Hello lovely people! Sorry these last couple of chapters have been so long in coming but I've been really busy with school and sorts of other crap. Hope you can all forgive me!
Okay since you've waited long enough for this, I'll just answer your reviews then get on with the story. No extra jibber-jabber.
Captain Sarah Sparrow – Well I guess that means my descriptions are up to par! Thanks for the review. It made me happy!
Numen – Sorry the update took so long. Hope that last part wasn't too disgusting. This part should be a little tamer.
Dancin – Okay you get a cookie. Your review just made all my troubles go away. Poof! They're gone! Here we go with the next chapter.
Daphnebandweenie – "The psycho I had for a friend in school"? Oh that's real nice. tear Oh well. Yay! I've already passed off. I'm done until after Thanksgiving. Yay!
SpufFan – I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I SOOOOO SORRY! Hope I didn't aggravate your "condition" too much. Well, I hope this chapter helps to sooth your traumatized soul. And you're not a spaz. You're just fun.
Williz – "Best story ever," huh? Cool! Yes, Norry's here. Ya know, for some reason whenever I think about him I want to drench him and see what he'd look like with that powdered wig all soggy. But that's just me.
Smithy – Yes wound tending is good. And as far as the reunion goes… Well you'll just have to wait and see…
MagRowan – Yeah, he may not be one of my favorite characters, but he struck me as the sort of person who only wanted to do the right thing. And don't worry about Higsby. He won't cause problems. That's one thing I will tell you. And yes, that is the million dollar question. Where IS the Black Pearl? Haha! Wait and see.
Sanquinedarkness666 - joins in the beating, using Conner why are we beating him with our band instruments, again? Yeah, getting closer to the end now. Probably about three chapters left. So sad.
Madame Opera Ghost – No! Don't kill me! If you do, you won't be able to find out what happens next!
Pearl-MagicGirl – Tears. Awww. Makes me feel like I'm doing something right. Yay! And thanks for the cookie. Here's the next chapter in return.
Saharan Sparrow – That's okay. Just glad you reviewed now. And I'm not making anyone any promises about Will. Mwahahaha!
Trinilee Greenleaf – A guitar? Cool! Now you can play the Top Gun anthem and that cool Power Rangers guitar solo. And yeah, that's one of the things I like to focus on, their inner feeling and all. It bothers some people but I'm glad you like it. Well… I'm not going to tell you if you have to follow through on your threat or not. I'm evil like that. But I hope you like this chapter.
Hawkstra – Glad you like the chapter. Hope I didn't mess up your clock too much with this late post. And yeah, I've though about a Star Wars fic. In fact, I have part of one up. But it was from back my seventh grade year, so it's pretty bad. But honestly, I'm more into the original trilogy characters, and the ones from the New Jedi Order series. Anyway, hope you like this chapter.
Goma-Ryu Immortal Vampire – No hablo inglés. Haha… Okay, lame joke. But basically it means I'm not telling anyone how this turns out.
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BlackSword
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Chapter 16
One Week Later
On one hand, Jack was thrilled because Will was still alive. On the other hand though, he was still worried because the young man hadn't seemed to get any better. Will would fade in and out of consciousness- unconsciousness more often than not- and in either state, he would mumble occasionally to himself, making Jack wonder if the young man was delirious.
"No… Jack," Will whimpered. While he was unconscious, Jack's name was one of the most common words Will would utter; unfortunately, it was normally accompanied by a string of curse words. "Damn you."
Jack sighed; Will wasn't conscious, but it still hurt, all the same, to hear Will say that. He couldn't control his desire for Will to wake up; then at least the insults would stop.
'So, Chris was right about what had been done to Will.' Indeed, the other man had been eerily precise about the injuries that the blacksmith had sustained.
About an hour or so after setting Will's shoulder, Miguel had treated the other numerous injuries that has threatened his life. Jack had been highly alarmed to see the just how seriously injured Will had been.
Pacing back and forth, Jack couldn't control all his emotions and he found himself from chewing on his lower lip. Anxiety was burning him up from the inside and he didn't have any way to relieve it. Commodore Norrington had repeatedly insisted that there was no rum or any other liquor on board the Dauntless, and that was what Jack most longed for.
That, and the Black Pearl. He realized that he had no idea where his ship was. After Yin Sao had taken them prisoner… he didn't have the faintest notion of what had been done to her. He would need to discuss that later with Norrington.
A soft groan told him that Will had… temporarily regained consciousness. "Will?" he asked softly as he turned around.
"Oh, God, it feels like… I have a hangover."
