Woo-hoo. Hello all!

Wow, computer games are strangely addictive, especially if it means hacking people into pieces.

Okay, I'm going to slowly come out and toss Roxy to the crowd. You can have her, just don't hurt me. If you do hurt me, you won't find out what happens to Will. Aha! I have blackmail!

Anyway, just a warning but I'm going to be out of town all next week, so I won't be able to update. I will as soon as I possibly can, just don't worry.

Plus, depending on what Hurricane Dennis does, we may be without power for a while. Hopefully it won't be as bad as Ivan. My cousin lives in Pensacola, just an hour from where I live, and she was without power for over three weeks. Ugh. So basically, it may be a while. But I will update when I can; I shall not abandon my loyal reviewers!

Smithy – Lucky! Lucky, lucky, lucky! I had to work 3-9. It was SOOO boring. Oh, and don't worry. Jack and Elizabeth will NOT be together. ICKY! Besides, Jack is mine, not hers. (Don't I wish?) And now I feel really bad. Bad llama. (Okay, I've been watching The Emperor's New Groove. So sue me)

Trinilee Greenleaf – ACK! I made you care about an OC? Wow! Are you sure you're okay? And I'm glad you didn't like Roxy. I'm glad you like the depth of everything. And yes, We shall be passing Jack around so people can give him hugs.

Piglet12345 – Glad you like my story. NO! Jack is not gay, nor is he with Will! He's with me! Mine! Hands off, Will Turner! #slaps Will on the hand# Down boy!

Daphnebandweenie – Less then a month now. Scary. I would say get that twitch looked at, but it'll be back after band camp, so just wait. Darn Ben and Clay kidnapping you. …Maybe I should sick Roxy on them. And yes, I do want my binder back. Just bring it to band camp.

Staci – Yeah, Roxy has problems. Here's you're next chapter. Hope you like it!

Sanquinedarkness666 – No, not the spork! Use it on Roxy, not on me. Oh, I didn't think about how it could apply to you. It was just in a Power Rangers story. Kat got pissed because she found out Jason was cheating on her with Tommy. Oops!

Marie Crosby – Here's the next chapter. Have fun with it!

Williz – Don't worry, there will be no Jack/Elizabeth action. ICKY! Here's the Will torture! Yay!

Well, I've got to go. Got to finish getting ready for Hurricane Dennis. See you guys later.

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BlackSword

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Chapter7

The blood running down his body had already formed a small pool underneath him and the beating was nowhere near over with yet.

Will was shuddering helplessly, bound tightly to the mast of the Assassin; his chest pressed painfully into the wood. His arms were wrapped around the large pole, the rope holding them there having momentarily taken place of the shackles.

Another crack sounded and another lance of agony flashed through him. Part of him wondered dully why Blacksword had a whip. 'What sort of idiot would sell a weapon to this insane bastard?' he wondered.

The whip cracked again and he ground his teeth to keep from screaming. Thus far, he hadn't screamed, but he knew he couldn't be able to contain it much longer. He pressed his forehead against the mast miserably.

"Having fun, yet?" Blacksword taunted from somewhere behind him. The pirate seemed to find no small amount of pleasure in tormenting his prisoners, Will in particular.

"Rot in hell," Will sneered automatically. As soon as he spoke those words, he grimaced slightly. Once again, he was glad the mast was there; Blacksword couldn't see the fear flash through him. Blacksword would make him regret saying that.

This time, when the whip snaked out, it wrapped partway around his side, the thronged tip snapping into his side.

Will couldn't control the soft whimper that escaped from him. Bleeding, ragged welts covered his back and sides, burning mercilessly. Worse then the recent wounds were the ones he had gained during his quick, one-sided fight against Blacksword; not one of them had even begun to heal and they were all serious enough to be dangerous.

Slowly, he realized that the beating had stopped, for a moment, at least. Apprehension filled him; there was no way it could be over.

"You'll learn to hold your tongue," Blacksword whispered suddenly. Will jumped and struggled to see the pirate who was now standing inches from him.

