Disclaimer: I only own the Karvers, Hampton, and the HMS Lady Rose. If I owned the others, I'd be long gone from here. Sorry, mate, but I ain't Disney.

Chapter Five:

After sending Mullroy and Murtogg off to the governor's manor with the letter, Norrington turned back to Sparrow. The black vest on his body was dishevelled and pulled back from the shirt. To his horror, he spotted something he hadn't before; a red liquid stained the side of the pirate's shirt. Genuinely worried for the injured man's health, he decided to check the extent of his wounds.

With care, the Commodore removed the pirate's vest and unbuttoned the tunic. He slid it off of his shoulders. He used one arm to hold the man's body in a sitting position as he examined him with shock, disbelief, and pity.

Sparrow's front was covered in dark bruises, the darkest of them down near his hips. Those particular bruises were hand shaped. Horror filled him at the possibility of what most likely happened to the man before him, and likely the very cause of the former captive's fear. He spotted a sword wound in the stretch of skin connecting his right shoulder and his neck.

The pirate's sides had bloody welts that resembled cat o' nine whip marks. Moving around to examine his back, Norrington wasn't surprised to find the same marks, just more in number. The welts had reduced the man's back to a bloody, raw hunk of meat. Straight down the middle, there was a cut that looked suspiciously like it had come from a sword.

Looking down the body of the unconscious form, he saw that the legs of his breeches had been pulled up. Straining his eyes in the darkness, he spotted a stab wound clear through one of the victim's legs, dried blood trailing down to cover his foot.

The Commodore looked back to Sparrow's face. Bruises littered his forehead and cheeks. A stab wound punctured completely through a section of the left cheek. If he looked hard enough, he'd probably be able to see inside the man's mouth. And then there was the left eye. It'd been clouded when open, causing more than a little concern in the Navy man. If he didn't know any better, he'd say the injured man was blind in that eye, especially considering how he'd been tilting the right side of his face toward him.

Overall, the once optimistic pirate's frame was bruised and bloodied beyond recognition, not to mention extremely skinny- his ribs were visible through the skin, a disgusting sight considering at least two of them were broken now. The hands and wrists were bruised too, probably handled roughly as the pirate had attempted to defend himself.

Norrington lifted the unconscious Sparrow up, holding him gently yet firmly, as dropping him would do him no good. He carried him into the fort, entering the room beside his office- a storage room. He rested him on an elaborate wooden table, more concerned about the injured man's health than ruining a table with his blood. He turned to search the room for spare bandages- and other medical supplies that'd help.

A low, pained moan cut through the air from where the pirate lay. The Commodore glanced back at him, nearly surprised to see the other man looking back at him, a fearful curiosity in his gaze.

*X*

"Are you alright?" Norrington asked quietly.

Jack shrugged his good shoulder, back wincing painfully soon after. He could feel the almost smooth surface of the table below him. I see you've taken a look at my more obvious injuries...Where are we anyway?

"Do you want something to write on?"

He shrugged again, regretting it immediately. I don't care.

"Well, just in case you do…" The Navy man trailed off as he grabbed a writing pad, a quill, and a small bottle of ink. He handed them over to him.

"Where are we and why are we here?" He needed to get things figured out inside his head.

"We're in the storage room next to my office." The Commodore explained. "As to why we're here, I'm looking for bandages."

"Whatever for?"

"Sparrow, have you not seen your back?"

Jack decided to settle on an attempt of humor. "Yes, I definitely have eyes on the back of my head."

"Sparrow." Norrington's voice was firm with disapproval.

The Pearl's captain shrank back slightly, nervously. "Sorry. Not funny. No, I have not seen my back. You clearly have, though I thought I told you to wait."

"You did."

"Then why did you look?"

"There comes a time when someone's health is more important than what they want." The Commodore answered. "Besides, a kick to the back shouldn't knock someone unconscious."

Jack frowned. "Well, it did me."

"How much did they whip you?" He asked.

His eye became haunted and his torso shuddered. He didn't write anything for a long moment. "Enough to leave my back numb and me laying in a puddle of my own blood each time they finished. Once every day, with a cat o' nine and a steel pipe."

"They beat you with a pipe?"

He nodded solemnly.

"Bastards."

The pair of men lapsed into a long silence. Norrington turned back to searching through everything in the room for the bandages. Jack remained still, admiring the luxurious items around the room to keep his mind from the painful memories of the voyage.

