Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (and you know what, now that I think about it, that name doesn't really make sense. The Pearl wasn't cursed. The people on it were. The Aztec gold was. But not the Pearl itself. beats the writers), the characters from the movie, nor "100 Years" by Five for Fighting. I own Mr. & Mrs. Addison and her daughter Ziyn (which is pronounced Zihn, rhymes with sin, E-I-E-I-O!!!), his father and mother. Another thing: I'm an American. I live in the USA, I have my entire life. If I get any sort of weather for London or the Caribbean wrong, please let me know NICELY, don't bite my head off for it, I really couldn't bear it. sniffles
Summary: This is basically Jack's life in a nutshell. Or a 6 or 7 part song-fic, I'm not sure how long I'm gonna make this. giggles YAY! Happy 10th Story, Bonnie Pirate Lass! Oh, why THANK YOU, Bonnie Pirate Lass! haha. I need mental help. Anyway, read on... this will make sense in due time. I hope. I also hope you enjoy it, and I also hope you review. %
Presenting - 100 Years: A Story of Life
I'm 15 for a moment...
caught in between 10 and 20...
and I'm just dreaming...
counting the ways...
to where you are...
As the young man laughed, his voice cracked, bringing another round of giggles from the girl. Blushing furiously, he shifted uncomfortably, holding his books loosely at his side. Running his fingers through his hair, he looked into the girls eyes, leaning back against the cold building. It was autumn in London, a cool breeze blowing the girls hair about her shoulders. "Should I carry those for you...?" he asked quietly, not taking his eyes off her, holding out his own stack of schoolbooks for her to place hers upon.
"Ziyn!" The sharp voice of an older woman snapped through the air, and the young man and his female companion spun on their heels, looking up to face the voice. "Mrs. Addison!" His voice shook with surprise as the middle aged woman stared down at him, her hands on her hips. "H-hullo, Mrs. Addison!" He said over again, forcing a smile as he inclined his head corteously to the woman. "Mother..." the girl curtsied, giving a look up to her friend that reeked of worry.
But Mrs. Addison ignored her daughter, instead turning her attention towards the boy. "Mr. Sparrow, how many times have I asked you to please steer clear of my daughter?!" He smiled sheepishly, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck, not at all caring that Mrs. Addison, or Ziyn, for that matter, were there.
'Does it matter how many times you've asked? Doesn't mean I won't do it again... and again... and again...' As he thought this, he had to stop a playful grin from showing, but no matter how hard he tried, the mischivieous twinkle in his eye would not be supressed, and the girl at his side choked on a giggle.
Her eyes glowing with anger, Mrs. Addison jerked her head upright. "Come along, Ziyn, I'm sure your father's awaiting us at home." Normally, Mrs. Addison would be waiting at home with Mr. Addison, but since she'd been named Headmistress at Saint Anne's Finishing School For Young Women, she'd walked Ziyn home every day. Giving Jack a small smile, the young girl tossed her shining red hair around her, nodding her head at him. "Good evening, Mr. Sparrow." She whispered, her eyes saying so much more to him than her lips could in that single moment, and Jack was awestruck. "Good evening, Mrs. Addison, Miss Addison..." He bowed to them slowly, never taking his eyes from the girls.
'God, she's beautiful...'
As far as he knew, he was in love. It was all that mattered.
Dinner that evening was uncomfortable. Once again, John Sparrow, Jack's father, was away on business. He was always away on business. 'No doubt with one of his whores...' he thought to himself as he put a piece of chicken in his mouth. His mother, Pearl Sparrow, was of course, a nervous wreck. She always was whenever Father wasn't around. Jack hated his father for that. "May I be excused?" he inquired, looking up at his mother hopefully. She smiled, her eyes wide with fear. "Yes, of course, dear... going for another walk? It's near dark..." The shaky tone in her voice stung Jacks ears; he knew she didn't want him to go out. But he was never gone long, and wouldn't be tonight. "I know, Mum. I'll be back soon." He kissed her cheek as he walked out, grabbing his cloak from its hook in the front closet, slipping out before the butler could ask questions.
He ran as fast as he could towards the Addison household, the sun setting in the sky, and he snuck around the stone wall, hopping over it before grabbing a handful of stones.
Ttt... ttt-ttt...
The stones clinked against the window pane, and after breaking the window once before, he knew he shouldn't throw them so hard.
And then, there she was, pushing the windows open and smiling down at him, leaning against her crossed arms in the window sill. He was breathless, she was perfect, even with all her little imperfections, she was perfect because of them. She was real. When she was there, the world ceased spinning.
