I'm sorry if that took a while to post! But I hope you'll still read this story. Next chapter should come very soon. It's finally getting to the part of the story that I want to write.
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Chapter 5
A long streak of lightning broke the sky, illuminating the dark seascape. Waves crashed against the ship, lapping over on the sides and drenching the crew above. Somewhere, a far distant voice called out, but that was lost on the wind, with all the other voices.
Jack held the wheel with a death grip. There was little hope to have any control in this storm, but if he could hold out just a little bit longer. It had been going on a long time. He knew that in one more hour, bright skies would shine overhead again. If he could just hold a bit longer.
"It's not going to let up!" Will shouted. He struggled towards Jack, clinging to the railing to steady himself. Another wave crashed over the ship, sending him sprawling to the ground. "Jack, we can't go on like…"
"Are you giving in?" Jack asked quietly. Will stared at Jack, and Jack returned his gaze.
"No," Will said. He turned around, scrambling back towards the crew. Jack watched the figure until he could no longer see him. The ship tilted again, crashed by a wave, and Jack slid to one side. The wheel slid with him, spinning as he moved, but Jack righted himself and held the ship steady. Just a little longer.
Somewhere, Jack thought he heard a feeble cry, someone calling his name. He looked upwards at the sky, wondering. Not yet, he pleaded. This can't be my end. But the voice was not a call from another life.
"Will!" he heard Anamaria shouting. Jack peered into the storm, and picked up the repeated sound of his name. "Man overboard!" Jack's hands loosened on the wheel, his heart stopping immediately. Was he hearing correctly? The way it added up…no, don't think about that. Keep on. He's on this ship, I know it.
Will felt himself sinking lower and lower into the waves, but he fought to stay afloat. He called out for Jack, for anyone really, but mostly for Jack. He was not going to die now. His lover was on that ship! Jack, where are you? Jack, help me. For once, I cannot help myself! He fought to stay afloat, but he could no longer see the hull of the Black Pearl. The wind only carried the crash of the waves around him and the thunder above. There was no other sound. He let out a long wail, but he could no longer catch the sound of his own voice.
He looked up at the sky above him, dark and hopeless, glaring down at him. Rain pounded his face and stung his eyes, but he did not blink. His limbs felt heavy, very heavy. He could not lose consciousness. He had promised not to give up, hadn't he? Jack's face flashed before his eyes, as if illuminated by the lightning in front of him. The sweet face of Jack. Will reached for it, but it dissipated. To his right he thought he heard the man's laughter. To his left he heard Jack moan, whispering incoherent words in the darkness of their cabin. Jack's shadow graced over him, their lips touching. Will craned up his head to find it behind him, to reach out, grab a strand of beads, and pull himself to safety.
But all he found was water and darkness.
The next thing that Will felt was sand on his back. He had drifted so far from the ship that he made it to an island and beached himself. He coughed up some water and plummeted into darkness again.
And when he awoke, he was in a foreign world.
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"Jack!" The world around him was fuzzy, hazy in a sort of twilight, probably just before morning. His head ached and he felt too tired. It was morning; he should be awake. He tried to sit up where he was, but the world spun and he fell back on the cobblestones.
"It's moving!" he heard someone cry. Three children crowded around him. Their pale faces were blending together in a swirl of color, sometimes accented by a flash of hair or clothing. He could not make out the difference. He felt so weak, so tired.
"Poor him," a little boy said, shaking his head and making clicking sounds. A girl, probably around nine, knelt down beside him and put a hand to his cheek.
"Are you okay?" she questioned, but her two friends gasped and yanked her away from it.
"Don't touch it!" said the third, another girl of about four.
"Who knows what's wrong with him. No one sleeps out on the streets if they want to stay alive," the boy proclaimed with a smirk. The girl slapped the back of his head, glaring.
"Well, he's obviously alive, so there's nothing to worry about." She smiled again and squatted down beside the prone figure. She put both of her hands behind him, and with all her strength, lifted him up. He struggled to help her, but how weak he was. He groaned in pain. "I'm sorry about them, really. We found you outside our house and were curious."
"What's…the time?" he said. He looked around him, trying to figure it out, but there was no sign in the overcast sky to help him. All three of them looked up and around.
"Dunno," the boy answered, "probably around eight in the morning. You can't really tell it what with the clouds, but it is. Mother says it's because the va…"
"That's enough," the older girl commanded sharply. The boy slowly closed his mouth and crossed his little arms.