"Sparrow." The Commodore had found the bandages. "Can you get up for me?"

The pirate nodded, weakly pulling himself from the table. His legs trembled under his weight and he grabbed the table for support. The bandages were wrapped around his torso the best they could be, tight enough so that the pressure would keep the wounds from bleeding.

"Suppose you should lock me up for the night then?" Jack wrote.

"I suppose so." Norrington replied, sounding regretful. "Tomorrow you'll be moved to the governor's mansion. You should be more comfortable there."

"So I hope."

He grabbed the pad and writing materials, following the naval officer out of the storage room and down the stone halls to some stairs. They descended them, several flights, to the prison level. It was quiet, giving away that there were no prisoners as of current.

Norrington stopped at one cell in particular. Jack recognized it as the one he'd been in after his duel with Will Turner. His companion unlocked it and moved aside to let him in. After the pirate entered, it was locked behind him.

"I hope you understand that this is more for your safety than anyone else's." The Commodore said quietly.

The Pearl's captain nodded. He understood completely.

"In that case, I'll quickly fetch you something to eat and some water." He promised.

"Not rum? It'd take the edge off the pain."

"I'm afraid we don't have any here, Sparrow." Norrington responded. "You'll have to make do for the time being."

Jack sighed, sitting down on the hay covered stone floor, placing his writing materials beside him. He watched the other man walk off to retrieve what he'd promised. Rum really would be nice right about now.

He was snapped back to reality at the sound of footsteps on the stone floor. There was no way Norrington could be back so soon. Fearing for his life, he scrambled to the back of the cell, in a shadowed corner. He brought his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs. His heartbeat was in his throat, pounding so hard he was sure it'd tear right through.

He let out an audible sigh of relief as a familiar young face peered at him through the bars. It was Elizabeth Swann.

"Jack?" She asked softly, recognizing him.

The injured pirate captain nodded at her. It's me. It's me.

"What happened to you?"

He reached for his writing pad. "Too much."

"What are you doing here at this hour?" Norrington's voice came as he returned.

"I came to see Jack. I was worried." Elizabeth answered. "My father showed me your letter."

"Well, Mr. Sparrow will survive the night, I believe." He told her. "Though you're free to stay with him as long as you wish."

"Thank you, James." She said gratefully.

The Commodore nodded, turning back to Jack. He held a canteen of water and an apple through the bars of the cell. "Here you are, Sparrow."

Still on the ground, the pirate crept forward and took the canteen before retreating back. He opened it, drinking the water greedily. He felt the eyes of the others on him and turned back to them with a raised eyebrow.

"Did they feed you at all?" Norrington inquired.

The pirate's brow furrowed in slight confusion, but he nodded.

"Did you actually eat any of it?"

Jack's eyes flickered back to the apple with realization, yet he forced himself to shake his head.

"They cut your tongue, didn't they? That's why you won't speak." It was more of a statement than a question. "You're starving yourself."

The pirate froze, the memory of the moment it happened resurfacing.

The knife was thrust between his teeth, catching on the flesh of his tongue. He felt it tear, pain flying through him. Then the weapon slipped and tore a hole through his cheek.

When Hampton got off of him, he turned over, spitting out a mouthful of streaming blood, a chunk of flesh coming out with it. That's when it dawned on him.

Jack finally nodded. He remembered when he'd tried to ask Hampton what he did; how no words had come. He wondered what would happen if he tried now. He opened his mouth to give it a try.

"More or less."

The words were extremely distorted, edged with the pain he felt in his tongue as it touched the roof of his mouth. He winced, both at the pain and the sound of his own voice.

He briefly glanced at Elizabeth and Norrington, catching them exchange glances of horror. He looked to the canteen, turning it in his hands self consciously.

"Well, that certainly complicates things." The Commodore finally murmured.

Jack couldn't help but agree, giving a small nod. Aye, it does.

"Elizabeth,"Norrington turned to her,"Can you return to your manor and see if you can find anything he may be able to eat?"

She nodded. "I'll see what I can find. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Elizabeth vanished from the pirate's sight as she left, her footsteps echoing as she went down the hall.

"Is there anything else you need, Sparrow?" The naval man asked.

Yeah, to forget everything that happened on that cursed vessel. Jack shook his head.

"Very well." The Commodore turned to leave. "I'll wait for Elizabeth to return. I highly suggest that you try to get some rest."

He nodded to show he'd heard.

Norrington vanished from sight after Elizabeth, leaving him alone in his cell.