See part one for disclaimer. Responses to reviews at end.
A Pirate's Life and Death part 16
By Ecri
William Turner, Sr. stared at the lovely woman Jack was insisting was engaged to his son. He shook his head, though he smiled, in disbelief. "I'm not so foolish and far gone that I could believe a thing like that, Jack Sparrow!"
Elizabeth smiled and tried to reassure him. "It's true, Mr. Turner. Your son and I are in love." She blushed at the confession, for she rarely said the words aloud to anyone other than to Will directly, and they sounded strange, yet full of joy, to her.
She waited for his response and was a bit surprised when he didn't say anything for a moment. Hating the silence, she spoke herself. "Will is a wonderful man."
William glanced at Jack as though for reassurance and turned back to Elizabeth when he got a nod from his old friend. He smiled at the girl. "You an' Willhe goes by Will does 'e?" She nodded and he continued. "You an' Will, are courtin'?"
"We are." She said it quickly for she'd become accustomed to doing so. She'd found the speed and vehemence of an answer to such a question could well stave off hints and suggestions that she find someone more suited to her status.
William's eyes narrowed a bit at the hasty bark of a reply she'd given him, but he said nothing about it. "You're abit out of h'is league, if you'll excuse me sayin' so, Miss."
"Actually" Elizabeth smiled as she thought of Will and how much he meant to her, and of how much he had already done soley for her sake. "It's the other way around."
She relished the look on his face then. Shocked and startled that a woman of her social standing would suggest that a young man like Will Turner was her better, William Turner, AKA Bootstrap Bill, looked her in the eye and asked another question, though this was one she didn't want to consider. "Will'ow bad d'ya think he was? Was 'e 'urtin' much when last ye seen 'im?"
Elizabeth wanted to reassure the man, but she couldn't give him false hope. "He was well when he left the Painted Parrot."
William nodded. "Then the shape 'e's in now is all down to Nick's doin'."
Elizabeth followed William's quick glance towards Jack who nodded though he seemed reluctant to do so. She wasn't sure what sort of history they shared with this madman who'd holed himself up in Jack's quarters with Will insisting they travel onwards to find some unnamed mysterious object none of them would discuss with her.
Will's condition worried her more than she cared to think about. Nick hadn't allowed anyone to see him. He accepted food and water at the door and left empty dishes in the same place. They occasionally could hear a whispered conversation, and Elizabeth was certain she'd heard several groans last night, but there was no way they could assess his injuries.
She worried that Nick might have drugged him, and feared whatever effects they might cause might well be worsened by Will's recent bout with Killian's schemes. She could not help but wonder how it could be that she could be torn from him again so soon after being reunited with him. She recalled their kiss on the deck of the Pearl and, closing her eyes, could almost taste him again.
A tear slid beneath her closed lash, and a moment later, she felt a light tentative touch on her elbow. She opened her eyes to see Jack staring down at her. She swallowed the emotions that seemed lodged in her throat with her heart that would surely have sent more tears racing down her cheeks. She ignored the wet trail of the single tear trying to pretend it hadn't fallen from her eye, that it was a rain drop from a cloudless Caribbean sky or that it didn't exist at all, but Jack didn't allow that.
One hand cupped her cheek and his thumb gently wiped the moisture away. "'Ere, none of that. We'll" He paused and when he spoke again, it was just as gently, but with a fierce streak of determination. "I'll get your Will back to you. I won't let Nick 'arm 'im." He looked at William who nodded.
"Nor will I. I've waited years to meet me own lad, and I won't 'ave Nick cheatin' me of the chance!" He glanced toward the door to Jack's quarters from which none of the threesome had strayed far in the last few days. Determination brimmed from his eyes, and Elizabeth felt a shudder run down her spine.
Something in her snapped even as she felt a rush of sympathy at what he must be feeling.
She drew in a deep breath and rounded on him, her hands firmly on her hips as she leaned slightly towards him, fury on her face. "Cheating you of the chance? What on earth could you mean by that? You fathered that boy and then left him! He has spent a good portion of his life if nor searching for you than certainly thinking of you! The trials he's suffered–being orphaned when his mother died" She emphasized the word noting the way he cringed to hear it. "Working his way as a cabin boy to search for you, pirates, curses, Aztec gold, living with the thought that he'd killed you by lifting the curse! What right have you to be concerned now?" She took a menacing step towards him, and he backed up glancing to Jack as though in supplication, but getting only a vague, unhelpful wave as the Captain's hand traced an unrecognizable symbol in the air.
