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Chapter two: Evil Jack and Quiet Will.

Later that day, when the normally raucous crew of the Pearl were rioting around the ship, only a deathly silence hung. 'Captain Jack was in a bad mood' they said. 'Poor little Turner lad been done in, and the Captain 'ent too happy about it.'

In the captain's quarters, Jack was pacing around the room, unusually sober, with a concerned look on his face. Will was lying in the bed, still unconscious. Gibbs had returned from the depths of wherever he had been, (with a distinct lack of rum and a hefty sum of cash- Jack noticed unhappily) as soon as he had heard the news, and was tending to Will's gashes and bruises. Things had spread around the port pretty quickly, that one of Jack Sparrow's crew had been attacked, and that the angry captain was seeking revenge on the bilge rat who had dared cross him. No quarter. No mercy.

Jack Sparrow was angry. Furious, even. And after his tell-tale stories and numerous adventures, Captain Jack was not one to argue against. Not even the toughest pirate dared to poke fun at the captain, not prepared to face his…'unruly wrath'. All in all, however, Jack was one of the most mild mannered pirates in the Spanish main, but he did nothing to stop the rumours spreading of his dangerous nature. Publicity, that was.

He was now one of the most famous men to ever pirate a ship, taking on a whole galleon of undead pirates and defeating them single-handedly, while his crew -and Will- stood by and watched their captain fight to the bitter end. Then of course, Jack had swept little William off his feet and they had sailed off into the sunset together.

Or so the stories said. Will hadn't felt like taking any of the credit, and had left Jack to weave his own net of lies, trapping any pirate who was stupid enough to listen. And because the lad hadn't objected, as well as the rest of the crew, Jack's word had been believed and his reputation had risen by a fair amount.

A sudden wave of nausea flooded through Jack's mind, and his feet stumbled as he tried to get a grip on himself. He let out a variety of different curses, as he tripped over his protruding appendages and fell, hitting his chin off the table. Gibbs, who had been keeping a careful eye on the day-dreaming man, chuckled. The captain was still clumsy even when he was sober. Getting up, and lending his hand to Jack, he pulled the other pirate into a standing position.

"Go an' get some kip Cap'n. Yer doin' the lad no 'arm by restin'. Yer look ready t' collapse." He said gently, and gave the younger pirate a shove towards the door.

"Go an' sleep in the lad's room." He muttered, and promptly shut the door in his captain's face. Jack frowned. It was raining. He was getting decidedly wet. He should move.

Grudgingly, he shifted his weight into his feet and walked the short path towards the first mate's room. Will's room. Well, the place where he was supposed to sleep. Everyone on the ship knew that Will spent each night in his captain's arms, but none of them commented on it. That popularity thing again. Swinging the door open with a sharp kick, Jack sauntered over to the bed, eyes starting to droop, and fell in an untidy heap onto the boy's bed.

What was it about worry that caused you to feel tired all the time? Jack felt exhausted, even though he had only been up a few hours at the most. Curling the blankets around his body, he took a deep breath. He could still catch Will's scent on them, though it was faint. Closing his eyes, he tried to sleep. Every time he felt himself drifting off, he saw pictures of William's chocolaty-brown eyes, widened in fear and helplessness, which brought him back to the lad's current dilemma, which happened to wake him up again thoroughly. He could not wait until this entire thing had blown over and his William was safely back in his arms.

Turning over, Jack cursed softly under his breath and opened his eyes. Over the other side of the small room was a mirror. The captain sighed as he realised that the kohl smeared around his eyes had been smudged. Bringing a dirty hand up to his face, he felt something he had not felt since he was a lad.

He had been crying.

Across the ship, Gibbs had finished checking over Will for any more bruises or wounds, and was now tucking him into the bed, under the covers. It had utterly astounded the elderly pirate. How could someone hurt a lad as innocent looking as this one? Smiling wryly, he knew well enough that William Turner junior was no innocent young man, considering the things he had heard over the various nights after sleeping in the room next to the lad and his lover. A small sound erupted from the bed, causing Gibbs to turn around. Will was sitting up, somewhat stiffly, and looked completely baffled as to where he was.

"Alrigh' now Will?" he asked kindly. The boy, noticing him, forced a smile and gingerly brought a hand up to his temple, where a bandage had been applied to the large wound there. Wincing, the boy nodded shakily. No sound was made. Gibbs frowned. Surely the whelp would have wanted to know how he had gotten into the bed and why he was there in the first place. Right?

Letting out a soft sigh, the pup slid back down into the soft haven of Jack's bed, and sighed peacefully.

"I'm safe here." It wasn't a statement, much rather a question, one Gibbs wasn't sure how to answer. At the lack of response from the elder pirate, Will elaborated.

"He can't hurt me here, can he?" Gibbs moved over towards the bed. The boy shrank back unconsciously, though an uncertain smile played on his face. Sitting down on a lush chair next to the bed, Gibbs leaned towards Will, and his eyes strayed to the lad's gashed temple.

"Who can' hurt yer 'ere Will? Who was it that hurt yer before, lad?" he asked gently, taking Will's hands in one of his own. The whelp seemed comforted by the touch, but he shook his head and smiled sadly again. Gibbs nodded and sighed. Understandable, that the lad wasn't ready to talk yet. Glancing back at the young pirate, he noticed that he was trying to get comfortable, comfortable enough to sleep.

He arranged the pillows and blankets (and there was enough of them for three beds) in an assortment around Will's back, and sighed. The poor kid had fallen asleep already. Gibbs had his suspicions about the night before, but he kept them mostly to himself. If he was right, however, the captain would not be very happy with that person in particular.

Gibbs liked Will. The lad seemed like the son he'd never had, and never would have. He'd taken him under his wing and taught him everything from The Code to how to tie knots to mending the sails after a particularly rough storm. To think that someone had the guts to come and hurt him in that way, if Gibbs was right in what he was accusing the man of, on Jack's ship, with two pirates on board nearby, and Jack himself couldn't have been far away either, considering that he always drank in pubs close to the Pearl, making sure that he could keep at least one eye on his love. Normally had Will by his side, but the lad had obviously gone wandering about by himself, and landed himself into trouble.

Now, as he watched the child sleep, he wondered how it was that someone could force the innocence out of a boy so pure hearted. How could someone hurt the poor lad? The man who did it must have had a heart of stone to scare the lad. Because that's all he was. A child. Not even in his twenties yet, according to Jack.

That's when he decided, whoever had hurt the boy would pay. With his life.