Disclaimer:  I'm tired of these . . .my brain is going to overheat if I have to write many more . . .must I admit that I don't owe them? . . .oden them? . . .*breathes deeply* . . .own them?

AN:  I have never been as furious with my computer as I was when I couldn't upload the last two chapters of my story when I got them done . . .and it wasn't even my poor computers fault!  Hell hath no fury like an author denied publishing . . .Again, thanks for the wishes for my family, and I'm spending all day with them and writing at night.  Also thanks for reviews.

A Taste of Misery

Part 21

Will gently slid the thin blade over the tawny-colored wood, pealing away a small piece.

He had never really wanted to learn to carve, but the governor had thought it somewhat more gentlemanly than blacksmithing, and it was something he could with his hands while he was at home.

The last week had been almost a let down after the hell of the two before it.  The pirate captain had mainly slept, not the heavy, uninterruptible sleep of unconsciousness that had claimed him during most of his illness but the sleep of the bitterly weary.

He also hadn't spoken a word.

Will had brought the point up with Elizabeth, who was growing heavier with child each day, but his simmering panic had been met with cool acceptance.

"He should have said something by now, Elizabeth!"

"Why?"  Will had stared at her in shock.  "Why should he have spoken?  Because you need the reassurance?"  She had moved over and enfolded him in as tight a hug as she could manage.

"He was hurt badly, Will, and not just physically.  We betrayed him, even if we didn't understand at the time what we were doing, and left him for Almorte to play with.  You told me that he had killed a child not long before this started.  He needs time, Will, but he'll work it out.  Jack's a strong man, a stubborn man.  He's eating and drinking and sleeping and shaving."

Will's jaw had dropped at the last part.  Elizabeth kissed him before squeezing his hands and moving away.

"He'll talk when he's ready, Will."

That had been the end of the conversation for Elizabeth, but though it helped assuage his fears somewhat, it hadn't laid any of them to a permanent rest.

He had begun to think like Ana-Maria did.  What if the crown replied before Jack was in any condition to run and the reply was to send him to the gallows yet again?  What if Norrington or the governor changed their mind?

He looked up from the wood and towards the pirate, who was now sitting cross-legged on the bed, staring back at Will.  Still clean-shaven and dressed in Will's old clothes, he still seemed vulnerable to the blacksmith . . .very vulnerable.  His wrist was bound tightly so that he couldn't moved it much, and bandages criss-crossed their way around his chest and down his arms, though there were fewer now than there had been before.

"It's a carving, Jack . . .or it's supposed to be, eventually.  I'm not very good at it, but the governor thought it would be at least slightly more gentlemanly than blacksmithing, and it is a bit easier to drag home than the . . .shop . . .he said that this would make a good bird, but I'm really not seeing it coming out here."

The pirate continued to stare at him, and Will thought . . .wished? . . .that he saw a flare of interest in the man's eyes.

Normally he would have expected a flippant comment, but he could handle interest at the moment.

He could handle just about anything but indifferent and flat at the moment.

He carried the piece of wood and the knife towards the cot, dragging a chair along behind him, and settled down into the chair quickly.

"Would you like to try, Jack?"  The pirate cocked his head slightly, and Will almost thought he could catch the ghost of a smile on the man's face.  "It's fairly simple, at least in principle."

He proceeded to demonstrate before handing the wood and knife over.

The pirate carefully turned the wood the way that he wanted it before settling it in his injured hand and closing his fingers around it as tightly as he could with his wrist wrapped.  Then he took the knife and with a few deft twitches of his uninjured wrist sent a small pile of shavings onto the floor before holding the wood out to Will again.

"Have you done this before?  An infamous pirate who can carve better than a blacksmith . . .what's next?"  Will accepted the wood and knife, carefully selecting his own place to carve and before returning the objects to the pirate.

He was almost certain that he had caught a smile on the other man's face that time.

The two continued to carve in silence for the next forty minutes, passing the wood slowly back and forth between them.  Will was fairly certain that he could see the wings and head of a bird beginning to take shape, a feat that amazed him.

Passing the wood back to the pirate, he frowned slightly as he saw the slight trembling of Jack's hands that betrayed exhaustion.

The pirate again carefully positioned the wood and prepared to slice off a few shavings, but even as he pressed down with the knife, his fingers loosened, and the wood slid off his hand onto the floor.

Will sat frozen for a moment as blood welled up, filling the pirate's cupped hand. 

"Oh, Jack . . ."

Gazing into the other man's eyes, he was shocked to see them alight with fear, pain and panic.

A moment later the pirate slumped forward into Will's arms, unconscious.