Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Jack, Will, Elizabeth, Norrington, Governor Swann or any other random person/place/thing that may have appeared at one point or another, whether to my knowledge or not, in the Pirates of the Caribbean ride, movies, or Disney merchandising. Don't sue me. Yeah, I know. Like this story is that important.
A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews! And really, I am sorry for the cliffhanger. Sort of. Extenuating family emergency recently, so I don't know how often I'll be updating. Well, that and sophomore year of college. Stupid school is getting in the way of my education. ; ) And thanks Steph for all your help. Now, to you lovely people who have reviewed:
Julianna: Thanks so much for the constructive criticism! It makes me happy that you like the characterization and good grammar, because I'm pretty much anal about that stuff. ; ) Well, except for the first few chapters where I was like a sophomore in high school and apparently didn't check it as well. Thanks for telling me what you think: D
Princessshorty327: Well, really, what do I have to say? Hope you had a great time at Disneyland. And now I'm really sad about what I've done to Will. Sadness. Anyway, love you.
Ashley is the bomb: Thanks!! Please keep reading. : )
BroadwayMasher9009: Thank you! That made me really happy. Enjoy!!
Aaraya: Hope you didn't have to wait too patiently for this. ; ) And enjoy your new found knowledge.
Thanks again for the reviews. And now, to the story!
Jack stared out onto the open ocean, shifting his well-trained muscles with the movement of the waves. He watched each wave ebb and flow, the white tips of foam rising and blowing off in a light wind. Green shifted to blue and then to turquoise as one wave became another and yet another.
Captain Jack Sparrow was a thrill seeking man, undoubtedly. Pirate that he was, he lived for the ecstasy that was marauding, stealing, sailing and gambling with one's own life. His love for the ocean was unsurpassed; leading him to every path he had taken thus far in his varied life. It enchanted him, asking only for his unwavering devotion and worship, offering him an endless journey in return.
Unlike the many women he had had in his lifetime, the sea was unchanging. And that is what Jack loved most. Indeed, he conceded, the waves shift endlessly, ever in a state of mournful unrest. In all of this movement, however, Jack found a firm peace. In the water he found something he could count on, in the waves, a mistress who would never leave or die. The ocean was, to Jack Sparrow, the perfect woman.
The hardened pirate snorted in distaste as he recognized that, though perfect, his mistress was no replacement for the woman he could not get out of his head or for that matter, his dreams. Jack shook his head suddenly in an attempt to shake off the thoughts that had plagued him in the night, all manner of knick-knacks clanking in his dreadlocked hair. Elizabeth again.
Despite a heavy self-dosage of hard liquor and heavy pirating in the months following Elizabeth's departure, Jack had found that the one thing he could not put out of his mind was not pleasure, treasure, or ill-gotten gains, but a woman. A woman who had bucked the propriety of her delicate upbringing for the devilish life of a pirate. A woman beautiful to behold, but nearly impossible to tie down. A woman who, if he was to believe what she had told him, was having his child.
In the dream he had seen her, young and happy, teaching a small boy to spear fish, taking his small hand in hers and demonstrating the proper way to skip a stone.
'Had Elizabeth ever done such things?' Jack wondered, an impish grin on his face. 'Undoubtedly not.'
He smirked at the idea of the woman whose fingers were once meant for needlepoint attempting to instruct a son in the ways of shooting or fistfights. The concept was, quite honestly, the first that had elicited a laugh out of the pirate since one of the many days Elizabeth had been a crewmember on the Pearl.
Could Elizabeth Swann raise such a child to be the proper reflection of piracy he would not doubt be obliged to become? Hardly. The socialite would be quite inadequate for such a task, at least in Jack's unforgiving view of his own skills. Elizabeth was incapable of it. She would need someone with the knowledge a growing scoundrel required. She would need a role model of ill repute, a man of notoriety and legend. She would need a father for such a child. Jack's eyes grew wide at the place of unfair honesty his own mind had led him.
She would need Jack Sparrow.
