"We have a possible spinal injury with a possible blueberry, possible shock with a possible apple, and a ride-along kiwi." Hahahahaha! #notices everyone staring# Leave me alone, you don't understand.
Eek! I've hit 60 reviews! I feel LOVED!
Okay, first order of business. I have decided to give away a free evil pirate to each reviewer for them to do what they want with. Anyone who wants BlackSword, Chris, Grant, and/or Roxy, I will start the bidding at one invisible cookie each. Hehehe. Cookies.
Anyways, this chapter goes back to Will, so expect some more owwies.
Williz – Yay! You're back! I missed you last chapter. And yes, Jack knows. I'm uber glad you liked that chapter, so here's the next one.
Smithy – Weee, someone noticed. I don't know why but I personally find it more fun to physically torture Will and mentally torture Jack. #shrugs# Oh well, it all works for me. As to whether or not it will end soon… Well, I'd say we've maybe hit the half-way mark.
Trinilee Greenleaf – Ack! Hug… Dying… You know what I'll do? I'll give you another bear hug, and pass your hug along to Will. I think he needs more than I do at the moment. Hehe. Oh, and, as I said earlier, definate yes to Tommy and Adam. There was this one episode where Tommy went shirtless for a good ten minutes at least. Drool. And Jason wsan't bad shirtless either. And I'll give you an extra evil pirate minion. Since we're currently bidding on the main ones, you can take out your anger on the nameless ones. Enjoy!
Sanquinedarkness666 – Yes, Jack is mad. Okay, I know we share Jack but still… You also share Will with Bethany, whereas I don't, so can't Jack be a teensie bit more mine than yours? Please? #puppy dog pout# Mr. LaPlame will be driven up the walls if we're in the same class. And I did see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. My favorite line had to be, "Everything in this room it eatable. Even I'm eatable. But that children, is called cannibalism, and is not accepted in most nations." Haha! I loved it.
Daphnebandweenie – Good, then I'm not the only one who doesn't know my music. Ack! Band camp starts Monday! NOOOOOOOOOOOO! One the bright side though, only a month until I turn seventeen! Yay!
SpufFan – I couldn't forget you, that would be bad. And I know about the whole action thing, it tends to come in spurts. Sorry. Hope you enjoy this chapter.
Random Reviewing Person – Here's a tissue. Hope you're okay, 'cause all systems are go for more Will torture. You have been warned.
MagRowan – And yet another new reviewer! Yay! I'm thrilled that you like my story. It sends warm, fuzzies through me. Hmmm, some semblance of okay… well, you'll just have to keep reading and judge for yourself. That's cool about how you picture the characters though. I don't know who Dawg is because I've never seen Cutthroat Island, but I do agree with you about Jackie though. Sometimes when I was writing, he would just sound (in my head, of course) so much like Alex O'Connell that it was scary. I actually went back and made sure I didn't steal Alex's "My dad is going to kick your ass." line. But that's cool since they're the same age. Anyway, glad you like it and here's more.
Um… I think that's all I have to say. Except there is a torture warning for this chapter. Be prepared, and on to the new chapter.
---------------------
BlackSword
---------------------
Chapter 9
Pain… white, agonizing pain. Jack. More pain. His whole life was nothing but pain and he almost couldn't remember anything before it.
Jack's face swam slowly into view. The pirate roughly grabbed onto his shoulder and forced him over. Broken bones ground together, shredding nerves and ripping through muscles. This had gone on for far too long; if the abuse to his shoulder continued, he would probably never fully regain the use of it.
Sobs racked his broken body. Will no longer even attempted to control his tears, he was so far gone. "Jack!" he whimpered brokenly. "Jack…" Another agonizing wave swept through him-
And suddenly he snapped awake, finally shaking himself free of the dark clutches of his nightmare. Shudders coursed through him and he gasped for breath. Sharp nausea filled him and he sat up quickly, despite the dizziness that assaulted him.
