Disclaimer: I do not have permission to be writing this...

AN (3/20): Right. So, this chapter was incredibly hard to write. I didn't think it would be so bad...until I mapped out the dialogue yesterday on the way home from a visit to my future college campus...goodness, I couldn't get past a specific spot...
To top it all off, I'm getting discouraged. Come on, people. Leave a review. Even if you hate it. I need some feedback...I'm very very insecure about my writing, after all.
Sorry its so short...after the long one last time...well, no. It's short because I didn't want to get halfway through what's going to happen next chapter.

One More Day: Chapter 10

"And then they made you their chief?" Will asked suspiciously, regarding me almost like someone regards a child telling an obvious lie. Why couldn't he believe me? If I told everyone the truth from this point on, no one would believe me. I actually had been made the chief of a community (though, it wasn't on the godforsaken spit of land I was referring to in telling the story to Will (seeing as I'd made myself governor there) after he'd asked me about being marooned) in South America. No one seemed to think that was really possible. But the bone in my hair came from a jaguar I'd killed down in the remote jungles (I had to do something with myself during those ten years the Pearl'd been kidnapped) as it had attacked the tribe's wisest sage and chief. As a reward of saving my life, they'd whittled one of the bones into something I could tie into my hair and had made me a chief. Of course, they knew and I knew that that had really been just a reward...I didn't actually have any power on their Council of Chiefs or whatnot. It was still a great privilege, though. And no one believed me when I told them I'd been made a chief before. I could always tell things as they'd really happened...but if people knew how it really happened, most of the mystery surrounding me would disappear and people would see me as I really am. That is something I'd hate to have happen.

Will was staring at me, clearly waiting for some response. Bah. I'd been seeing too much of the whelp lately. It wasn't like he was a bad chap, for he really seemed to care about my opinions on everything and seemed especially interested when I told him stories that could potentially involve Bootstrap. Of course, I usually left Bootstrap out of my stories...that man was scum. If he wasn't most likely dead, I'd tell Will exactly what I thought of his father. "Well, yes."

Will was thoughtful for a moment. It was amusing, seeing him think. It almost seemed to be a crime against nature, actually. Or a crime against his face. His light brown eyes shone with confusion and his thick left eyebrow was arched in a most curious manner as he tried to absorb my twisted views of reality. "Really?" His voice was full of both doubt and amazement. He was obviously trying to sort out what he really thought about me still. I was a man full of surprises, after all.

"Yes," I confirmed almost tiredly. Not that I really was tired. I was just sick of all his questions about the credibility of my stories. It did my heart good to think that he was thinking critically about what people told him...but it also bothered me that he didn't trust me. Even though I'd been going to his stupid blacksmith shop to talk to him a lot. Will had a lot of complaining about Elizabeth to get off his chest. Obviously their marriage wasn't all peaches and cream like he thought it would've been. She truly was a spoiled brat who was now going without most of the things she was used to. Physical comforts are always more important than feelings, after all. To make matters worse, (Will had only just confided this to me yesterday) Elizabeth desperately wanted to have a baby. But it appeared she couldn't. Either something was wrong with her or something was wrong with him...but they were both grumpy and miserable as a result. No wonder Elizabeth had been so jealous of my bonny lass...she seemed to be living vicariously through her at the moment.

"Oh." He sure had a lot to say as he turned to look at their stupid noisy clock. The constant tick tock was driving me insane. It seemed to make the wait take that much longer...each word seemed to take me twice as long to say. I was waiting for word of the birth of my child, actually...and I'd been waiting for nearly six hours already. Not that I was mad that I was being inconvinienced...my lass certainly had it worse than I did as I sat in the front parlor talking to Will.

His tone of voice was really annoying me. I wasn't in the mood to be annoyed. "Ye don' believe me, is tha' it?" I asked incredulously.

"Well, it does seem quite..." Will paused for the longest moment trying to think of the word he wanted. He finally settled with, "impossible," as he calmly surveyed me for any hint of a reaction he could use to validate his rather correct assumption that it was farfetched. How could I be a chief of a deserted island? I should've remembered that he would've talked to Elizabeth...well, maybe he hadn't heard her side of the story. That was probably a night that Elizabeth dreamed of forgetting.

I smiled slightly at the use of the word impossible. People really limited their own possibilities, by using hat word. Hadn't Will learned that, during our little escapade to rescue the fair Elizabeth Swann? "There really aren't many things that are impossible, mate. Jus' improbable."

"What?" Will was clearly confused by the turn in the conversation. I don't think he realized (yet) that I enjoyed rambling about anything that involved the impossible, the improbable, freedom, women, rum, or the Black Pearl.

