Disclaimer:  I own them.  Really, I do.  I'll rip the throats out of any evil copyright lawyers who come and tell me otherwise.  *growl*  *howl*

AN:  Hello again!  Welcome to the next installment.  Not much to say other than enjoy.  Except for that, if you don't mind short things, I've got a folder for drabbles and the like up on here that has some things I'm proud of.  It gets updated at weird times, too, basically when Jaraen won't buckle down on this story.  If you feel like, take a gander and review.

To Love and Protect

Part 23

To Love and Protect

Part 23

"Bill.  This . . .is this real this time?  No games . . .no tricks . . ."  Jack slowly stood as he spoke, still breathing hard and fast.  When he was finally up he merely stood, feet braced and shoulders slumped, as though the thinnest breeze could send him back down.

Not that there seemed to be a breeze, not a real one.  The mist still swirled in ever-changing patterns around them, the bright points of light flickering throughout it, but Will had yet to feel so much as a breath of air touch his own body.

"It's really me, Jack.  No more games.  Just try to stay calm."

"Calm?  You want us to bloody well stay calm?  How about some answers then, aye, William?  Or would you rather throw accusations?"  Jack started backing away slowly, and Will followed his movement, careful to keep himself between Jack and what seemed likely to be another threat.

Bill matched their slow steps, his hands out to the side and empty.  "I swear I'm only here to help you.  If you both weren't so bloody damn stubborn I wouldn't have needed to come at all . . .hell, if you weren't both so bloody damn stubborn this wouldn't exist at all."

"If you're trying to reassure me, Bill, ye're doing a ruddy bad job of it."

"I'm just trying to keep you alive, pirate."

"Why?  You're not even alive yourself."  Will knew the words were true as soon as he spoke them, though the tone was harsher than he had intended.  No light radiated from his father's skin as it did from his and Jack's . . .though the man's buccaneer clothing rustled and shifted faintly in the winds that gently caressed the mist.

His father's . . .his bloody father's . . .

Maybe his father.  He had to remember that, that things weren't always what they seemed to be here.

Bill sighed and stopped his slow forward movement, and Will stopped as well.  Try as he might to convince himself that there wasn't any way this could be his father, there was still some part of him that believed it was.  "No, Will, I'm not alive.  I haven't been alive for roughly thirteen years now, twenty-three if like me you count the first ten crushed and getting nibbled by fishes as a sample of hell."  Bill sighed again and made a circular gesture somewhat like one of Jack's as Will and Jack both frowned, backing away a bit more.  "The only taste of hell I ever had to endure.  I was very grateful when I felt that water for the first time, even more grateful when they let me see that you were both still alive, even if you—"  He pointed at Jack.  "—had done something incredibly stupid and endangered your life again."

"It isn't like I've got a habit of endangering my life.  Besides, I would have thought you'd count your son and his bonny lass as good reason for it.  I remember how much you'd talk 'bout . . .him . . ."  Jack staggered and nearly fell, his left hand rising to rub at his temple as he frowned, and for a brief moment Will could see the outline of the scar from the Aztec curse, blurred by the masses of thin black strings writhing in the area, apparently attracted by the lack of light.

The blacksmith reacted quickly, reaching behind him to lend a helping hand.

"No!"  The shout caught him by surprise.

The feel of a lead weight landing in the middle of his back was even more surprising, as was the close-up view of the gray mist that comprised the ground in this strange world.

It took a moment for what had happened to process.  When it had, the reaction was instinctive and vicious, an all-out assault on whatever it was that was holding him down.  He could remember the pain that touching the child had caused, the cold burn as the threads of darkness attempted to infiltrate the light on his skin.  He fully expected the same pain to start again at any moment.

The weight on top of him shifted and Will bucked, twisting around to get a better shot at Bill's, or whatever it truly was, face.  He stopped abruptly as the point of a dagger appeared at his throat.  This world might not be exactly what he was used to, but it seemed a safe gamble that having your throat slit would be a bad thing here, as well.

"Cheat.  Attack from behind and pull a blade on an unarmed man."

"Pirate, whelp."

"Your whelp, if I believe you."

"Aye.  Lad, I swear I'm not going to hurt you or him.  You're my child; he's somewhere between a brother and a son.  I'm trying to help you."