Gibbs walked up behind the captain, as he was wont to do, interrupting the surprising musings Jack was allowing himself.
"Where to, Cap'n?" The first mate asked, watching with a keen interest for Sparrow to reach for a certain compass. When he instead turned and firmly gripped the helm, Gibbs was intrigued. Jack's face slid into a half smile as he turned full to starboard, shifting each article of crew and cargo as he did. An air of insane bravado surrounded the captain, bringing a sense of normalcy once again to the crew of the Black Pearl. The smell of rum stunk strong on Jack's breath as he spoke.
"So glad you asked."
Will's ears rung as if an explosion had just been set off. Each sound resounded with a metallic echo and his heart beat loud and strong in his ribcage. Unconsciously, he reached for Elizabeth's elbow in an attempt to steady her.
"What?" he asked, less out of a genuine desire for an answer, but to give himself time to process what he had just heard. "You what?"
"Will" Elizabeth expressed through gritted teeth, "this baby is coming." When he did move to either help or harm her, she looked him in the eye and emphasized further.
"Now!"
William Turner stood with his mouth agape, frozen where he stood. One moment earlier, a host of different emotions had been pouring through him and, to Elizabeth, it looked as if they had overrun him entirely.
"Will!" she cried out, grabbing him with both hands and putting the full force of her contraction onto his tall frame. As if something had finally connected in his brain, Will blinked suddenly and returned to the room. Reaching out a hand just in time, he steadied his young wife and searched her countenance for any hint of what he should do next.
"I'll alert your father." He firmly stated, beginning to lower her onto the soft mattress.
"No—" Elizabeth's tone was halting and meek. The look of fear in her eyes brought him back to their childhood together, and he could not help but want to protect her. He paused for only a second and took a breath. He couldn't clear his head long enough to think it through. He wanted to protect her, to help…All the same, what could he do for a woman who didn't want him?
"Please, Will." She asked quickly, "don't leave me."
"I'll return." He stated briskly, brushing her forehead with his finger. Will stood to leave, but was stopped as he heard a sharp intake of breath behind him. Another contraction hit Elizabeth hard and the pain showed visibly on her face. Reaching out her hand, she looked to Will for support. He grabbed it without hesitation, kneeling on the floor beside her, both knowing that they had reached only the beginning of a long night.
The wave of pain visibly passed over Elizabeth and it was several more seconds and a lifetime of waiting before she could look back at him without wincing. When she did, there were tears flowing freely down her cheeks.
"I'm sorry." She spoke softly, never letting go of Will's hand. "I am."
"Don't be." Will looked to Elizabeth for any clues as to what she was apologizing for. As the precious moments ticked by, none came.
"That's not it, Will." Was all she spoke, covering her mouth as she choked out a sob. She wanted so badly to let him know, to find a way to tell him. Heaviness ripped at Elizabeth's heart as she lay, waiting for more pain to come. "The midwife."
He nodded in response and stood slowly, waiting once again for a reason not to go. After a moment's hesitation Will walked out the door, leaving Elizabeth alone with her thoughts.
Moving briskly into the hallway of the great home, Will slammed the door against the wall next to it, startling the maid who had been attempting to discreetly listen in on their argument. The young woman's eyes grew wide as she turned away and pretended to be devoutly interested in the state of dust on the hall table. In no way fooled by the woman's façade, Will reached for her shoulder, only glad that he could find help so quickly.
"I'm sorry sir, I was only trying to give this table—" the young woman began, looking at the floor as she made excuses.
"Run to the midwife." Will spoke, not even recognizing the maid's words.
"Sir?"
"My child will be born with or without a midwife." He emphasized, looking the girl straight in the eyes. "Your choice." His tone never reached that of scorn or admonition but was urgent all the same. The maid's frightened eyes stood unblinking as she curtsied and scooted away.
One task completed, Will stopped and ran his fingers through his hair, taking a moment to breathe. As he did, the young man heard heavier footsteps approach him from behind. Waiting until they slowed and eventually halted close behind him, Will turned, the adrenaline in his body preparing him for a fight.
