A/N: I love you guys. :D Words can't describe how much your reviews mean to me…they're real ego-boosters. I'm sorry for the delay on this chapter…my 'net connection crapped out on me. _ But it's back and here it is! I hope you like it 'cause after much deliberation/editing I am happy with the result, despite the length of the chapter. Side notes: First bit is a flashback and in Jack's POV. You'll know when it ends by that little '~*~' symbol. 'When Doves Cry' is a song by Ginuwine…music inspires me often, as you can see. :P If you want lyrics, I suggest you look them up, 'cause there ain't any here. ~_^ Last side note- Johnny should have won that Oscar, dammit. XP
Disclaimer: I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean(though I wish I did), Jack Sparrow(wish did once again), nor any other character from this kick-ass movie. If I did, I wouldn't be writing this fic; I'd be making another movie. And hanging out with Johnny Depp. I have yet to see a pig fly over my house wearing a tutu either. So, no sueing, please?
Summary: Will is living happily with his newly wed wife, Elizabeth. But when someone from Jack's foggy past comes, sworn to have revenge on Jack Sparrow, he and Jack must stick by the truth and their friendship in order to survive.
~Tell No Lies~
~Chapter 9~
~When Doves Cry~
24 years ago, it was a hot summer day on The Phantom. I remember that day clearly since it affected me so. It was the day of The Phantom's last epic battle, the day that the previous six months before Tristan and I had announced our promise of our friendship, and the day that promise was broken.
It was the day The Phantom's greatest rival pirate ship, The Cosmic had gotten wind of our location and we were due to do battle. Captain Eric Stevens had been enemies with the captain of The Cosmic, Captain Tyler Moore, since even before I was born. They fought continuously for years, and it was about time that the 'big battle' would take place.
I remember giving Jones that sparrow whistle not too long before the showdown, so that if anything happened to me I would be remembered. I had had that little trinket since as long as I can remember, which was a gift from my mother that was meant for me. She died giving birth to me, so it was very special to me.
Then, chaos erupted. Both ships met and immediately began to fight. Cannon fire exploded through the air and covered the entire sky with gunpowder. It seemed like it would never end, but eventually the crew on The Phantom was able to board The Cosmic. We swung through the air like monkeys, Tristan and I sticking close by each other.
This was also as I remember my third real 'pirate fight', which was special to me because the number meant so much to me. In the first fight I got stabbed in the shoulder, which wasn't very fun. The second time I actually killed somebody. My first kill, and what I hoped would be my last, but no such luck for me as you should know. I never liked the prospect of dying much, and seeing a man dying in front of me, blood spilling from his chest in rivers, is a very unnerving experience, even for a man such as myself. So I was of course somewhat nervous about this fight but at the same time excited. It was hard to tell what emotion from another. But I felt that with Tristan by my side we would come out of this okay.
Tristan and I landed on the ship's deck from our ropes on our feet like cats. Immediately the crewmen of The Cosmic bombarded us with attacks. We were still pretty inexperienced with these affairs, but both Tristan and I were a team and backed each other up when we needed it, and I also kept in mind that I had my pistol tucked in my belt in case I needed it.
Then, things started to get rough. The pirates kept on coming, as I noticed the numbers of our crew that were still alive were starting to dwindle down. Both captains were facing off each other, the clashing between them titanic. Tristan and I began to grow tired; we were just lads and we were fighting a man's job. But somehow, the two of us together equaled the strength of a full-grown man, a very skilled and strong one at that.
Suddenly, someone came from behind me and elbowed me in the stomach. It was a cheap shot, and the world darkened for a moment. I heard Tristan distantly call my name and I snapped back to reality.
I had fallen face down on the ground. I looked up and saw the pirate who had knocked me down above me, ready to cut me in half. I twisted around onto my backside and cheated badly by kicking him where it hurts. He howled in pain and I took his moment of weakness to get up, knock his sword out of his hand with mine and slamming him against the ship's mast forcefully. He crumbled, but I saw that he was still breathing; I refused to kill unless absolutely necessary.
I looked around, desperately trying to locate Tristan. I spotted him; he was being attacked by one pirate who looked like he had just jumped into a pig pen, his long blonde hair looking more like a shade of brown. But hygiene issues didn't affect his fighting skills. He was giving Tristan a hard time, and without me he was struggling. I had to get over there quickly.
But the crew of The Cosmic apparently had other plans. Three of them dived at me at once, but I ducked with the grace only a drunken man could carry, and sidestepped in time to avoid two swords skewering me in the gut. Instead, the two pirates who had attacked me slammed into each other and collapsed into a heap.