"Learning you were a pirate who went by the ridiculous name of Bootstrap Bill shook his world upside down, but he took up that burden and learned to live with it! He was never intimidated by what he learned or by what he faced!" Elizabeth's tears had dried up, and her face, red with rage and wide eyed with indignation was now only inches from that of her would-be father-in-law. "Will Turner is more of a man that you can ever hope to be! He's lived nobly andand responsibly and you aren't worthy toto tie his Bootstraps!"
She spun on her heel and walked away leaving him gaping after her.
**
Nick stared at the barman from the Painted Parrot. He hadn't been too seriously injured, but, with a knife to his throat, even this money hungry fool could play sick fairly well. Tied and gagged most of the time, the man wasn't likely to give him away.
They were well on their way now, and Nick was beginning to wonder if he shouldn't have waited to find the real Will Turner before trying to do this. If they overpowered him and found out this wasn't Bootstrap's boy he'd never get what he wanted.
How had he ever allowed Jack and Bootstrap to talk him into the pact to begin with? He cursed himself now, not even noticing when his prisoner flinched at the sound.
He'd always been one to make quick decisions. For good or bad, he did what came to mind. Sometimes it worked to his advantage. Like impersonating Boostrap. The man's reputation among pirates had guaranteed Nick would find ships willing to take him aboard. He'd made quite a bit of money until he'd begun to run into the real thing. At first, he'd been surprised, but then, he'd taken it as an opportunity. Bootstrap and Jack and Nick had once been close. Closer than brother's he'd thought, but Killian had put an end to that. When push came to shove, Jack had saved Bootstrap from that immortal monster, proving their friendship, but later, he'd left Nick to die.
It pretty much spelled out what your friends thought of you when they left you to die. When Bootstrap had finally tracked him down, Nick had been living a good life, though he'd bloodied Bootstrap's reputation. He'd gained an altered nickname and taunted Bootstrap with it. Bloody Bootstrap they called him, and that, if nothing else, was his own.
Everything else he called his, had come from Bootstrap. His belongings he'd taken from his former friend. He'd sold most, but the little gold ring seemed to be something Bill wanted back desperately. He'd kept it when he'd made that discovery, and, always, when Bill would come close to retaking it, Nick would make sure he knew he'd never truly get anything back from him. Not his reputation, not the few bits and pieces he'd stolen and sold, and not this ring. Pretty bauble it was, too. Why the man was so obsessed with it, he'd never guessed, but that he wanted it was enough reason for Nick to keep it from him.
Nick looked at the still terrified barman bound and gagged in the furthest corner of Jack's room. The man couldn't live long. That much was certain. He'd keep the masquerade going as long as he was able, but he would have to know when to cut his losses even if cutting losses in this case meant cutting a throator two. He grinned at the thought of Jack Sparrow and Bootsrap Bill slit from ear to ear–after they watched him kill this young man they thought was Will Turner. His grin grew wider, and his harsh laughter as he stared at the bound barman only made the captive man cringe all the more.
**
Captain Jack Sparrow thought long and hard about their destination. He'd been surprised enough when Nick had appeared from nowhere with Will in tow. Ahh, Will, he thought, what have you got yourself into? His heart had skipped a beat when he'd seen Will slumped and senseless in Nick's hands. Never mind that he'd thought Nick dead. Funny, that. He'd thought Nick and William dead and both were alive.
Nick hadn't poked more than an arm out of his self-imposed prison since he'd locked himself in, and Jack knew it was unlikely that he'd made Will comfortable.
How had he survived? Jack had gone over it in his mind since the moment William had said the man's name out in front of the Painted Parrot. He could still recall the first time he and Nick had been truly at odds.
Jack was trying to save William Turner from Killian's evil plans, and, having arrived back aboard ship with his still drugged friend, he'd found that Nick had already declared himself Captain, skewered the man holding that position, and engaged in battle any who opposed him.
Much of the rest of the crew did indeed oppose such a change in leadership. Jack had barely been able to wrestle William's limp form aboard before having to leap into the fray.
Nick was a fairly decent swordsman, though when harried, his basic style was to hack at his opponent. What he lacked in flair he made up for in aggression. Jack might well ignore the rules in a duel, but Nick didn't know there were rules.
Drawing his sword, Will blocked a blade that was intent on taking Nick's head from his shoulders. The man who'd wielded that blade had stared at him wide-eyed. Jack was popular among the crew of the Black Pearl and it was likely the man had no desire to kill the younger pirate.