"Really?  Funny way of showing it, William."  The sound of a pistol being cocked caused both Turner men to freeze in disbelief.

"Jack, how in Hell—"

"You weren't armed—"

The two men glared at one another before turning back to the pirate captain, who grinned half-heartedly.  If he had looked unsteady before, now it looked as though only sheer stubborn will was keeping his hand steady and his feet firm.   "First off, let's try not to mention hell or being damned or some such fun as that, not while we're here.  Secondly, Will, I have no idea where the bloody pistol came from, I just needed it and it's here, which I think we should be grateful for.  Thirdly, Bill, if that's who you really are, get off your flaming fool of a son and explain what you were trying to do, unless you want to try dying again."

"All right, Jack.  Just let the pistol go, all right?  You don't have enough strength to spare to—"

"Move, William."  Jack's voice was soft but dangerous, carrying not just the ring of command but of life and death.  If Will could have moved, he would have.

Bill shifted and tossed the dagger to the side, still using his weight to pin Will down.  "I'm not armed, Jack.  Now please let the pistol go."

"No.  You weren't armed before, either.  Made quite a show of it.  Move."  The pistol was shaking slightly in the pirate's grip.

"Let me explain first.  Please."

"Just . . .move, ye . . .bloody . . .bastard . . ."  Jack swayed slightly.  The black threads seemed to have vanished from his skin, but the light also seemed . . .dimmer than it had been.

"You've got to be feeling them, Jack.  Cold, burrowing, slithering . . .if you're not strong enough to keep them from condensing, then you're—"

Will's heart nearly stopped as the light from the pirate's skin flickered and died for an instant.  Jack's eyes rolled back in his head as he collapsed to his knees, the pistol falling from his hand, seeming to become transparent before disappearing entirely.  The light brightened slightly around the pirate.

Before Will could react the weight was gone from his back and Bill knelt in front of the pirate captain, pulling back the pirate's coat and shirt and settling his hand where Will knew Jack sported two scars from shots he had caught with his chest.  Black threads swarmed out and through the light as Jack slowly opened his eyes, allowing Bill to pull him upright as Will scrambled to his own feet, fully intent on separating the two men as quickly as possible.

"Don't, Will.  Look at yourself.  No threads, no pain where I touched you, now is there?  No.  I am honestly just trying to help you."

Will paused, considering.  It was true.  The contact he had had with his father hadn't caused any black threads to appear on his skin, hadn't caused any cold fire.

"Why . . .what . . ."  There were too many questions to determine which one to ask first.

"What just happened, William?"

"You just tried to kill yourself, that's what just happened.  Black threads are not good.  Black conglomerations are infinitely worse.  You pushed too hard, too fast, and you weren't strong enough to keep the threads from coalescing.  Will, don't come closer, please?"

Will stopped, staring inquiringly at Jack, allowing him to pick the next move.  Jack simply nodded, his attention seemingly fully focused on Bill.

"And you . . . what?"

"I did the only thing I can do, even here.  I separated them.  I can't make them go away.  Erasing Death's mark, that's something only another living person can do."

"Where is here?"  Will gestured to the gray landscape.

"That's . . .a very good question."  Bill laughed softly, rubbing at the back of his neck.  

The silence stretched.  After thirty seconds, Jack waved his hand vaguely in the air, his voice heavy with sarcasm.  "Do we have to wait an eternity for a very good answer?  You're right, the little thread things are cold, and annoying, and just disturbing to think about, and the sooner you tell us whatever you need to the sooner I get rid of them, right?"

"I wasn't supposed to need to be here at all!  If you weren't such a damned stubborn foolhardy chary bloody fool of a pirate this would have been over!"

"I think you contradicted yourself in there, and how is this flamin' mess my fault?!"

"Because you're the one who played around with forces he doesn't understand!  You're the one who keeps attracting Their bloody attention!"

"Whose attention?"

"Coyolxauhqui, Quetzalcoatl, Mictlantecuhtle, Shiva, Kali, Yahweh, do I really have to continue?"

"No, but between the two of you, the Turner's have gotten just as much attention from those gods as I have."

"I can think of others that have been strictly you, Jack.  Besides, no one is able to grab as much attention as Captain Jack Sparrow."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Maybe you should get back to explaining . . ."  Will's voice trailed off as both Jack and Bill turned their glares towards him before facing each other again.

