Disclaimer:  I now own twenty-three dead guys (the pictures on the wall keep insisting that the lawyers will flip if I claim Jack or Will), one broken curse, and two live children . . .or are they alive?

AN:  This was originally supposed to go with the last chapter—I did not mean to leave it on a cliffhanger like that one, though I note that the responses were . . .interesting.  Real life just reared its ugly head and interfered, in the form of offering sanctuary and having to cut those beach-noodle-things in half for a game for freshman orientation.

Trust Me Still

Part 14

Will closed his eyes, prolonging the moments when he could still hope, knowing in his head that the pirate was dead, still wishing in his heart that maybe, just maybe . . .

"It wasn't my choice . . ."  Will stared up at the ceiling, teeming with shadows, faint echoes of his voice bouncing back at him almost mockingly.

Oh, God, if he could have just one more miracle in his life . . .

Steeling himself, he looked down at the entrance wound, caked with dried, drying, and still-liquid blood.  Finding a not-too-bloody spot on his own shirt, he gently scraped away as much as he could . . .

And stared in open wonder, barely restraining his hand from reaching out to touch the pirate's chest, fearful of breaking whatever magic or curse or blessing or miracle it was that worked before him.

Fresh blood trickled from the wound as the tissue slowly re-grew, closing the injury from the inside out.

Perhaps it was just Nerla's work coming undone, leaving Will with a corpse that was cleansed of darkness's touch but still a corpse . . .

Or perhaps, just perhaps, it was more.

Will knelt by the pirate, clasping one of his limp, ring-bedecked hands gently, the warmth of the other man's flesh giving him a small measure of comfort, a connection at least to almost-life in the house of death.

Seconds passed slowly as more and more fresh blood seeped onto the pirate's chest, some of it falling onto Will's hands, before the stream slowed to a trickle and finally stopped again.

Will's shoulders slumped and his head dipped down in silent despair as no further action seemed to be forthcoming from the pirate captain.

A small hiss of indrawn air brought the blacksmith's head up sharply, but before he could think to move the pirate had already sprung to his feet, his left leg buckling and sending him down to the ground again, muttering a string of curses and pleas in broken English and at least one foreign language that Will didn't understand.

Will moved quickly in front of the pirate, grabbing his shoulder with one hand.

"Jack, it's all right now, it's all over, it's me, it's Will, really me, Jack, just me . . ."

The pirate continued to mutter to himself, his breathing almost too rapid for Will to follow, and Will's heart dropped.  Jack Sparrow always seemed to tread a fine line between sanity and insanity, and being killed by a friend and then resurrected probably wasn't the most stabilizing thing in the world.

Will placed his hands on either side of the pirate captain's face, locking his steady brown eyes on the pirate's panicked ones as he had seen Ana-Maria do when Jack was half-mad after Almorte had tortured him.

"Jack . . .it's all right.  It's over."

The pirate stared back at him, the panic and confusion dropping away slowly, and Will allowed his hands to fall as the pirate's breathing quieted to something closer to normal.

"You killed me."

Will looked down at the ground.  "You're not dead now."

The pirate stared at his blood-soaked clothes, feeling his chest but finding no evidence of the injury.  "You're right.  I'm not dead."  He stared back at Will.  "Why am I not dead?"

"Because the pits of hell spat you back out?"

Both Will and Jack grinned, the tension easing somewhat.

"Seriously, lad, am I really still . . .me?  I'm not . . ."

"No, Jack.  Trust me, you would know if you were."

"And you're not . . ."

"Not anymore."

"Good.  Congratulations.  So, back to the major question.  Why am I still alive?"

"Marcus might have known, but . . ."  Will gestured towards the corpse propped against the wall.  "Will it make you feel better if I tell you that you were dead for a good amount of time?"

"Not really."  The pirate stared straight ahead for a moment, his eyes unfocused, and Will felt his heart lurch again.

"Jack?"

The pirate refocused his gaze.  "Hmmm?  You really did stab me, then."

"Not exactly.  You kind of fell into my blade."

"You had the blade at my chest and your friend shoved me from behind."

"He wasn't my friend, and he died a rather bloody and horrible death for it, if that makes you feel better."

"Not exceptionally, though I suppose that it is justice, and it means he'll never get another chance to come after me."  The pirate was silent for a moment.  "What was his name?"


Will frowned, not sure why the pirate captain would want to know.  "Daniel."

Jack nodded and spoke softly to himself.  "Of course.  I'll have to send a note to Jacob."

"Jack, are you really all right?"

The pirate's mouth quirked into an expression halfway between a grin and a grimace.  "No, actually, I seem to be having problems walking since somebody decided that I wasn't worthy of the blade they gave me and used a cursed one to cut open my leg."

Will stared at the pirate, misery evident on his face.  "I tried not to, Jack.  I tried to fight Nerla, but it was so bloody hard . . ."

The pirate leaned forward and pulled the younger man into an embrace that Will returned wholeheartedly, determined that he wasn't going to cry again.

"I know you tried, Will.  I told ye that before . . .ye know . . ."  The pirate pulled away again and staggered upright, careful to place all his weight on his right leg.  "Now come on, lad, let's find my sword and my hat and get out of here and you can tell me the whole story as we determine how we're getting off this bloody island."

Will quickly picked the sword up and handed it to the pirate, who stared slowly between the dried blood on the blade and Will.

"Are you certain . . .?"

"You bought back my soul, Jack.  I couldn't have found a worthier man for the blade . . .or the friendship."

Jack nodded and attempted to rub the worst of the blood off the sword before sheathing it again.

"All right, one down and one to go.  We find my hat and we get out of here, savvy?"

"Savvy on the get out of here, Jack.  I'm not so certain about the hat."

Will held up what seemed to be several scraps of faded blue cloth loosely tied together and liberally sprinkled with blood.  Jack stared at it a moment, his head tilted to one side.

"Fine then.  We get out of here and you buy me a new hat."

The ghost of a smile played over Will's face.  "A bigger one, Jack?"

The pirate grinned.  "No, lad, not bigger.  Just like that one . . .or rather, just like that one used to be."

"Fair enough.  Jack . . ."  Will half-feared to ask the question that had been on his mind.  "My family . . ."

"Safe on the Pearl, Will, and probably far away from this cursed place by now.  Let's go see what kind of sailing power we've got outside, shall we?"

Will nodded, pointing down the corridor in the direction that he thought led to outside.  Jack turned and started off down the corridor . . .or at least attempted to, his left leg buckling again.

"Y'know, if whoever—"  He gestured vaguely towards the ceiling, and Will found his eyes turning unwillingly towards where Marcus's bloody corpse still sat propped against the wall.  "Was going to heal my chest, they could have also fixed my leg and my arm, considering that all the damage was done by cursed blades."

"Would you rather they had you stay dead, Jack?  I know that I personally prefer injured and mortal to uninjured and possessed, and at least whoever had the decency to heal us this much."

Jack looked up sharply at Will's use of the word us.  "I'm sorry about your arm, Will."

"It's not too bad, Jack, and considering I was going for your neck, it's understandable."

The pirate nodded and again attempted to start down the corridor, staying upright only by using the wall as a support when his leg buckled again.

"Jack . . .lean on me?"  Will stepped towards the pirate, who seemed to oscillate a moment before finally nodding and half-stepping, half-falling into the blacksmith's strong hands.

Will drew the pirate's uninjured arm around his shoulder and supported the majority of his weight as they walked slowly away from the sight of their trial, skirting the bloody corpses of the brotherhood as they made their way towards the ship.