Disclaimer:  I own a petulant muse, a few OC's, the bad guys, and Ja—*evil bad-guy lawyers prepare to pounce*—Jaraen, my muse, yes, that's what I was planning on saying all along . . .

AN:  Time has stopped being a constant and keeps decreasing.  I'll post tonight and repost in two nights with responses to reviews and my stats project included, so I'm not really breaking my word.  As for the little drabble/lost scenes folder, it's in addition to TLaP that I'm posting those.  I figured if I had them, I might as well share them.

To Love and Protect

Part 16

"Brian, grab him!"  The young captain reacted immediately, the concern in Jack's voice over-riding any hesitancy he might have felt at invading the blacksmith's personal space without any visual justification.  As soon as his hand came into contact with Will's shoulder, the blacksmith began to sway precariously.  Brian quickly worked his shoulder under Will's arm, supporting as much of his weight as he was allowed, casting furtive glances at the lightening sky.

Brian had timed their escape out as closely as he could.  The Intrepid was to be prepared to leave at dawn.  All they had to do was get to her, he would give the order, and they would . . .

Run.  They would run.  He would be running from his own people, for saving his godson, for saving his friends.

Well, maybe for saving them.  It seemed as though even making the run from the fort to the ship was going to cause problems.

"That . . .was most definitely . . .not nothing, Will."  Brian spared at glance toward Jack, staggering with less than his usual grace by Ana-Maria, his left hand pressed firmly against his head, his right clutched by Will's son, who was staring at his father in something approaching total terror.  Ana-Maria hovered at her captain's side, apparently prepared to catch him if he seemed to become even unsteadier.

Oh, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, why couldn't anything just be easy and go as planned?

"The Intrepid isn't much further, Will.  You can make it."  Brian shifted his shoulder further under Will's arm as the blacksmith leaned ever more heavily into him, small shudders beginning to race up and down his body.

"O' course I can.  Jus' a li'l dizzy."

"Ye're slurrin' yer words . . .worse'n a drunken . . .pirate, whelp.  Don' lie."

Will suddenly stopped walking, straightening slightly as he turned to stare at the pirate captain and the child he was guiding.  "Jack . . .please."

Brian realized what Will was trying to say without words.  No, he wasn't all right, but he didn't want to frighten the child any more than he already was.

"All righ', Will.  Who cut ye?"

Will's head was hanging down, his breath coming in panting gasps as Brian half-helped, half-dragged him to the docks.

"Michael . . ."  The blacksmith sagged even further against the young captain as Jack cursed.  "Don', Jack, please."

"Sorry . . .'m sorry, Will."

"No . . . don' go tha' far, Jack, don' go . . .please . . ."  Will straightened slightly, stopping again to look for the pirate captain, sweat dripping from him even as shudders continued to race up and down his body.

"Come on, Will, not much further."  Brian sighed in relief as he stepped onto the dock, the Intrepid suddenly filling his vision.

She was a beautiful frigate, at least in his own opinion.  Thirty-two guns, one-hundred-and-fifty feet long, able to easily hit twelve knots, sometimes thirteen or fourteen if he played her right against the winds . . .He had never raced her against the Pearl, but he had always wondered how she would fair.  Oh, yes, she was a beautiful ship . . .

And his.  She was his, his to command, his to care for, his to crew.  It still felt strange, even after nearly three years, to think of a ship, especially one like her, as his.

A commotion on deck caught his attention, and a moment later Elizabeth came flying down the dock, instantly placing herself under Will's other arm.

"Will, what happened?"

"The brillian' lad fought . . .man wi' a poisoned sword . . .'n' then went . . .and forgo' t' duck."

"I couldn' duck tha' low anyway, Jack . . .could o' dodged, maybe . . ."

A small blur raced past Brian and onto the ship, attaching itself to the girl who was watching the small crew approach from the railing, held in place by calloused blacksmith hands on her shoulders.  Brian turned his head away as the children sat down, hugging each other tightly, whispering and crying as they watched.

Some things weren't meant to be intruded upon by outside eyes.

"Might want t' . . .let him sit 'gainst . . .side for a momen' . . .if ye wan' your ship t' stay all nice and clean."

Brian nodded, not allowing himself to wonder how Jack would know as he gently lowered the sick man to the deck, Elizabeth kneeling beside him.  The sound of retching made his own stomach clench with worry as he turned to face Rollin and Hardel.

