Disclaimer: By the reasoning of my last disclaimer, I own small portions of the following people due to the fact that I frighten my dad by unconsciously copying their accents, key phrases and head movements, but nobody inform the lawyers, please: Apollo (Battlestar Galactica), Grissom (CSI), Aragorn (LotR), Pippin (LotR), Peter (KF: TLC), Kermit (KF: TLC), Scott (X-Men), Logan (X-Men), Ororo (X-Men), Luke (Star Wars), Han (Star Wars), Leia (Star Wars) . . .The list will continue at a later date unless people are annoyed by it.
AN: God hates me. Really, he does. I guess he's decided that there isn't much more that he can do to my family at the moment, so he's turned to my few possessions. I have a bookmark collection. Correction. Better get used to saying had a bookmark collection. I am also addicted to caffeine. I keep my bookmark collection on my desk. I made the mistake of putting my current can of Coke down on said desk while I looked for clothes to wear for my senior pics. I then answer my mom's bellow for help in defrosting the freezers. When I return to my room, evil cat—cat, mind you, supposedly the most agile of creatures—is jumping at the window above my desk. What remained in my Coke is soaking all over my bookmark collection. The only thing that saved evil cat from immediate transformation into dead cat was the fact that a) she runs faster than I do and can fit into smaller spaces and b) my LotR's bookmarks were currently in use in books, so none of them were injured. The entire rest of my collection is now sandwiched between paper towels which are sandwiched between the yearbooks for Funk and Wagnall's New Encyclopedia which have the rest of the encyclopedia sitting on top of them which are capped by all other books that I could find in my room, including all the library books with the LotR's bookmarks, in the hopes that some of my bookmarks might be salvageable. Ha ha. I told my mother and her very caring response is, "You shouldn't have soda in your room." That is why I am rambling on here and probably both boring and annoying all my readers. Okay. Continuing on to the plot. By the way, thanks for reviews.
Trust Me Still
Part 11
Jack slowly tilted his head around until the raider was within his line of sight again while most of his body was still shielded by the rocks that lined the edges of the cliffs near the cave entrance. The night itself, split by the intermittent light of a half-moon as it danced behind clouds, offered a further impenetrable blanket of anonymity . . .or so he hoped.
The raider continued to scan the area in front of him, both land and sea, apparently watching for any ships to enter the natural harbor that had formed at this end of the island. No guards had been set on the far side of the island, where Jack and his small party had landed, more than likely because no large ship could come anywhere near shore. The pirate was almost surprised that they had made it to shore, boy and all.
That wasn't entirely fair, though. Since telling them that his sister was on the island, the boy had behaved himself splendidly, and Jack had made certain that he understood exactly what the rescue mission entailed from him—silence until he was spoken to if he wished to have his father and his sister back.
The raider looked impatiently into the cave entrance behind him, apparently waiting to be relieved. That would never do. Men were always more awake at the beginning of a watch.
Jack pulled his head back and motioned for the people behind him to stay put before slipping as cautiously as he could around the rock and towards the raider.
All he needed was time for one good shot at the man's neck . . .
Jack swept his sword into the arc, preparing his arms for the jolt as the sword struck flesh and bone . . .a jolt that never came.
He cursed quietly as the clang of metal striking metal rang on the air. The raider growled at him before disengaging
his blade and moving into a flurry of attacks that Jack parried quickly.
Jack grinned at the man, moving into his own attack, watching carefully for an opening that would allow him to sever the man's neck, listening all the while for the sound of the relief that the sentry had been waiting for.
Stepping forward, the pirate slashed his blade across his opponent's sword arm before reversing the swing in an attempt at the neck. Pain seared across the pirate's upper right arm, informing him in no uncertain terms that his gambit had failed.
Jack yelped in surprise and shock as the sting of the blade turned to a burning sensation that quickly engulfed his entire arm and shoulder. No wonder Elizabeth had seemed so shaky after being cut by one of their weapons. It was just as bad as when Almorte had cut him with his own sword after heating it until the metal glowed red-hot. The thought of poison on the blades entered Jack's mind, but he quickly shoved it away as the raider pressed his advantage, forcing the pirate captain to retreat.
Jack felt the edge of the rock graze his back as the raider bore down on him again, nearly knocking the sword from the pirate's hand with the force of his blows. The pirate needed a chance to back away, to switch his sword to his other hand, but he wasn't getting a chance to do much of anything save keep himself from getting cut again. His arm throbbed with each beat of his heart.
He stared in shock as the raider's head separated itself from the man's body seemingly of its own volition. His eyes followed both as they crumpled to the ground. Looking back up, he grinned at Ana-Maria as she wiped the edge of her blade on her pant leg.
"Took you long enough, love."
"I thought you didn't need any help, Jack. This was a one-person job, remember?"
Jack's knees decided that it was time to sit down before he could think of a comeback.