The last pirate who had attacked me took a swung at me head, but I crouched away just in time. He kicked for me, but I rolled away. He slashed his sword at me, and I pulled out my own and blocked. I stabbed him away, and rolled into a standing position. It was my turn to kick him, and I took full advantage of it. He yelped when my foot collided with his shin. Even though he was strong, my speed and agility were immense and I made sure I used them well. I did, in which I used the hilt of my sword to slam against the pirate's head before he could recover. He joined to pile of unconscious pirates that I had defeated.
I looked up again, more winded than ever. But Tristan was in a worse state than I was. He was barely conscious on the ground, the grubby pirate above him, his sword raised. Time slowed down, my brain working at light speed. I had to save him, but how?
I suddenly remembered the pistol in my pocket. I realized I had to use it. I didn't want to kill, but I didn't want Tristan to die either. The need for him to live overrode my fear.
I grabbed my pistol and aimed for the square of the grubby pirate's back.
Suddenly, the pirate I thought I had just knocked out grabbed my ankle from behind and pulled. I hit the deck, and my finger slipped. The pistol went off. I heard a cry of pain. Tristan.
I looked up and my eyes widened to the size of fancy dinner plates. The bullet had torn through Tristan's leg, and he was looking at me through pained, barely conscious eyes. My throat went dry and my stomach lurched; I had just shot my best friend.
Grief and anger overwhelmed me as Tristan finally passed out. The pirate who was overtopping him just stared at me, also angry, though for what reason was beyond me because I had practically done his dirty work. But my rage was more powerful. I roared like a lion and used my pistol to press against the temple of the pirate who held my ankle firmly. Before I could register what I was doing, a sudden blood lust overwhelming for the first but definitely not the last time, I pulled the trigger and the shot echoed. I didn't wait to see him die; I stood up rapidly and aimed my pistol back at the grubby pirate, who was now charging for me. I narrowed my eyes. I pulled the trigger once, twice, thrice.
The enemy stopped dead in his tracks and stared at me. Blood began to seep through his clothing, but he didn't seem to notice. All he did was stare at me, probably thinking, 'How could a kid like that kill me?' in last living moments. The pirate let out one last rattling moan, and then gravity and the grim reaper took him.
I drew in shaky breaths, but held my pistol in place firmly. The second, no, third time killing someone, counting that other guy on the ground; a feeling I hated. But it was worth it.
I pocketed my pistol and dashed over to Tristan's still body. I used my hands, which at the moment felt too violent to be capable of being gentle, but was anyway when I shook Tristan's shoulder.
"Tristan?" I asked, forcing my voice to be calm, "Wake up, mate, come on," I glanced quickly at his between shakes, and I just as quickly turned back to face my friend. The only visible colour on his leg was dark red.
Tristan began to stir, and slowly his eyes opened. At first his green eyes were dull and almost unseeing, but then they registered my face. They blinked and widened. But then, they narrowed, making my feel uncomfortable.
"Ye shot me," he accused icily.
My own eyes widened, reminding me once more of those fancy dinner plates I've never had the privilege to use, for once at a loss for words.
"Ye tried to murder me, ye traitor!" Tristan snarled at me.
Speech returned. "What?! No, I didn't, it 'twas an accident, I swear! I would never--"
"Liar," Tristan hissed. His eyes stared into my own, hatred and confusion flooding them. When Tristan lost consciousness again, he left me feeling like he had shot me instead of vise versa.
~*~
"And that is what happened," Jack concluded, and it was now obvious he was very winded.
Jones was quiet for a moment, trying to process what he had heard. "I…don't believe it," he finally replied numbly.
Jack let out a harsh laugh that sounded more like a cough. "Really now? Well, then just ask Capt'n Stevens, mate. He'll back up my story."
Jones narrowed his eyes. "What's he got to do with it?"
"After ye passed out, it wasn't long before we had won the battle. Captain Stevens had long before killed the captain of The Cosmic, but he would soon be forced into retirement because of that battle. So much blood had spilled that night…and he helped clean up yers. He was a witness, son, and he even carried ye back on board The Phantom. Ye expected me to carry ye meself? I wasn't that strong," Jack chuckled weakly.
"He…never told me that before," Jones replied faintly.
"Ye never asked," Jack reasoned with a tiny shrug, "'Sides, would ye have listened?"
Jones wanted to say yes, but he knew deep down that he wouldn't have. Suddenly all of the anger and hate that had flooded his vision for the past 24 years was replaced by a cold numbness. "So yer sayin'…ye saved me? Ye didn't try to kill me?"