Jack took full advantage. Never one to allow an opportune moment to slip from his grasp, Jack called loudly for everyone to stop. To his astonishment, they had.
"What's all this?" He turned to Nick. "What's goin' on?"
Nick growled at his friend. "I was explainin' my new rank to the boys!"
A feral light shone in Nick's eyes, and Jack had to fight not to take a step backwards. Before he could say a word, the man whose blade still crossed his own in a frozen tableau of battle gestured towards Nick. "'E says 'e be the captain, now."
Jack glared at his friend. "You what?"
Nick smiled, but there was more malice than mirth in the gesture. "Aye! What of it! Someone's got to take charge! Ye've saved Bootstrap, and the other ships will likely wait for Killian before chasin' after us! We can take this ship!"
Jack glanced nervously at the crew. He had to appease them somehow. William wasn't well. As if to reinforce his silent assessment, William groaned. For better or worse, Jack spoke, and he spoke quickly as a man who hoped his words might save his life. "You all know me!" He yelled to those assembled. "I've defied the Commodore's orders and saved a man he meant to kill." The men began to mumble about that eyeing the unconscious William. Bootstrap Bill was probably the only one more popular than Jack among the crew. "I need the Black Pearl to get as far from Killian as possible. You men are good pirates, but your ranks are low, your cuts small. Sail with us. Help us take the Pearl far from 'ere as we can get with a good wind, and I promise ye'll 'ave more riches in one month than ye'd likely take in a year with Killian!"
Jack had had no idea how he'd keep such a promise, but that was tomorrow's problem. Today's still involved Killian, William, and escape.
The men spoke quietly to themselves until one man stepped forward. Internally, Jack groaned. The second mate, Hodges by name, was not one to follow reason as Jack saw fit to define it. The two had never had a bad word to say against each other, but Hodges often made it clear that he disapproved of Jack's thinking.
"I'll follow you, Jack. I won't follow 'im." He gestured to Nick, who took a step forward.
Jack's hand shot out and gripped Nick tightly by the arm. He looked to Nick and whispered. "For William."
He could see the other man's reluctance. In truth, he wouldn't have asked for the captaincy like this. Sure, it had always been his intention that one day he'd take the Pearl. He loved her. It was as simple, as complicated, as that. He'd thought to follow another for awhile longer at least, and he'd assumed it would be William Turner who'd take the ship, but William was in no shape.
He looked for something in Nick's eyes, and, seeing a flicker took it as acceptance. Giving his friend a nod, he turned to Hodges. "If that's what it takes, that's what it takes."
Hodges nodded, cast a fleeting glare at Nick and turned to the others, though his words addressed his new captain. "We await your orders, Captain Jack Sparrow."
Jack sighed in relief. "Weigh anchor, then mates! Hoist the sails!" He turned his full attention on William who'd begun to moan. Nick only grudgingly helped him take the insensate William to the captain's quarters. Once they'd gotten William settled, Jack set about gathering things he'd need to tend the older man.
Nick caught his arm and spun him around. "Captain Sparrow?"
Jack smiled at first thinking his good friend meant to tease about the oddity of Jack breaching such a rank. The gleam in Nick's eye chased the smile from Jack's lips. "If it gets William away from 'ere" He stopped and stared at Nick for a moment. "Nick, this was all for William's sake, wasn't it?"
The look in Nick's eye as he struggled with too many emotions wasn't easy for Jack to decipher. Still focused on his ill friend, he hadn't thought he'd need to battle his well one.
"'Course it's all for Bootstrap." Nick looked hastily away, but Jack saw something then that would haunt him later.
Jack sighed now thinking of Nick ensconced within those same walls with Bootstrap's son–a lad he'd injured just to have his way. "I'm sorry, Will." He sighed heavily and looked up checking the position of the sun, but using the gesture as an entreaty to heaven as well. "I won't let 'im 'arm you, Will, and I swear, I'll make it up to you." It was the closest to prayer he'd been since he'd impersonated a minister.
**
William stared at the door to Jack's quarters. His son was through that door. It was the only thought he could allow himself. So close, yet so far. He'd taken Elizabeth's words to heart, and he understood her anger. Jack had told him of all the lass had been through with his son. Both of them insisted Will was a fine lad, and, though the thought made his heart swell with pride, he knew–had known before Elizabeth's tirade–that he could take no credit for it. It was his wife who'd done this. She had made him the man he was. Learning that she'd died so young and left Will to fend for himself as little more than a child hurt William, but not so much as not knowing what he'd been through.