"Lieutenant, is the Intrepid fit to sail?"

"Aye, sir.  All hands aboard and completely reprovisioned."

"Good.  Take her out, then.  I'll be in my cabin with my guests.  George, I need you to find Francis and tell him he has patients to see."

"Aye, sir."  The redcoat snapped to attention and left, casting only a few surreptitious glances over his shoulder at the young captain and his 'guests'.

"Captain, might I inquire at to what happened and what we're to do now?"  Rollin stood stiff and straight, gazing warily over Brian's shoulder.

Brian licked his lips, tasting copper all along the left side of his mouth.  "Some unexpected things occurred at the fort tonight.  No lives were lost."  Yet.  "The Intrepid was slated to leave at dawn, and so she shall.  If your friends don't succeed in their brilliant plan, I take full responsibility for anything and everything that happens aboard this ship.  Understood?"

"Aye, sir.  Perfectly clear.  Did you have a course in mind?"

The young captain grimaced, the action causing fresh blood to trickle down his face.  "For the moment, just away from here, Lieutenant.  I'll tell you more tomorrow.  There're other things that need taking care of right now."

"Aye, Captain."

"Sir, permission to leave the ship."  Brian turned to the blacksmith standing behind the children.

"Permission granted, Robert.  Thank you for staying with Elizabeth and the children."

"You're very welcome, Brian, though I'm wishing I'd come with you."  Robert cast a single worried glance towards Will.

"It wouldn't have changed anything.  Be careful.  Hallson will not be pleased."

"He's no reason to connect me to anything that's happening."

Brian sighed, fighting the urge to rub at his face where the blood had begun to dry.  "He's no fool, even if he is going mad.  The mad make leaps of logic that the sane couldn't.  Just be careful."

"I will be, sir.  Take care of yourself, Brian.  Take care of them."  Robert leapt lightly down to the dock and walked away as Rollin bellowed the orders that would take them out to sea and safety.  He was bargaining on being able to get away from the dock before any alarm was sounded.  The fact that Michael was still conscious somewhere didn't improve Brian's outlook much.  At least the Defender wasn't anywhere near prepared to follow them, and even if they managed to muster the crew and give chase, firing on a fellow British ship that simply seemed to be following orders wouldn't sit right with most of the men.

Normally Brian would have been at the helm, would have been the one yelling orders and coaxing the right response from his ship as she fought her way free of land and into open water.  It was one of the parts he liked best about being captain.  Today, though, there was something more important that he had to tend to.  He wouldn't trust Rollin to control Jack Sparrow on a good day . . .on a day when all indications seemed to point to Will dying, he definitely wasn't leaving the man to care for the pirate.

"Will, can you stand?"  Brian knelt beside the blacksmith and his wife.  Will was doubled over on the deck, both arms pressed tight to his stomach, his breathing harsh and ragged.

"Not . . .without . . .help."

"You have it.  Come on.  On your feet for a few seconds."  Brian and Elizabeth slowly raised a very shaky Will to his feet, guiding him the few steps and into the great cabin before depositing him on one of the two cots still set up from a certain rescue a week ago.  Brian quickly found a bucket, certain that the rocking of the ship wasn't going to be helping the poison-induced nausea.

"Stay with him.  I'll get Jack and Ana-Maria and see what's keeping Francis.  He's somewhat capable in his field."  Elizabeth didn't even bother to nod as Brian exited the cabin.  He hadn't really expected a reaction anyway.

"Jack . . ."  The pirate captain was leaning heavily against the railing, both hands pressed to his head, Ana-Maria steadying him.  "Oh, Jesus, Jack, what's wrong?"

"He won't back off from the lad, that's what's wrong.  Ye can't fight this, Jack.  Ye're going to hurt yourself."

Jack shook his head slowly.  "He asked me t' stay, love . . .he's ne'er abandoned me . . .not goin' t' abandon him . . .already lost one brother by letting go . . .not goin' t' lose 'nother . . ."

"He has abandoned ye before, ye daft fool, and I won't lose ye, Jack Sparrow!  Ye can't fight death!"

It seemed to take an extraordinary amount of effort for Jack to straighten and lock his eyes on Ana-Maria.  "Says who?  I've cheated 'im 'nough times 'fore. . ."

"First off, get into the cabin, both of you.  I don't want you seen on deck until we're well away from shore.  Secondly, what in heaven's name are you talking about?"  Brian was getting rather tired of being left out of the loop when it came to rather important details that could drastically alter his plans to keep them all alive.

