Cadenza

"Do you yield?"

Elizabeth glared over the point of his sword. "No." She pushed the blade aside and grabbed the front of Will's shirt, surprising him into a grunt that was lost against her mouth. He was vaguely aware of letting go of his sword, but now there was cold steel against his neck and a cheer exploded from the crew.

Will blinked at Elizabeth's triumphant face. "Cheat!" Her grin widened. "Don't say it! I don't think I want to know what else you might have picked up from Jack. Fleas, probably."

"I don't appreciate that, Mr Turner. Insubordination, I'd call it. Could have you flogged, you know."

Will turned (as much as the dagger at his throat would allow) in time to see Jack make his way across the deck. He was limping and leant just a little too heavily against the railing, but if Anamaria couldn't make him stay in bed, no one could.

"Good to see you up, Captain."

He was rewarded with a glittering grin. "That's more like it. Elizabeth, darling, put the dagger down. I need to have a word with our Mr Turner."

Elizabeth favoured Will with a quick kiss. "I'll be with Anamaria."

The crew dispersed with her, all save for Gibbs, who stayed as Jack muttered something in his ear. Will neared and Jack nodded, shooing Gibbs away with little fluttering motions.

"What was all that about?"

"Gibbs?" He pulled out a bottle of rum from the seemingly bottomless pocket of his coat, uncorked it and took a swig. At Will's eye-roll he clutched it to his chest. "It helps with me recovery."

"But of course."

Jack laughed, slung an arm around his shoulders and spun them both around. Clouds scudded high above them, the sky a clear, thoughtless blue. Waves broke against the Pearl's hull, prickling his face with salt. He licked at his lower lip and smiled.

"The Pearl's happy."

"Aye." Jack sent him a sidelong smile. "Aye, that she is." A cloud crossed the sun and something in his expression shifted; he sent an inscrutable look over at Will. "I remember something of what you said. When you first came."

Will's muscles tensed; he forced himself to relax. He had wanted to talk to Jack for so long, but the other man had been sleeping almost constantly for the last week. "About Howells?" Jack said nothing. "You were ill."

Jack turned on him, looking so outrageously offended that Will almost laughed. "You think I'm daft!"

"Not daft, delirious."

"Delirious, he says. I knew perfectly well what I was saying."

Will winced. "Jack… My father's dead."

"Ten years! Bootstraps are leather, chances are--"

"I know that! Don't you think I haven't thought about it a hundred times over by now? But he wasn't…" The familiar wash of Howells' voice, libertas ('freedom', Elizabeth had informed him), the Fia-Nuala, the lingering, pride-laced glances. "He couldn't have been."

Jack made a noncommittal noise and dipped his fingers into his pocket. "I found this tacked to the Pearl's hull. It's William's writing."

The note was stained and worn soft, the creases almost making the staccato writing illegible.

See you at our island. W.

"It could be a trap. It could be Norrington."

Jack snorted and snatched the note back, not even glancing at it as he stowed it away in his pocket. "Unlikely."

"You… You wrote it!"

"You know that I didn't."

Will knew. He also knew that the shock wasn't as huge a one as it he supposed it should be. He had half-convinced himself without Jack's help that Howells was indeed his father. He had never known him. Jack, on the other hand, had by all accounts been friends with him for years. But his face was blank, eyes reflecting the tumbling seas.

Will sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "You had an island?"

Jack's grin was slow but genuine. "What's a pirate without an island to stash his treasure on? Barbossa most likely took what was hidden there, but the place is real enough."

"Ah. That's what you were telling Gibbs."

Jack's eyes swept the open bay, as if looking for a discernible landmark. "Over that way," he announced with a sweeping gesture. "A couple of days' sailing so long as these winds keep up."

Will watched Elizabeth and Anamaria converse over the helm, the dark woman attempting to snatch her hat back. Elizabeth looked happy, her hair sand-bright in the sunlight. The crew had started singing; even Cotton joined in with his tuneless hum. Jack was singing, too, glittering and swaying enough to do a Tortugan whore proud as he weaved across the deck towards the helm. The limp wasn't quite so obvious now and he was yelling orders as he went. "Weigh anchor! Hoist the sails, you lazy dogs!"

The crew scattered, some scaling up the rigging, others pulling on ropes. Will was at the helm now, with Elizabeth at his side; she had apparently managed to keep hold of Anamaria's hat and it scratched his neck as she hung from his shoulder, grinning madly. Jack was grinning, too, as he turned the helm, making the boom swing across the deck. The Black Pearl's sails filled and she lurched forward.

Tortuga was soon a dot on the horizon, gone, and then there was nothing but the crashing sea, Jack's irresistibly infectious grin and Elizabeth's body pressed against his, warming him until that ever-present ache faded as though it had never been there, swallowed by the sea.