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 9/?
Title: What's in a Name?
Writer: Azure K Mello
Distribution: ask.
Rating: R for now.
Warning: angst
NOTE: Some people asked why, in the last chapter, did William the elder call Jack "John". In the days when PotC is set Jack wasn't a real name. No one was really called Jack, it was a nickname for John or Jonathan. So there it is. In this chapter Will considers that fact.
John. How odd. In some distant part of Will's mind it made sense. Of course Jack's real name wasn't Jack. It had just never occurred to him that Jack would have a name that Will didn't know. And it made him stupidly jealous of his father. He didn't like the fact that this man knew something about his lover that he didn't. And he didn't like the fact that the man was drinking in the sight of Jack. Try as he might he couldn't force a smile onto his face. The only slightly comforting thing was that Jack had not let go of him. In fact Jack was holding onto his arm as though his very life depended on it.
He watched as the man deftly rolled a cigarette. A thousand images came, unbidden, to his mind. Gibbs and he sitting late at night on deck. The pair were on night watch together. They'd smoke and laugh. Gibbs had cruelly mocked him when Will had nearly vomited from his first cigarette but Will had quickly developed a taste for tobacco. But as he watched his father he felt repulsed and promised himself he would never smoke again. Something in him deeply disliked the man. And everyone said they were so alike. But Will wanted to change one of the few things that he could to distance himself from the man.
When his father had asked to come aboard the Pearl Will had wanted to tell the man that he wasn't wanted but he didn't want to upset Jack and he didn't want to hurt the man. After all William had done nothing to him. But when he had asked for them to join him in a drink the offer had so obviously been directed only at Jack and Will had felt something in him harden. His long "lost" father had no interest in him. But then, William hadn't been lost, clearly if he could so easily track Jack down, he just hadn't wanted to be a part of Will's life. Will yearned for a cigarette.
Jack felt ill. He had never expected to see William again and had been glad of it. But here the man stood, smiling and talking as though nothing had happened. There had been a time when he had prayed that this man was safe and alive. He had forgiven William for all of his wrongs but when he had met Will in Port Royal he had finally realized just how cruel William had been not just to Jack but to his son as well. His own son; Jack's lover. It was then that Jack had started calling the man Bootstrap in his thoughts because he could no longer think of the man as being William. And now Jack felt anger boiling below his skin.
Bootstrap had been alive all along and yet had let his son grow up living as an orphan. A primal urge wanted to kill Bootstrap, not just for the hurt the man had caused him but for the pain he had inflicted upon Jack's lover. Then Bootstrap had called him John and in his mind Jack envisioned what Will would look like if he were to be bathed in his father's blood. Jack quickly blocked out the image as he felt his trousers tighten.
The question didn't shock Jack when it was asked. But it still burned. And when Bootstrap asked if he could travel with them Jack's mind had shouted that there was never a place on the Pearl for traitors. But then he'd seen the look on Will's face. The boy looked so confused. Jack couldn't bring himself to hurt his boy. He knew that Will had always longed to know his father and he couldn't deny his boy of that so his mouth spoke before his brain telling Bootstrap that they would go back to the boat and make arrangements and that Bootstrap should come to the docks at sunset. Bootstrap had offered drinks to toast their reunion. But it was clear to Jack that the man was inviting only him and not Will. And Jack had no desire to toast seeing the man again so he had begged off making a feeble excuse about the crew needing orders. He had nearly dragged Will out of the tavern.
Walking briskly through the streets Jack held Will's hand. It was odd because Jack, at times, nearly throw him down and shag him in front of the crew but there were never gently signs between them. Not in public. Jack was always so worried about people exploiting his weaknesses that he never coddled Will in public, all that was kept firmly behind shut doors. But now the pirate wasn't thinking rationally; he just wanted the reassurance that Will's touch offered him. He shouted terse orders at the crew about the arrival of a new crew member and pulled Will into their room.
Taking his arm away from Jack Will addressed his words to the floor when he said softly, "I think that perhaps I should move my things into the crew's rooms. Give you some space of your own."
Funny, Jack had been thinking that the only light in the day existed in the fact that nothing else could go wrong.