Title: Place of Origin
Author: Bunny W.
Fandom: PotC
Characters: Pintel, Ragetti, Ragetti's Mother
Pairing: None really
Warnings: Pintel and Ragetti family love.
A/N: Even though I am a total Moog-girl, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to try writing a fan fiction using the idea that Crook and Arenberg have developed to play their characters. I would be totally devastated if it became canon, but after writing this I've decided they can still be super cute, and it works; just not sexually. If that makes any sense, yay. If not, well, give it a try anyway.
Summary: Dear Brother, the world is becoming a place where love is harder to find. So when he, for the first time, lets his eyes well up with tears and lets his voice tremble when he says "I love you," do not push him aside. He is after-all, young and lonesome. Instead, let this be that place where you return to, always, to find peace. Let this be the beginning. Let this be your point of origin.
Place of Origin
Picture a quiet shack, dismantled by men who cared neither for the people, nor for the poverty that resided in it. The rest of the small town is in much the same shape. Voices, crying over the sounds of fires burning lives to the foundations, can be heard for miles into the night. They drown out the sounds of the evening tide. People running around searching for loved ones are too frantic to check the bodies between their feet.
One young man approaches the shack, his gut falling from his body when he sees the door, lying on its hinges near by. A soft glow is reaching him from somewhere inside the home. His short legs race him through the threshold and to the body, like the door, lying heavily broken upon the floor. She is very still and he knows this stillness well.
Dear Brother,
I can see you now, neck deep in you troubles. You feel every responsibility is on your shoulders. So much misery has occurred and it's still so fresh on the mind. You worry so much that I fear you might lose your hair before you reach thirty. Or worse, you may worry yourself to death. Then who would care for Ragetti?
From somewhere beneath her there is the sound of crying.
Pintel knew this voice well. Only yesterday he had heard that same wail, not in torment, but in high pitched giggles. He recalled the moment in which his nephew, Ragetti, had first looked him in the eyes and laughed with delight. The boy had been given to him to care for, letting his sister get some well deserved relaxation, and he took Ragetti to the beach, where the bonfires were blazing and the small men of musical talent were heard singing all along the shores. Beneath the stars and over the sands he let the child drag him, laughing and pointing with each step. Ragetti danced upon Pintel's shoes, squealing gleefully up at the night sky. Though his uncle was young, because of life, he was already a hardened man, and no other person in the world could seem to melt his heart the same way.
And don't think to run away just because you think you're not ready. I was even younger when I birthed Ragetti, and listen when I tell you he's easy to handle. He only requires one thing, and that's your love. The love of the only person his has left. I promise it is all he'll ask from you.
As Pintel carefully removed his own sister's body from the child, Ragetti began to scream louder and clutch to his clothing. The older boy felt the clenching in his heart with every clench of the child's fists in his shirt. For a moment he thought to flee, leaving Ragetti there for someone else to find. Someone would eventually come by and find him, and they would find somewhere for him to go. Otherwise this was now the responsibility of Pintel.
And you need that love, too, Pintel. Don't you remember the way you felt when he said those words to you? For the first time he looked you in the eyes, remember how blue they were, and told you exactly what was on that wild mind? Remember these things, and tell me your stomach didn't tighten with gaiety, and that your heart didn't flutter into almost out of your chest!
While he tried to pull the toddler away from him Pintel was suddenly struck by the memory of last night. Once Ragetti was sufficiently tired out, he carried the boy back to the shack and began to tuck him in bed. His mother was sitting at the kitchen table reading a book. The same book she had been reading since they were allowed schooling. Pintel recalled smiling at her determination. But while he was distracted, two thin arms snaked around his unsuspecting neck. The boy had lifted himself from the sheets and planted a kiss on his cheek.
Pintel turned in time to see Ragetti crawling back underneath the covers. And he could hear his sister laughing with delight at the blush running over his own features. Then Ragetti, now comfortable, looked straight into the depths of his eyes and whispered, "I lurves, Uncle Pin'el…" And the heat of that blush raced directly into his chest, causing his heart to flutter, and his stomach to tighten with gaiety he had never felt for a pet, woman, or other being. He realized then that this was the moment of definition in his life.
And in remembering this moment, Pintel picked Ragetti's weak form up from the ground and walked out into the evening, fires still blazing and turning the sky into a dusty red hue. It was as if the young man had restarted his life and new exactly where to turn from there.
No longer will either of you have to endure loneliness. Take note of how his eyes are sparkling tonight, and every other night, only for you. No matter what storms you are thrown into the compass needle will always point you back to that moment. When you are lost, return here, and start again.