To Ease A Soul Chapter 1: One, a pirates of the caribbean fanfic

Name: Androgene

Title: To Ease A Soul

Summary: Will and Elizabeth are happily married but the past does not let go so easily. Strange dreams and waking visions are costing Will lapses in time and he must seek out Jack once more – for he is the only remaining one who knew his father.

Pairing: WxE (het all the way)

Category: Drama, angst, humor

Rating: R (we're talking about pirates, duh!)

Author's notes: I don't know where the hell this came from. Maybe it's because I keep running into writer's block for my Saber Rider fic, or maybe I've watched POTC one time too many (but four times isn't much, I swear). Anyway, here it is, courtesy of me muse (fickle-minded creature she is). Don't ask me where this is going. I have not the slightest notion, just a vague outline without the pertinent details.

Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all related characters belong to Walt Disney. Captain Jack Sparrow, however, is definitely Johnny Depp's. I make no profits nor do I lay claim to these characters. Just having a bit of hobbyish fun with them.

~ To Ease A Soul ~

One

- What is a dream but another path through reality? -

What do you do with a drunken sailor?

Early in the morning?

Shave his belly with a rusty razor

Early in the morning!

Way-a, hay-a, up she rises

Early in the morning!

It was a good day, a perfect day for sailing. The wind was strong and true, propelling the ship across the dazzling blue ocean in the desired direction. Above, the sky was equally brilliant and cloudless, the hot Caribbean sun shining fully onto the ocean and the ship, allowing the sailors on board to dry out the lingering moisture and chill from the rainstorm of the night before from their clothes.

It had been a good voyage. Three raids on merchant ships had yielded a great deal of booty for them. The holds of the Black Pearl were near bursting with spices from the Indies, silk and china from the Far East, and gold from the Spanish Main. The crew was in very high spirits, eager to return to land to spend their ill-gotten wealth in all manners of debauchery.

He was no less eager to get back to land, though not for debauchery. On this point, he was one unique pirate indeed. His reason was more personal, and one that never failed to sustain him through dangerous raids, hostile weather and becalmed ocean. Whenever he was about to do something 'incredibly stupid', as his captain would put it, that reason would be there, making him think twice, possibly saving him from would-be fatal encounters several times.

Today, he was on his knees and hands, vigorously swabbing the deck together with two other of his shipmates. The other pirates went about their tasks with boisterous energy, lustily singing the boisterous shanty. Even the captain – the crazy coot – sang along as well.

In a way, he enjoyed seeing his captain so carefree. Being reunited with the Black Pearl certainly did the scurvy dog a whole world of good, not that he was currently less crazy or eccentric. Oh no, he suspected the pirate was born crazy. But the captain did seem younger, less…battered – if that was the right word to use – as though the ten years of wandering and separation from the Pearl never happened and took its toil on him.

"Capt'n Sparrow, more rum for ye?" shouted someone.

"An' will ye be shavin' me belly wi' a rusty razor?" came the prompt retort.

Rough laughter resounded across the deck.

"Land 'hoy!" the watch yelled from the crow's nest.

A great cheer rose from the pirates of the Black Pearl. He joined in as well, abandoning his task to hurry eagerly to the railing and clambered onto it, hanging to a taut rope for safety. The land was just a grey smudge on the horizon but it was nevertheless a welcoming sight after months of seeing the even continuous line of the horizon.

"Tortuga," came the low drawl next to him. "By sunset, we be drinkin' an' wenchin' to our weasly black hearts' content."

"If the wind holds."

Jack flashed him a gold-toothed grin. "Ah, but th' wind will hold, mate." He swung down from his perch, landing lightly as he always did on his feet and swayed in his unique gait to the helm. "Question is, can yer patience hold?"

Following closely, he gave his captain a look, which Jack laughed it off. The flamboyant captain of the Black Pearl slung an arm over his shoulders.

"Come now, mate. I know ye dote on th' laddie. Eager for news 'bout him, ol' Jack can tell."

He gave up scowling, letting his lips form a dreamy smile of anticipation instead. His mood was just too good to be ruined by anything, including Jack's needling.

"I wonder how tall he is now," he mused. "She said he's starting to look a lot like me."

"Mebbe so, mebbe not. But ye'll n'ver know."

"Aye." Being a pirate did have its shortcomings. There was no way he could sail home to visit his son without being clapped in irons the moment he set foot on land.

Jack patted him on his shoulder. "Don't be lookin' so glum, Turner. By tonight, th' world sh'll be yer oyster…Well, 'haps only Tortuga, but I assure ye, me good man, tonight we sh'll eat an' drink like kings."

"Aye, like kings." He smiled. "Kings of the ocean."

"Aye, kings of th' ocean. That's th' spirit, matey!" Turning his gaze back to his ship, Jack began barking orders to his crew to get back to work.

Chuckling, he made to return to his chore as well when he saw someone who made his blood ran cold with fear and hate.

"Capt'n, the cook be wantin' a word wit' ye."

He watched in horror and confusion as the man he thought dead, killed by the rightful captain of the ship, walked up to Jack in broad daylight as though he did so everyday. His confusion grew as his captain and friend greeted the man with open friendliness.

"If it's not 'bout me rum, he can talk to ye, Barbossa. Savvy?"

"It's 'bout th' ship's store."

"He can still talk to ye."

Jack! He wanted to scream. Don't trust him! Don't you remember what he did to you?

Jack suddenly turned to him. "Still up here, Bootstrap?"

The name gave him a jolt. Bootstrap?

Suddenly the world tilted and turned unreal, as though made of insubstantial mist. The brilliance of the sunlight dimmed, the vibrant colors of the sky and the oceans faded, became hazy as though wool was being pulled over his eyes. The sounds of the ship and the ocean, once so clear, became muffled and confusing.

Bootstrap…father, came the confused realization. This is a dream.

…nay, son…

And Will Turner awoke with a start.

PS: I know the shanty used is a rather modern one. But it seems to fit the tone of the opening.

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