The older man drew back and punched him. Will's head snapped forward into the mast, stunning him. Had he not been bound so tight, he would have slumped to the deck. "Hurts, doesn't it?" Blacksword sneered.

As he slowly regained his senses, Will once again pressed his head against the mast; this time to hide the helpless, frustrated tears that were starting to fill his eyes. If only he could get another chance to face off against the heartless pirate, he was certain he could defeat the other man, even if he was injured.

Blacksword grinned, though Will couldn't see him, and said, "So, how much do you know of my "gift"?" When there was no answer, he continued, "I will give you a small demonstration of my power."

He placed his hand on the blacksmith's right shoulder. Will tensed and fear skittered up and down his spine. His heart began to race and the injury right next to it threatened to cause it to fail. Yet he couldn't control the beating any more than he could stop Blacksword from doing whatever he had planned.

Intense heat flashed through Will's shoulder so suddenly he could not control the strangled yelp that escaped him. Blacksword's hand tightened painfully on the other's shoulder, much as he had done to Jackie's wrist, but this time he used much more force.

Will screamed uncontrollably as a sharp snap indicated the breaking of his shoulder- actually it was his collarbone but it was exactly where that bone met his shoulder bone.

Blacksword didn't relax his grip, on the contrary, his hand tightened further, forcing the bone to shift even more out of place.

Tears started falling down the young man's cheeks, leaving streaks in the blood that covered part of it. The blood was from the deep cut that now spread across his cheek, under his left eye. With everything else that was happening to him, he had failed to notice it. Nor had he noticed the matching cut over his right eye, as a result of his head being smashed into the mast.

Blacksword, while he hadn't noticed the tears running down Will's face, he certainly hadn't missed the emotional anguish assaulting him. He couldn't help but laugh.

Abruptly, he let go of his shoulder and the bone shifted back as far into place as it could. Blacksword slowly walked around the mast so he could see some of the other's face.

Will hated it; he couldn't control his tears and his pride balked at the fact that anyone was seeing him like this. Not only that, but the knowledge that this maniac was the person that had held his son prisoner for almost a week burned him up. 'And he's going to do the same thing he's doing to me to Jack when he catches him,' he thought miserably.

"You're right," Blacksword said, clearly reading what was flashing through Will's mind. "I'm going to put Sparrow through hell, just like I am, and will continue to do to you."

Will's eyes opened and slowly met Blacksword's. For some reason, it was strangely unsettling for the pirate to see that tears rolling down from the large, dark brown eyes. "What do you want with Jack?" Will asked, voice soft. "What did he do to you? And why in the hell do you want me?"

The soft, mocking laugh that answered him sent a shiver through him. "Your last question is easy to answer, the others take slightly longer to explain." The grin faded, "You are the best swordsman in the Caribbean, a title I once held. I don't know how it suddenly became yours, but I fully intend to reclaim that title."

"If that's all you want, then fine. Take it. I don't care!"

"It's not that simple, my pride will not allow it. I must defeat you in a sword duel."

"You've already done that," Will pointed out.

"That did not count. I did not follow the rules of engagement."

Will couldn't believe what he was hearing. Blacksword actually took the rules of engagement into account? That wasn't something he would have guessed.

"As for Captain Sparrow, it's a long story. The two of us were-" Blacksword suddenly stopped. Will had suddenly turned several shades paler.

It was interesting to see the blacksmith turn that pale. In the Caribbean, most people had some form of tan; it was inevitable. The blacksmith was no exception, and though his was nowhere near as dark as someone who had lived in the Caribbean their whole life, it was still there.

The pirate stood there for a few minutes, attempting to figure out what was wrong. He hadn't done anything, at least within the last couple of minutes. Finally it dawned on him just how much blood the other had lost within the past day, especially during this beating. Obviously, Will could no longer hide how he felt.

Black Andrew smirked slightly. Will was stubborn, he'd give him that, but he would soon break him. It was already starting.

As he watched, Will's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he passed out.

Blacksword cut the ropes holding up the now unconscious man, letting his body drop back to the deck. "Ricky," he called, "come here."

