Chapter 1
If you did not know, this is slash, so don't flame me for writing a slash story!
Notes: There will be many flashbacks in this story. I am going to mark them with "~~~~~~~~~~~~~". Dreams will be in italics, along with thoughts and other such conversations with oneself. All other markers will be traditional. It isn't that complicated, but I needed to make note of it.
Hope you enjoy the story!
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Jack Sparrow's eyes stung and this wasn't just because of the familiar salt spray. No, he was below deck, huddled in his cabin on the two-person bed. His mind was in a state of hysteria, even three weeks after the incident. The full truth had not penetrated to his lowest layers of existence; therefore, he was still alive.
Will was still alive, that is.
"Will," Jack mumbled so unlike himself. He looked to the other side of the bed. It was as if Will's body made indentions on those sheets now, and even with Jack's mad tossing and turning, he could not erase them. The man's imprint was still there, his smile, his frown, his sigh, his laugh, his warmth, his gentle touch...
Jack freed himself from these miserable recollections, too close to the brink of breakdown. He couldn't collapse, not just yet. He was still a captain, wasn't he? He was a pirate captain at that.
How can I say that when this is Will? Will was such a good friend. Will was more than just that. Will, my love, Will! He cried out into the abyss of his ravaged mind. There was no answer though, not even a little spark of hope, nothing. All traces of dreams departed along with that body, whisked away in the frothing waves.
Was it not enough for Jack almost to lose his ship? Must the injury only increase with the loss of Will? He pounded his fist on the mattress, letting free a great roar. How could it happen to Will? Why not someone, anyone, else? Why Will?
"The whelp," he muttered. He cast his eyes about the room. Most memories of Will he had moved into one corner: his trunk and other belongings all together. He most likely would have had it that way; Will was always a little fussy of the placement of the items. Still, Jack kept their shared cabin a wreck, strewing his belongings wherever suited him, tossing discarded rum jugs to the floor, leaving out maps, putting his effects in whatever place best suited him. In the process, this scattered Will's things, and he gave up in trying keeping them orderly.
Looking across the floor now, Jack's eyes came to rest on a small piece of metal. He looked at it strangely. He rose from the bed and approached it, gingerly lifting it from the floor. It was a flat, round, silver object in fact. Engraved on it was a ship, sails free, water scattered around it. Little scatterings of gems made up the sky and water, along with some of the ship's planking. Jack turned it over in his hands and found an inscription on the back.
"For my dear Willam who I fear I will never set eyes upon again." There was no name on it, but Jack needed no name to register it. It was the small gift Elizabeth gave to Will, a token of their faded love. Will treasured it as a small memoir of his abandoned life long ago. Jack looked outward to the sea now, wondering briefly if he should toss it in so it might be closer to Will; the boy was so loath to part with it. Jack hesitated just a moment, running his hand along the inscription again.
No, he would keep it. Maybe, just maybe, Will was out there. Even Elizabeth only made a guess in that inscription (though she had unwavering hope for the smallest of things). Jack had to look again at those sails and just pray that Will lived, somehow. Maybe a ship rescued him. Maybe somehow, after flying into the crashing waves, he did in fact life.
With new determination, Jack put the silver in his pocket and strode (he had not been drinking as much as usual, in a memory of Will's hatred for his constant state of drunkenness) out into the fading evening light.
***
"Cap'n, ye know this's risky," Anamaria reminded Jack as he climbed into the boat. Jack looked over his shoulder to her and flashed a grin.
"No, it isn't. I'm leaving the Pearl in good hands, and I'm sure she won't be too angry at my return, especially with the news I bring." His smile faded, replaced by the all too familiar sulk. His eyes dimmed, and he gave the signal to lower it slowly.
"Aye, aye cap'n," she replied, "we'll be waitin' for ye 'ere." Jack smiled a small smile and rowed out into the darkness, leaving the crew alone to wait those long hours for their captain.
Jack knew very well what he was doing was risky. He had all the chances of being recaptured and charged for the same crimes and hung, but his heart would not settle unless he confronted Elizabeth again. He couldn't leave her in the dark about Will, not when she cared so deeply about him. No, it was time to face those streets of Port Royal again, time to confront the lass one last time.
Jack tried to recall every bit of information he knew about the town, what streets there were, what we less traveled than most. He had to avoid one street at all costs. If caught there, his entire plan would shatter in just moments. One swinging sign could throw him off in seconds. Sadly, that was the only street he paused on long enough to notice visible markers, so he would have to find another way to the governor's mansion, where he suspected Elizabeth still lived.
He stowed the boat in the darkest place on the docks, stepping off very lightly so he wouldn't alert any of the watchmen. Jack took a deep breath and darted from shadow to shadow, avoiding large pools of light or wandering bodies of men.
Once in the town itself, he found this a much easier task. There were a few occasional lamps up here and there in front of taverns, but nothing more. It wasn't as if those drunken men would notice him if they saw him; it had been almost six months since he last set foot here. So, he casually sauntered up the street, keeping his hat low and not taking too fast of a pace so he didn't attract attention. First and foremost was getting to Elizabeth; he could not stand a confrontation right now.
After a long walk, he found it easier to see the mansion upon the hill. He guessed the main road led up to it, so he kept going on this wide expanse. Not many people traversed it either, for it was almost midnight at least. There was an occasional drunk, but they would wave to Jack only. He did not give a response back to them, so they passed him by.
Jack was almost there, he could see. He quickened his pace, ready to make it there.
Something stopped him.