Jack's eyes widened and he couldn't help but laugh. He had never imagined hearing his friend say that. "How do you know what a hangover feels like?" he questioned. A few seconds later he remembered why, and he could have kicked himself for asking.
"I guarantee you, in the past… how long… has it been?" Will asked. He was still pale and having trouble breathing, but Jack was holding out the hope that since Will was still alive, he would remain that way.
"A little more than a month," Jack replied.
"In the past… month, I've had more hangovers… more than you have in the past… few years… A month!" It took Will slightly longer than Jack had expected to grasp the length of his imprisonment.
The shock in Will's pain-glazed dark brown eyes was hard to face. He nodded slowly, wishing he could say otherwise.
Dismay was clearly written on the blacksmith's face. "A … month?" he repeated.
"Anyway, what makes you think you have me beat?" Jack questioned, hoping to draw Will's attention to another subject. "You'll have to have been drunk just about every single day to have me topped."
At first, Will didn't say anything; he just smiled bitterly and nodded. After a second he added, "And I'm not counting… the aftereffects of the… drugs."
Wincing inwardly, Jack didn't let Will see how much that angered him. The idea of everything that the young man had suffered at the hands of Blacksword and his crew was painful. "I'm sorry," he finally apologized. "I'm so sorry."
Will blinked, "What… for?"
"I should have gotten there sooner. I never should have let it happen in the first place."
Sinking into a thoughtful silence, Will didn't comment. Something was tugging at his awareness; not totally related to what was going on, but…
"When we… were aboard the Assassin… you… called me… brother. Why?" he asked slowly and weakly.
At first, Jack was confused. When he had accidentally said that, he hadn't realized Will had heard him. He didn't even know why he had said that; Will was just his best friend. He didn't have any family- they had all died when he was a child- but maybe that was why. Will and Elizabeth were his closest- and only- real friends; possibly that had something to do with it.
"Uh, I really don't know," Jack admitted. "It just…happened. Strange thing was," he said almost to himself, voice dropping to a mumble, "that it felt right."
"What do you mean, felt… right?" Will pressed, once again catching Jack off guard.
Jack gave him a playful glare. "You're unconscious for almost a week, now you're asking more questions than the Royal Navy. I think I liked it better the other way." He then sighed, once again turning serious. "I really don't know how to explain it. It just felt… right, somewhere. I can't describe it."
A smile flickered across Will's face. "Some… pirate you are." He closed his eyes and took a deep, ragged breath, concentrating on remaining consciousness. Opening his eyes again, he remembered one other thing. "Jack… are you… okay?"
The change in topics caught him by surprise. "Of course," he answered slowly. "Why would I not?"
"Blacksword… he almost…" Will hesitated and swallowed hard. His hands balled into fists, but almost immediately unclenched. The flash of pain that had shot through his broken shoulder and upper arm had been intense and almost debilitating. "He almost… gutted you," he finally forced out. Tears began to well in his dark brown eyes, threatening to spill onto his bruised cheeks.
Jack was shocked. How could Will feel even remotely responsible for anything that had happened? "Will, that wasn't your fault. If I hadn't abandoned you aboard the Assassin, none of this shit would have happened. If it's anyone's fault, it's mine. Not yours."
Smiling around his pain and tears, Will corrected Jack, "You… didn't… abandon me."
Noticing that Will was beginning to fade, Jack decided to end the conversation. "Stop trying to make me feel better."
Before Will could respond he lost consciousness, and relative silence returned to the room.
Slowly, Jack looked away. Strange, in all the commotion and in his fear for Will's safety, he had completely forgotten about his own injuries. Carefully, he undid his dirty, white shirt so he could see the wound.
He winced as he saw the deep gash running from the base of his abdomen to his solar plexus. He almost felt nauseous as he looked upon the bloody, ragged cut. Now that he paid attention to the wound, he could feel a harsh burning accompanying it.
'Thanks Will, I needed to remember about this. I missed the pain,' he thought, unable to control his sarcasm.
Gently, he ran his hand along his stomach. It came away covered in blood. He would have to take care of it sooner or later, but he didn't feel like it at the moment, because something else was bothering him.
Why had he called Will brother? He was no longer satisfied with the answer he had given Will. Something in him had made him say that, so what had it been?
He would have to find a better answer soon, because next time, neither he nor Will would accept the answer he had just given.
'Why did I call him brother?'
Norrington was pacing across the deck of the Dauntless, fidgeting uneasily. He had two pirates on board his ship, another who may as well be one, and a child who hardly listened to a word he said. How had he gotten into this?
He heard a soft sigh and he glanced over curiously. It was Jackie, and the eight-year-old was leaning against the railing of the ship.
"Jackie?" he asked, turning to face the boy, trying not to let his eyes give away his emotions. "Are you okay?"