"Wow, ye catch on quick," Jack mumbled sarcastically. Jack was breathing even more shallow now and his grip on his gun shot wound was weakening. He was staring at some distant place beyond Jones' shoulder, and yet a faint smile teased his lips. "Well…now ye know…'m sorry…"
"Sorry for what?" Jones asked softly, afraid a loud tone of voice would destroy Jack's frail body.
"Sorry…it had to…come…to this," breathed Jack, "That…ye didn't know…sooner…" Jack coughed and looked directly at Jones, small sadness and pain blazing in them, but strangely at the same time, relief. "Do me…a favour… don't kill…the lad…William…" Jack shuddered, his now dull brown, kohl-rimmed eyes rolling back into his head, shutting, and finally slumped.
For a moment Jones just stared, breathing shallowly and distantly. The numbness he felt slowly melted away and was replaced by great grief and sorrow. He had just…killed his childhood best friend, the man who had saved his life. Oh god, why didn't he just listen to him? How could he have been so blind, so stupid?!
The pistol he still clutched in his hand clattered to the ground and he fell to his knees. "Oh, god, no," he whispered softly, staring at Jack's still body, "No, no, no, no…" he repeated despairingly, his shaking hands covering his head tightly, trying to squeeze out the grief and pain he felt. He had never felt such guilt in his whole life.
He clenched his eyes shut, and bellowed like a howling wolf, "NOOOOOO!!" He felt like crying, but he had long since forgotten how to.
~*~
Will woke up with a killer headache. He blinked a few times, still disoriented. It took him a few moments to remember where he was. As soon as he did, though, he looked around frantically for Jack. When he finally spotted him, his breath caught in his throat.
Jack was slumped against a boulder, bleeding profusely and a little too motionless for his liking. Then he saw Jones, apparently mourning for him. Is Jack…dead? Will wondered, Why would Jones be sad? Didn't he want Jack to die? Will shook his head. No. Jack can't be dead. He just can't. I know he's alive. Will tried standing up, but then felt dizzy and thought better of it. I've got to get to Jack…I have to see if I'm right. Slowly, Will started to crawl his way towards Jack, who was about in the middle of the cave, and Will originally off to the side. He crawled past Jones, grunting to himself in exhaustion. Jones didn't notice him, seeming to be lost in his own world.
Will, after much deliberation, reached his fallen friend, and sat up in front of him. "Jack?" Will murmured softly, touching Jack's shoulder lightly. He used it to upturn his face towards him. Jack had a pained expression on his pale and sweaty face, but strangely looked slightly peaceful.
But he was still breathing. They were raspy and short, but god, he was alive! Will felt just as happy as he felt at his and Elizabeth's wedding at that moment.
"He's dead, there's no use," came the despairing voice of Jones from behind, but it was soft and muffled, so he was still on the ground and facing it.
"No," Will answered, " He's alive. He's still breathing."
"What?" Jones was so quick to his side it was put a cheetah to shame. "He's alive?" he asked incredulously yet- joyously?
"Why do you care anyway?" Will frowned, "I thought you wanted Jack dead."
"I did," Jones admitted, "But that doesn't matter now. Jack needs a doctor."
Will nodded. "But why should I trust you to help me?"
"Ye don't have any reason to trust me, yer right, but I promise I won't try to kill ye at least."
"Why not?"
"Jack asked me not to."
Will didn't know what to say to that, so he simply nodded his head. He grabbed Jack's right arm and wrapped it around his neck. "Help me get him up."
Jones silently picked up Jack's left arm as well and wrapped it around his own neck as well. Together they heaved the unconscious and badly wounded Jack up. Will's head swam with this motion with the new dead weight on his shoulders, but his concern for Jack overrode the dizziness he felt.
They slowly inched towards the cave entrance, Jack's booted toes dragging along the ground and his head bobbing aimlessly.
The sun was setting in shades of violet and pink, illuminating the sky lightly; the end of another day. Will hoped that this wasn't the mark of the ends of Jack's days as well.
The cave was about a half-mile away from Port York, and another quarter mile to The Black Pearl. The tide had set in and both Jones and his boats had long since drifted out to sea. Will felt a lump develop in his throat; they were trapped. Then, Will saw; his beautiful wife Elizabeth, beads of sweat glistening across her forehead, was rowing towards them in her own little wooden boat.
~To Be Continued...~
Next Chapter: Back on The Black Pearl. Tons of angst for you reading enjoyment. Will Jack be okay?
The bit before probably pissed off some of you readers, about Jack 'dying'. Come on, I know I scared ya for a minute there. :P Don't think I'm done with Jack yet…whether it will be in this fic or future fics * coughsequelcough *, you'll just have to wait and see. ~_^ Please review! I hope to have to next chapter out soon!