Ana-Maria was at his side in an instant, pulling his jacket down and ripping his shirt away from the wound. "Oh, Jesus and Mary, you said you'd be careful."
"I was careful."
Elizabeth appeared over Ana-Maria's shoulder, the boy standing at her side. "What's wrong?"
"I don't know. It doesn't look like poison—no swelling, no red lines snaking out, no smell."
"'T burns . . ." Jack winced as Ana-Maria prodded at the wound gently. She turned to Elizabeth.
"What did it feel like when you were cut?"
"Odd. It burned some, I guess, but not so badly that I couldn't ignore it."
"Maybe because this is their home and they're closer together than in the raid . . ."
"Or maybe they've got themselves a stronger member. We have to keep going. We won't get another chance." Jack struggled back to his feet.
"You can barely walk. This is suicide, Jack. If you're right, then Jacob was right, and we can't help him anymore. Let it go."
"There's still the girl. Lad, can you still feel her? Your sister? Can you lead us there?"
The boy stared from his mother to the pirate captain before nodding.
"Then let's go. Help me drag this guy out of the way—someone grab his head. We don't have much time." Jack moved to follow his own words only to be shoved back down by the two women.
"Rest while you can. There'll be more of them, I'm sure." Ana-Maria grabbed the body by the legs and quickly moved it out of sight. Elizabeth followed, dangling the man's still-dripping head by its hair about a foot in front of her.
Within two minutes the small group had entered the caves, amazed that no one had come to investigate yet, and were following the small boy as he hesitated at each branching of the passageway before choosing his path. Jack fell back to the rear, holding his right arm close against his side, his sword grasped in his left hand.
Fifteen tension-filled minutes later, the boy stopped in front of a bolted door.
The small boy knelt and attempted to peer through the crack between the door and the floor. "Ana? Anny? It's Jack."
Scuffling sounds came from within the cell.
"Ana, I'm here to rescue you. I brought Mama and Aunt Ana-Maria and Uncle Jacky."
Jack found himself smiling at the pride in the boy's voice.
"Jack? Jack, is that really you?" The girl's voice was incredibly soft and tear-choked.
Elizabeth wasted no more time in opening the door and rushing to her daughter.
"Mama! Mama! Jack!" The girl held as tightly as she could to her family, tears flowing from her brown eyes.
"Hush, baby, it's okay, mama's here. Ana . . ." Elizabeth pulled away slightly so she could look her daughter in the eye. "Ana, this is important. Have you seen your father?"
The girl cried harder. "He told me to go away. He told me to keep away from him." Elizabeth held the girl close again, her own heart filling with a mix of despair, rage and grief. The man she had fallen in love with would never have said such a thing to their daughter. Whatever he was now, he was no longer her Will.
Jack felt his fingers tighten on the hilt of his sword . . .the sword Will had made for him.
Fit for a king and given freely to a pirate. I didn't deserve it, Will. I still don't.
You do deserve it, Jack. I made it for you, and that's all the proof you should need that you deserve it.
Jack spoke quietly. "What did he look like?"
The girl stared at the pirate, a puzzled expression on her face. "Like Papa."
"Did he seem . . .different?"
"He talked to himself. He kept saying 'no'. He looked sort of sick when he left, and there were red spots on his shirt right . . .here." The girl pointed to a spot nearly directly above her heart.
The burning in his arm increased and the pirate leaned against the wall until the threat of falling unconscious had passed.
He looked sick . . .did that mean that Will was fighting . . .whatever they had done to him?
The sound of footsteps and yelling echoed faintly down the corridor. The three adults stared at one another for a moment before Elizabeth and Ana-Maria each grabbed a child and bolted out the door to the cell, retracing their steps to the entrance.
Jack followed for a few feet, slowed, stopped, and turned to look back down the corridor.
"Jack, come on! Jack, he's gone!" Ana-Maria hissed the words in a whisper that still carried to the pirate. "You promised me that you'd survive!"
"Go on, love. I can't keep up with you. Take the children and get out of here. I'll distract them, and if I can I'll meet you later."
"Jack, please . . ."
"Uncle Jacky, come." The boy motioned from his perch in the female pirate's arms.
"I can't, lad. There's still someone else that I owe. Now run, before we're all caught. That would definitely not make this night any happier."
The sound of voices was now echoing through the corridor along with the footsteps.
The female pirate hesitated a moment longer. "Good luck, Jack." Ana-Maria turned and sprinted after Elizabeth, who was waiting further along the dimly lit corridor.
Jack watched them disappear before turning to search for his own spot to wait in. He had every intention of rejoining Ana-Maria and the Turner family later.
He just wanted them to be prepared if he couldn't.
* * *
Will slumped back in the chair, watching the rest of men . . .
Your brothers . . .Nerla hissed in his mind.