The sudden movement caused a sharp clank as the shackles around his wrists rattled against each other. He leaned forward and pulled himself up as far as he could and sat on his knees, most of his weight resting on his left hand as he doubled over slightly. His nausea rolled through him and he suddenly threw up.
His chest heaved again and his stomach emptied. Had he been more aware, he would have noticed the blood that came up with the rest. The worst part was that it was almost more than his weakened body could handle.
As his left arm began to shiver beneath his weight, he leaned back. What strength he had gathered quickly fled him and he fell back, the chains clanking again.
Will shuddered helplessly. Less than a week ago, the sound of the shackles would have startled him, now, though, he was used to it. The sad thing was that, at the moment, he considered it part of a normal existence and he couldn't even imagine the chains not being there.
He was so tired; he desperately needed to sleep. Yet every time he tried, he wound up caught in a hellish nightmare. Actually, memory was more like it. As tired and weak as he was, his fear of reliving the beatings 'Jack' had put him through was greater.
He almost passed out again as he struggled to get enough oxygen. Even breathing had become extraordinarily painful and difficult.
The constant struggle often made him want to just give up and die; in fact, the one thing that made him actually try to stay alive was the one thing other than the pain he remembered. Elizabeth… Elizabeth and Jackie.
Will almost smiled then, memories of his wife and son swirling in his mind. He remembered the first time he had kissed Elizabeth. They had been standing on a small balcony, overlooking the Caribbean Sea. He could still feel her touch, the way her arms slid around him and the feel of the smooth skin of her neck under his hands. Her father had been standing off to the side, watching, but they had not cared.
He longed to once again feel her lips on his, to smell the sweetness of her breath. He missed the feel of her body pressed against him.
It wasn't just the physical things he missed. He missed the way her bright eyes would light up with joy when he got home. The way her laughter rang clearly through the house… it always made him happy.
Although… he was insanely glad she wasn't here. He didn't want her to see him like this. Besides, if she had been there, she would have fought with them every single time they had come to torture him.
The ship rocked abruptly, causing him to jerk hard against his chains. Agony shot through him, completely overriding the pleasure that the thought of Elizabeth had caused. The pressure on his wrists caused the muscles in is back to tense, causing blinding flashes of pain to race through the welts along his back as they were ground into the wooden floor.
There was a strange creak, and fear jolted through him. Will knew what that sound meant. Someone was coming for him, probably so 'Jack' could torture him further.
Ricky came into view and he whimpered softly. He couldn't take much more. Something was going to have to break, and his will already had. The only thing they had left to take was his life.
"Hello, I'm surprised to see you awake," Ricky said.
Will didn't respond, instead, he merely stared up at the pirate, his dark brown eyes reflecting pain and fear.
The smile Ricky turned on Will was cold and full of malice. "Scared?" he taunted. "Good!" He bent down and pressed hard against his neck, constricting his oxygen intake.
Flailing helplessly, Will tried to force Ricky's hands off his neck but it was impossible.
Other than his broken shoulder and injured ribs, his neck was one of the things they enjoyed using to cause him pain. The cut along the base of it burned as Ricky's hand dug painfully into it.
Yellow spots danced in his vision as his body began to shut down. Just as his heart slowed to a stopping point, something jolted through him, quickly forcing it to speed back up to a normal speed.
Slowly, he realized that Ricky was no longer clamped onto his neck and that he could once again breathe. Agony rolled through his chest as his heart pounded furiously, placing more stress on the injury Blacksword had given him two weeks ago. The original stab wound located inches from his heart often throbbed as his heart sped up and hadn't healed due to the constant blood flow that ran through it.
Blood loss… that was probably the cause of the majority of his weakness, as the broken bones, stab wounds, and whiplashes were the causes of the constant agony.
Ricky smirked, "Poor blacksmith, you have absolutely no release from your pain. You can't even die; the Captain made sure of that."