Oh, he could imagine it all too well. Orphaned in London with no kin willing to take him in, Will had likely spent some time in an orphanage. William shuddered at the thought, and wondered how he had escaped such a life. He'd apparently taken to the sea in hopes of finding his father. Of course, the life of a cabin boy wasn't an easy one, and Barbossa attackinghe hadn't thought the gold might call to those who'd stolen it. He cursed himself for putting his son at risk. He'd done precious little for his boy in his lifetime, but the thought that his carelessness had nearly cost Will his lifeit made him want to throw himself against the rail and make an offering to Poseidon in a most unpiratical way.
Nick had tormented him for years now. William had spent several years combing the Caribbean for any sign or hint of Captain Jack Sparrow. He'd found nothing but rumor. Knowing how such things could spread well beyond reason, William had forsaken most of what he'd heard. Then one day on Tortuga he'd heard tell that Bootstrap Bill Turner had put in to port nigh on a week ago. He laughed to hear it. He'd only been on Tortuga for a few hours at most. Following up on what he heard, he soon realized he wasn't the man everyone called Bootstrap. He'd followed a shadowy, cloaked figure for days before finally cornering him in an alley between a pub and a house of ill repute.
The man who faced him had a familiar bearing, and William only hesitantly drew his weapon. "Tell me who ye be and why ye be takin' the name of Bootstrap Bill when it's clearly not yer own!"
The shadowy figure had begun to shake, and, at first, William thought the man was either having a seizure or terrified out of all proportion. He took a tentative step forward, but realized the man was laughing. In one swift movement, his opponent drew his sword and threw off the cloak that had concealed his face.
William felt his eyes widen in shock. "Nick." He said the name in a whisper as a man might voice an entreaty to his God. Shock and surprise were plain, but turned to consternation as Nick continued to laugh.
"Why, Nick? Why do ye pretend ye're me?" William brought his sword up prepared in case his old friend shook off the hilarity that had taken him and found his old rage.
The laughing stopped and Nick took a step toward William, sword raised and a glint in his eyes. "Why? Are ye so daft as to ask me such a thing?" Another step to the right and the two began to circle each other. "First off, I thought ye dead, but I like it better that ye're not. Bootstrap Bill Turner!"
Nick yelled the name and William wasn't certain if he applied it to himself or to William.
Nick slashed out at William with his weapon, but it was a half-hearted move as though he wasn't sure how he wanted to play this moment. "Sparrow's dead now. Victim of mutiny. Victim of yer brand o' friendship." As he said the word, he slashed out viciously with his sword, causing William to duck and step aside.
Standing again, William took the offensive attacking Nick as he would any man who impugned his honor or that of his closest friend. They fought for some time, all the while William pleaded with Nick to explain himself.
Finally, Nick, fury possessing him, deflected William's blow so fiercely that Turner's sword went flying. Nick threw himself at William and held his sword at the other man's throat. "I took on yer identity to gain what I could, for none had ever 'eard of Nick Fowler. That yer not dead" An evil gleam came to his eye and William was certain he was about to die. "That makes it moreinteresting." He laughed a hollow laugh and in moments, had tied William's hands behind him and taken everything of value he had in his possession.
It was in recognizing one of the items that Nick's cackling was cut short. He waved the object at William. "Is this it? Is this the book we left with Ol' Joe?" He thrust the slim volume at his former friend, though he needn't have asked the question.
William nodded, not certain his voice had not abandoned him since his mouth felt so dry. "Aye." He finally croaked out the word. "That's it."
Nick gazed at the book and ripped it open and paged through it. William knew he wasn't the best reader, but he knew enough to follow the important parts. "Ye'll not 'ave it! That was fer us to share! You an' me an' Jack!"
"It's mine now! Fit compensation fer what you an' 'e did! It's less than what ye owe me, but I'll take it since it's more than I woulda thought I'd get! Besides, Jack's dead."
"'E might not be! I've been searchin'"
Nick shook his head impatiently. "Yer search was in vain, mate! Jack Sparrow is long dead!"
"That's what I thought about you! That's what you thought about me! We can find 'im!" William insisted hoping to appeal to the friendship he thought they'd all shared. He prepared himself for Nick's temper, but was surprised when the anger faded to be replaced by a look of cold calculation. It was a look he'd never have thought to see on Nick's face and, indeed, it looked foreign there upon the familiar features.
