Chapter 2: Welcome aboard the Black Pearl, Mr. Turner
Feeling the wind in his face was the first thing that pushed past the barrier of pain that Will had felt after loosing Elizabeth. In the beginning, Jack had required little work, so that left Will free to just lean over the railing of the deck, close his eyes, and feel the cleansing effect of the cool, salty air. Normally, the crew left him keep to his own thoughts. This time, the wind hit his entire body, cleansing and relaxing at the same time, but just as he was starting to forget about the mess that was the last part of his life in Port Royal, a hand on his back startled him out of the peace he was seeking.
"Marvelous feeling, ain't it, lad?" Jack spoke, leaning close to Will's ear.
Will stayed silent, waiting for his Captain to speak again.
"We dock in Tortuga tomorrow, mate. I'll find you a forge so you can fix these guns of ours. Never know when we might need to fend off the Commodore."
Will nodded once, closing his eyes again, eager to feel only the wind again. Recognizing Will's desire, Jack left, his fingers trailing lightly across Will's back as he left. Will shivered as the hand finally broke its contact.
He had not wanted to feel it in the first place; the only person who had a right to touch him like that was Elizabeth. But of course, she couldn't do that any longer. Jack's touch had not been wanted, but had left a void in its absence. The wind alone could not satisfy Will any more that night. Confused, he turned and went back to his own bunk in Jack's cabin. It was nowhere near as grand as the captain's bed, but it was just big enough for him. He had a feeling that Jack would know that anything bigger would make him feel more alone than he already did.
That night, Will settled down on the straw mattress, shifting around until he found a position that lacked straw lumps poking him in the back. He pulled his blankets around his tense body in a tight cocoon, trying to regain the warmth that Jack's light touch had taken away from him.
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Will didn't know where Jack had gotten the right to use the forge, but it was better than anything he expected to find. But perhaps not. Tortuga was, afterall, a pirate town, and a pirate always has need of a good weapon and a strong cannon.
He started to work the bellows and felt his stik start to heat along with the fire. His hands were still chilled, along with the small, hand sized area at the small of his back. He ignored it and started his work.
As he pounded the steel into its place, Will contemplated Jack's recent strange behavior. At times, the captain would make excuses to talk to him, whether the matter was urgent or not. At other times, it was impossible to find the mystifying man, even in the confined area of a ship on the open ocean.
Jack seemed to be in two minds about having Will aboard. He would sometimes try to explain the ship's workings in great detail, guiding Will around the decks, pulling ropes and checking the tension on the sails as he went. At these times, he would inevitably initiate some physical contact, keeping it as long as possible. Will found himself looking forward to these impromptu sessions. But they were always cut short and when he returned to Jack's cabin some time later, he would find Jack asleep on his bed, with an empty bottle of rum at his side.
When not in the mood for teaching the business of sailing to Will, Jack would stay at the helm, silent and stoic, if such a term could be applied to the energetic and scheming captain. He would speak in short, clipped remarks, and not even shout his usual insults at the crew.
His behavior confused Will to no end, which was why he thought about it while doing the meaningless task of pounding a rod of iron into a flat sheet to be applied to the cannon.
What was even more confusing was that he felt Jack's absence more than he cared to admit. He had felt as though he was underwater since he had discovered that Elizabeth was dead. Not even the forge could completely erase the ice that spread through his body, especially from his hands. The only source of internal warmth he could find was in the Captain. And no matter how much he resisted, he came to rely on their brief periods of contact to ease the physical pain a bit.
He doused the steel in a bucket nearby, and slumped against the wall in the close forge. Closing his eyes, he pressed back hoping to even out the heat of his back, even if it meant being cold again. When his skin refused to cooperate, he closed his eyes and ignored the fire, letting it die for the night.
The light faded from bright red to a gentle glowing orange before he moved again. Putting away the tools, he closed the door and headed back down to the tavern to join the crew for dinner.
Hordes of people were in the small pub, slamming into each other in their haste to get food, drink of the eye of one of the numerous girls sidling around the room. At any one time, there were several men competing with gold and jewels for the company of the women. Will slid past all of them, refusing to let his eyes linger on the uninhibited bodies around him. Keeping his eyes on the floor, he slid into the empty seat next to Jack and eyed the food that was pushed in front of him. After a week of subsisting on salt pork and hard tack, the hot food was welcome, if questionable in origin. He slowly started eating, focusing on his plate and ignoring the warmth spreading through his body from the contact point of his elbow against Jack's.
The captain didn't appear to notice Will's distraction as he slowly ate, feeling warmer than he had for weeks. Before long, he was actually starting to feel feverish. Before too long, the heat became unbearable. Standing abruptly, he pushed past everyone and almost ran down to the dock, stopping just at the edge before throwing himself in to cool the feverish feeling on his skin. It was much worse than the chill. He knew the origins of the coldness that threatened to overwhelm him if he didn't keep it in careful check.