It was obvious Black Andrew and his crew were aware he no longer found respite in unconsciousness.
A soft shiver ran through Will's body, and even that caused harsh agony to shoot through him. Ricky, smile still on his face, unlocked the shackles from Will's wrists. The chains fell away, leaving behind only the blood on his raw, blistered wrists.
The constant presence of the bonds had rubbed most of the skin off where they always touched. That was another source of constant pain, yet that was one of the few sources of pain he was so accustomed to that he no longer noticed it.
The pirate forced the blacksmith to his feet; he now knew better than to expect Will to be able to support himself. Will's body was slightly limp, leaning heavily against Ricky. He didn't trust Ricky, didn't want to be forced to rely on another, yet he had no choice.
He was a prisoner, helpless and at the mercy of Blacksword. He couldn't control what he did, could no longer control his emotions. He couldn't even die, and at the moment, that's what he wanted.
'Why can't I find a release?' Will wondered. 'God, why won't you just let me die? What does keeping me alive accomplish? If this is some kind of test, I don't want to take it!'
There was no answer, at least not that he recognized. He sighed as heavily as his weary, broken body would allow. If only he could die; he could feel the blessed release from the pain. He would gladly face hell and it's demons in exchange for a stop to the agony. Hell couldn't be this bad.
Will realized he had been drug across the ship and he was now in the room so many of his beatings had occurred. To his horror, he heard a silky voice say, "Well, if it isn't my 'best friend'."
Fear filled Will; not again, not Jack. He already had more nightmares than he could deal with. This was too much for him to handle.
Hell was definitely starting to look good.
Jack grimaced; it had been two days since Chris had told him of Will. Two days in which Jack had slept less than an hour. Two days he had spent loathing his inability to find the Assassin. Days he had spent absolutely hating himself.
He glanced in frustration out the small porthole in his room. As the captain, he had one of the only single cabins on the Pearl- the other was mostly used by Ana Maria when she was aboard, or at the moment, Jackie.
Standing up from his cot, he slowly walked out of his quarters, heading to the deck. Though it wasn't his shift at the wheel, he couldn't sleep so he might as well allow whoever was on duty to go to sleep.
Paul was leaning up against the wheel, sleepy but alert. He heard the soft creak of wood and he turned quickly. His green eyes fell upon his captain and his eyes narrowed curiously. "Captain? Aren't you supposed to be asleep?"
Continuing up to the wheel, Jack answered, "I can't sleep. Why don't you take a break; I'll take the helm."
Paul pushed himself off the wheel, his blonde hair glittering slightly in the starlight. "Captain, you have not slept in two days. Go to sleep."
Jack's caramel eyes flashed in the darkness. "How can I? We only have two weeks to find Will before Blacksword kills him. Now you tell me, how am I supposed to sleep knowing that?"
"You won't help him by not sleeping. We'll tell you as soon as the Assassin comes into view, you know that."
Jack didn't answer; he merely stared darkly at Paul. While not sleeping certainly didn't help Will, it kept him from having horrid nightmares about what Black Andrew was doing to the younger man. In the one hour he had slept, the screams that had plagued his dreams had been burned permanently into his mind, along with his friend's bloody form.
"Captain?" Paul asked, voice laced with concern. "Are you okay?"
"How are we supposed to do this?" Jack asked suddenly, ignoring Paul's question. It didn't matter to him that he was the captain; that he was supposed to know what to do. He didn't like the decision before him, so he wanted someone else to tell him what to do. "How in the hell are we going to find one ship in the Caribbean in only two weeks? We don't even have a clue as to where they might be."
Paul shrugged, "Perhaps someone at one of the ports will know where they are." When he saw Jack's look he quickly defended himself. "It's possible. They'll have had to stop at a port for supplies."