I pretended that he'd really responded with something other than just a stupid 'what.' I didn't need to have another person around to carry on a conversation. I could do it all by my onesies. "Take me, for instance. Did ye think I'd ever be wiv only one woman before we showed up on your doorstep two an' a half weeks ago?"

"No." He looked like he was about to say more...

I decided to cut him off. He'd answered my question exactly the way I'd wanted him to. "What would ye 'ave told anyone who'd seen me wiv her before you saw me with her if they'd been tryin' t' tell ye I was wiv someone?"

It took him a moment to work through that jumble of words I'd flung at him. I liked confusing people that way. While they were busy thinking of how they should respond, it gave me longer to assess the situation and stay a step (or two) ahead of their evil plans. "I would have said that was impossible."

"Exactly." I paused for a moment, hoping he'd supply that it had really been improbable, instead of impossible...but he was still staring at me as the clock continued its constant monologue that no one would ever give a smashing review to. I sighed inwardly and continued, "Obviously it was possible, though, or I wouldn' be 'ere wiv her now. It was merely improbable. I 'ave a knack for doing the improbable."

Will seemed to agree with that, for he sent a small smile in my direction. Of course, he'd been the one to see me use such brilliance as walking underwater with the help of a boat. It couldn't be that hard for him to agree with me having a knack for doing the improbable, eh? Not if he had at least half the intelligence Bootstrap had. "Well, then...what is impossible?"

That through me for a bit of a loop, so to speak. I didn't think he'd been analyzing what I'd been saying that much. I'd assumed he'd fling some stupid comment about my knack for the improbable...but he was actually processing information and finding questions. I thought for a moment and replied, "Flying like birds. Everything else is pretty much fair game. Of course, ye also 'ave t' have a slight grasp of common sense, t' do the improbable."

"Very slight, in your case," Will interjected before I could clarify my point further. He seemed amused with the look of slight shock and admiration that flashed across my face before I could stop it. Will wasn't one to generally catch me so unaware. His barbs usually were predictable...

...I had left myself open, though. Only a fool wouldn't capitalize of a moment to make fun of the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow. "Yes, well..." I started. I almost got the next word out of my mouth as Elizabeth suddenly burst through the door. She looked incredibly exhausted and worried...that sent my stomach in a bit of a fit. What if something had happened to my lass? Or to the baby? Infant mortality was stunningly high, after all, and there was a very good chance the mother would die, too. Having children was not for the faint of heart.

"Jack?" Elizabeth asked swiftly, wiping at her brow with her hand. She was incredibly sweaty...and just looking at her seemed to make my temperature go up as well. Will shifted uncomfortably in his seat, seemingly feeling guilty for just making fun of me before bad news hit. As if he had control of bad news. Bootstrap was the same way. He'd feel guilty without a reason. And then he'd stick his grubby little hands in other people's business to try and make it right. The Turners...who needed men so racked by guilt? Especially on a pirate ship? Why were they blessed with such skill with the blade?

"What?" I asked, trying to mask the worry in my voice as I almost leaped out of the chair. I bumped a small table and a vase full of vibrant flowers tipped over, spilling precious life-sustaining water all over the rug. The flowers would be dead in at least an hour, if not less. Neither Will or Elizabeth seemed to notice the blue vase tipped on its side and the flowers almost already visibly wilting without that precious fluid. I wasn't about to point it out, either...I was far too worried about the look on Elizabeth's generally fair face.

"Come quickly," she replied, turning and rushing out of the door. I followed, keeping pace with her up their staircase and into the 'forbidden' room. This had to be serious. Midwives generally did not let men witness the birth of their children. It just wasn't proper. Men weren't supposed to acknowledge the fact that women had legs or hips or anything else...just a pretty face. Society was horribly restricting.

Elizabeth motioned me past the miserably sweaty old toad attending to my lass. I nodded and she grabbed a few clean towels before rushing downstairs to fetch more of the boiling water. I slowly walked over to the side of the bed, completely dazed as to what was going on.

She was on the bed, her beautiful hair spilling onto the pillow. Near her forehead, her hair was sticking at odd angles from mostly dried sweat. She managed a feeble smile as her small hand found mine and squeezed it. "Hello," she croaked. She looked absolutely exhausted. And still very pregnant. This wasn't good. Women weren't supposed to give up halfway through labor, right? Not that I thought she'd given up, mind you. She just looked too tired to have a baby. I wanted to scream at that demon child of mine to stop giving their mother so much grief...but that wouldn't accomplish anything.

"'Lo, luv," I replied, trying to sound more calm than I really was as the short and squat woman down at the foot of the bed kept alternating between evil glances at me and checking my lass's progress. "How ye doin'?"