It was as simple as the creaking of a sign, but it made Jack turn to the right, where an old street led off. A sign blew in the wind, creaking on its wooden hinges. Jack watched it swing, and when it caught a bit of light, he saw its familiar surface. There was the shop that began his love, there sat the place where he set eyes on the greatest of men; there was the blacksmith's shop.
Jack's resolved wavered, his feet propelling him towards that sign. He forcefully stopped. It took him great effort to stop from screaming and cursing and yelling at that shop, stop him from crying to Will. Still, he managed to keep quiet and stopped his progress. After five minutes, he had the will to turn around. He could not bear the sight of that shop any more.
The governor's mansion was nothing spectacular compared to some houses Jack had seen, but it was large and daunting for his task. Firstly, he did not know where Elizabeth slept. There were so many rooms that he had just as much chance of accidentally stumbling upon the governor's room. That would put a cork (or a knot, really) in any further plans. Well, he would have to guess. Rubbing his hands together, he approached one side the building. It was dark save one candle burning in a solitary second story room. Jack took a gander and decided to try this first.
There were some vines growing up the brick, but he did not know how firm they were. So, he stood on the first story windowsill and stretched up; there was about five feet space between him arm and that lighted window. He grasped on of the vines and tugged on it. It came off in his hands in little clumps. Infuriated, he threw it to the ground. Suddenly, his eyes brightened, and he looked up to the window again. A smile crept on his lips, and he jumped to the ground.
He found some stones on the ground, small enough not to make a ruckus if they hit the window. Jack hefted one, stepped back, took aim, and threw it at the window. It hit dead center, and he heard a muffled little yelp from inside. There was some scrambling and shoving. The window opened, and a familiar face stuck its head outside. Jack waved and called quietly.
"Elizabeth, down here, luv," he used that term to get her attention. Elizabeth looked down, saw Jack, and almost shrieked again. She put her hand over her mouth and rushed from the window, leaving a bemused Jack to wait for her return.
She did return, with some tied up sheets. She cast the makeshift rope down, accidentally hitting Jack in the head. He swiped it away and skillfully scaled its length. Elizabeth helped him over the windowsill, all the while whispering questions to him.
"What happened? Why are you here? You could be hanged for returning! It isn't safe for you here, Jack. What would bring you back so late? I didn't think you'd want to stay here." Jack shushed her and glanced around the room. He then shot her a suspicious look.
"First, I have only one question for you, dearie," she glared at that term, "why are you up so late?" She sat down on her bed and sighed.
"I was just admiring the water," she whispered. "You know, Will." Jack gulped and steeled himself at the onslaught of paralyzing emotions. "Speaking of Will, where is he? I bet he would have liked to see Port Royal again if you returned." Jack sat down beside Elizabeth, as much to steady himself as to make a point he was not going to be light about anything.
"Will would have like it," he began, "if he was here." It took a moment for that to sink in. Elizabeth gasped and took Jack's hands.
"What happened to him? What happened to Will?" she almost shrieked. Jack took a deep breath and turned away when he felt the unfamiliar sting of tears.
"There was a storm," he muttered, "I barely could keep the Pearl afloat, much less look after Will. I thought he could have stood up himself, but only when I had the Pearl righted again did I hear his screams. I looked over and saw his hand disappear into the waves." He choked on a sob. Elizabeth dropped his hands, letting the crying shake her entire form. She put her head in her hand and rocked back and forth.
"Jack, you lie, don't you?" she mumbled, seizing the hem of his jacket like a lunatic. She stared up at him through her puffy eyes. "You have to jest, Jack. Will wouldn't be gone like that. Will is strong." She let out a hiccup/laugh. "Come on, Jack, tell me the truth about Will.
All Jack could squeak out is, "I did." Elizabeth sniffed, suddenly falling on Jack grasping his coat tightly, burying her head in his shirt.
"No, it's all wrong," she sobbed. Jack, after a little uncertainty, held her head for comfort. "Will is not dead." She put her arms around Jack like a little girl and cried her eyes dry. Jack rocked her back and forth, guessing this was right, and stroked her golden hair. She ranted some more about Will being alive, somehow washed onto an island, still in the waves somewhere, but all these possibilities Jack already mulled over long ago. He knew most to be false.
"Jack, maybe someone," she started, but the breath left her at the sight of Jack when she looked up. There was water on his cheek, too.
***
Elizabeth sniffed and wiped her eyes, standing shakily. Jack assisted her in righting herself, and she leaned on him the entire way back to the window. The sky lightened, and Jack feared that his boat had not gone unnoticed. He turned around to Elizabeth, giving her a brief hug.
"Please, Jack," she pleaded, "Don't give up looking for him. Go on being a pirate, that's all right, but never give up looking for Will. Maybe someone found him, and he is on another boat. There is always a chance of that, Jack. There is always a chance." She sounded like she tried now to convince herself of this. Jack squeezed her hand.
"Lass, don't think I'd ever give up looking for the whelp," he assured her. "Every town I find I'll ask about him. I'll find him someday."
"Promise me then you'll bring him back. I want to see Will again if he lives."
"I promise that if Will has no objections." He gave Elizabeth another embrace and slipped out the window into the fading cover of night. Elizabeth turned seaward, her heart breaking as she too saw Will's body crashing upon the waves that fateful night.
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Please review this story! *grins evilly* I do sad endings very well, you see, and I also do happy middles very well, you see, and if you are thinking, I believe that you DO see. Who knows, Will's future (or Jack's for that matter) is currently in the air.
Jack's future: No, I'm not.
Me: You know what I mean.
So review!