Jack groaned softly. Here was yet another decision tat could decide whether or not he was able to save Will. He could take the risk that someone in one of the ports had seen the Assassin, possibly drastically cutting down on the time it would take to find it, or he could simply sail around the Caribbean and hope they ran into Black Andrew's ship. Both had a large possibility of resulting in Will's death; therefore neither were options he particularly liked.
"Don't worry, Captain," Paul said suddenly, almost startling Jack. "The Black Pearl is the fastest ship in the Caribbean. We'll find your friend, and he'll be fine. You'll be able to return both he and his son to Elizabeth.
A new thought had occurred to Paul and he looked curiously at Jack. "Have you told Jackie that his father is alive?"
Quickly shaking his head, Jack responded, "No. I'm not planning on telling him until we rescue Will. I don't want to get his hopes up, especially since there is no guarantee we'll find him alive. I can't make him cry again. Losing someone once is bad enough, to lose that person twice…" He shook his head, 'It would be absolute hell. I can't even begin to imagine it."
Paul stared closely at his captain, trying hard to see through the darkness. Obviously everything that had happened had made Jack view things in a slightly different light, because he had never heard Jack talk like that before.
"Paul, go to sleep. I need something to do, I'll take the helm."
"But… Captain," Paul began.
Jack glared darkly at him and the other man quickly got the point. Reluctantly, Paul started down below deck.
He would have to talk to Miguel; the lack of sleep would soon begin to affect the captain. Hopefully with Miguel's help he would be able to convince Jack to get some sleep. 'Although,' he reflected sadly, 'sleeping won't help ease the captain's worries. We had best find Will Turner, or I have a feeling the captain will not be able to get over it.'
Miguel had thought the same thing and had told his friend that very thing. At first, Paul had doubted how much this had actually affected Jack, but he now understood. There was a connection between Jack and Will, strong and true. No matter how unlikely it had been, the two were equals and the once bloodthirsty pirate had found a friend, and regained both his ship and his morality because of it.
Jack watched Paul leave, and then turned back to the helm. His caramel eyes searched uselessly through the darkness, hoping to see the Assassin, yet knowing how unlikely it was he would find it.
A slight smile threatened to play across his face as memories swam through him.
"Not possible," Barbossa hissed, cold blue eyes widening as he saw Jack.
"Not probable," he corrected, large drunken grin on his face.'
'Not probable,' he thought to himself ruefully. 'That is the best way to describe the likelihood of me finding Will.' Another memory struck him and determination flashed through him. 'Then again, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. I've been marooned twice on the same island, and both times I got off. I've had a sword run through me, yet I still killed the man who did it. Finding Blacksword and saving Will shouldn't be difficult.'
He then shook his head. 'Fake confidence isn't going to help, Sparrow,' he chided himself 'Keep an eye out and stay alert. Don't want the Assassin to slip by without me noticing.'
With a sigh, Jack silently decided that despite what Miguel and Paul said, sleep was not something he needed to worry about. He didn't need the nightmares. 'I wonder if Will has had any nightmares about what's happening to him?'
With a terrified gasp, Will's eyes flew open as consciousness returned in a rush. As always, the pain was the first thing he was aware of. His brown eyes darted fearfully around the small cell, praying he wouldn't spot 'Jack'. When he didn't find the other, a sigh of utter relief ran through his injured body. Even the sigh caused agony to shoot through his chest; his bruised organs, broken bones, and shredded muscles and nerves feeling even the light pressure increase.
He let his eyes drift closed, but he soon realized the mistake. Once his eyes closed and all light was shut out, the one thing he saw in his mind's eye was 'Jack'. 'Jack's' cold, mocking caramel eyes filled his mind and he almost flinched before he realized that it was only an image his frightened mind had conjured up. His eyes flew open again, trying to erase the images inside him.
Unconsciously relaxing slightly, his vision blurred; as he relaxed, his mind loosened its hold on him, about to release him into the black oblivion of unconsciousness. Only his fear of his nightmares kept him from fading completely. His mind was exhausted; he hadn't slept- well, not really slept- in more than a week and a half. Before, though, the near-constant unconsciousness had made up for the lack of sleep.