The rest of the men drink, eat, and play cards in the same room where he had been stabbed, now filled with tables and chairs. Several of the groups had offered to let him join, but he had politely declined. He would rather watch than participate, though he would actually rather not watch at all, but every time he went to leave the room the bloody sword would start talking again.
Marcus was wrong. He would never get used to a sword that read his thoughts and responded, usually with advice to do the exact opposite of what Will wished.
He could name more of the raiders now. Marcus, Daniel, Aaron, Paul, Stefan and James played cards at one end of the room. Jason, Gregory, Alex and Francis played at the other end. Coram was passed out by the wall between the two poles where Will had been suspended, a bottle of rum still clutched in one hand. Gilbert was on guard duty, watching for any ships that might have been giving chase, and Ralph was supposed to relieve him soon, though it seemed unlikely, as the man was getting incredibly drunk with Dean at the moment. Will wondered vaguely if the curse . . .
Blessing . . .
Would keep them from getting a hangover tomorrow. He waited a few heartbeats, but Nerla didn't answer, and he relaxed even more.
Suddenly Will doubled over as pain exploded throughout his body again, moving from his neck through his chest and head. He was vaguely aware of men cursing and crying out as he struggled to breath.
A heavy hand clamped on his shoulder, hauling him back into a seated position.
"Easy, lad, breath. That's it." Will drew quick, shuddering breaths as the pain eased somewhat.
"What's happening?"
"Someone's on the island. They've killed Gilbert."
Will stared up at the man, who was pale and shaking. "How do you know?"
"I've felt this before, brother. It never gets easier, but you can work around it, and it's better during the raids, when blood's running high."
Pain still beat in a steady throb through Will's head, neck and chest.
"When's it stop hurting?"
"When we replace him. Come on, lad. We need to go see what's happening."
Will stood and shook himself, realizing that he and Marcus were the only two left in the room. He sprinted after the once-soldier as the man led the way towards the entrance.
They found the rest of the brotherhood milling in a circle not far from the cell where Ana was being held, swords drawn, cursing a figure in the center that Will couldn't see clearly through the press of bodies. He followed Marcus as the big man shoved his way to the front of the crowd and stopped in shock as he identified the man.
The pirate held his sword in his left hand, his right clenched tightly to his body, the sleeve of his jacket shiny with a liquid that could only be blood. His hat had fallen off, displaying the red bandana that he wore over his beaded hair. He grinned fiercely as he turned in a circle, lashing out at anyone that came too close, but Will could see the tension in his body and the slight trembling that displayed both exhaustion and trepidation, as the pirate would never admit to being afraid.
"Gentle now, brothers, we need him alive."
Will stared at Marcus in alarm. They were going to take Jack Sparrow, the man who valued his freedom so highly that he was practically married to his ship and refused to accept a letter of marque, and they were going to turn him into a monster like them? They would do to him as they had done to Will himself, so that even the pirate's thoughts wouldn't be entirely his own?
No. Will had bought the pirate's freedom twice and his sanity once. He would see him dead before he allowed that to happen. Jack was a friend, a good friend, but after all they had been through with Barbosa, Almorte, and just normal life in the past eight years, he was so much more than that.
Jack was family.
"Family." Will whispered the word once, testing Nerla's reaction. Receiving none, he grabbed Marcus's shoulder and yelled the word so that all of the brotherhood could hear. "Family! He's family. He belongs to me."
Marcus turned to him, a frown on his face, and nodded briefly before stepping back into the circle. On the other side of the circle, Daniel moved to step forward, his mouth opening as if in protest, but someone held him back.
Jack stared at Will, his dark eyes questioning, searching for answers. Will stared back, waiting, waiting . . .
Nerla was in his hand quicker than he would have believed humanly possible. Staring at the pirate, Will hissed in wordless rage and anger. The man had invaded their home, killed a brother, threatened more of them, still brandished a sword despite the fact that he had no chance of winning, and sought to draw Will away from his rightful place.
For those transgressions, he would die.
The loose circle opened as Will attacked, the brotherhood watching silently, awaiting the outcome of the final test of their new member, already knowing what it would be.
Within minutes, Will Turner would be completely and totally theirs.
End Note:
Don't be chronologically confused. The Will part of the chapter partially overlaps the Jack part of the chapter, I just didn't feel like making them two chapters. The brotherhood feels Gilbert die when Ana-Maria cuts his head off, it just takes a bit for them to get over it, figure out where to go, and finally catch Jack.
Response to Common Review Questions:
When Marcus keeps saying 'core of iron', he means that Will's spirit is incredibly strong. Will still hasn't completely accepted Nerla, but he's close enough to it that the sword can heal him as well as control him to a large degree by tying him to the brotherhood and otherwise invading his mind. If he completely accepts the sword, it will become more of a symbiotic relationship than a possession, but most of what makes him Will would be lost, which is considered a bad thing.
Marcus is one of the original brotherhood, and he had a family, but he hasn't seen them since before he went to India.
The curse is all mine.