The fever was beyond any control. He did not know where it came from. He could not figure out how to control it, other than to abandon his place next to Jack, whose presence seemed to initiate the slow, smoldering burn. He stood on the very edge of the dock, spreading his arms to feel as much of the wind on his entire body as was possible.
For several moments, there was no fire or ice anywhere on his skin. There was only the wind and the sea. In that one moment he could pretend that he was still a lad in England; a boy who barely remembered his father; a boy who had not sailed with pirates; a boy who had not met, fallen in love, and married Elizabeth Swann; a boy who had not suffered the loss of his entire family. Time didn't exist, and his confusion melted away for a minute.
The peace shattered when a footstep reverberated on the dock. Will composed himself before turning around to find Jack at the other end of the shoddy deck, standing without his usual swagger. The glitter that was normally present in his eyes had fled, leaving deep pools in their wake. In an instant, Will could feel his skin heating again.
Without a word, he strode the length of the deck, steps echoing in the abandoned harbor. He pushed past Jack and continued up the hill back to the tavern where the rest of the crew was still gathered. He spotted Annamaria talking to Gibbs in a back table talking quietly amongst themselves. They had acted as politely as pirates were expected to act, but had not included him in the random bouts of songs and tales that were always being sung and told after supper. The other crewmembers continued to ignore his presence, with the exception of Cotton's Parrot. Back in the present, most of the other members had found girls to entertain them. Despite the large number of men who sailed on the Pearl, there were still many girls looking for a single paying customer.
Without thinking, Will slipped his hand into his pocket and fingered his coin purse. He figured that he'd have enough for one night, or at the least a couple of hours. He almost started towards a thin, once-beautiful girl that had caught his eye, but stopped himself. He had been raised to know that this sort of conduct was wrong, just as he had always been told that pirates were evil.
Barbossa had certainly filled the space of Evil Pirate in his life, but what of Jack, and the rest of the men he sailed with. They were all good men (except for Annamaria, who was, in fact, a woman). Jack was so far outside any image he had ever held about pirates, and he felt drawn to the man's unpredictable character. As much as he wanted to accept and be accepted by Jack, he held himself back, feeling that any contact between them would be improper. Not that being a pirate was proper, of course, but there were some barriers in his teachings that he refused to throw to the wind.
Once again, he left the tavern in haste. This time he walked up the street, past the forge and to the highest point that he could reach on the rock that was Tortuga.
Looking out to the ocean, there was almost nothing visible. The moon was completely black, and the ocean was a void that reflected nothing, not even the brightest stars. In truth, the ocean reflected his mind. Out there was chaos tonight, just as there was chaos in Will's heart. He felt that he was being unfaithful to his wife; and at the same time that he was in some inexplicable way, hurting Jack. He had dropped his respectable life in Port Royal on a whim, though he did have the commodore's sword point almost literally poking him in the back.
Had he disappointed Elizabeth with his choice? She approved of Jack, but would she really approve of her husband joining his crew? She had once appealed to her father to grant him clemency, and that request had allowed him to rescue Jack in his closest call with the gallows. In return, Jack had brought him occasional business and had now rescued him from his darkest moments. What else did he owe the captain? And could he really pay that debt if he was able?
Leaving his questions to float out to sea with his thoughts, he turned and went back to the tavern. Ordering a drink this time, he sat down with Annamaria and Gibbs, since they were the only two of the Pearl's crew that were still sensible. Gibbs' eyes were starting to wander, though and he felt Annamaria's temper rising. Not wanting to provoke either of the two, he kept silent, and swept his eyes across the room, observing the customers that were not passed out.
His eyes alighted on a girl in the back corner. She was quieter than the others, with clothes that were a bit cleaner, but there was no mistaking her profession. She had an air about her that was unusual for the girls seen in the city, and she got much less business because of it. Will watched her as she stoically observed all of the others get several customers, without even getting an offer. Will was sorely tempted to make one himself, not least because she reminded him slightly of Elizabeth, but managed at the last minute to keep himself in his seat. His upbringing wouldn't allow him to engage in that sort of conduct. Feeling furious for even considering taking up with her, but still feeling drawn to the silent girl, he kept his eyes on her the whole night. If Jack noticed, he did not remark on it.
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Author's Notes: Well, it's been little longer than a week. I will attempt to clear myself by saying that I did have it written on time, but circumstances and birthdays kept me from getting around to the edits that my beta had back in a timely manner as well. Don't expect another chapter for a few weeks, since I have four exams and two papers due next week, then spring break, where I will most likely not have internet access for the week. I'll post as soon as I can, though, in the aftermath of midterms.
To all who reviewed: Thanks for the comments, I love feedback, though flames are used to burn the rum and keep me warm when it's really cold out. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if you did (or did not) let me know.
