Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all associated characters belong to their respective owners. I just play and give back. All I can lay claim to are the OC's in this story – and not even them. They own themselves, alright? I guess I come out with nada. Sadly.

Author's Note: Wow…I think this may be the quickest I've posted a chapter consecutively. Maybe not. I dunno. Anywhosits, I'm sorry that, like, nothing is happening in these first chapters, but I just need to get the story going. But I am incredibly grateful to see some familiar – and even unfamiliar, whoot! – names on the reviews page. Also – and this is going against everything D.F. ( my communications teacher ) is teaching us, but I must make an excuse – please excuse anything you find wrong with the, uh, other language. I dropped said language for a reason. Once again, sorry. Okay, shutting up…

Chapter 2 – Secrets Revealed?

"'Ey Jack. Jack!" Hazy brown eyes slowly raised and glared at the tall sailor who had addressed their owner. The tall man walked briskly over to where the youth was hidden, crouched between two barrels in the hold.

"S'Cap'n," the boy snarled with a shuddering exhalation of breath. The elder man noticed, as he moved closer, that Jack was pinning his left arm tightly to his side with his right hand. But even injured, the young pirate was nothing to be trifled with.

Bootstrap kneeled down in front of Jack and searched the wary brown gaze with his own. With years of experience with the young pirate captain, Bill knew what he was looking for and he quickly found it in those chocolaty depths. Jack may be very good at masking his emotions, but he had a long way to go in order to fool Bill. "C'mon outta there lad. Let's 'ave a look at yer arm, eh?" Bootstrap slowly reached out to Jack, never breaking their eye contact.

Jack started back when Bill's fingers brushed his good arm and snarled. "No," he managed through clenched teeth as his left arm bumped against one of the barrels, sending pain flaring through his small body.

"Jack, c'mon, this is no time t' be fooling 'round!"

"'M no' foolin'," Jack objected.

"Jack, come on, she's taking on water fast. The Pearl scored a hit right below her waterline; we 'ave t' go!" Bill persisted, reaching further into Jack's hiding space which only resulted in the youth inching further back. Bootstrap forced himself to keep his cool, though why Jack was being so bloody childish at a time like this was beyond him. The boy was seventeen for cryin' out loud!

Jack continued scurrying back until his back touched the hull, stopping him. When Bill stretched in to reach him, Jack whimpered and turned, placing his left side against the hull.

"Jack!"

The boy drew away from the shout, slamming his arm and rib cage roughly into the ship's hull. Pain raced through his chest, making breathing difficult. The world grew increasingly dark and he barely felt himself slip limply down the hull to lie in a heap on the floor.

"Jack?" Bootstrap inquired gently, looking the boy over worriedly. When Jack didn't respond, he grabbed the nearest barrel and shoved it aside with some effort, clearing a path from him to his unconscious friend.

The ship's beams creaked ominously and the rush of moving water suddenly became deafening.

Bill reached forward and grabbed Jack's right arm, dragging him in an unintentionally rough manner from between many barrels. As soon as Jack's body was clear of the barrels, Bootstrap hefted the boy's limp weight into his arms and stood.

As Bootstrap began a light jog up the narrow stairs, Jack's eyes opened for a moment. Through his pain-blurred vision he saw his friend and father figure and felt a wave of comfort sweep over him. His eyes fell shut once more.

"Cap'n!"

One chocolaty hazel eye cracked open and glanced at the stern of the small boat. Slight irritation entered Jack's demeanor and he slowly levered his back off the boat's hull. He peered across the water to the beach situated just in front of the large manor he and his crew had assembled over the years and his gaze fixed on Gibbs, who in turn was looking at him expectantly.

"Ah, 'ello Mister Gibbs," Jack called in greeting, squinting against the penetrating sun. He belatedly regretted not having reapplied the kohl that normally encircled his eyes.

"Sorry t' wake you, Cap'n, but the boy-"

"Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs, 'ave you learned nothin'? Y'know I don't sleep on th' job, aye?" Jack interrupted, closing his eyes and laying back in the boat. He placed his shirt, that had been serving as a pillow, beside him and rested his hands behind his head.

Gibbs smiled wryly. "I'll choose t' ignore the sunburn you've developed, then Cap'n."

"Aye, you do tha'. I'll be in," he winced as he sat up quickly and placed his hands on the oars, "in a moment."

"Aye Cap'n." Gibbs answered with a wide grin.

Jack sighed and carefully moved the oars forward and dipped them into the water. He winced when he drew back and felt the sting of his newly acquired sunburn. Forcing the pain to the back of his mind, he moved into the familiar, fluid rowing motion and propelled the small boat toward the shore.

Gibbs met the boat at the waterline and helped his captain pull it farther up onto the sand. He noted that Jack had called upon his uncanny ability to hide pain and was, as always, amazed. He smiled to himself and shook his head, chuckling slightly. "Tough as a rock, eh Jack?"

Jack met his quartermaster's gaze with a playful light dancing in his eyes. "Tougher, Gibbs. Tougher. Now's where's the boy?"