As he waited for the other man, the pirate dispassionately kicked Will, not hard but just to show his contempt. He rolled the blacksmith over onto his back sing his foot, and being none too gentle about it.

He stared darkly at the pale, bloody face. He remembered the tears that had been falling down the other's face. 'Yes,' he thought to himself, pleased, 'He has already begun to break. Soon, I'll have complete control over when he dies.' A smile edged his face, 'Yes, this is working out perfectly.'

Ricky came up to him. "Yes, Captain?"

"Take him to the brig. Put him in that isolated cell. Make sure to put him in shackles and stake him to the floor. I didn't want Sparrow to be able to get him out of here yet, in case he gets here today."

Ricky nodded in compliance and dragged up the young man.

As Ricky left, Blacksword murmured, "Captain Sparrow, I have your best friend. He is mine and there is nothing you can do to prevent his death."

Chris smirked as he found Black Andrew. "Captain, I have an idea. I know the best way to get him to break completely."

Andrew turned to him, the blacksmith's blood still on his clothes. "Now you have an idea as well? You're really getting into this, aren't you?" He then nodded, "Go ahead."

Blacksword's first mate- Chris- smiled, "Well, from what we know, the young Mr. Turner is Captain Sparrow's closest friend, right? Therefore, we can assume Captain Sparrow is his closest friend."

His captain nodded. "Yes," he replied slowly, not catching were this was leading.

"Don't you see? What could possibly be more upsetting than having your best friend torturing you?"

A slight smile flickered across Blacksword's face but it didn't remain. "It's a good idea, but first of all, we don't have Captain Sparrow with us, do we? Besides, even if we did, there would be no way we could force him to do that. If what we know is true, he'd rather die than do that to his blacksmith friend."

"I thought of that, and here's my solution: Who ever said it was going to be Sparrow doing it?"

Blacksword blinked in confusion, "Huh? But… how-"

"He's a respectable man, Will Turner is. I would bet my life he's never gotten drunk. So, what we do is get him drunk, and possibly drug him up, and then beat him. Then, while we're doing that, let Grant do his thing and the blacksmith, as out of it as he would be, would believe it was Sparrow doing it."

A malicious, bloodthirsty smile spread across the pirate captain's face, accompanied by a soft laugh. "Chris, sometimes you amaze me. Quite an inventive torture method. It will have to wait until tomorrow, though. Grant will need time to practice his part."

Grant was a young pirate- probably not more than twenty-five years old, though no one knew for sure- that Blacksword had picked up four years ago. Grant had only been part of the crew for a few months when Blacksword had first run into Jack Sparrow and Grant- like Blacksword- had taken a passionate disliking to the man.

Grant, though, had a special talent, and it was this talent that had made Blacksword choose to let him come along. Grant could mimic a person's voice, perfectly, after hearing it only once.

"You know Chris, since you came up with the idea, you can be the first to torture him. After that, though, you must leave and… just happen to find Captain Sparrow and… inform him of what I have done."

Chris bowed slightly, "Thank you, Captain. It is a most gracious offer." He turned and started away.

"Chris," Black Andrew called, "make sure you keep his shoulder in mind. After all, broken bones tend to be painful."

The heartless laugh that escaped Chris echoed through the ship, long after the actual laughter had died away.

"Please, Captain Sparrow, please," the eight-year-old begged. "I want to be a pirate. Why can't you give me a pirate's brand?"

Jack sighed, wishing, not for the first time, that Will were here to explain something to the boy. "You're too young," he explained.

He was standing at the wheel, one hand resting lightly on it as he tried to explain himself to Jackie. He personally didn't have a problem with the boy getting branded but he knew Will would not have approved, had he still been alive.

Pain flared through his heart briefly at the thought of Will. It no longer occurred as often, yet when it did, the pain was just as strong.

"Well, how about in a few months? My birth day is in about four months, how about then?" Jackie pressed.

"Jackie, no! Do you understand how mad your mother would be with me if I let you get branded? So, no. Not until you get a lot older.'"