The unwigged, wide-eyed Governor, dressed only in a nightgown, caught Will more off guard than any formidable foe could have.
"Governor." He stated curtly, waiting for the elder of the two to speak first.
"Mr. Turner. I did hear a door slam, did I not?" The man was clearly out of sorts and less than happy to have been woken up in the middle of his night's rest. "And now I find you lurking outside of my daughter's room and a maid frightened half out of her wits. Do you care to explain?"
"I sent her to the midwife."
"The midwife—" the tired man put two and two together the best he could, "is everything alright?"
"If you'll excuse me Governor, my wife is having our child." Will was abrupt, further unsettling Governor Swann and causing him to shout after his retreating son in law.
"Where are you going?" His surprised voice sounded through the hall. "It is not suitable for a man to be present at the birth of his child!"
"Elizabeth is in pain." Will took a threatening step towards her father. "And until help arrives, I am not leaving her side."
With that, Will disappeared into Elizabeth's room, and left the Governor standing in the dimly lit hall. A cross look lit upon his face as his eyebrows furrowed closer together. It would be much more difficult to enact his plan if he couldn't get the boy out of the room, he considered seriously.
Weatherby Swann stared down the hallway to where his all too improper son in law had vanished and sighed deeply. Though it would be more difficult than he had originally thought, the man knew he would find a way to help his daughter. Even if it was at the expense of Will Turner.
Elizabeth had lived in the hot Caribbean since she was a girl. Her blood had long since thinned out, allowing her to adjust to the intense temperatures and humidity her home could allow. Never once in her many years living in Port Royal, however, had Elizabeth remembered sweating this much. Her brow was wet with perspiration and every nerve in her body burned like it was on fire. Screaming, she tried to gain an outlet for the pain.
Dim light reflected in Elizabeth's eyes, adding to the sensory overload she was already experiencing. Her eyes darted quickly from one wall to another, to the woman standing between her legs, to the window, to the door. In all the sights, Elizabeth could not find a familiar face when all she wanted was the comforting hand of—of whichever man would willingly give it.
She panted for air, glad to be done with another contraction. Hours had passed since the first moment she had grabbed onto Will and pleaded for help. Hours. And the midwife assured her she had even more to endure.
"Where is he?" the feverish woman asked to no one in particular.
"Your husband is right outside the door, darling." The older woman spoke in a matter of fact tone, more a statement of truth than of comfort. "He will see you and your babe soon enough."
In her mind's eye she could picture Will outside of the door, sitting on the floor or pacing through the empty hall. She could see the worry on his face and the tension in his muscles. And then she saw Jack, languidly leaning against the wall, hardly a care in the world. Elizabeth shook her head fiercely. No.
'No, that's not right.' She corrected. Jack would be worried for her too, he would feel just as much concern, and would not be nearly as concerned about propriety. He would be there holding her hand. He would. Elizabeth could see the pirate next to her, holding her hand, stroking her brow, whispering encouraging words in her ear. As a fresh contraction began to roll upon her body, a nagging doubt escaped its cage, flying into her conscious thought.
If Jack would do that for her, why wasn't he with her now?
Elizabeth screamed.
"Mr. Turner, you can come in now." The midwife's snowy white head peeked out of the door as she wiped her bloody hands on a cloth she was holding. "Be quiet though, Mrs. Turner is resting."
Will slowly picked his tired form up off of the floor and walked into the room in a trance. In the hours it had taken for the child to come into the world, he had had a lot of time to think. To count. To recount. To doubt, assure, and reassure himself. And now, at the end of his exile, Will Turner was almost entirely certain he knew the answer.
Following the small woman's gesturing arm, he stepped into his wife's bedroom. Greeted by the light of pale morning, the sound of the ocean, and the picture in front of him, Will simply stopped moving. After hours of his own anguish, he had been sure that the first view of the child would provide some incriminating evidence. But, to his surprise, when his eyes lit upon his wife and the baby in her arms, no alarms sounded. Elizabeth was lying back on a number of pillows, propped up in bed. Her face was pale and her eyelids low as she held her child.
