Will tore down the path that wound itself through a rocky outcropping, anger fueling the muscles carrying him on his legs. When he had first realized what Jack had done, when he had first saw the pirate's writing on the parchment—he had been angry. While he had sped up the hill, sweating and breathing hard, he had been furious. When he thought about his friend fooling him and using his family as means to do so, he had been beyond any degree of anger.
He flew over the last bit of path and pounded down the dock, not surprised to see the big black ship floating far off at the mouth of the cove that fed into the sea. The sight of the ship he had wished to see only hours earlier fueled the fire that burnt in his stomach.
He had been a fool to worry about Jack Sparrow, for Jack Sparrow was and always would be a bloody scallywag.
The rowboat tied to the end of the dock he leapt into, and glaring fiercely at the ship, he rowed toward it.
--- --- --- ------- () ------- --- --- ---
As it happened, Little Lucy had quite a big set of lungs. She'd wailed while Jack Sparrow had rowed them out to the Black Pearl and she'd wailed while the boat was hoisted. As the wincing pirate clambered to climb out of the boat and on deck, Little Lucy wailed and clung to Jack's faded coat.
"Make her stop!" Young Jack folded his arms. "She's gonna pop Uncle Jack's ears!"
"No," Elizabeth said. She lifted her chin and stepped as gracefully out of the boat as she could, glaring at the grinning Mister Gibbs as he came forward to take her arm. "I don't think I should."
Jack glowered at her, and then turned a gentler face down to the little girl. "Lucy, love, don't you remember your Uncle Jack? Come now darling, don't you cry. We're far from the water, you see?" Touching her nose, he flourished his hand out over the railing of the ship they stood behind. "See that?"
Miraculously, silence reigned.
"Praise the Good Lord," Jack Turner crowed, carefully avoiding the glare that his mother sent his way. "It's about time!"
Jack Sparrow was surprised that he did not hear choirs of angels' voices singing 'hallelujah' or note the appearance of a multitude of heavenly hosts. Relieved, he smiled down at her little head. "That's right, love. The sea is there, but Uncle Jack's got you. The Black Pearl will protect you."
"The sea," Lucy whispered, biting her little bottom lip, eyes welling up with tears.
"Don't you worry little love," he said, letting her pick up the beaded lock that was her favorite, "you're safe. I won't let the water get you, Lucy. I promise."
"Don't you prom—"
"Elizabeth," he smiled at her, nodding at Gibbs, "perhaps you would enjoy freed wrists?"
"Right now," she grit out, "I would enjoy them immensely, I daresay."
Jack frowned and shook his head at Gibbs. "Later it is!"
--- --- --- ------- () ------- --- --- ---
Will didn't bother slowing the boat as it neared the ship. In fact he pushed the last row of the oars with great force, sending the craft's bow smacking into the hull of the Black Pearl. Hearing the unmistakable stagger of boots above, he leapt to his feet. When Jack's head finally appeared above, Will snarled and drew his sword.
Jack glared down at the hull of his ship and then at the blacksmith. "You put a dent in her!"
"Yes! And I will do it again," Will promised, "if you do not return my family to me into this boat right now."
"You put a dent—in my ship!" Jack pointed at the ding that was nearly imperceptible to even the closer eye of Will. He growled and shook a finger at the blade-bearing Turner. "You put another dent in that hull, boy, and I'll set sail without you and teach this family of yours what trouble really means!"
At first, the warning struck at Will's heart, but then his eyes narrowed on the pirate. "You wouldn't let harm come to any one hair on their heads."
"No," Jack agreed, tossing his mane in the breeze, "you're right, I wouldn't." He ducked down, disappearing from view. When he stood up he smiled down at Will. "But I would sink that little boat of yours." Hands coming apart, the pirate dropped cannon shot.
Will watched, helplessly, as the heavy iron ball plunked right through the wood.
"Now," Jack said, "I'll make this simple for you, Will Turner. With that wee vessel already filling with water it seems you have yourself a little dilemma. You can either swim to shore or come aboard. Which'll it be?"
Jaw clenched, Will sheathed his sword. Scaling the ship did not seem difficult, though in fact, he was not sure he would have noticed if it were. For all of the anger tensing the back of his neck and burning his gut was an effective distraction. The only part of the climb he noticed was when his hands grasped railing, but it was only for a second. Then, carried swiftly over in a leap fueled by his fury, it was gone, and his sword was hissing from its scabbard and pricking a pinpoint of blood from Jack Sparrow's throat.
The pirate sighed.
"Unhand my family!"
Jack rolled his eyes and reached up to push the sword away.
"This is no game to me, Pirate," Will growled. Paying no heed to the many advancing men of Jack's crew, he stood his ground. Angry at the blatant disregard the man he'd considered friend had shown him, he jabbed the blade forward, the sharp tip tearing a tiny but threatening cut in the pirate's skin.
In the same beat, Sparrow's face changed. The half-mad, slightly amused dynamics fell away and in their wake slid a sheet of impenetrable ice. Laughing dark eyes lost their luster and narrowed dangerously as the smirk gave way to a terse jaw. In the blink of an eye, the sword was knocked clear away and the pirate had clenched in his hands the fabric of Will's shirt. When he dragged him close, he was silent save for the slight whisper of hot, angry breath escaping his lips.
The sound boiled Will's blood.
"Happy Birthday," Jack growled, "to you." And, hurling him away, he spun on his heel, stalked in silence to captain's quarters, and slammed the doors shut. The locking beam engaged with a loud snap from within, and then the furious tap of boots faded away into the distance.
Guilt flooded Will's anger.
"Nice one, William Turner," spat Anamaria, smacking him in the head and stalking off into the crowd of men.
Flushing under the accusatory gaze of the pirates, he turned to his wife. Hands to the sides of her face, Elizabeth's surprise seemed as great as his shame. When their eyes met, hers softened with sympathy, and his steps toward her heavied with the weight of guilt settling over him. He sighed and allowed her to fold him in her arms.
"Oh Will," she breathed, "In a week's time... I can't believe I forgot, but I did."
"We have been so busy that it did not cross my mind," he told her, closing his eyes. "And now I've crossed Jack."
"I believe we have both insulted Jack Sparrow today." Her voice turned acrid. "Though I have to say that perhaps he deserved it for this unecessary madness. Really, is it so difficult to celebrate a birthday with a simple cake and song?"
"Well," he sighed, "I came to the conclusion long ago that nothing is simple with Captain Jack Sparrow." He pulled back with a frown. "Where are the children?" He asked Elizabeth, followed her cautious gaze, turning to find his scowling son behind him. "Jack," he began, reaching for the boy. But his son ran off. Little Lucy, who had been hiding behind the boy, gaped up at him. When he reached for her, she squeaked and scurried off to hide behind the barely taller pirate called Marty. Will's shoulders sagged. "It was a mistake."
"Aye," Mister Gibbs agreed, "that it was. Jack and Jack'll come around, lad. Just ye give em time." Clapping him on the back with a too exuberant reassurance, the bright-eyed sailor turned to address the crew. "What ye waitin for? Weigh her up and put her to the east like Jack wanted!"
