Here's Luck to You: 2 Don't Do Anything Stupid
By Honorat
Rating: K+
Disclaimer: Aye, Disney doesn't allow anyone else to make a profit, but we're not tryin' to make a profit, are we?
Summary: Bill and Jack during the Mutiny on the Black Pearl. Angst alert. Second in a series of significant events in the lives of Bootstrap Bill and Jack Sparrow with a cameo by Will. This was supposed to be a drabble for the "lucky charm" challenge at Black Pearl Sails. There will be six installments to this drabble sequence. None of them is a drabble.
Thanks to the peerless beta editing of geekmama2, this is much better than it was
Don't Do Anything Stupid
When he'd first found himself locked in the stores, he'd thought it was an accident, and he'd pounded on the hatch, yelling. Then he'd decided it was a prank and somebody was going to die, excruciatingly, the minute he discovered the culprit. His shouts grew more and more obscene. When no one came and it seemed like hours of darkness pressed in on him, Bill began to worry.
Something was very wrong.
He began to cast about for some means of escape. At first he tried to be careful. Jack was tolerant about anything but damage to his ship. However, as the minutes dashed by and he seemed no nearer to prying open that hatch than before, Bill threw caution overboard and gouged great splinters out of the wood. If Jack was in on this, he deserved to have his bloody boat smashed. But if he was not . . . Bill doubled the fury of his attack. If Jack didn't know, he was in terrible danger.
Finally, the hatch gave way with a crack Bill was sure could be heard on the fighting top. Rather than wait to see what it stirred up, he scrambled out through the shattered wood and melted into the shadows.
Until he knew what was in the wind, he didn't want to see anyone or, more particularly, to be seen by them.
His circuitous route to avoid any other crewmembers produced only the overheard information that something had gone wrong between the captain and the first mate. Bill felt a chill even in the sweltering heat belowdecks. Barbossa was as crooked as Jack, without the saving grace of a good heart that made Jack such a surprising pirate. Usually, Jack knew just how to manipulate his obstreperous mate, but if Barbossa had come to blows with the captain . . . Bill needed to find Jack.
He was creeping through the brig when he noticed one of the cells was no longer empty. Its occupant was not moving, so Bill was edging cautiously on by when something about that still silhouette whispered familiarity. He moved to where he could get a better view and his throat closed in horror. The man in the brig was Captain Jack Sparrow. All Bill's fears hailed down on him like grapeshot. This was not a quarterdeck squabble. This was mutiny! He rushed to the bars and knelt, gripping them until his knuckle gleamed white.
Jack lay, frighteningly still, one eye swollen closed and cut, his moustache and beard bloody from a punch to his mouth. He was curled around his arms, knuckles raw from fighting, knees pulled up as though he'd been kicked in the stomach or worse. A dangerous gash on one thigh was contributing to a terrible pool of blood on the cell floor. They'd practically murdered him!
Rage and guilt cannonaded in Bill's head. He should have known. Somehow, he should have known. He should have stopped this.
"Jack," Bill called softly, hoping no one could hear. "Jack you rotten scoundrel, you bloody bastard. Don't you dare be dead."
He started back in shock when Jack came instantly to life and lunged for the grating.
"Bill!"
He felt Jack's shaking hands grip the sides of his face.
"I thought you were dead," Jack whispered. "I thought, if you hadn't gone along with this, they'd have killed you."
"If you thought for one instant, Jack Sparrow, that I'd be party to this . . . to this . . ." Bill seethed, holding Jack's wrists and feeling the racing pulses in them with relief. "I really will kill you."
Jack laughed and then doubled over in agony, hands clasped again to his stomach. "I don't know what to think anymore, Bill," he gasped.
"What in the bloody blazes happened, Jack?" Bill demanded, feeling ill himself.
"Those miscreants tried to take my ship," Jack spoke through gritted teeth. "I objected. We had words on the subject."
"Words? You look like someone nearly murdered you."
"Several someones. I think I may have murdered some of them. I don't quite remember that part. Takes a lot more than a mutiny to do away with Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy?" Jack said, trying for an airy tone.
The words were bold, but Bill saw that Jack was shivering, and at the mention of mutiny, he'd looked like he was going to be sick.