"Go on, lad." The voice of the amused midwife goaded behind him, "Hold your son."
"Son?" He mumbled in an uncertain tone.
The midwife merely shook her head and continued her tasks, pulling miscellaneous objects into a large carpetbag. "Quick, this one." She spoke under her breath, intentionally letting Will hear.
Swallowing his expectations, Will lamely reached out towards the peaceful figures. "May I?" he fumbled.
Elizabeth looked up at him briefly, allowing her husband to see the full toll the birth had taken on her. Bags sat under her eyes and her pale skin had a yellowish hew to it. Though slightly taken back, Will gently took the child from her hands. Awkward as he was, he held the baby in strong arms, cradling his head carefully.
A lump began to form in Will's throat as he held the child. Every expectation he had formed in the hallway was shattered in one look from the infant. Strangely, the baby did not cry, but only looked sleepily into the face of the man holding him.
"His eyes are blue." The statement was not a question, but a surprised observation.
"All babies' eyes are blue at birth." Came the response from the other end of the room, though Will did not hear it. He was transfixed by the small child, staring intently into his dark eyes, color of the deep sea.
He did not see Jack in them.
For that matter, he did not see himself either.
Will had half anticipated to see an obvious indication. A baby with dreadlocks, or a bottle of rum in his hand. 'Perhaps not that obvious,' he thought, 'but something.' The child cooed in his arms and closed his eyes, curling towards the warmth of Will's chest.
"Disarming, isn't he?" The weak voice floated from Elizabeth's tired body, not worrying anyone nearly as much as it should have.
"Yes." Will responded, smiling to himself.
The new mother looked through half lidded eyes at her husband and son standing together. The child looked so perfect in his arms, so comfortable. Her heart jumped for the hundredth time in as many seconds at the sight of the baby she had brought into the world. And, holding her son, Elizabeth had to admit that Will looked as though he had finally found his destiny.
Sadly, she was about to tear it all to pieces.
"Will—" Elizabeth began carefully, the burden of ill news heavy in her voice.
"Shh, Elizabeth." He gestured to the sleeping infant, using him as an excuse for one more moment of ignorant bliss. He breathed in deeply and handed the child back to his mother, looking into her worried eyes as he resigned himself to what he knew to be the truth.
"Just as well." He covered, "The world hardly needs another William Turner."
Elizabeth closed her eyes tightly for a moment, and a single tear fell through her eyelashes and ran down her face. Her breathing was ragged and shallow and the baby began to squirm as he sensed his mother's unease.
"I'm sorry." Child in her arms, Elizabeth raised her head to see Will turn away quickly, hiding his face. Her honey eyes grew distant and began to cross as her head fell back towards the ceiling. Her grasp weakened and the child now rested on her lap, crying unhappily. At the new sound, Will turned his head to see the blood seeping into the white sheets around Elizabeth's legs.
"Elizabeth!" he frantically yelled, reaching towards her unconscious body. "Can you hear me?"
A bustle of activity began around Will as he stared at Elizabeth, waiting for a response. Before he knew it, he was once again forced out of the room and into the hallway to await whatever hand would be dealt to him. In a flash the heavy green door opened and the child, swaddled tightly, was placed in Will's arms. The midwife's white head peered out to quickly admonish him before rushing back to her patient.
"Mind the babe."
Gosh, cliffhanger again. Oops! The plot I had originally meant for this chapter looks as though it's going to be broken up into about four more chapters. This is mainly due to the fact that I seem to have an issue rushing through plot points and rather like to drag them out to an agonizing point. Sorry. Well, at least you got a good length chapter for your trouble. And you finally know who the father is! If you're confused, just let me know. And Erika, if you're reading this, I'm sure your birth will be much easier than this one was. Right. slinks away quietly