Disclaimer: I own my pen-name for this story and that's about it, though the characters still own me . . .
AN: Watching brothers. Seeing grandma. Dreading band camp as well as living it (our school is too poor this year to go away). Writing. Reading reviews. Sleeping somewhere in there. Welcome to my world.
A Taste of Misery
Part 23
Elizabeth watched the pirate from the doorway, studiously working on something, though he had placed his body in such a way so that what it was would not be obvious from either the house or the road what he held in his hand.
Despite all her admonitions to Will about being patient and healing taking time, she was beginning to lose hope—and patience—herself.
It had been two-and-a-half weeks since the day that Will gave the pirate the sword.
In that time, the bandages had slowly disappeared, until the only one left was a light brace for his right wrist, and even that wasn't really necessary anymore.
Every day Jack would practice with the sword, dueling with Will if he was home, dueling with shadows if he wasn't. Every day he would spend at least an hour out here, doing something by himself, though Elizabeth wasn't sure what it was.
He would do anything Elizabeth or Will asked of him.
But he hadn't spoken again.
And he was running out of time. Will said that the Pearl would be back in less than a week.
Then the governor had summoned both Will and Norrington to his home office for a meeting, and Elizabeth feared what this portended for the pirate.
"Jack." The pirate scrambled to his feet, placing whatever he had been working on into a pouch at his belt before sauntering over to her, his head cocked inquiringly.
"Jack, Will's worried about you. I'm worried about you. The Pearl is going to be here soon, and—" Elizabeth stopped, placing a hand on her abdomen. "And—"
Elizabeth let out a small cry of pain and surprise as a clear fluid suddenly gushed from between her legs. The maid had appeared at her side before Jack could get over his shock and make a move.
"Hush now, m'lady, it's only the water breaking. Come inside and sit down." She guided Elizabeth inside and to a chair before rounding on the pirate, a hint of fear on her face.
"You run and get her husband and the mid-wife. Go on! I know ye can understand me, and if her estimates are right then the child is early!" Jack didn't move. "Go on! I can stay and help her—what can you do here? Go on! Do ye want more innocent blood on your hands?!" A note of hysteria was beginning to creep into the woman's whispered voice.
Jack turned and ran as if all the demons of hell were on his tail.
* * *
The pirate rushed into the governor's house, knocking the butler over in his haste before rushing up the stairs to the governor's home office.
Four pairs of eyes turned to stare at him as he dashed into the room without knocking.
"Will . . ." His voice was ragged and hoarse.
"Jack? Jack, what's wrong?" The pirate stood silently for what seemed to Will to be a small eternity. "Jack, is something wrong with Elizabeth?" Will restrained the urge to reach out and shake the man.
The pirate closed his eyes tightly and a shudder coursed through the length of his body.
When he opened them again, Will stepped backward in shock. The pirate's entire bearing had changed.
His eyes were no longer flat and disinterested, focused on something that Will couldn't see, or pained and fearful, but carried a sharp, piercing glance.
He still slouched, but it wasn't the world-weary expression that it had been before.
It was the natural posture of Captain Jack Sparrow, pirate extraordinaire.
"It seems the opportune moment has arrived, lad. She's having your child now. I don't know where the midwife lives in Port Royal—ye might want to send someone to fetch her."
Will stood silently staring at the pirate. Then with deft fingers he untied the small rawhide pouch that he had carried at his belt for nearly two months and tossed it to Jack.
"In case of miracles."
Jack opened the pouch and grinned.
Then the reality of what Jack had said registered in Will's mind.
"Oh, God, I have to get home. Governor, Commodore, Brian, I'm sorry, we can continue this discussion later . . ."
He was out the door before anyone could respond.
Jack leant back against the wall, breathing heavily from the run.
"Brian, go and fetch the midwife, please, and send her to the Turner's residence. Then return here."
The young redcoat nodded and moved to obey the Commodore's order, staring hard at Jack as he left.
"Mr. Sparrow, I trust you will be returning to the Turner's residence." Norrington also stared hard at the pirate.
"Aye, sir, though I expect the boy's going to beat me by quite a bit."
Jack straightened and moved to leave the room, unnerved by the close examinations he was receiving.
"Mr. Sparrow—congratulations on your . . .recovery."
Jack turned and grinned at the commodore, sweeping a small bow before sauntering out of the room and back down the stairs at a more sedate pace.