Will started to roll his eyes, then stopped as he realized even that caused him pain.
"I bet you wish it was still me torturing you," a voice said. Normally Will would have jumped and spun to see whom it was, but both his shackles and his injuries prevented either. It didn't matter anyway, he already recognized the voice.
Blacksword stepped into his line of sight, and though fear filled him, it was nowhere near the magnitude as the fear that 'Jack' caused. Strange sadness filled him at that thought.
Jack had been one of his only friends, and the trust that had been between them had been strong. Strong enough, in fact, that despite everything that had happened to him, he didn't absolutely hate the other man. There was fear, yes- actually terror was a more accurate emotion- fear and mistrust.
Mistrust… that was the worst. Will was just young and naïve enough to not understand betrayal, and the new feeling- actually, by now, it was more than a week old emotion- was what upset him the most.
He wanted nothing more than to trust Jack again. At this point, if 'Jack' asked him for forgiveness, he would forgive the other instantly. That was how much he wanted things to go back to normal.
"Thinking about him again, are you," Blacksword asked suddenly, interrupting Will's thoughts. Will slowly turned his head and stared dully at the evil captain, letting his eyes reflect his pain. When his question garnered no further response he continued, "Not much of a surprise."
After a few seconds, Will could no longer stand it, so he asked the question that had been bothering him. "How did you manage… to get Jack to betray me? What did you do to him?"
"We merely made him choose between your life and his. Since he's a pirate, there was only one logical choice for him to make." Actually, from what Blacksword knew, nothing was logical when it came to Jack Sparrow, especially since from what he had heard, the other captain actually would give his life to keep the young blacksmith from harm. He felt no remorse for lying to the other man and he still enjoyed the torment the deception instilled in Will.
Will lowered his eyes and winced as a slight rock in the ship caused another wave of pain to sweep through him. Though he had asked before, he suddenly, desperately needed to know why this was happening to him. "Why do you want me? Jack's already here, why do you still need me? And what did Jack do to make you no longer want to kill him?"
Blacksword froze; when he had come to the cell, he hadn't expected to be answering these sort of questions. 'What should I say? How can I answer without giving away the truth?' Finally a smile flickered across his face as he decided what to say.
"You are the best swordsman in the Caribbean, as previously explained. I still plan to fight you for that title, thus my reasoning for keeping you alive." He couldn't miss the look of pure dismay that passed across the other's open face.
"You want me to fight you?" Will asked, voice quavering in fear. Normally, he would have relished the opportunity to kill the man doing this to him; but now he knew it was no contest. Blacksword would completely annihilate him in the shape he was in. He couldn't even stand on his own; how did Blacksword expect him to fight?
"Of course, what did you expect? If I don't have you, how am I supposed to regain my title as the best? I can't just shoot you; that doesn't count. Why do you think I've been so interested in weakening you? I'm following the rules of engagement, yet I'm still guaranteeing myself victory. It's brilliant, isn't it?"
Will shivered in pain. Before his captivity he would have told Blacksword, in a colorful fashion, what exactly he thought of his plan. Now, though, fear caused him to hold his tongue. He already got beaten more than he could handle; he wasn't going to give them yet another excuse to visit their wrath upon him.
A mocking smile slid across Black Andrew's face. "Do you want to know about Captain Sparrow? About why I hate him?"
The young blacksmith didn't answer but the curiosity in his glazed, brown eyes told Blacksword more than any verbal response could. Will did want to know the reason why; but at the same time, the mention of Jack caused fear to skitter through him.
"When I first met Sparrow, I was the most feared pirate around. He, though, was one of the best-known pirates. I fought him because I had once been the best fighter in the Caribbean and I believed he was, at that time, the one who had stolen my title." His green eyes had grown hard and unforgiving, reflecting every angry emotion inside his cruel body. As his anger and malice grew, so did his urge to take out those feelings on the helpless man.