Slowly, the haze surrounding the man's vision cleared, and he looked around him. Memories floated in and out of his head, not exactly clear just yet, but he would find them sometime. He glanced around at his surroundings. The buildings were all stone, strong structures with vines creeping up them in some places. The cobbled street below him was made of dark stones. Currently, he was leaning against the side of a building. A cool sea breeze tickled his face. Sea breeze…sea breeze…
"No," he whispered. Suddenly, he sprang up, despite the protests in all of his body. The world spun around him; he grasped the wall for support. "No, no, no!" The children backed fearfully away from him.
"Are you all right, sir," the sweet girl inquired. But he was moving down the street away from them.
"Yes!" he called. "I am fine, but I must find the port! Maybe I will return…" He broke into a lopsided run, keeping balance as best he could with his pounding headache and weak limbs. Damn those sailors, he shouted inside his head. They were the ones to press so many drinks upon him and then desert him, just as he presumed. He followed the scent of the ocean. The buildings around him thinned out. He stumbled forward, forcing himself onward even if he could not feel or see because of the horrid headache. He fell forward to the ground, landing with a splash in a puddle of water. He lifted up his face, glanced around, before staggering to his feet and charging ahead.
Suddenly, the buildings vanished, and in front of him was the port, the water glowing slightly in a dim morning light. Men busied themselves all around, doing who knows what. He slowed to a walk and hurried towards the nearest man.
"The Fleeting Dream?" the man replied to his questioning. "Well, I think it embarked this morn, early. Sorry ye missed i'." He suddenly felt very weak, more so then before. They were gone without him, deserting him in this unknown town where he was cut off from all other civilization.
"God, no," he muttered, turning around. He ran a hand through his tangled hair. "But I have to leave here!" he said aloud.
"Oh," the man behind him exclaimed. "Yer that other crew member, no?" He nodded once. "Just wha' I though. Said they had to leave you 'ere, now that you had come. Sorry 'bout that, I really am." The man made to turn around, but a hand clamped down on his shoulder.
"But I have to get out of here!" he shouted. "I have to go back. Someone's looking…I know that he's searching, no matter how long it's been. He's always searching, always watching, waiting. If I am here then his search is in vain and I am dead in his mind. I am alive! I have to get out of here. Do you have any other ships?" The man shook off the hand.
"No, we don't," he responded kindly. "Well, unless we have to use those, but we rarely do. Sorry, lad, that they ran off on ye like that. Just the way it is," the man shrugged his shoulders.
With a sigh, the lost soul turned back to the ocean. He took a few steps along the quay towards the sea. Why did it have to happen like this? What misfortune brought along this desertion? And what was he to do about this? For all he knew, his past life was over, the life before the Fleeting Dream, that is. No more connection to his beloved, nothing to keep him grounded in his old life.
"Listen, if ye want a good inn to stay at there's one a bit down. Ye look a bit tired and pale. Lie down some…" The words floated past his ear. He turned listlessly in the direction the man was pointing him to see the first inn on the wharf.
"Tonight," he muttered. "I'll go there tonight." Now, he needed some time to wander around…or anything to get his mind off the problems in front of him. The Fleeting Dream was gone. There were no other ships that sailed from this port, meaning there was no way for him to return back to his home.
He stumbled away from the man, who called out to him, and made his way far away from the ocean that called to him.
~~~~Two weeks later~~~~~~
"So…well…we aren't getting very far then," Jack said, staring out across the calm seas. In the distance, he could see the faint outline of their companion ship, not making any headway either. Jack cursed and glared up to the sky where a blistering sun beat down upon them. "When there's damn good reason to get somewhere I can't get anywhere!" He slammed his hat on his head and stomped down to the main deck from the wheel. Beads of sweat trickled down his face and into his eyes. He blinked a few times to clear his eyes. A wind would be a nice change from this blistering sun...and then they would be moving.
It had been like this for two days now, completely calm, steady weather, no wind, no clouds, only sea and sun and sky. Dead calm, dead calm...oh Will I would be coming, if I could. Damn this all! If something doesn't happen soon I will have to get angry.
Jack made his way back to his cabin, calling something out to Anamaria on the way. He threw open the door before slamming it back behind him. His head pounded. He bent down towards the floorboards. Carefully, Jack pried one free. He cast a fearful glance around before pulling an unopened bottle of rum free. The amber liquid glowed in the bright sunlight. Jack stood up, fell back on his bed, and took a long swig of it. He felt better already.
"This'll pass. It always passes. Always..." he told himself before letting himself drink his way out of reality.
***
Jack dreamed again that night.