"I'm not dead, Bootstrap, and neither are you, but I'm about to make you wish you were."
William sighed at the memory of how long he'd sat bound in that alley. When he'd finally managed to free himself from the ropes, he'd taken to following Nick. He'd wondered why Nick hadn't gone straight to the book and done what he had to do to find what the three friends had saved, but eventually he learned that Nick wasn't attached to a ship.
Nick was a man who easily grew bored, and he often left a ship when he tired of one and finding another heading where he wanted to go.
He'd overheard Nick explaining to one of his strumpets that he was saving his money to buy a crew off so he could take over a ship and sail to find his glory. Nick was always using phrases like that. He thought they made him sound important, refined, and well on his way to earning the power he craved.
Rarely, however, did Nick stay onboard ship long enough to raise the money such bribery would cost. William had tried on several occasions to take what was his, but he'd always ended up beaten and alone as Nick sailed away.
Now the man had more leverage than any pirate needed. Will knew Nick wasn't above hurting Will. He also knew that there was no chance he'd allow Will to be hurt anymore. A plan is what they needed, and the best place to start for one of those was with Captain Jack Sparrow.
**
AnaMaria watched her captain as he steered his ship thinking how different he looked when the horizon wasn't what was on his mind. She hadn't been happy at all to find they'd been put at risk once more for Jack Sparrow's friends, but she had to admit she liked this Jack. This Jack had allowed himself to care about Will Turner. That care had extended itself to Elizabeth, and, before you knew it, the crew of the Black Pearl had elected to disregard the code and come sailing into Port Royal in hopes of rescuing Jack Sparrow from the gallows.
She shook her head at the memory. The crew had debated long and hard after they'd left that forsaken rock where Jack had fought Barbossa. She wasn't pleased with herself that she had left him, but she'd been angry with him and more than a little scared of the undead.
Looking at Jack now, she could tell his thoughts were on Will on finding a way to wriggle out of one more sticky situation. In a way, Nick, as long as he held Will, could command the Pearl well beyond this one voyage. AnaMaria didn't relish the idea of taking orders from a man so cowardly he hid himself behind an injured man to get what he wanted. That was no kind of man at all to her way of thinking.
So engrossed was she in her observations she didn't hear Gibbs approach until he spoke to her. "Cap'n's not sayin' where we be goin'."
She replied without turning her attention from Jack's pensive face. "Aye. He's more tight-lipped den usual about dis one."
Without another word, she walked to the captain's side and stood there waiting for him to comment on her presence. It took longer than it usually did for him to notice her, but when he did, a sly half smile appeared on his face. "What is it you need, AnaMaria?"
"I need a Captain who'll stand up to the likes of him what's commandeered this ship." She didn't expect the pained look in his eyes, and she almost regretted her words, but she stood defiantly, chin jutting forward and arms crossed.
"Aye, but it's not as simple as all that." He glanced back towards the doors that hid his good friend from view. "It's actually quite complicated." He whispered and she couldn't say if he was aware he'd spoken aloud.
He turned back to her, smiling and bobbing slightly to the rhythm of the sea. "There won't be much profit in it for the crew, but I'll see none of you come to harm, and I'll make it up to you."
She shook her head at his ignorance. "Jack, don't you seeit's not the profit I'm concerned about."
He frowned.
Sighing as one well put out, she slipped her arms around his neck, drew his head down to hers, and kissed him. Sweet, tender, the gentlest kiss she'd ever given to any man, she knew he finally understood just from the way he kissed back.
Stepping back she looked him in the eye and saw the dawning of realization in the bright smile he gave her–a smile of pure joy rather than of manipulation, relief or half a hundred other emotions he usually allowed himself to show.
She could tell he was searching for something to say and he finally did find it. "First Elizabeth and now you. Must be somethin' in the air."
She laughed. "Aye, it's in the air, Jack Sparrow."
"Captain" He started to correct her, but she cut him off by filling his mouth with something other than words.
**
William saw Jack and AnaMaria and hung back giving them a moment. He glanced around the ship and his eyes were caught by the sight of the sea. This was what had lured him away from home all those years ago. A lifetime agoWill's lifetime
"It's a beautiful sight."
The words surprised him almost as much as the unexpected presence of the person who'd spoken them. "Aye. It's one I've never been able to see often enough."
"Is that why you left himI mean, is that why you left England?" Elizabeth looked him in the eye and he could tell she was searching for a way to understand him.