"Will didn't tell you about the link?"

"Apparently not, if I'm asking you.  Do you need help, Jack?"

"No . . .'m quite capable of walkin' all by me onesies . . .jus' tryin' t' convince m'self an' the lad that losin' breakfas' all o'er yer ship isn' the best way to thank ye . . ."  Jack staggered the few steps into the cabin, settling himself against the wall and resting his head in his hands again, Ana-Maria following.  Brian waited at the door, alternating scanning the deck in front of him for the doctor and the shore that they were slowly pulling away from for signs of trouble.

"Captain."

Brian greeted the other man with a smile, motioning him towards the cabin and Hardel towards the guard position at the door.  "Doctor."

Francis Welks wasn't what you would call a young man, though he didn't qualify as old, either.  He had spent over fifteen years patching naval men back together, the last two aboard the Intrepid, and he had a fair knack for it, saving more patients than he lost, something that many surgeons couldn't say.

"Looks like you forgot to duck again, Captain."

"Aye.  I'm not the one you need to see first, though."

The doctor stepped inside the cabin quickly and scanned the occupants.  "Jesus, Captain, what've you been doing, starting a war?"

"It doesn't matter now, Francis.  I need you to do what you can for them."

The doctor spared a glance towards the two pirates.  "All of them?"

"Aye, all of them, man.  You're a doctor.  Remember your Hippocratic oath?  I think that supercedes any other loyalties you have at the moment.  Not that other loyalties should be a problem.  It is your Captain ordering you to act, is it not?"  The doctor nodded crisply, straightening his shoulders, though the effect was somewhat dampened by his rumpled uniform.  It occurred to Brian that the man might have slept in it so as to be better able to be up and caring for any injuries his Captain might have received within minutes.  It wasn't Welks' fault that he was a military man through and through.  "Look at Will first."

"Aye, captain."  Welks' blue eyes sharpened as he moved towards his patient.  "Will Turner, I presume?"

"Yes."  Will attempted to straighten and stare at the doctor, managing only raising his head before the effort didn't seem to be worth the reward.  It was much simpler merely to lean against Elizabeth and clutch the bucket as he attempted to keep some remnants of his dignity.

"Seasick, lad?"  The doctor gently pried the bucket away from Will's hands and began examining the slash to his side.

"Wish . . ."

"You wish what?"  Francis frowned as he felt the shudders racing across the blacksmith's skin.  He gently placed one hand on Will's chest and closed his eyes, listening intently.

"Wish . . .just seasick . . .need the . . ."  Welks quickly returned the bucket to Will, patting him gently on the shoulder as dry heaves wracked his body.

"Captain, a word with you?"

"Aye."

Brian gestured towards the small door leading from the great cabin into his own, much smaller, personal cabin.  The grim look on the doctor's face was doing little to reassure him.

"The cut isn't nearly enough to make him this sick, and it doesn't come anywhere close to explaining the shivering, the difficulty breathing, the irregular heartbeat . . .were you playing with someone who uses poison?"

"I wouldn't exactly call it playing, but yes, Michael has been known to use poison on his blade."

"Damn.  You have a Bible, correct?  And you're qualified to do a burial at sea, aren't you?"

"What?  You can't be serious.  You're not even going to try anything?"

"There's nothing to try, Captain.  I've seen this before.  Hunters use the poison on animals and accidentally stab themselves or shoot their neighbors.  Rebels use it to poison wells.  There is no treatment for aconite poisoning, Brian.  If you're able to find some way to give him a semblance of peace, do so.  If it wasn't damnation to commit suicide or murder, I'd put a pistol in the man's mouth myself and pull the trigger.  He is going to die.  He is going to die in agony.  There is nothing I or you or anyone else can do about it."

Brian licked at his lips again, the coppery tang of his own blood coating his tongue.  "How long?"

"How long has it been since he was cut?"

"A bit over twenty minutes."

"Normally I'd say less than ten minutes . . .then again, I usually wouldn't expect anyone suffering from wolfbane poisoning to still be coherent after twenty minutes."

"Do you think maybe . . ."

"No.  All the symptoms are there, Brian, and they're just getting worse.  He's just fighting more, that's all.  I'd give him twenty minutes, maybe a half hour."


"All right."  There really wasn't much else to say.  The young captain could do little to argue with Death.

"Will you let me look at your face now?"