The boy fell silent and he looked down, large eyes watching the deck. Jack rolled his eyes. 'Oh, great. Now he's going to start crying.'

To his surprise, though, the eight-year-old didn't. Instead, after a few minutes he glanced back up and asked, "Captain Sparrow, what are we going to do when we get back to Port Royal? Are mom and I going to stay on the Black Pearl with you?"

The pirate wasn't sure how to answer the boy's question. He still hadn't decided what exactly would be the best thing to do about them. "I'm not sure," Jack admitted. "It will depend on what your mother thinks. She's still the one in charge."

"Are you afraid of my mom?" Jackie asked suddenly.

"No, I'm not afraid of her. I just know it's not a good idea to get on your mother's bad side."

The little boy smiled slightly. Most of the child's injuries had started to heal and he was no longer constantly hungry and tired. The most obvious signs of what had happened to him were the cut along his lips that had already begun to scar over and the burns on his wrist and neck.

Not only that, but Jack had also managed to keep the child's spirits up. At first it had been difficult; Jackie had constantly moped around or cried and Jack had been unable to do much for the boy because he had been to preoccupied by his own emotions. Now, though Jack still felt the pressing feeling of guilt that he had caused Will's death and the sadness that was so foreign a feeling for him, he was able to make the boy actually smile and had even once drawn a laugh from him.

"Are you going to tell mom about… about dad? Or am I?" There was no missing his hesitation to mention his father, both because of his own feelings about it and also because of Jack's.

"I'll tell her. You don't need to. It's my fault; I should tell her."

"Dad wouldn't blame you."

"I know he wouldn't. That's why he was such a good person."

It had been a day since Chris's idea and now the preparations had finally been completed. Grant had gotten Jack's voice down perfectly and Black Andrew was deeply pleased.

Ricky stalked into Will's cell, dark eyes filled with both loathing and excitement. Glazed, unfocused eyes met his, confusion and misery written deeply in them. In the blacksmith's eyes, there was every indication of his state.

Not more than two hours previous, Ricky and Grant had drugged him and forced him to get drunk. Will had struggled and screamed desperately, knowing whatever they were preparing him for would be absolute hell. He had not been able to stop them and now his body and mind were suffering because of it.

"Come on, time to have some fun," Ricky snickered to Will.

In some small part of his sluggish, reeling mind, Will realized something bad was going to happen but he couldn't do anything to stop it. The small part of him that still realized the danger was frustrated by his helplessness.

Ricky undid the shackles holding the prisoner to the floor of the brig.

He had to force the younger man to his feet and he was only mildly surprised when the blacksmith's knees buckled under him.

Will lay on the ground, breathing heavily, his heart pounding furiously in his chest. As he breathed, pain shot through his shoulder in time with his gasps of breath. The broken bone in it would grind against itself, the pain nearly bringing him to tears. Yellow spots danced before his eyes and his vision blurred.

Ricky groaned as he realized the other wouldn't be getting up on his own. He was tired of being the one to drag the blacksmith around. He would be glad when the young man died.

The pirate bent down and jerked Will to his feet, not bothering to be careful of his broken shoulder. The other swayed slightly, even with Ricky holding him up.

"Let's go, you don't want to miss anything do you? After Grant went through all that trouble for you, you had best appreciate what he did for you."

Will was scared and it was a feeling he hated. It was a fairly foreign emotion to him and he wasn't used to it. Part of him was relieved Jack wasn't aboard the Assassin because his pride wouldn't allow him to be seen by the pirate captain in the state he was in.

Ricky was slightly relived when the blacksmith didn't struggle against him. Will had been strangely subdued since they had drugged him. Obviously, the young man had never before been introduced to those drugs or that much alcohol.

It wasn't a fun job attempting to get Will to the other side of the ship when he couldn't even support himself. By the time they finally did get there, Ricky was fed up with the other and greatly looking forward to watching Chris and Grant wreak havoc with his mind and body.