And he loved her.
"Jack, what are you doing here?!" she hissed, surpressing a giggle as she pretended to scold him. "I came to see you... I missed you..." he said in a whisper, and she closed her eyes, smiling. "Oh, the things you say."
Ziyn Addison didn't look fifteen, she looked about twenty, her long, flowing hair - which she normally wore down, just because she loved it so - cascading around her shoulders in such a way that he couldn't stop smiling. "Ziyn, please come down...?" Her smile faded a bit. "Jack, I can't... Father's going away in the morning... you know what that's like, don't you?" She was pleading with him to understand, and he could forgive her anything. Fortunately for him, she never abused it, and her father going to the Caribbean the next day was as good a reason as any she could have given him.
Nodding slowly, he smiled serenely up at her. "Of course... will I see you tomorrow...? Will you come out with me then?" She broke into a grin, smiling wider than she ever thought she could. "I'd love to..."
He closed his eyes, his own smile growing as every second passed. "I'll count every moment 'til then..." She blew him a kiss as he turned to walk home, the moon shining down on his young, handsome face, and she sighed happily, closing her windows. Turning around to go back downstairs, the smile from her face only fading when she layed eyes on her mother, standing in the doorway silently, arms crossed over her chest.
"I won't even ask you to explain... you're not to see him again, understood?"
Ziyn's youthful face, twisted in fear and sorrow, didn't change, not even when she began to cry. "Mother, please, don't act so quickly! He's really only a friend, I promise!!" Her mother closed her eyes, inhaling sharply. "Not another word." She opened them again, glaring at her daughter. "Now. You will wash your face... you will come downstairs... and you will not speak a word of this to your father. We'll further this discussion when I'm not so angry I could wring your neck."
With that, the elder Addison woman spun on her heels, storming out, leaving Ziyn to have a good cry before hiding her sorrows behind a mask of false cheer to say goodbye and goodnight to her father, who would have surely understood her plight. She only hoped Jack would understand when she didn't answer the window - and she prayed he'd be persistent enough to not give up on her.
Smiling, hands in his pockets, Jack took his sweet time walking home. With every step, he thought of Ziyn, one more moment closer to seeing her tomorrow. Since he'd moved to London, and started at Saint John's Prepatory (Saint Anne's brother school), he had thought of little else but her.
In all fairness, Jack Sparrow hardly looked his age either. Tall, a tad more muscular than he should have been, Jack had spent his summer at sea with his father, learning the tricks of the trade. The family business. As his sixteenth birthday neared, right around the corner, he thought about whether or not it would be wise of him to do what his father before him had done, when so many of the boys at Saint John's soon became members of Her Majesty's Court. Sighing, he tried to put his father out of his head, tried to let his thoughts return to Ziyn, but it was no use. His father was a bit on the abusive side, a drunkard, and no matter how important his trade was to the Queen, John Sparrow was hardly a good man, no matter what way you looked at it.
Suddenly, a firm hand grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around sharply. Jack's eyes, wide with fright, landed upon his father, who reeked of rum. "Well, speak of the bloody devil..." Jack whispered, more to himself than John, who didn't hear the snide comment. "Boy, wot are ye doin' roamin' the streets this time o' nigh'?!" He released him, and Jack rubbed his shoulder, his eyes blazing with anger. His father mumbled this time, turning his head to look at the woman who was beckoning him with her finger in the shadows of the alley. "Yer mum sen' ye ou', didn' she? Sen' ye t' look for me?" Jack glared at him. "Hardly. She's learned you'd rather be with your whores. She has me to take care of her when you go out on your escapades." he spat, his tone dangerously violent. His father chuckled, sneering. "Ye don' know who yer talkin' to, boy... Shoul' probably teach ye a lesson, huh...?" John reached for his belt buckle, the woman from the alley now behind him, draping her arms around his shoulders, kissing his neck. "John, 'e's no' worth it... come, luv... please...?" But the elder Sparrow shrugged her off, and she backed away, angry and hurt her advances had been turned down.
"Yer gonna learn no' ter talk t'me like tha', boy..."
With that, John raised the belt, bringing it down on Jack.
And in an amazing risk, one he debated taking thoroughly, Jack raised his arm, snatching the belt from the air, and swung it around on his father, who fell limp to the ground, bleeding from the temple, where the thick brass buckle had hit him.
From the looks of things, he was dead.