"It is. I suppose I loved the sea too much to leave it behind"
"But you didn't love Will or his mother that much?" She didn't hide the bitterness in her voice.
"Will was better off without the likes o' me hangin' about." He looked again at the doors that shielded his son from the eyes of those who loved him.
"I don't think he'd agree with you."
"No, I don't s'pose 'e would." He whirled around to face her. "I won't make excuses for what I did"
"Good, because abandonment is inexcusable!"
"'Ear me out!" William snapped, unhappy with the way the young woman seemed intent on hating him. "I love my son. I always 'ave. I make no excuses for what I've done or the type of man I am. I searched for 'im, but I didn't know 'e'd come to the Caribbean. I was lookin' in London after I freed myself from the cannon"
"Yes, how did you manage that?"
William smiled. "I h'ad all the time in the world, didn't I? Barbossa had tied the cannon to me by my boots. He fancied himself a Gentleman's Pirate, and enjoyed the idea of Bootstrap meetin' h'is death tied by his bootstraps to a cannon. I'm a patient man. I've 'ad to be. So I worked the knots until I'd loosened the rope enough to get at me boots"
Elizabeth's eyes widened. "Where you'd hidden a knife and you cut your bonds and swam to the surface!"
William laughed. "No. Barbossa woulda noticed any weapons I mighta tried to keep. Truth is I slipped off my boots."
"You did?"
"Sure, but don't be tellin' that tale, if ye don't mind."
"Why ever not?"
"I'm already known as Bootstrap Bill. Nick's changed it a bit by his own words and deeds and now 'e's.it's Bloody Bootstrap Bill. I'd 'ate for it to be Barefoot Bloody Bootstrap Bill."
She blinked at him once or twice before the two shared a small laugh. Elizabeth looked up at him. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't judge you. It's just that Will" She sighed.
He didn't speak. If she was going to start to trust him, he didn't want to give her cause to change her mind. His patience was rewarded when Elizabeth, having found the words she needed finally spoke.
"He's not been himself. He's had nightmares since that business with Barbossa. Mostlyof you." She glanced sidelong at him.
"Of me? Nightmares? What sort? I'd never 'arm the lad!"
"Nothing like that! He's dreamed that hewhen he ended the curse he assumed you were still at the bottom of the ocean tied to that cannon. He assumed since he'd drawn the blood and tossed that gold back into the chest that you.that he"
Now, he did finish her sentence for her. "He thought 'e'd killed me." He shook his head. He was learning a lot about the type of man his son was, and it was maddening that he had yet to look upon the lad with his own eyes.
"Yes, and then with the business with Killian"
"Elizabeth, I won't abandon him. Once we get this sorted with Nick, I'll be there for 'im if 'e'll 'ave me." He looked at her in earnest hoping for the slightest hint of approval.
She, however, was distracted by his words. "Yes, and what's the story with Nick? Why does he hate you and Jack."
"That's a long story, lass"
**
The rising sun was hidden behind storm clouds as Will Turner stared out at the horizon. The water was choppy and reflected the gray of the sky, and no ships or boats dared brave such wind tossed waves. He'd found this part of his daily ritual difficult to explain even to himself, but each day, wind, rain, or sunshine, he would walk out to the docks, looking, he knew, for the familiar curve of a full sail and a familiar bow.
He couldn't afford to book passage off the island that had become his home these past few weeks, and pride would not allow him to beg or steal. He'd briefly considered turning Pirate as Jack so often half-jokingly encouraged, but he knew it was a lifestyle he could not embrace wholeheartedly. While he enjoyed the freedom, the rewards and even the hard work of a life on the sea, the dishonesty and casual attitude towards life and death was not something he would choose. He could barely reconcile himself to the fact that his father, a man he didn't know, and who he now had come to accept he would never know, had chosen to lead such a life. He knew it was likely there were reasons for such a decision, but he also knew it may have been decided on a whim or as a lark. The truth was he was certain of very little in his life, and he had sworn to himself not to assume anything anymore.
He'd assumed too much in his life and it had led him nowhere. He'd assumed Pirates were bad men, and then he had met Jack Sparrow. While certainly no saint, he was hardly as immoral and unethical a man as Will would have assumed a pirate to be. He was still ashamed of what he had done, striking Jack with that oar and leaving him behind in that cavern. He'd assumed the worst about Jack, and had acted on impulse, but that thought didn't make him feel better. Jack had never mentioned it, and he wondered if Jack ever thought of it.