Ricky released the prisoner and, without anyone helping him support himself, Will's knees gave out, dropping him once again to the floor. He shut his eyes as pain flashed through him. If only there was a release from the pain; yet no solution presented itself.

Blacksword had stood off to the side and watched Ricky's treatment of the prisoner. A grim smile flickered across his face. Ricky definitely had a passionate disliking of Will. Though, he supposed the dislike was justified.

The evil captain walked up to Will. "You are a lucky one. Not many of our prisoners get some of our best liquor." He said this because he knew how the blacksmith had to feel about getting drunk.

Dark brown eyes stared up at him, squinting slightly. Even as normally unaware of the other's emotions as he was, Blacksword could see the misery, pain, and fear written in the young man's eyes, along with the glazed confusion that came from being as drugged and intoxicated as he was.

Blacksword motioned for Chris and Grant to approach. The two did so, only too willingly. Grant had been looking forward to this since he had found out about it. His hatred towards Jack Sparrow would be put into convincing Will that it was indeed the captain of the Black Pearl that was beating him. All of them- captain and crew- were curious as to Will's reaction to the real Jack when he finally got there.

Chris crouched down in front of Will. Grant cleared his throat, then asked- his voice a perfect imitation of Jack's- "Will? Will?"

Will's eyes widened slightly, his drugged mind instantly supplying the mental image of Jack. "J… Jack?" he stammered weakly. "Jack, wha… what are you doing here?"

Grant couldn't help but smile. The young blacksmith needed very little to convince him of Jack's presence. This was going to be fun.

"Will, are you okay?" Grant asked smile still on his face. Chris looked over his shoulder at Grant, glaring darkly. What was Grant doing? He was supposed to be mentally tormenting the prisoner, not comforting him! Grant noticed the glare and winked; he knew what he was doing.

"I… think so," Will answered slowly.

"Good." Grant nodded to Chris. Chris drew back and punched the other man, snapping his head into the floor.

The brown eyes watching them glazed over even further and a sharp yelp escaped him. Fear and confusion flickered through Will's eyes. "Jack? Wha… what did I do?" Nothing in Will's mind could come up with any reason for Jack to be mad at him.

Grant didn't answer and Chris punched him again. Will's mind was spinning in helpless, confused circles. Jack was his best friend; why was he doing this to him?

Blacksword's first mate reached into his belt and slowly pulled out a knife. Will's unfocused eyes widened further. "Jack? Jack, what… what are you doing?" His heart sped up and he started breathing faster, his gasping intakes coming in hurried gasps. As the beating of his heart became faster, he started having more problems remaining conscious.

"You little bastard, did you honestly think a pirate like me could ever be friends with someone like you?" Grant questioned, obviously enjoying the torment he was instilling in the prisoner.

Will stared in disbelief, though his eyes weren't actually focused on anything. He couldn't believe what he was hearing! Yet, he could hear Jack's voice and his mind was instantly supplying the pictures to accompany it.

Chris took the blade of his knife and lightly ran the edge along Will's chest. It slowly came to rest over his ribs; close to the wound Blacksword had given him- one of them at least, the one just to the left of his stomach.

He slowly increased pressure to the blade, slowly forcing the serrated edge between two of Will's ribs. Will tensed and screamed as waves of agony rolled through his body. 'Jack,' he thought through his pain, 'why are you doing this to me? I thought we were friends; I trusted you!'

Chris twisted the knife as far as the ribs it was between would allow, attempting to do as much damage and instill as much pain as possible without fatally injuring the prisoner. Will arched his back against the floor slightly against the floor, trying in vain to escape the agony assaulting him.

Salty tears began to slowly roll down Will's cheeks, fear and agony beginning to rise to the breaking point. "Jack," he whimpered, "Jack, please. Please… stop."

Grant laughed harshly, "I shall not show you mercy, for you are deserving of none."

Suddenly, Chris ripped out his knife, easily doing as much, if not more, damage as it came out than as it went in. Will screamed again as he felt the serrated blade edge biting into and ripping out of flesh and muscle, scraping dangerously against the inside of his ribs.