"No.  See to Jack and Ana-Maria first, and then I want you to look at our Jack, Turner's son, just to make sure that everything's well with him."

"And then you'll let me look at your face?"

"Aye."

"All right.  I'll care for your pirates if you'll at least scrub down.  The men don't really need to see you walking around with half your face coated in blood.  Not if you want to succeed in whatever you're planning."

"I'm just trying to keep good men, and women, from meeting an untimely, unnecessary demise.  Nothing more, and nothing less."

"All right, Captain.  I've sailed with you for two years.  I trust your judgment.  You've a knack for reading people."

Brian nodded as he stepped back out into the main cabin, looking first at Will cradled against Elizabeth and then at the two pirates that the doctor was approaching.  Welks didn't slow until he stood directly in front of the seemingly semi-conscious pirate captain.  Ana-Maria's hand shot out a second too late to stop the doctor from reaching down to prod at the blood-matted mass of hair against the pirate's left temple.

Jack was on his feet and swinging as soon as the doctor's fingers connected with his head.  Brian winced in sympathy pain as the pirate's fist connected with Francis's chin with a sickening thud that sent the doctor reeling backward and to the floor.

The pirate captain blinked at the doctor several times and then looked down at his fist before slowly unclenching his fingers.  "Ye're not Michael."

"I wasn't the last time I looked, no."  Francis rubbed at his jaw as Ana-Maria hauled him to his feet.

"Y'know, touchin' a pirate without askin' permission and givin' warnin' is a bad idea."  Jack was swaying noticeably as he turned away from the doctor, his unfocused gaze ranging the cabin for a moment before locking on Will.

"I was slowly forming that picture in my mind."  Brian's admiration for the doctor grew as the man shook off Ana-Maria's hand and again approached Jack, holding his hands out to the side.  "May I examine your head, Captain?"

"Ye need t' talk softer when ye're sayin' someone's goin' t' die.  He's not, either, y'know . . .won' let 'im . . ."  Jack seemed to swing his gaze back to the doctor with difficulty.  "Good of ye t' 'member tha' I'm a captain, too."

"Captain Sparrow, can I look at your head?  Please."

"Not yet.  Need t' clean Will up first . . .I can' touch 'im when he's bloody.  Four's the number for death, ye know.  Can't have the link breakin' now.  Need it . . .need t' keep him grounded . . .keep close . . .help him . . ."  Jack suddenly straightened and pivoted slightly, pointing at Ana-Maria.  "And her . . .clean up her arm . . .less scarring . . .less pain that way . . ."

"All right, Captain.  I'll do that."  Francis slowly backed away as Jack returned to his seat in the corner, talking quietly to himself . . .

Or maybe not to himself.  Brian stared at Will again, his throat constricting as everything began to make more sense.

What exactly would it do to an already slightly unstable pirate to be somehow linked to a dead man?

"Can I look at your arm . . ."  Brian caught the hesitancy in the doctor's speech as he attempted  to decide what to call Ana-Maria, evidently deciding on nothing as he cautiously approached the female pirate.

"Don't worry, doctor.  I won't be hitting you.  Not unless ye do something to deserve it."  Ana-Maria pulled her right arm away from her body and held it out to the doctor.  Brian moved closer as Francis swiftly unbuttoned the cuff and gently rolled back the sleeve.

"Oh, good Lord above, what in Hell was he thinking?  I'm sorry, m'lady.  This should not have been done.  The Royal Navy does not do things like this."

Ana-Maria turned her head away as Welks began working.  "I know it shouldn't have been done, doctor.  I would never do that to Jack.  Even if we aren't legally or religiously wed, I've earned his trust, and I'll be damned before I lose it for some fool reason like lust."  Francis nodded, gently wiping down the burned skin from the brand before proceeding to tie a white bandage tightly around it.  She flexed her hand as he finished.  "As for the Royal Navy . . .I've just never had much of an affinity for any man wearing their uniform, with the possible exceptions of James Norrington and your own captain."

"There're good men in the military.  Many good men, and I've sailed under and with more of them than I can remember."

"I've a good captain of my own.  Go clean Will up . . .please."  Ana-Maria again pulled her arm tight against her side.  Francis turned to face Brian, raising both eyebrows in question.  The young captain nodded.

There was nothing he could do help Will, nothing Francis could do to help Will, but, given their link and both men's sheer willfulness, there might be something Jack could do to help Will.

But at what price did you bargain with Death?