He saw a smashed ship upon the rocks of an unknown island, its hull cracked, the mast sticking up in one final resistance to the frothing waves around it. On the mast flew a pirate flag, his pirate flag, with a skeleton holding a cutlass, an hourglass beside it. Jack's vision skimmed over the ship. There was nothing left alive on it, the sailors helplessly lost to the waves. There were voices on the wind, crying out, some recognizable, others not. Jack strained to stand upon the deck of his precious ship, ruined by the rocks of an uninhabited island.
But it was not uninhabited. Jack saw through the thick mist enshrouding him a port. There were a few ships in it. People stood at its edge, seemingly ghost people, with white skin and hair that swirled around them in ways that hair should not, perfectly black eyes staring at the wreckage indifferently. Their lifeless faces observed the world around them, the mist, the clouds, the waves, as if all were everyday occurrences to them. Rage filled Jack, and he shouted out to them, his anger at losing his most prized ship overflowing suddenly. None turned to look at him; they were still as statues.
But someone did move. He stepped forward, standing alone at the very edge of one dock. Will stretched his arm out to Jack, calling to the pirate above the water. Jack saw tears on his tanned face. He graced a hand on that cheek. It was warm and flushed, beaten by the winds around him. But those same winds scooped Jack up and whisked him into the clouds, far away from his beloved. Will fell to the deck, sobbing.
And somewhere, far from where Jack slumbered in his drunken sleep, another man woke crying as he saw Jack whirl away in an eddy in the wind from him.
***
Will Turner slowly regained his composure, wiping the wet lines of salty tears from his eyes. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and onto the hard floors beneath him, making his way to a washing basin in his small room. He splashed his face a few times with the water while choking back more sobs.
Dreams of Jack had haunted him almost nightly for the past five years, but it never softened the pain of them. They always brought with them a deep aching in Will's heart, where the hollow that once Jack's constant love filled. There was nothing left there, nothing for Will to have.
He made his way back to the bed, straightening the covers so that he could crawl under them once more and sleep out another night alone. But sleep did not come. He tossed and turned on the mattress, but the night's noises kept him awake. Across from him, he heard shouted and squeals, drunken laughter and a woman's high trilling, all coming from one of the many brothels lining this road. Will buried his head in the pillow, but the sound did not go away.
Finally, he gave in. Will rose and stormed across the room, throwing open the door to the hall. It was dimly lit by evenly spaced torches along one side. The other side of the wall was railing of waist height, looking down upon a large hall below. This late at night, there were a few people sitting by the giant fireplace on one side of the inn's wall. Will wandered away and out the door, heading aimlessly down the street. Somewhere in the direction he walked, he guessed, was the docks, and the shore.
A good look at the ocean might do him some good.
It would have at least squelched the ideas in Will's head that somehow, someway, he could meet up with Jack again, across this far distant ocean to the cluster of islands so affectionately called the Caribbean.
Will did see the ocean, dark and endless without a moon to light it, and his heart fell. He leaned back on a wall and closed his eyes to rest his spinning head. Why did the night always make it look so big? It was only a week's good sailing away. That was not far, he knew. He could sail that easily.
"Ummm, excuse me, sir? Are you going to come in or just lean beside the door? This is an inn, you know," a voice said beside Will. He looked down to see a woman staring up at him with dark brown eyes. She pointed to the sign above Will's head. "You look lost, and this inn takes in many wayfarers, no matter who they be. Come on in and we'll get you settled. No one should be alone this late." Will followed her through the door and into a spacious room beyond. The common of the inn was well lit, men crowded around the fire with drinks in hand as they conversed with each other.
"Now, I think that I have a room that should work for you. I'll need to have your name..." She waited, a strand of her light hair falling in front of her pale face.
"Willam Turner," Will finally said. His throat felt dry. The innkeeper smiled at the name. She wrote it beside a room number and scribbled another note next to that.
"The room's up the stairs and at the end of the hall. I suspect...you don't know when you are leaving this place. You can pay off your rent slowly, whenever you can, in fact." The innkeeper gestured around her. "I do hope you get settled and come down and socialize some. Most of the residents here are very friendly, and, if you don't mind me saying, you look lonely. Oh, and by the way," she added as Will made to leave, "my name is Setia. I own this inn, and if there is anything that you need, please tell me." She smiled warmly at him, and Will returned it with a little less enthusiasm. He made his way up the stairs at the far end of the room.