"Anyway, we fought, and, as you can probably guess, he won the duel. That wasn't what angered me; what did was his attitude about it." There was a flash as his emotions reflected through his eyes. "That bastard was showing off and laughing about it. He was mocking me, because I had once been the best swordsman."
Suddenly, Blacksword spun and knelt in front of Will, pulling him roughly up as far as the shackles would allow. His hands were clamped tightly on Will's shoulders, causing sharp sparks of pain to shoot through his broken right shoulder.
Gasping in agony, Will nearly passed out under the assault. 'Why is it always my shoulder?' Will wondered miserably. 'Are they just strangely fascinated by broken bones?'
"Do you want to know what he said?" Blacksword asked angrily, his face mere inches from Will's. "Do you want to know? He was bragging about how easily he had beaten me."
Moving his face even closer to Will's, he changed voice into a harsh mockery of Jack's. "I'm not even the best swordsman. A friend of mine, Will Turner, is much better than I'll ever be. It's a good thing I'm not him, or I'd have completely slaughtered you."
"Then," Blacksword continued with a hiss, "as if that wasn't bad enough, after all that humiliation, he let me live." His eyes were full of anger and loathing. "He didn't even give me the honor of death at the hand of a pirate. Do you realize how much that damaged both my reputation and my dignity?"
Will didn't answer, he couldn't answer. The pain radiating from his shoulder had stolen his breath from him, making it all but impossible for him to make ant sounds, much less actually form words.
Blacksword couldn't know it, but Will actually did know how it felt, although at the moment he couldn't remember. When Blacksword had forced all those drugs and that liquor down him, and earlier when he had had Will strapped to the mast and drawn those first, frustrated tears from him, he had done far more damage to Will's dignity and pride than he could realize.
"That is why I hate Captain Sparrow. And that is why I feel that, to regain my status, I must kill you." Abruptly, he let go of Will's shoulder, allowing the bone to snap back into place. He felt the shudder run through the younger man's body, a shudder no doubt caused by having the bone rip through the muscles in his shoulder, again.
Will, having finally been released, fell back to the floor, his breath coming in whimpering, ragged gasps. He shivered uncontrollably, hoping somewhere in his pain-numbed mind that he would simply die. Unfortunately, once again, there was no such luck.
Black Andrew remained beside Will, considering his options. He could leave or he could remain here and continue to torment his prisoner. His eyes drifted over the young man's bloody form, wondering about the other torture methods he could use on Will without killing him. Though Pluto had agreed to keep the young blacksmith alive, it was also clear that if they went too far with their torture, he'd die anyway.
A smile flashed across the pirate captain's face as his eyes fell upon Will's wrist, immediately above where the shackles were; his attention becoming riveted on the mark branded into his skin.
"If… if you hate J… Jack so much…" Will began weakly, startling Blacksword slightly, "why… why did you forgive him and let him come freely aboard the Assassin?"
For a moment, Blacksword didn't know how to answer without giving away the truth behind their entire deception. What possible reason would he have to have to allow Sparrow free roam of his ship?"
Finally deciding on a suitable answer, Blacksword lied, "He surrendered fully to me. Gave up his ship, everything." Inside, he knew that even if the real Jack Sparrow surrendered to him, he would still kill the other man; fortunately, though, the man in front of him didn't know that.
Will watched him miserably. He could guess how it felt to surrender completely; after all, he might as well have surrendered to Blacksword, with as much control as he had. He felt 'almost' sorry for Jack, knowing as he did, how the pirate valued his ship and his freedom.
'Why do I feel sorry for Jack?' Will wondered to himself. 'After all, the only thing he has done to me lately is torture me. So why do I still care?'
'Because,' he answered himself sadly, 'no matter what he's done to me , I still want him to be my friend. God, I'm pathetic.'