"At least I'm still alive."

"Through no fault of your own."  Bill sighed.  "Here isn't a real place, you both figured that out by now, I'm certain.  Neither of you is a fool.  It's not a dream, either.  Here is . . .limbo, of a sort.  A special kind of limbo, just for the two of you.  You were right when you said this was created for a mental parley, Jack."  Bill paused again, pacing a few steps away from Jack before turning and striding back to his original position in front of the pirate captain.  "What happens when an irresistible force meets an immovable object?"

Jack frowned and tilted his head.  "Is that a trick question, mate?"

"With you, everything's a trick question."

"Something doesn't survive."  Will fought the urge to fidget as he again broke in on the rough banter between the two older men.  He felt . . .out of place here.  Bill might have been his father, but it seemed Jack had an infinitely better grasp of how to react with him.  "If an irresistible force meets an immovable object, something isn't going to survive."

"That's right, son. Something isn't going to survive.  In this case, two somethings."

"Us.  Are you saying if the link comes back, we're not going to survive it?"

"No.  You're both strong.  You can survive it.  If either of you is fighting it, though . . .you're both strong-willed.  You've both built barriers, strong barriers.  When you came back to life, Jack, what was it like?"

"Wonderful fun."  Bill just smiled slightly and stared at the pirate until he shrugged and looked away.  "It hurt.  A lot.  My chest, my head, my leg, everything hurt.  It was hard to focus.  I wasn't entirely sure what was real and what was just in my mind."

"In other words, it was fast and it was complete.  No slow process, no chance to adjust."

Will nodded slowly.  "That's how the link is going to come back.  Hard and fast.  If we're fighting it, we'll tear each other apart."

"Exactly.  You wouldn't die, per say, but what's left wouldn't exactly be life, either.  That's why I wouldn't let you touch him, Will, not until he's given his acceptance.  I'm sorry I jumped you."

Will smiled slightly.  "A simple 'stop' would have sufficed."

Jack shook his head slowly as though arguing with himself.  "There's a simple solution to this conundrum.  We don't bring it back."  He nodded decisively before looking back at Will, flashing his golden grin again.  "So let's abandon the gray misty meadow and go home, shall we?"

"Jack, you can't.  You called.  You already asked for his help.  He's bound to help you."

"I uncall.  I don't want his life, Bill.  He's got a bloody family now, a good family.  I won't do this to them."

"If you just accept it, you'll both be fine.  Trust him.  Drop your guards, just long enough for the link to come back."

"And if I don't?"

"You die.  Only you can't die.  You've an oath to complete."

"I can't die?  So what was I doing a minute ago?"

"Dying.  Jack, you're asking me to explain things that I still don't have a complete grasp of."

"No, I'm not.  If I wanted to, I'd ask you if all those gods are really separate entities.  I'd ask you what heaven looks like.  I'd ask you what hell looks like.  I'd ask you which bleedin' god is your favorite and if they're really as much like mortals as their followers believe, or as much like divine beings as their followers believe, depending on who we're talking about.  I'd ask if that 'demon' of yours is Death, death, or something else entirely.  I'd ask who winds up where.  I'd ask you to describe what it's like being underwater for ten years tied to a cannon crushed into a little ball with creatures that never see the light of day.  I'd ask where my lovely first mate wound up.  I'd ask how in Hell I'm supposed to kill Michael, and how the bloody stupid British whelp of a captain is going to keep himself from dancin' the hempen jig, let alone the rest of us.  I'd ask—"

"I get the picture, Jack."

Jack hesitated a moment before nodding.  "I'd ask where you got the bloody dagger before and where I got the pistol.  Is that explainable?"

"The rules here are different.  If you need something, you can get it.  It takes a lot of strength, though.  I didn't think either of you would figure out how to do it.  As for why you can't die . . .you want to know what Hell is like?  Break an oath to the gods when they've given you a way out, Jack.  You'll find out soon enough.  Besides, you don't really want to die, do you?"

"No, I don't want to die.  Not for a while, at least.  You know what Michael did, don't you?"

"Aye, I know.  It wasn't your fault, you know, what happened to the Pearl.  You were a good captain for her.  Less blood, more glory, all the ocean to prowl, a captain who treats her as an extension of his soul.  What more could a good ship ask for in her life?"