She sighed slightly, her face contorting with pain as a muffled cry escaped her lips. Her hand clamped down on mine tighter than I thought possible. Actually, I'd never felt such a crushing handgrip...my fingers felt as though they were all broken. Not that I could blame her. From what I could see...actual labor was pure Hell. Doubly so for her. I knew that there were such things as painkillers from where she came from...but here...well, that was rum and or ale. Even then pain generally made people pass out during such horrible ordeals. "I hate you," she murmured, glaring at me after the contraction let her breathe again. "I hate you I hate you I hate you."

"I know," I replied, glancing down at the hand she was holding. Goodness, it was all white and red...she'd surely squeeze it again in a moment. "I don' blame ye, either."

"I hate you!" she sobbed. The sob suddenly stopped as a ear-splitting scream filled the small room. "Get it out!" she cried., once the scream abated. My eardrums were ringing. I hadn't realized she'd had lungs that strong. Of course, I'd never heard her scream like this before. "Now!"

The midwife merely shook her head, glancing up from whatever the heck it was she was doing down there. It really was worrying me, if I were to be completely honest. Her plain little face was scrunched up in deep thought as she lifted my lass's underdress to have another check. I assume she was checking how far dialated my lass was...but I didn't know for sure. I knew nothing about babies or how they were born. Nor did I really want to know. I was feeling light headed and I could see why men generally weren't allowed to witness the miracle of birth. "Naw, lass. Ye'll 'ave t' get it out yourself. Start pushin'."

I watched in absolute horror as she did just that. She paused every few minutes to get a deep breath and to get a better grip on my hand. This was...wow. Amazing. In a bad way. I wasn't even aware when Elizabeth entered the room again because the midwife was saying something that sounded like the baby was just about to crown. I must've blanked out for a moment...because before I knew it, I was watching the midwife pull the child from my lass and cut the umbilical cord. That nasty cord was choking the baby. The midwife then hastily unwrapped the umbilical cord from my beautiful daughter. She was a horrible blackish-blue color for the longest time. I couldn't even tear my eyes from that horrible scene to look at my lass, who was whimpering something about the pain...about all the pain.

The midwife soon managed to get the cord off and turned the baby upside down, vigorously spanking it while repeating, "Breathe, baby, breathe," so fast I could hardly make sense of what was going on. This was going too fast. Too fast. I was lightheaded and nearly cried with relief as I saw the baby change color and cry. It was a quiet cry (my daughter clearly didn't like being treated that way) but it was still music to my ears. I turned to look down at my lass and inform her of our child's gender and condition...but...

She was staring blankly up at me.


BLAH
: Thanks for the review. As for your comment...well, I try to stick in a lot of things that people obsessed with Pirates of the Caribbean should find funny. Otherwise my chapters would be far too dry. Plus, Jack's views on other people are rather funny and unexpected. I'm glad you like that it is from Jack's POV (tis exhausting for me to write it that way. I have to think like him) and that you want me to keep updating. Hope you enjoy this pivotal and climatical chapter... And that you'll leave me another review.
Eccentric Banshee: Thanks for teasing me, loff. I enjoy being teased. Well, being teased is better than being poked. My older brother likes to do both, actually. He's a goober and I'm rambling.
I'm not on Spring Break until this Wednesday, actually. My school district bites. -growls at it- Ah well.
I hope you managed to kick your brother's butt! Thanks for the constant encouragement!
Raisin: Gah. You were so not mushy. Mushy is like...saying you can't live without someone else. That's mushy. And so is rotten fruit.
Yeah...Elizabeth did take a fall in society's eyes. One she's rather sore about. I think she might've hit her tailbone and bruised it or something. Top that all off with her inability to have children...poor lass. I also try to be very realistic, even though this isn't specifically real. Which is a pity...I just needs me a fictional time machine to go back and see Jack.
Jack and Will hugging...yeah. That would just be too weird. Which is why they reacted that way. I was toying with the idea of more animosity on Will's part...but I decided to make him the nice guy.
A lot of people think something happened on that island...I think Jack didn't let anything happen on that island because Elizabeth said no. He's got horribly liberal views on women...back then, men usually didn't think that women meant no when they said no unless they were nobility. And a pirate...well, Jack was also depressed to be on that island again. He let himself get completely wasted so he wouldn't have to bother trying to talk to Elizabeth or something.
Thank you so very much for the review! I always love reading yours...they're interesting, entertaining, and informative.
IamCaptainJackSparrow: Viruses are evil. I hate them. My computer...died because of one. Evil. People who make viruses are evil people. Thanks for the review, Jack.
Daisy: Lazy is good. You get prize. Prize you get: chapstick. Thanks for encouragement. And for leaving review. You are supportive. Speaking in small sentences. Duh. Thank you, again.