Title: The Past Never Lets Go.
Summary: The past never truly dies, it's always there. The sequel to "The Rewrite" but if you haven't read it you don't really need too.
Chapter 5/?: Days Gone By
Writer: Azure K Mello
Distribution: ask.
For previous parts: or at ff.net:
Rating: R for now. I've never written NC17 before but I might go for it later.
Warning:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They lay together on the rock as the sun fell. "What did you want to bring me here for? Didn't you say you found something? Or was it just the view?" Will asked as they watched the sun set. It was amazing to find a place like this, a rock in the ocean.
"I brought you here to see this rock." Jack sounded sleepy as he rested his head on Will's shoulder.
Will studied the man. Jack was certifiably insane but as a general rule most of it was affected to be more interesting. And usually Jack spoke with directness when with his boy. "This rock?"
"Its technical name is a sea stack. The stone is hard enough to not have eroded over time. We're two and a half miles from shore. Di' you really think it was just an outcrop?"
"I didn't think about it."
"Well . . . it's on two maps and you can guess who drew them both." Jack looked at the water and did not meet William's gaze.
It was very, very rare for Jack to even consider talking about his past. And before this Jack had *never* brought it up himself. Will knew better than to try to get Jack to speak at any length about it and so instead said softly, "Thank you." Jack needed no explanation as to what the boy was thanking him for. He nodded and kept his eyes trained on the glistening sea. "It's beautiful out here."
"Em-hum," agreed Jack, "You could be in the forge right now about to go home for the night to your bride."
"And I would be miserable," the boy assured him. "I am the pirate you always saw me to be. I am my father's son."
"He'd be right proud of you, Will." Jack slowly trailed his fingers over the expanse to tan skin. No one else could touch his William; this boy belonged to him and him alone. He was a pirate through and through, therefore as he had "liberated" Will from his former life the new life was his to play with. He felt the body he was stroking tense at his words. "What is it, lad?"
"Do you think he's alive?" asked Will in an almost reverent voice.
"Who?" asked Jack having forgotten what he had said before trying to map out Will's whole being in his mind.
"My father. He was cursed when he sank into the sea. And just for a moment consider it. He manages to unbuckle the cannon. It takes him six months to walk to shore (that's far too long but just believe it). Then where has he been for the better part of eight years?"
"Perhaps he thought you dead. Mayhaps, he's too ashamed to show his face. He's left you fatherless for so long."
"No. You've made him out to be a god. If he were half as good as you tell him to be then he would find us . . . you."
Swallowing hard Jack sent a prayer up to one of the gods he hoped hadn't forsaken him yet. William Turner would fall short of his son's expectations. And he prayed that his old love never surfaced. He didn't want Will to know he had lied; he didn't want to lose the boy.
Summary: The past never truly dies, it's always there. The sequel to "The Rewrite" but if you haven't read it you don't really need too.
Chapter 5/?: Days Gone By
Writer: Azure K Mello
Distribution: ask.
For previous parts: or at ff.net:
Rating: R for now. I've never written NC17 before but I might go for it later.
Warning:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They lay together on the rock as the sun fell. "What did you want to bring me here for? Didn't you say you found something? Or was it just the view?" Will asked as they watched the sun set. It was amazing to find a place like this, a rock in the ocean.
"I brought you here to see this rock." Jack sounded sleepy as he rested his head on Will's shoulder.
Will studied the man. Jack was certifiably insane but as a general rule most of it was affected to be more interesting. And usually Jack spoke with directness when with his boy. "This rock?"
"Its technical name is a sea stack. The stone is hard enough to not have eroded over time. We're two and a half miles from shore. Di' you really think it was just an outcrop?"
"I didn't think about it."
"Well . . . it's on two maps and you can guess who drew them both." Jack looked at the water and did not meet William's gaze.
It was very, very rare for Jack to even consider talking about his past. And before this Jack had *never* brought it up himself. Will knew better than to try to get Jack to speak at any length about it and so instead said softly, "Thank you." Jack needed no explanation as to what the boy was thanking him for. He nodded and kept his eyes trained on the glistening sea. "It's beautiful out here."
"Em-hum," agreed Jack, "You could be in the forge right now about to go home for the night to your bride."
"And I would be miserable," the boy assured him. "I am the pirate you always saw me to be. I am my father's son."
"He'd be right proud of you, Will." Jack slowly trailed his fingers over the expanse to tan skin. No one else could touch his William; this boy belonged to him and him alone. He was a pirate through and through, therefore as he had "liberated" Will from his former life the new life was his to play with. He felt the body he was stroking tense at his words. "What is it, lad?"
"Do you think he's alive?" asked Will in an almost reverent voice.
"Who?" asked Jack having forgotten what he had said before trying to map out Will's whole being in his mind.
"My father. He was cursed when he sank into the sea. And just for a moment consider it. He manages to unbuckle the cannon. It takes him six months to walk to shore (that's far too long but just believe it). Then where has he been for the better part of eight years?"
"Perhaps he thought you dead. Mayhaps, he's too ashamed to show his face. He's left you fatherless for so long."
"No. You've made him out to be a god. If he were half as good as you tell him to be then he would find us . . . you."
Swallowing hard Jack sent a prayer up to one of the gods he hoped hadn't forsaken him yet. William Turner would fall short of his son's expectations. And he prayed that his old love never surfaced. He didn't want Will to know he had lied; he didn't want to lose the boy.