Jack's eyes narrowed.  "You're acting as though she's got a soul, Bill.  I mean a real soul . . ." 

"Whoever said she didn't?"  Sheaths of mist moved between the three men, making it hard for Will to see his father.  Bill's clothes again rippled in the wind that drove the mist.

"You can feel the breeze here, can't you?"

Bill nodded at Will and smiled sadly.  "I can.  I'd be upset if I couldn't, considering I helped design this place for you.  There's a lot of people up there who want you to know we're rooting for you two.  Quite a motley collection, your supporters are."

"I'm certain.  You ready to do this, whelp?"

"Are you ready, Jack?"

"As ready as I'll ever be.  We just touch?"

"Aye.  Light to light, life to life.  His life will give you the strength you need to erase the mark.  You'll be a free man again, Jack, not bound to anything."

"Except to kill Michael, of course."

"Of course."  Bill and Jack both grinned before Bill turned back to Will.  "Will, you have to have faith, in yourself, in him.  Be strong.  You're a good man.  You can do this."

"Father . . .it was good seeing you, I guess, even given the circumstances."

"Good to see you, lad.  You grew up fine, son, even without a father.  I'm proud of you.  And whoever said this was the final goodbye?  You found your way here once.  If you need me again, or this again, you'll find your way back."

Will wasn't entirely sure what to make of that, whether to be happy or upset, so instead he just turned his attention to Jack, who raised both hands, palms up, the threads of darkness again beginning to congregate around the scar on his left hand.

"Ready?"

"Ready."  Will raised his hands and touched them to Jack's, hanging on as hard as he could and fighting the urge to scream and pull back as the world seemed to explode around them.

                                    *                                   *                                   *

"Will!"

"Jack!"

The two cries reached his ears at the same time.  Will realized that he was gasping for air as he gradually acclimated to the rocking of a ship beneath him.  Gingerly opening his eyes brought a whirl of colors that slowly resolved into people and objects.

"That was . . ."

"Something else."  Jack filled in the blank, breathing hard himself and grinning.  "I'd forgotten how good it feels to be warm."

"What in bloody Hell did you two flaming fools just do?"  Ana-Maria stood behind Jack, while Elizabeth was at Will's side.  It took Will a moment to determine that they were still in the cabin where he and Elizabeth slept, the door to Jack and Ana-Maria's smaller space opened and visible as a darker place in the general darkness behind Jack.  His hands were firmly entwined in Jack's, just as they had been in . . .what had Jack called it?  The Misty Gray Meadow.

"Did you see . . ."

"Everything?  That was quite some ride.  I've never seen things happen from two different points of view before." 

"I don't ever want to do it again, though, no offense meant."

"None taken, lad.  I wouldn't really be keen on doing that again, either."  Jack pulled his hands back, displaying thin lines of blood on both his palms, each line corresponding to one of their scars.  "Bill didn't mention that happening."

"No, he didn't."  Will looked at the blood on his own hands, Jack's on his right one, his on his left.

"Jack Sparrow, what are you talking about?"  Ana-Maria seemed ready to hit one or both of them.

"It's . . .rather complicated."

"Will . . .?"  Elizabeth didn't seem much happier than Ana-Maria did.

Will couldn't think of how to describe what they had seen and done, so he parried her questioning look with a question of his own.  "How'd we get here?"

"You walked.  You were talking about . . .something, but it was hard to make it out.  Will, what happened?"

Will shook his head.

Jack shrugged.  "Ana-Maria said call, so I called.  Then things got . . .complicated.  The Gray Misty Meadow, Bootstrap, seeing my hanging and that original duel and my death . . .deaths . . .from both our views at the same time . . .feeling those little black thread things finally die . . ."  Jack laughed softly.  "That was indeed quite the ride."

"So it worked?"  Ana-Maria stared suspiciously between the two grinning men.

"Aye, it worked.  Come on, love, let's go back to bed.  You can hit me and yell at me, Elizabeth can be furious at Will, we can both reconcile and still have time for a bit of fun before our morning tactical discussion with our favorite young captain.  Sound good?"

Jack pulled Ana-Maria into their room and shut the door before she could argue.