His vision blurred and his glazed eyes clouded over even further. "Jack…" he murmured in a whisper before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and consciousness fled him. His body went completely limp in front of Chris.

"Chris, wake him up," Grant said, momentarily dropping his imitation of Captain Sparrow's voice. "He's not getting out of this so easily."

Roughly taking hold of the young blacksmith's shoulders, Chris squeezed hard on Will's right shoulder, forcing the bone to shift out of place. The bone moved, grinding harshly against itself and sending white flashes of pain through the unconscious body. Chris could only speculate on just how much pain he was causing.

As pain flashed through his body, it jolted his mind back into awareness. Will almost started crying again as he realized the temporary relief had been just that- temporary.

"What's this?" Grant taunted, once again imitating Jack's voice. "Broken already? I thought you were stubborn." As he was saying this, Chris flipped his knife over and began digging the hilt into Will's broken shoulder.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, all of Will's resolve and pride shattered and he burst into tears. "Please… stop," he begged, no longer able to stand it any more. "Jack, please, don't. What ever I did… whatever it was… I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry… whatever I did. Just stop, please."

Blacksword smiled; he had been trying to break Will for several days and had been unable to do so. Now, after less than an hour, Chris had successfully and completely broken the prisoner's will.

Continuing to press hard on Will's shoulder with the hilt of his knife, Chris could barely contain his laughter. He could feel the bone shifting and grinding against itself as it also ripped through the muscles there, and he knew that if he felt it, then it had to be absolute hell for Will.

Will continued sobbing, hot tears sliding down his cheeks. His anguish was making it difficult to breathe and it choked off his breath. He couldn't take it any more, and at the moment he would have given almost anything to die. Unfortunately, Blacksword and his crew were nowhere near done with him, and they were not about to let their leverage over Jack Sparrow slip away.

Then, still keeping the hilt dug into Will's shoulder, Chris reached over and poised his fist over the other's face. "I grow tired of you," Grant sneered finally. "I will see you again later."

With that, Chris slammed his fist into Will's face, cracking his skull once again into the floor under him. Both the pain in his shoulder and ribs, and now the ache in his skull caused everything to swim sickeningly. Will, no longer having any reason to remain conscious, let his mind flee into blessed, painless oblivion, but before it completely slid from him, one final word slipped from his lips.

"Jack…"

He was deeply pleased and doubted he'd get much more so until Jack Sparrow was dead.

Blacksword was standing in the brig, watching his unconscious prisoner with interest. He had already sent Chris in a rowboat to find Jack Sparrow, even though it had only been five hours since they had finished tormenting the young blacksmith.

He slowly paced in front of the cell, his mind drifting slightly. Chris had been told to do anything he had to in order to convince Captain Sparrow that his friend was indeed a captive to him.

A delighted shudder ran through him. It was going well. In fact, he highly doubted that there would be any problems having the young Turner die once Jack got there. In honesty, the biggest problem would be keeping him alive for that long.

At that thought, Black Andrew turned his attention back to Will, carefully trying to evaluate his condition. The young man had lost a lot of blood and so many of his injuries were serious and even bordering on fatal. The only good thing was that he was stubborn, or at least he had been before he had completely broken under Chris's torture. Hopefully he still had enough strength left in him to stay alive, at least until Sparrow came to save him.

Black Andrew shook his head slightly. Will Turner was a bloody, broken body with nothing left to keep him alive. As a person, he would have been aware of just how precariously balanced Will's life was and just how little it would take to tip it and send it crashing over the edge to death, yet with Andrew the way he was, he was completely oblivious. All he understood was that he had Will at his absolute mercy.

With a shake of his head, he thought to himself, 'Pluto, I know you can hear me. Use your powers to keep Will Turner alive until Jack Sparrow gets here. Then you'll have an innocent soul like you want and we'll both be happy.'

There was no verbal answer, but Blacksword could sense the god's agreement. A smile spread across his face; all was going as planned. Jack Sparrow did not have a prayer.

TBC

One last thing. Torture is FUN! Okay, I'm done.