As he ascended the steps, a shifting of the shadows caught his eye. Will looked down, and off to a corner he saw a man, brooding alone, his arms folded across his chest, his head bowed. A cascade of black hair fell down to his shoulders, blending almost perfectly with the grey around him. He wore a black cloak that hid the rest of him. Still, even though he looked intently at the ground, Will had the strange sensation that he watched him. Will hurried his pace up the stairs, leaving the mysterious figure behind.
The room was just where the sweet innkeeper told him it would be. He found the door propped open, and he entered, expecting to find a simple room, but what met him was an amazing sight.
The first thing that caught his eye was the great bay window, overlooking the port and all its spectacles. The Atlantic glittered in the light of the full moon, also casting shadows across the wooden floors of the room. To one side a lamp burned, casting dancing lights across the furniture. There was no bed in this room, but there were two great chairs with large cushions. Both of the chairs were black, but there appeared to be a rose motif upon them. There was also a small couch. The walls around him were painted a simple cream color. There was a large rug on the floor. Will took a step into the room, seeing another door leading off into what he guessed was the bedroom. He closed the door behind him and looked around. There were tables scattered here and there, made of a beautiful wood Will had never seen before. He ran his hand along the perfect surface, relishing the feeling.
The sound of crying suddenly graced his ears. His head shot up, and he froze, intent on the sound. There it was again, the faint cries of a little girl. Will thought that maybe sweet Setia had made a mistake. Someone else was in the room.
"Is anyone here?" he called out gently, fearful to frighten the child more. He took a step towards the closed door. "Hello?"
The door creaked open, and a little hand snaked around it. Will took a few steps closer as the girl emerged from behind the door. She sniffed and backed away from Will, her puffy eyes growing even wider.
"Don't say anything," she whispered through a sob. Her little face was so torn, and he wanted to help her, but fear for her held him in place. She wiped some tears from her face with the sleeve of her dress. Will just waited for her to say more.
"Please," Will began, but she crumpled to the floor, hiding from him, her sobbing escalating.
"I don't want to leave," she cried out, the tears falling down her cheeks now with renewed strength. "I never want to leave here! You can't take me away!" Will approached her and put a hand on her little shoulder, but she screamed and clawed at it. He slowly took it away but did not rise.
"I mean you no harm," he said kindly. "Is this your room?" The girl looked up at him quite confused.
"My room?" she almost laughed as an adult would. "No one has ever asked me that." Her face hardened, and she stared deep into Will's eyes. With a sniff, she stood, looking down at the kneeling Will. "Who are you?" Will looked up at her swollen deep blue eyes.
"My name is Will," he told her. She thought for a moment.
"No, it isn't," she stated, bending down a little to come even with him. "People just call you Will. The innkeeper doesn't. She knows you as Willam." Will almost fell back.
"How?" he sputtered, taken aback. The girl smiled, and held out her little hand.
"Don't worry, Willam, I can feel it," she comforted him. "I just don't want to leave this room!" The odd escapade ended, and she wiped some more tears harshly from her eyes. Will suddenly reached out and pulled away her hand.
"Don't do that," he chided. "That will just make your eyes even redder." She bowed her head and hid behind her wavy red hair. Will parted the hair, and she lifted her head.
"Really, it's alright though. What is your name? I am not as gifted as you." She grinned warmly. Turning away, she clasped her hands behind her back.
"My name is Ella!" she said cheerfully, bouncing a little. Will rose now. "If you would like to know, I am six." The question had only begun to form itself in Will's mind. She grinned again and jumped to the window.
"Willam, or Will because that's easier to say, come look at the water and we can talk." She bounced to the window and touched the glass with her hand. Will followed.
"It is so pretty," she sighed. "I love Miana, and this window overlooks the best place of the city, the port! I never want to leave this room."
"Why are you here?" Will wondered. This, at least, stumped Ella.
"Well," she started hesitantly, "it was raining, and I needed a place to stay. The innkeeper took me in, but I started to explore, and she thought I disappeared when I really just hid up here. I love this room!" Her little pale face lit up, and she giggled. "It is so big and spacious."
"Yes, I can agree with that," Will said lightly, her glee lifting his dark heart just a little. This little child intrigued him, made him wonder. She hid alone in this room? That was strange, for sure. Will shook his head to clear it of those thoughts.
The child smiled a wide grin at him again, and Will couldn't help but return it. Even the brooding longing for Jack briefly departed from him, if only for a fleeting time.
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YAY! I can finally bring Will back into this! Hehehee....I have fun plans for next chappie....just wait. Everything will come clearer...^-^ If I feel like it! ~.^
Now just drop me a little review and make me all the happier!
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