ZzZzZzZzZzZ

The pirate captain paused in the doorway and inhaled the breeze traveling through the open window deeply. When he opened his eyes they were focused on the horizon, of which the hall window provided an excellent view. His dark lady stood moored in the small harbor, sails furled, and bobbed gently on the tide. Even without direct contact with her, Jack took comfort in her gentle movements. He knew she would wait for him until the end of time if need be…

It would not be until the end of time, but a few extra days at least, depending upon the boy's health.

Jack started at a clattering sound from across the room. He pushed himself away from the doorframe and all the way into the room, fixing his gaze on the dark-haired youth. An upturned tray of half-eaten breakfast foods rested on the floor.

"Quién…dónde…"

Jack held up a hand, silencing the wide-eyed youth who had pinned himself in the corner at the head of his bed. With his hand up in a commanding gesture, Jack took a moment to study the boy. He had dark hair—almost black—and his eyes were pale green. Scraps of black, red, and white silk garments still hung from his lean frame and he looked to be just under twenty.

Jack grinned and plastered a diplomatic expression on his face. "Hola. ¿Como se llama?"

The youth blinked and relaxed at the familiar sound of his own language. "Hola señor. Me llamo Kole."

Jack's grin disappeared instantly and he regarded the boy quizzically. "¿Habla inglés?" The boy nodded. "Thought so," Jack said with a satisfied grin. "No offense, but 'Kole' is not a very Spanish name, mate. There a last name that goes wi' that?"

"Booke."

"Ah," Jack breathed. "I'm not familiar wit' that name. You fresh to the seas, boy?"

"Fairly, I will admit."

Jack nodded and crossed his arms, allowing silence to settle somewhat awkwardly in the room. Kole shifted nervously and took the opportunity to look Jack over warily. Jack accepted the scrutiny in silence and leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes.

"Excuse me, sir,"

Jack opened one eye lazily. "Aye?"

"Where are we…exactly?"

Jack grinned. "Ah, now that's a secret." Kole's brow furrowed and Jack sighed. "Suffice it t' say that we're in a manor, on an island, in the Bahamas, in the Caribbean, savvy?"

"Yes, I…savvy…" Kole said slowly, turning the elder's words over in his mind curiously.

"My crew found you washed up on the beach, boy. May I ask what happened t' yer ship and her crew?" Kole lowered his eyes and fixed his gaze on the blankets. His shoulders sagged wearily and he sighed but did not answer. Jack crossed one ankle over the other, still leaning against the wall, and waited in silence.

"She…they're gone." Kole's whispered answer was barely audible.

"Sorry t' hear that. What was her name?"

"The Honest Shyster."

Jack quickly suppressed a chuckle. "Interesting name; very articulate. She sounds like a real handful. Definitely not Navy. But still, the name is a strange one fer a merchant. Unless…" Kole's intense green eyes focused on Jack and bored into him, daring the elder man to finish his sentence. "Out of curiosity, what flag did she sail under?"

"Who are you, sir?" Kole asked quickly, changing the subject to a less intrusive one. "You now know quite a bit about me and I still do not know your name."

One corner of Jack's mouth tipped up in a grin, showing the glint of a single gold tooth. "Don't ye know already, mate?" Kole regarded him quizzically. Jack sighed and pushed himself away from the wall, taking a few steps so he was standing in the center of the room. "Captain Jack Sparrow, at your service." He bowed awkwardly, swaying on his feet with his arms extended to help him balance. When he retuned his gaze to the young man he was met by a purely amused expression. "What?"

"You are Captain Jack Sparrow?"

"Yes…and you can't use the excuse that you've never 'eard of me – you obviously have."

"I'm sorry sir but I think you're playing me for a fool. The Jack Sparrow I've heard of is much more dangerous and…eccentric."

"Danger—eccentric?" Jack repeated in a whisper, looking down at himself with a frown. He belatedly realized that he had left his effects and a vast majority of the trinkets that usually adorned his hair in his room. All that was left was a small strand of beads at the back of his skull. He wasn't even wearing his bandana or kohl. "I suppose by looks I'm not," Jack conceded, "but trust me mate, I am-"

"Cap'n,"

Jack shot an annoyed look over his shoulder at Gibbs who had just stepped into the room. "Ah, Gibbs, welcome. Kole Booke, this is Joshamee Gibbs, quartermaster aboard the Black Peawrl. Excuse us for a moment, won't you Master Booke?" Jack turned to face Gibbs and led him back out into the hall, partially closing the door behind them. "Now Gibbs, what's all this?"

"Sorry to interrupt Cap'n, but they requested to see you."

Jack brought his hand to his mouth and let it slide down his chin thoughtfully. "Right," he said absently. "Oyi, with all this commotion with the whelp an' all I completely forgot. Thanks Josh." Jack clapped Gibbs on the shoulder and began jogging down the hall.

"What shall I do with Booke, Cap'n?"

"Anything but get 'im drunk. He's a little young yet."