"Are you all right?" At Jack's incredulous look, he emended, "I mean are you going to be all right? What did they do to you?"
"Nothing time and a good bottle of rum won't cure. Do you happen to have a bottle of rum?" Jack asked hopefully.
Bill shook his head, exasperated. Jack Sparrow was impossible. "That's going to leave a scar." his hand hovered over the ruin of Jack's eye.
"Not as big a scar as I left on that bastard Barbossa's face," Jack smirked, rejuvenating into his usual annoying self more rapidly than Bill would have thought possible. "Meant to take off his head. Must be getting rusty. Pity about the rum."
"What are they planning to do to you Jack?"
"The usual. Maroon me on some god-forsaken spit of land with a pistol and a single shot. Could be worse I suppose." Jack shrugged insouciantly, but Bill had never seen a bleaker look on his captain's face.
What Jack was really saying was that those scum were going to leave him to die and steal his ship. Bill couldn't even imagine Jack without the Black Pearl.
"I've got to get you out of here." Bill looked around frantically for some means of gaolbreaking. "And then we are going to murder Barbossa."
"Wait just a damn minute." Jack gripped his wrist with cold fingers. "Don't be going off half-cocked, you crackbrained fire-eater. This is no time for ham-fisted heroics. You're like to get us both killed. Besides," he admitted. "I've already tried that. Didn't work."
"Just what do you propose we do then?" Bill growled. He was feeling strongly like shedding the blood of some mutinous pirates.
"Nothing."
"Nothing! What do you mean nothing? Did they crack you over the head too hard?" Bill was seriously worried. Jack Sparrow had never been the type to give up.
"Yes, but that's beside the point." Jack waved dismissively. "You can't go and get yourself killed on account of me, you maggot-brain. Use that head of yours for something besides a hat rack."
Bill opened his mouth to protest, but Jack forged on. "Aren't you forgetting a little something here? You're a father and a husband. You've got no business being stupid on my behalf."
Bill shut his mouth with a snap. Jack was right.
"Barbossa and his minions will let me off at whatever little island they've got in mind," Jack continued, managing to make the most appalling alternative sound reasonable. "I'll have myself a little tropical vacation, while you go pirate some treasure. Then you can scurry back and pick me up, and then," Jack bared his teeth in a shark's smile, "and then we murder Barbossa and every last one of these traitorous bastards, savvy?" He held out his hand. "Agreed?"
There was a long pause while conflicting impulses fought a best two out of three falls. Bill didn't want to stand by and watch Jack Sparrow be marooned. Nor did he want to deprive his wife and child of his support. Chances were, the ship would go down on the trip to Isla de Muerta anyway. But if they didn't, his share of the gold of Cortez would surely garner him the resources to provide for his family and rescue Jack who would be safe on an island. And Jack was right. The two of them couldn't defeat the entire crew of the Black Pearl. Especially since it looked to be all his captain could manage just to sit up and speak with him. It felt strange to be thinking about Jack as the prudent one.
Finally, he answered, although the words wrenched his heart, "Agreed." He shook Jack's hand, careful not to grip too hard.
"Good man." Jack brightened. The effect was very odd on his ravaged face. "Now one other thing. I don't want you on deck when they dump me off."
"Jack."
"No arguments this time. I know it's difficult for you, but please, try not to do anything stupid." There was a hint of pleading in Jack's voice for a moment. "You'll be more likely to keep that temper of yours if you can't see what they're doing. I want you belowdecks. That's an order, Bill."
That last had been Jack's command voice—cold and stern and brooking no dissent.
Bill froze up slightly. "Aye, Captain," he said stiffly, resentment in every lineament of his frame.
But Jack wasn't letting him pull back. He gripped Bill's shoulder with one battered hand and leaned his forehead against the bars of his cell. "I've made a right mangle of this, Bill. I'm sorry."
The resentment leaked out of Bill. The fact that Jack Sparrow was apologizing scared him more than anything else that had happened so far. This could go very badly.
Impulsively, he dragged his amulet on its chain over his head. He shoved it through the bars. "Take this, Jack."
"That's your good luck charm!" Jack objected, trying to refuse.
"I know. Take it," Bill insisted, pressing the bit of ivory into Jack's resisting palm. "You'll be needing all the luck I can wish you where you'll be going.
TBC