bittersweet46, Seaspray, Bluekrystal1 thanks for reviewing! Here's more for ya :) Although his actions were pretty extreme, Jack's not as hard as he might want others to believe...
The crew watched as Jack left the side of the ship. Gibbs gave the orders to resume positions. He'd done just as Jack had asked him previously and made sure everyone knew to stay out of sight and not interfere with the argument between their Captain and the newcomer.
Gibbs followed after Jack and finally caught up with him in one of the few spots on the deck that was not visible from most angles. Leave it to Jack to know every nook and cranny on his ship. What he found Jack doing didn't really surprise him given what had just happened.
.................
Jack turned from the sight of Will staring back at him. It was a long distance down but he could swear there was a look of betrayal on the young man's face. Reasonably he knew there was enough distance that he couldn't be sure of Will's expression and it was more than possible he was simply thinking he'd seen that look because he expected it.
With a seemingly confident swagger across the deck, Jack passed the gawking crew without a look or word. He disappeared into a small space between the hatchway and the side of the ship where he knew he could remain unseen. There were actually four such places on this side of the ship that Jack knew of, but this had been the closest. It was also the only hidden area where he could lean over the railings as became necessary when his stomach revolted. As Jack threw up over the side of his ship he was vaguely interested to note that vomiting was no less disgusting when it contained no rum. He couldn't remember ever getting sick like that without the aid of copious amounts of alcohol.
'At least none of the crew 'ill see me. They won't know how hard that was,' Jack thought.
He then felt a hand on his shoulder. After coughing once more and spitting several times (and checking his chin braids weren't wet), Jack turned around to find Gibbs was the owner of the hand on his shoulder currently steadying him.
"All right now, Jack?" Gibbs asked him.
Jack nodded, eyes downcast. After a moment he took a deep breath. "Anamaria's still in place?"
"Aye," Gibbs confirmed. "She's there."
Jack looked up to see that she was indeed in the crow's nest, spyglass in hand.
"An' the boat, she's ready as well?" Jack asked of the small life boat clearly ready to be dropped to the water's surface at a moments notice.
"Aye, tha's ready too."
"And th crew? You tol' em to-"
Gibbs interrupted, "Capt'n, we're all ready to pull 'im out if need be."
"Good," Jack said nodding to himself. "I'll be waitin' in me cabin," Jack said trying valiantly to sound like he wasn't regretting his decision to toss Will into the ocean. 'With my nose pressed to the window,' Jack added in his head. He suspected Gibbs would figure as much.
"I'll come an' let ye know the moment somethin' 'appens," Gibbs said reassuringly.
"Good," Jack said still nodding nervously. "Thank you Mr. Gibbs," he added sincerely. Jack felt very fortunate to have someone as trusted and, by in large, tight lipped, to help him. After all, it wouldn't do for the rest of the crew to know he was terrified he'd made a mistake and pestering Gibbs about Will's safety like some kind of pirate mother hen. No, that wouldn't do at all. Jack trusted Gibbs wouldn't say anything, at least not right now when it mattered at any rate. He did however have the sneaking suspicion that some distorted version of the current goings on would surface in the form of a tavern story, though it would be Gibbs reciting the tale and not himself.
Giving his head a quick shake, Jack headed for his cabin to wait.
.................
It wasn't the first time he'd found himself in this situation and somehow, that's what scared Will the most. He remembered the terror and confusion when the ship he'd traveled on from England had exploded beneath him, remembered a thunderous bang and the deck was suddenly not beneath his feet anymore. He was no child anymore, but being alone in the ocean was still intimidating. He also noticed that there was no broken chunk of ship to cling to and help him stay afloat. On the plus side, he wasn't stunned by an explosion this time either.
Will had been out in the water for only a short time, but already he could feel the strain in his muscles to keep his head above water in the small waves. This might be pleasant weather for sailing but even minimal waves were rather difficult to navigate when one found themselves without a ship or even a piece of one.
Watching the retreating Pearl, Will felt the first true stirrings of real panic. He was very alone in the seemingly never-ending expanse of brilliant blue water. He looked back at Port Royal. It was farther away from him than the ship, but with the way the waves were moving it would seem to be a far easier swim.
'But to what?' thought Will. 'To a woman who doesn't love me, at least not the way I loved her?' he admitted. 'To a life I can't have and a place that doesn't even feel like home anymore?'
Will turned in place and looked back at the ship. It didn't really look all that far but then it wasn't as if the wind was just going to blow him where he needed to go. The currents seemed to be working against him, and Will Turner didn't exactly come equipped with sails.
He tried to relax and float a bit, looking up at the sky. It didn't work very well as the water was just too choppy to float in. Will was starting to tire and it wasn't going to be easy whichever way he chose to swim.
..................
Jack paced nervously in his cabin, rum bottle firmly clenched in his hand. It was nearly empty as he again approached the window, peering out desperately. Just as every other time, he could barely see Will, a tiny white spot surrounded by sparkling water growing smaller each time he checked. Jack knew it was taking considerable effort to keep the ship moving away from Will at an extremely slow pace. It would probably have been easier to drop sail entirely except then they'd be forced to drop anchor (and thus not move enough) or be pushed by the currents into Port Royal.
Jack was startled out of his thoughts by a sudden crack and bang of breaking glass. He thought someone had thrown a bottle inside his cabin (though that was impossible as he was the only one in there) when a sharp pain in his hand drew his attention. He looked down only to find that he'd clutched the rum bottle so tightly he'd broken it. There were glass shards stuck in his palm and fingers. Conveniently, the remaining rum had not gone totally to waste as it coated his hand, burning and sterilizing the cuts all at once. Jack wasn't looking forward to having all that glass pulled from his hand. He could feel the blood and rum dripping onto the floor. He knew he should take care of it but instead found himself pressed up against the small window panes, watching the tiny white spot bobbing in the water.