjoy his time with her any less.
Jack now realized that part of him had wished that Cutler would catch him at it, in front of everyone. He had wondered how Cutler would react. Would he falter and reveal himself, or would propriety once again conceal his emotions? Would he care?
Jack's unwanted memories blazed ahead to the moment when Cutler did catch them
When Jack had seen Cutler's ship approaching the Wicked Wench, his heart had skipped a beat. He had stolen Cutler's ship, or at least that's what it would look like. In fact, Jack had every intention of returning to Portsmouth after he had dropped everyone off to their desired destinations. But, from Cutler's viewpoint, one day into his newly acquired position as Captain, Jack had betrayed Cutler.
Sensing Jack's anxiousness, Tia Dalma slipped her arms around him and began kissing his neck. Jack wondered if she realized how little she was helping the situation. He would later discover that she did; that many of her actions were a means to ensure a certain whelp's touch of destiny was achieved. But at that moment, Jack tried for once to deter Tia Dalma's advances, however unsuccessfully.
Without warning, Cutler's ship produced its cannons and began firing on the Wench. Jack was stunned. Cutler was firing on his own ship? On Jack?
The memories flooded through almost too quickly for Jack to process them. Cannons firing on the wench, panicked faces, frantic running about, the ship in shambles, people desperately treading water or clinging to pieces of debris. He shook his head and for a moment was returned to reality. But soon, Jack was drawn back into his past, into the cabin of Cutler's ship.
- - - - -
Jack was dragged into the cabin by two large guards and presented before Cutler, who stood in front of the fireplace, almost hypnotized by the crackling flames. Jack waited, unsure as to what Cutler was going to do. Cutler turned around slowly to face Jack.
"Mr Sparrow," he said, ever the well mannered and emotionally vacant gentleman, "it seems you are a pirate. You stole a ship and property belonging to the East India Trading Company."
"But…" Jack began.
Cutler cut him off "I don't want to hear any excuses." He took a brand with a bright red P on the end of it out of the fire and walked calmly towards Jack. "Your actions have proven you to be a pirate and you will be punished accordingly."
The guards' grip on Jack tightened and Jack felt his heart begin to race. They forced Jack onto his knees. One of the guards extended Jack's arm towards Cutler, who pressed the burning P into Jack's flesh.
"Aargh!" Jack cried as he tried to squirm away. He had never felt such pain in his life. He looked up into Cutler's eyes, searching for a hint of mercy, of compassion, of love. He saw nothing. The few moments the brand was on his forearm stretched out into eternity. Jack began to smell his burnt skin as Cutler removed the brand. The odor made him feel queasy and the room tilted slightly.
Cutler nodded at the guards and they left the room. When they closed the door, Cutler finally allowed his expression to turn malevolent.
Jack shakily got to his feet. He took a few deep breaths and the room stopped spinning. He winced when he looked down at his wrist and saw the cauterized wound.
"Enjoy your little trip, did you Jack?" Cutler asked spitefully, still holding the brander in his hand.
Jack wondered if Cutler had seen him with Tia Dalma, or if this was merely over the ship. He had officially been branded for piracy, for stealing the ship. But he hadn't stolen it. Jack suddenly found himself compelled to clear his name. "I was going to bring the Wench back as soon as…"
"I don't care about the ship, Jack!" Cutler scowled.
Jack's eyes fell. He had nothing to say for what he had done with Tia Dalma.
Cutler shook his head. "And I was foolish enough to believe that you actually loved me. You were incredibly convincing, Jack. All that effort for a ship that's now at the bottom of the ocean." Cutler managed a heartbreaking smile, attempting to impress upon Jack the irony.
Jack looked up at Cutler in shock, unable to process what he was hearing. "Darlin' how can you say that?" He saw Cutler's expression turn acidic, but he persisted. "I'm sorry for what I did, but…"
Before Jack could continue, he felt a sharp pain on the right side of his chin, with a force that threw his head to the side. Jack realized what had just happened. Cutler had hit Jack across the face with the still glowing brand. He heard the clunk of metal as it fell to the ground. Jack didn't turn back to look at him, afraid of what he might see. Anger? Fear? Apathy? The two men stood in silence for a few moments, both unwilling to speak.
Cutler finally broke the silence by opening the cabin door. "Take the prisoner to the brig." he told the guards. They grabbed Jack and roughly escorted him out the door. When he finally dared to glance at Cutler, he caught the subtle trembling of his lower lip.
It had been that night in the brig, Jack recalled as he stroked the scab on his chin, that he had struck a deal with Davey Jones.