Sometimes a discussion with Jack would set Will's head to spinning. Jack would casually throw an arm over Will's shoulders and show him a path seemingly paved in logic that twisted and turned around itself in such a way that all Will was often following the path long before he fully understood where it led.
Thoughts of Jack inevitably led him to thoughts of Elizabeth. He found he thought of her so much it was either as if she were with him, or as if she had only ever been imaginary, elusive, and ethereal. He ended each evening with thoughts of her. He started each morning with thoughts of her, and in between, he spent his time lost in dreams of her.
He had finally decided he had to put such thoughts and dreams behind him. They got him nowhere and the incessant ache caused by her absence and the fact that he had no clue where she was or if she were well had become unbearable.
If, as Jack insisted, there were only two rules: what a man can do and what a man can't, Will was certain of only one thing. When Elizabeth had sailed away from this wretched little island without him, she had taken his heart. He could not love another. He also could not hang his hopes on finding her again. He was beaten. Fate or the Good Lord had seen fit to separate him from his one true love–by social standing, by crazed pirates, by the disapproval of polite society, by more crazed pirates and slavers, by illness, and now by something he could not fathom. He had told Jack that he was no simpleton. It was true enough. He had learned what the world seemed to want him to learn. He would always love Elizabeth, but he could not pursue her. He did not even know where she had gone.
He puzzled over that for a moment or two before berating himself. Trying to work out where Elizabeth, Jack, and the Pearl had gone proved he'd not quite accepted the idea that he couldn't pursue her.
He cursed himself for a fool. The idea that the woman he loved, had loved all his life, and the one man he could call friend had left him behind because he had fallen behind continued to flit through his mind. Had they been following the code? Why would they do such a thing? Why would Elizabeth? Surely, she would have
He broke off the though clenching his fists so tight they trembled.
Stranded with no money and little chance of finding his way back to a home that might not even exist anymore, Will had found himself certain of little. Watching the Black Pearl sail away leaving him behind had not been easy. He still wasn't sure how he felt about it. He'd stood there in shock, disbelief, allowing panic to settle over him as he thought of what might have forced them to do such a thing. What might have happened to Elizabeth? To Jack? Were either of them alive, or had the ship been commandeered and the crew forced to leave without them as well?
That thought had filled him with hope and he had spent two days searching the small town for some sign of them. He'd searched until the wee small hours of the morning and had finally fallen into an exhausted sleep curled up in a sparse clump of trees out behind the Painted Parrot. It had been an uneasy sleep fraught with nightmares and he'd awakened in confusion at his unfamiliar surroundings until he'd remembered.
The heartache had hit him again, and he was determined to search until he found out where Elizabeth and Jack were or, if they weren't here, why they had gone.
It was midday before he found he could not go on. He hadn't eaten. He hadn't had anything to drink. He had little chance of surviving for long without finding some way to support himself, and, as luck would have it, there was one skill he could offer.
Knowing of no other way to earn a living that he would find acceptable, he made his way to the smithy. Unsure how much he should trust the large blacksmith, Will offered only to assist him.
The man eyed him skeptically. "Ye 'andled yerself well yesterday morning, lad, but 'ow do I know yer capable of work I'd be willin' ta pay fer?"
Will stared at the man, refusing to be intimidated. "If you don't like the work, you can let me go. If you do, you pay me for my labor. I'm an accomplished smith myself."
The man sighed heavily acting for all the world like he was doing Will a great favor by even considering such an arrangement, but Will could see in his eyes how much he wanted someone to do the worst tasks freeing him to do other things. Perhaps more profitable, perhaps more illegal, such things were best accomplished under the cover of legitimate business. Will knew he was taking a chance, for the man might agree now and simply not pay him later. He was not about to be a victim, however, and he knew he could find a way to deal with such a thing if he had to.
The weeks had been largely uneventful. He had not allowed himself to fall into despondency, though he could feel it tickling the edge of his awareness. It was most difficult to fight it at night as he lay upon the makeshift pallet that he'd been allowed to set up at the smithy. He could ill afford to waste money on a room, and, though he had considered sleeping outside, the idea was unappealing when he also considered the number of dishonest men roaming around this island. Since he had to keep whatever he owned with him at all times, he would be too easy a target for thieves sleeping rough.
His evenings were long and solitary giving his mind little to do but wander among his memories and ponder what might be happening to Elizabeth and Jack. He had placed his pallet strategically on a spot on the floor where he could gaze out the window and see the stars if sleep would not come. It also permitted the first light of dawn to wake him. Will was learning to sleep lightly and to time his sleep so that he was first to wake. He did not like being defenseless, and had decided when the Pearl had departed leaving him with nothing but the clothes upon his back that he would not be caught unawares again.