"No," the boy answered despondently. He stared at the Commodore, dark brown eyes hard. "Why can't I see my dad?"
"Your father's… unconscious," Norrington hedged.
"I don't care! I won't to see him!" Jackie screeched. "I was told he was dead over two months ago. I found out he was alive a week ago and I haven't seen him since then."
The Commodore's blue-green eyes flickered. "Look, he's seriously injured. Captain Sparrow is still unsure if he' going to survive. That's why Sparrow hasn't allowed you to see him."
Jackie grew silent, his brown eyes unhappy.
"Speaking of Sparrow, how has the… pirate treated you?" Norrington questioned.
"Why do you ask?" the boy asked suspiciously.
"He's a pirate. You can't trust him."
"Don't talk about Captain Sparrow like that!" Jackie said indignantly. "Captain Sparrow is my dad's best friend. I trust him and so does my father. If you or your navy try to do anything to the Captain, both my mother and father will stop you."
"If they did, they would brand themselves as pirates forever."
"Do you honestly think that will stop them? Leave Captain Sparrow alone."
Once again, the screams coming from Will were becoming increasingly difficult to listen to. Jack knew of his horrid nightmares that continued to plague his subconscious.
Every time the young blacksmith drifted into unconsciousness, or tried to sleep, the hellish memories of his imprisonment would surface, leaving him terrified beyond reason.
It had been four days since Will had reminded him of his own injuries and he finally had treated them. To be honest, the bandages bothered him, and he was tempted take them off, but he decided against it. But- the point was- he and Will combined, had probably "slept" a total of two hours.
He was exhausted, to say the least. At least Will had been unconscious most of the time, so his body had gotten enough rest for his body to begin healing process. Unfortunately, he wasn't healing fast enough in Jack's mind. He wanted his friend to be nearly healed when they reached Port Bryant; he didn't want to have to explain everything to Elizabeth.
Jack sighed. There would be no hiding the fact that something had happened. Will would have those scars for the rest of his life.
For that matter, Jackie would have his scars for the rest of his life. The deep cut through his lips and the cuts along his back had already formed into permanent scars.
Will screamed again and abruptly snapped awake. Jack wasn't surprised; it had only been a matter of time before he had woken up. "Will," he said automatically, "it's okay."
Two seconds passed as Will forced himself to focus on the reality of his waking. He was breathing heavily, despite the pain that flashed through his healing ribs. "Jack? What-?"
"You were having a nightmare," Jack interrupted. "Or rather, hellish memories." His caramel eyes met Will's dark brown ones.
Heaving a sigh, Will gently forced himself up into a sitting position. His left hand instinctively slipped up and touched first his broken shoulder then his upper arm. Jack couldn't help but notice that Will kept his hand over the bullet wound. "I feel… like shit."
Jack laughed, "I hate to tell you this, but you look like shit, too." His smile spread wider across his face.
A matching smile spread across Will's face. "In other words, I look as you always do?" he asked with a smirk.
Another laugh escaped Jack. It made him feel better to know Will was able to smile and joke again. "Funny. Very funny." When he finally stopped laughing he said quietly, "After all the screaming you've been doing, it's quite a relief to hear you laugh."
"Sorry about that," apologized Will in embarrassment. His left hand tightened on his arm. He hated not being able to control his reactions. That Jack was the one witnessing his lack of control… it was difficult for him to decide whether it was the best thing or the worst.
Jack was his best friend, so it could be worse- he knew Jack would never exploit those weaknesses. Then again, the same reason it could be okay made it horrible. The pirate was his friend and expected him to be strong, so Will felt… slightly sick, knowing that Jack had seen him at his weakest.
The Captain of the Black Pearl- assuming that it was still in one piece- couldn't help but notice the emotions flickering through Will's eyes. He was surprised to discover that it was more difficult to read his friend's emotions than it had been.
When had Will had created such strong mental defenses? Before, Will's eyes had clearly reflected all things he had felt; now though, Will's dark eyes had let almost nothing known- unless he wanted it to be known or he simply wasn't completely aware. He could still read his friend's feelings, but… it was much more difficult.
"It's okay," he finally said. His caramel eyes were soft and compassionate. "You do know that I'm never going to take advantage of your weakness, right? I would never hold this over you, or use it to blackmail you."
A small nod answered his question. "I know," he met his friend's eyes. "Don't worry, I trust you completely. It's just…"
"Don't think about it. What's happened… it doesn't affect anything. Except that maybe I think you must be the most stubborn person I've ever met. I can't think of anyone else that could have survived."
"Bullshit," Will said. "That is bullshit, Jack. You could have done it, and you wouldn't have broken as I did."
