Disclaimer: YES! Johnny is alllllll mine!...but in case anyone who wants to sue for him comes around, I don't own any part of him. Zip, nada, zilch!

These next chappies might be somewhat 'short', but I'll be updating more frequently, so no worries!

Ch. 9 Fire of Life

Jack finally regained some composure and looked around. There was one door left. He crept over to it, sword drawn. He turned the knob. DAMN! It was locked. So, he took some incentive and began disassembling the hinges. Quietly, of course. Then, as he pulled the last one loose, he crashed through the door. He screamed.

"MOUTH! OFF! NOW!...ASSHEAD!" He bellowed, having just seen Will's terrified face streaked with tears and the Commodore's mouth violating him.

"...Jack! Gun!" Will screamed, pointing at the table, after he got over the shock of Jack's entrance.

"Why the bloody 'ell are we speaking in fragmented sentences?" Jack asked quickly, as he ran over to the table and grabbed the weapon. Norrington's face showed his utter disbelief at the situation, but he finally shook his head like a dog, and then jumped up, trying to go after Jack. The Captain quickly elbowed his stomach and pressed him against the wall, the gun held up to his head.

Jack's voice was a mix of anger and more anger, in fact, he was so angry that he was crying. "If ye EVER touch him again, EVER..." Jack's lips were quivering as tears escaped his fiery eyes. "Ye know what? No second chances. I don't care. Ye violate me lad, I take something belonging to ye!"

At that moment, Jack brought the metal blade down upon the Commodore's appendage, slicing it off from the rest of his body. Norrington looked down, then back at Jack, and then down again, his face horrorstruck. Jack let go of him. He slid down he wall onto the floor, lying in a heap.

"...Want a souvenir?" Jack announced to Will, aiming for a joke.

He looked over and saw him sitting on the floor, his back against the wall he had been pinned to. He had his knees up to his face and was sobbing into his legs. Jack dropped the gun onto the floor and swaggered over to him. He gently picked the lad up and carried him to the bed, where he laid him down and dressed him. Then, just as gently, Jack scooped him up again and carried him to an empty cabin he had discovered earlier (but had neglected to mention). He slowly laid him down on the bed and sat down on the edge of it. Then, he carressed Will's cheek softly with his fingers. Ever so slowly, his sobs subsided. He opened his eyes.

There Jack was; hovering over him. His eyes were full of a sweet energy- they danced of their own accord, not because of any light. Will suddenly grabbed him, clinging on to his neck and dragging him onto the bed as he began to wail. Jack understood, and he held him tightly, gently rocking him back and forth, rubbing his back. All he could to was wait until the lad calmed down.

After what seemed like forever, he did. Jack looked down. He was asleep. Carefully, he lowered him out of his arms and flat onto the bed. Then, Jack got up and got a pitcher of warm water and a rag. He began to wash off the filthy germs from that scumbag. When he had, he redressed him (so that he wouldn't wake up and think that he was still with Norrington), and slid him under the covers. Then, Jack took the chair from the little desk and sat next to the bed, allowing Will to sleep comfortably.

He looked over at the tear-stained face. Even though he had washed it, the streaks were still visible. Jack's stomach twisted; he felt responsible, as though this was all his fault. If only he had slept curled up with Will- then he would have felt him being taken. But, Jack quickly shook these thoughts from his mind; no one was to blame other than Norrington. What he needed to do was be there for Will...and get revenge on that bloody git. Asshole.

Will turned, breaking Jack out of his reverie. He waited for a minute to see if he would wake up, and when he didn't, he glanced at the lad's face. He was young- too young for this to happen to. Why couldn't he have taken me? Jack fumed. WHY NOT ME!

Jack stopped himself from crying by telling himself that Will needed him now, so dwelling on the past was not an option. Will would want me to focus on the future, Jack told himself. So that's what he did. He focused on how happy he would be when Will began recovering. How good it would feel to see the man smile. To hear his laugh; Jack loved his laugh- it was like food for his soul. And, of course, on how much fun it would be to eat the crazy concoction of bananas and bratwurst for breakfast again. The thought of that made Jack flourish a smirk.

Jack remembered the raids, the pillages and plundering, and the pilfering. One of the things he did best was sack a port using only his sword. He remembered all of these times spent with Will; what happy times they were. And what he hoped for, more than anything, was to...

Laissez les bons temps rouler...he thought, looking over at his sleeping love while a fire lit up inside his eyes. This one was different...it was a roaring fire that would never quite die.

btw, that last thought means "let the good times roll".

Reviews make the world go 'round!...that means: "send me one, please, i want feedback!"...and btw, the story will get back to it's funny, ridiculous self shortly. keep checking for updates!