As he watched the gray sky and choppy waters, his mind drifted to last night's ordeal. He had known it would happen. Sleep had been long in coming, and, in gazing through his window, the full moon had shone brightly casting it's reflected light upon his face. The moon recalled many things to him, but most vivid were the horrors it had shown him when its light had touched Barbossa's crew.
It had been unnerving to say the least when he realized there was no bargaining with a crew who had nothing to lose. That's why it had surprised him so much when Jack had bargained. Barbossa had fallen for every word Sparrow had said, and Will had played along not knowing the details of Jack's planned deception, but somehow trusting him.
Last night, however, the sight of the moon, the scent of the sea on the air, his own fatigue and exhaustion, and the inescapable fact that once again, for whatever reason, he had been abandoned, had combined to give him a sort of waking nightmare.
He'd been haunted again by the image of his father dying pinned beneath a cannon at the bottom of the ocean. His mind's eye was crueler than his unconscious dreams, however, and he found the image would not dissipate. The image did not waver. It did not move on or shift, or change or leave him. He stared into the cold, lifeless eyes of his father, eyes that looked remarkably like the ones that stared back at him from the mirror each morningwell, when he'd had a mirror.
When Jack had told him his father might be alive, Will had not reacted right away, and now, knowing he was probably dead, perhaps at the hands of the very man who had usurped his name and reputation, he found the dreams had grown more insistent. They held him, haunted him, and horrified him each night, and now, they had found a way to come upon him even when sleep eluded him.
The underwater scene was eventually overtaken by the image of the Pearl sinking. Why his tired mind would conjure such a thing, he could not say, but conjure it did. He imagined Jack aboard as it sank slowly beneath the blue waters of the Caribbean, and, as if that thought did not terrify him enough, he soon saw Elizabeth.
He imagined her fighting for breath, desperate to stay above water, recalling when he himself had done the same aboard the sinking Interceptor. Yet, in the end, the sea seemed to abide by the rule those who sailed upon her surface so oft quoted: take what you can, give nothin' back.
The sea, Will had heard from several pirates, was a harsh mistress, and, when angered, was more dangerous than any might understand if they saw only calm blue waters, white sands, and palm trees. With a sky as gray as the storm ravaged one before him, the ocean turned from benevolent goddess to shrieking shrew. Ships were easily overwhelmed in such weather, and, though Will's own sailing experience was limited, he had a healthy respect for the power of a storm. His old ship, the one Barbossa and the Pearl had sunk when he'd been thirteen, had been through two such terrifying nights. A seemingly endless storm had tossed them about like a paper cup. Congratulating themselves on their luck had been premature for only a week later Barbossa had found them.
He hadn't laid eyes on Barbossa all those years ago, but he had heard the man's voice. Cowering in a dark corner, he'd heard the Captain bellowing in rage when he could not find some treasure he wanted. He had not understood that it was his own medallion. If he had turned it over, he wondered, would the people aboard that ship have survived?
He sighed heavily and watched the skies darken rather than lighten. Today would be a rough day indeed. Many businesses were already placing heavy wooden slats over doors and many people had opted to leave the port city and find refuge on higher ground. Will could have done so, but caught in the nightmare images of his waking dreams and the heavy weight in his heart, he found he did not care if he survived this day.
To Be Continued
Jackfan2: Did you like your Jack/Ana moment? There will probably be more. I'm glad you like the longer chapters! This one's fairly long as well. I'm not sure how long the story will be, but it's likely to be several more chapters at least. There's a lot I have to do!
Catherinexxix: Thanks! (Blushes) You're so flattering! I'm glad you like the way I wrote Elizabeth. I was afraid I wasn't doing her justice. I watched the movie again the other day so I could get a better feel for her for this chapter, too. There is something developing between the Captain and AnaMaria. I don't know how much will develop, but as I said, I've got lots of chapters to explore it! Will is likely to have abandonment issues! More on that coming up!
Ping*pong5: Nick is pretty crafty and there's so much more to the history between the trio. You got some of that in this chapter, but there's more to come.
Lord Lanceahlot: Thanks! I'm glad you liked it. I was afraid there was too much going on. I tend to write shorter chapters but these last few have been much longer. Don't worry, though this chapter was a little serious, our poor friends will start to fight back soon!