Jack almost did a double take; how had the topics shifted so quickly? He could see the despondency in Will's eyes. A few minutes ago Will had been laughing- despite the pain that had been flashing through his broken ribs- now though, he was depressed.
"What makes you think I could have survived? I couldn't defeat Blacksword- and I wasn't even injured- yet you killed him. I could never do half of what you can."
Will looked about to retort but Jack quickly interrupted him. "I've been thinking about when I called your brother, and… I may have figured out why."
Looking grateful for the change in subjects, the young blacksmith stared at him curiously.
Sighing, Jack began to explain, "I never had a family- well, not that I can remember, and what I can remember, it's not worth remembering. My mother, she died when I was five, but I didn't really miss her. She was a barmaid and barely knew I existed. My father, he didn't know I existed and my mother wasn't even sure who he was."
The look in Will's eyes almost annoyed him. He despised having people feel sorry for him; that was why he never told anyone about his past.
"Anyone, you and Elizabeth are by far the closest friends I've ever had. And you're… probably the closest thing to a family that I've ever had. Honestly, if I had to choose someone to be my brother… it'd be you. You're the only person I trust enough."
His friend had grown silent and his dark eyes had softened. His mind was reflecting upon the things that he had been told, both now and during his imprisonment. A slightly more disturbing question had surfaced in his mind. "Jack, I know you would never hurt me, and I know you would never allow anything to happen to my son, but… Elizabeth, you wouldn't…?"
"I wouldn't let her get hurt. I care about her as well," Jack answered, surprised by the question.
"That's what I'm worried about," Will said in response to Jack's lost sentence. Shock showed in Jack's eyes, along with confusion. "Jack, I know you've never had a lasting… relationship with someone. I learned that in Tortuga. But, if I died… you wouldn't…"
Minutes passed as Jack gazed in confusion at his friend. Slowly, understanding filtered into his eyes. "No!" he said sharply. "I would never do that."
A slight bit of doubt showed in Will's eyes, prompting Jack to quickly attempt to reassure his friend. "Will, I just said I almost consider you to be my brother, and I do consider you to be my best friend. I may be a pirate, but I have my honor. That would be low even for me."
Slowly, the absolute trust in Will's eyes returned. "Okay." His eyes slowly began to take on a look of exhaustion.
"You need to get some sleep," Jack said, uselessly. He pressed his lips together. He needed sleep as well, but he wouldn't say that.
Helplessness filled Will's dark brown eyes. "I wish I could, but these nightmares… these memories…"
"I know," Jack said, shaking his head. "I wish there was something we could do, but not even Miguel knows what to do. He says there's no reason for you to keep having these recurring dreams as you are. The best he could figure out was that it had something to do with the trauma of what happened and the aftereffects of the… alcohol and drugs."
"I could have told you that," Will said almost bitterly. Exhaustion showed in his eyes. Finally he asked, "How long do you think this is going to last? I would really prefer not to let Elizabeth know about everything."
Shrugging slightly, Jack responded, "If I knew that, then I wouldn't be as worried about it."
Will sighed in frustration and the room began to spin around him. He had been growing increasingly nauseous and a chill had crept into him. He had noticed that the last time he had been conscious too; it was an interesting sensation, being cold during a Caribbean summer. He shivered, unable to stop himself.
Jack eyes his friend in concern, "Will, are you okay?"
Nodding slowly, Will started to reply, "Of course. Jack, stop worr-" Abruptly, everything in his field of vision tilted and he passed out, collapsing backwards onto the small bunk he's been sitting on.
Alarmed slightly, Jack stepped forward. There had been something in Will's eyes as he had talked that had bothered him. Another small shiver escaped Will's otherwise unmoving form.
On impulse, the pirate reached forward and gently touched Will's face. The young man's skin was burning hot to the touch, but it didn't alarm Jack; instead it relieved him.
Miguel had told him that a fever would be a sign that the blacksmith was healing. A fever was the body's natural defense against infections and other such things. Will's body had been preoccupied with the mass internal injuries it had suffered, delaying the other healing processes. If Will was developing a fever, that meant the internal injuries from the stab wounds had finally healed enough to no longer be a threat to his life.
He smiled to himself; Will would be fine now. After the fever died down, the only thing that would need to be dealt with would be the bloody nightmares and his broken shoulder.
Gently, he pulled the other's hand from his arm, where it was still holding the bullet wound. Grinning a trademark drunken grin, he turned and left the room. He could finally relax; maybe now he would be able to get some sleep. 'About time something went our way.'
TBC
Ohhh, famous last words.
Anyways, I'll see you guys later!