He realized with a start that Blacksword was gone. Unexplained fear filled him as he twisted slightly in his bonds, searching for the other. If Blacksword was gone, then something was about to happen.
There was a creak and his heart sped up, despite the pain that it caused. He almost fainted as his fear continued to rise uncontrollably.
Blacksword steeped back into view, now holding a sword in one hand. Will watched him, fear and curiosity mixing together, along with the relief that it wasn't Jack.
Sitting down beside Will, Black Andrew allowed the sword to rest across his lap. "Where did you get that brand?" he asked, voice full and silky.
Simply Blacksword's tone of voice made Will's head throb. "Jack… Jack gave me the… brand. I… asked him to." Talking was starting to make him nauseous, and he was also starting to drift into unconsciousness.
"Most people wish to be rid of the brand. I could remove yours."
Wearily, Will shook his head. His pirate brand wasn't something he wanted to be rid of, at least not that much.
"Oh, so you like the brand? I'll give you another if you so like." As he said this, he picked up his sword and gently wrapped his hand around the steel blade, letting his powers flare. Slowly his powers began to heat the metal blade, turning it from steel grey to a light red. Will watched with dull fascination, though it was something he had seen many times before, mostly when he made swords.
Finally, Black Andrew was satisfied with the heating of the sword and he let go. Suddenly, Will realized what the other was planning on doing, and fear shot through his heart. Then, without any further warning, Blacksword took his scalding hot sword and sliced it deep into Will's left arm.
The super-heated metal cut through him, burning skin, muscles, and nerves. Will screamed as agonizing waves swept through him. The sole upside to the blade being heated as it was, was the fact that it instantly cauterized the wound, preventing any further loss of blood.
Slowly, Blacksword continued to make the long, thin, burning cuts down first his left then his right arm. Soon Will didn't even have the strength to scream, so he merely shuddered and whimpered uncontrollably, hoping Blacksword would soon stop.
It wasn't as if this were the first time something like it had happened, yet never before at this multitude. It was only natural that, as a blacksmith, he had accidentally cut himself with the super-heated swords as he made them. Even though it had happened before, it didn't mean that he didn't feel the pain, and it was no less painful than it would have been for anyone else.
Blacksword stopped drawing the lines along Will's arms once the metal had cooled. He wrapped his fingers around the blade, once again waiting for it to heat up. He watched the dark blood on the sword as it heated and darkened to a thin black coating.
Glancing over at the shivering, younger man, Blacksword had a strange impulse to abandon the sword he held. Quickly setting it down, he then grabbed up Will's right hand. Jerking it forward was far as the shackles allowed, he then waited until his free hand started glowing. He slowly forced the other's palm down onto his glowing hot hand, causing the sensitive skin to burn.
Will, still unable to scram, managed only a soft, helpless moan. He could feel it as the heat burned skin and nerves. The pain was incredible and intense and stole his breath from him. The world started swimming in and out of focus as Will's heart sped up and his injured body became unable to keep up with the demand for oxygen. Finally, he lost the battle for consciousness and his body went limp as his eyes- once again- rolled into the back of his head.
Blacksword felt the change in the other almost instantly. It was especially obvious that something was different when the muscles that had been tense and resisting relaxed. He quickly pulled the younger man's hand from his own. With a disgusted snort, he pushed Will off him, forcing the limp blacksmith's body away. The young man's body fell heavily to the floor.
Slowly standing, Black Andrew gathered up his sword. He started away and as he left, he thought unhappily to himself, 'After he dies, someone's going to have to clean up all the blood.' It wasn't a chore he was looking forward to. 'This boy is almost more trouble than he is worth. A soon as I get Sparrow, he's dead, and I'm rid of him forever.'
TBC
Oh, poor Will. More boo-boos. #shrugs# Oh well.
Anyways, I'll see you cats later. Peace. I'm out.