Jack stared, eyes wide, pale as a ghost, and simply terrified that he had honestly killed his father. "Oh, Lord..." Turning around, and running for home as fast as he could, he left behind the screams of his fathers latest and last conquest, and the body of a man who had never shown him anything but how not to be when he grew up.
After leaning in another alley, emptying the contents of his stomach and drying the few tears that had fallen, Jack knew he could not stay in London anymore. Not with what happened. His father was not only an important man, but great things were expected of Jack as well. But more than any of those things, he couldn't see the heartbreak on his mothers face, knowing every day of his life that he was the one who caused it. No matter how horrid he was to her, Pearl Sparrow remembered days where her husband was a better man, and stayed with him in hopes those days would return.
He tiptoed into the house, not bothering to remove his cloak, for he'd be in need of it momentarily, and risking the creaking of the front hallway door would only cause problems. Creeping upstairs, he stood over his mothers bed, a few more tears escaping his onyx eyes.
'Goodbye, Mum... may you never know it was me...'
He leaned down, kissing her cheek, then turned to leave, only looking back once when she sighed in her sleep. All the worry in her face now was gone, and she slept peacefully, truly looking like the beautiful woman that she was, that'd she'd always been - until she'd married John Sparrow.
As he closed the front door behind him, after descending the stairs carefully, taking mind to skip the third stair from the top - which never failed to creak - he sighed, looking up at the moon. He placed his hands back into his pockets, and he took a detour to his final destination, stopping in front of the Addison residence.
'Oh, Ziyn... I know you'll not hear this from me... but I'll come back for you... I swear it...'
He closed his eyes, not bothering to wipe away the tears that now poured freely. He prayed that Ziyn would understand when he did not come tomorrow, and headed down to the docks after letting his eyes stare upon her bedroom window one last time.
"Who goes there?!" called out a shabby man, hunched over a load of trunks. "Sir, it's only... it's just a boy." The man at the docks chuckled, shaking his head. "Wot's yer purpose here, boy?" Jack shuddered, hearing his father speaking when the man called him boy. "I'm looking for work..." he said quietly.
Jack's eyes went over the man. Tall and tan, he stood with his thick arms crossed over his chest, blowing a chocolate brown curl from his eyes. A tattoo poked out from his arm, and as
"Ye know how ter sail?"
"Aye, sir, I do. Spent my summer on a ship, every summer for the past three years."
"The work woul' be permanen'... we're headin' into the Caribbean in the morn'... can't be stuck in London over the winter, ye see?"
"That's fine... as long as it's work, sir." Jacks voice almost stuck in his throat, torn between smiling because of this streak of luck, and crying, for the exact same reason.
The man nodded slowly, turning to look Jack over, his eyes shining kindly. "Alrigh'. As long as ye think ye can handle it..." the man chuckled, offering his hand to the boy. 'He doesn' know wot he's gettin' 'imself into...'
Jack took the mans hand, trying to smile. "Thank you, sir."
"Enough with the 'sir', boy. Ye'll be callin' me Bootstrap."
"Whatever you say, Bootstrap..."
"Have ye a name, boy...?"
Jack thought about this for a moment, wondering if he should give his real name to this man, who he knew nothing about. But, he reasoned that any man who gave the name Bootstrap obviously had his own secrets, and would be the last one to turn him over to the authorities. "My name's Jack Sparrow, Bootstrap."
The man smiled sincerely, seeing himself in young Jack's face. "Come along... I'll show ye aroun' th' ship..."
Jack took one last look over his shoulder, in the direction of Ziyn's house. He wondered when he would see her again.
caught in between 10 and 20...
and I'm just dreaming...
counting the ways...
to where you are...
Alright. So again, if the weather of the season was wrong, I apologize if I got anything wrong. And about the schools? I don't know if they had schools like that then, but if not, humor me.
Yes, so Jack was a preppy Catholic kid who accidentally killed his daddy in a struggle. Isn't that sad? That's so sad. sniffles Poor Jack's mommy. Heehee, I couldn't resist naming her Pearl, it was just so fitting. I hope you guys liked this, please don't forget to review! I wanna thank Captain Crimson and Memory Untainted for beta-ing for me. w00t! props to the Cap'n and Mem, who rock If you guys don't know about Captain Crimson, go read her stories. Don't forget to check out Mem, either, she's got a Charlotte Doyle/POTC crossover that's to die for, and if you guys pester her enough, maybe she'll update. pouts because Mem has a stupid laptop that eats her stories Trust me when I recommend them, you will NOT regret it. I mean that.
Always,
Heaven Marquin, The Bonnie Pirate Lass