Disclaimer: I am not Gore Verbinski or Jerry Bruckheimer, nor do I have any relation to Disney other than being a simple fan- like the rest of you. No, I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean. I only own the following OCs: Jacob Karver, Stiles Karver, Wilford Hampton, John Porter, and the ship the HMS Lady Rose.

A/N: I apologize for the writer's block. It's just, in my five month long quarantine, I had to find other things to do as well. That and my dog passed on March 17. And then my kitten had to be put down on August 30. 2020's been a rough year. Anyhow, really happy to get this chapter up. I'm still dedicated to finish this story eventually.

Also, though I don't take requests, feel free to give me one-shot ideas.

Chapter 9:

The world slowly came back into focus. Jack moaned, pain filling his chest. He shifted, starting to sit up, but the movement only intensified the pain. He slumped back to the bed with a grunt.

"Cap'n?" Someone asked warily.

The pirate captain twisted- causing agony in his torso- to see who was talking to him. He recognized who it was on sight and his brow furrowed in confusion. "Gibbs?" He examined his surroundings, recognizing the room to be his cabin aboard the Black Pearl. He relaxed. "Ah, the Pearl…"

"Aye." His first mate told him. "We arrived jus' as the other ship retreated."

He got away. And he wouldn't have if it weren't for bloody stupid Will. He frowned in annoyance.

"The Commodore filled me in." Gibbs explained.

"What'd he tell ye? All o' it?" Jack asked quietly, words slurring.

The older man was silent for a moment, probably interpreting what he'd said. Finally, he answered. "Aye, Cap'n. All o' it."

The other man's head lowered shamefully.

"I don't think any different of ye, Jack." His first mate tried to reassure him. "An' if any o' the crew has half a mind, they won't speak 'gainst ye either."

I know. The pirate nodded thoughtfully, a quiet half-joking "I'm gonna kill William" escaping him.

Gibbs smiled softly at the remark, shaking his head. "Sure ye will."

Jack forced himself into a sitting position, gritting his teeth against the pain in his ribs and back. He swung his feet over the side of the bed and got up. He slipped on a pair of his own boots- not ones borrowed from Norrington's men- and pulled a shirt over his shoulders. His last one must've been taken off to examine his ribs after Will unintentionally knocked him out. He put on the rest of his effects, weapons and hat too, stopping at his desk.

"So what's new on the medical bill then?" He wrote it on a scrap of parchment, knowing none of it would make sense had he attempted to actually say it.

"Your ribs are worse." His first mate replied.

Well, duh. He raised an eyebrow. Tell me something new, mate.

"One o' 'em punctured a lung."

"Really?"

"Aye." Gibbs nodded. "They had to operate on ye."

Jack's hand went up to the exposed part of his chest, feeling for stitches. He found them and traced them for a moment, frowning. That explains why I couldn't breathe. And the blood. Maybe I will kill Turner. He didn't mean it.

"Tell me they at least saved the lung."

"They did, Cap'n." The older man assured him.

"Good." He grunted. Norrington's got me one bloody good doctor.

The Pearl's captain limped toward the door of his cabin.

"Jack?"

"Aye?" He shot the other man a quizzical look.

"Ye alright?" Gibbs asked, concerned.

Jack shrugged. "Nothin' some rum won't fix."

*X*

Elizabeth watched from the portside railing of the Dauntless as Jack emerged onto the Black Pearl's deck, rum bottle in hand and Gibbs not far behind. He was dressed as he normally would be, trying to keep his head up and acting like nothing had happened. His men called greetings to him from their stations, but he ignored them. He simply made his way to the helm of his ship, gripping the wood of the wheel in one hand as he took a swig of his drink.

She smiled softly at his attempt to act like himself. A voice from behind startled her.

"Do you fancy him, Elizabeth?" It was her father.

"Is it obvious?" She asked back, unable to lie to him.

He smiled fondly, coming to stand beside her. "Sometimes."

"Yes." She finally said, hiding a blush. "I know you're not fond of pirates, but I really do care for him."

"Mr. Sparrow's alright, for a pirate." The governor gave his approval. "He needs you to be there for him, you know."

"I know." Elizabeth assured him. "Thank you for understanding, Father."

"Whatever makes you happy, my dear." Her father replied.

Father and daughter silently watched the pirate captain. He seemed rather calm from afar, but Elizabeth knew otherwise. Jack Sparrow never stood that still unless something was bothering him. A shout came from behind him, making him jump and turn to glare at two of his men, who were arguing. They apologized and headed down to the main deck. His eyes followed them the whole way.

"How long do you think it'll take him to recover?" Elizabeth wondered aloud.

"He may never fully recover. Most don't after something like this." Governor Swann pointed out.

"He has improved." Commodore Norrington told them as he approached. "When he first arrived in my office, he didn't want anything to do with me. He seemed ready to give up. Just the name of Captain Hampton made him slip into memories of his voyage to Port Royal. But, during the battle with the Lady Rose, he disobeyed my orders out of anger and his desire for vengeance. I don't think he'll fully recover, however, in time, he'll be alright. Sparrow's spirit is strong, he's bound to bounce back most of the way, however long it takes."

The governor's daughter had to smile. And James wanted to see Jack swing from the gallows just a few months ago…

*X*

"Cap'n!" A shout came from the crow's nest of the Pearl.

Jack's head snapped up in the direction of the sound. He spotted Marty, who was pointing out beyond the bow of the ship. The captain slowly pulled out his spyglass, peering through it in the course of the other man's arm. He grimaced at what he saw.

Dark gray and black clouds were gathered not too far away. He could just make out rain falling and could hear the crackling of thunder. The sea began to grow choppy beneath the two vessels. It was a storm. He couldn't see a way to avoid it. And I just woke up.

"Master Gibbs!" Jack called.

The first mate raced up to the helm. "Orders, sir?"

"Secure the cannons. Move anythin' else below. The crew too." He commanded, his voice surprisingly coherent with so many words. "Signal the Dauntless an' fetch me a rope."

"Aye, Cap'n." Gibbs hurried to the starboard rail and shouted over to the other ship. "STORM AHEAD!"

The pirate captain flinched.

"YOU DON'T DESERVE TO LIVE!" Hampton screamed at him on the second day of the voyage.

"Not so loud." He snapped at the older man, who made his way down the stairs to the main deck.

"Sorry, Jack." Gibbs apologized, keeping his voice a level lower as he relayed orders to the crew. "Secure the cannons! Move the rest below!"

The first mate disappeared below deck for a long moment. When he came up, he held a cut length of rope. He climbed up the stairs to hand it to Jack.

"Ye're sure, Jack? I can do it if ye want." He offered.

"Ye did it last time, mate. 'S my turn." Jack told him, taking the rope, handing him his rum bottle and hat in replacement. "Go below deck with the rest o' the crew when they're ready."

"Aye, Cap'n." Gibbs nodded obediently, turning to go down and assist in the preparations. "May Lady Luck be with ye."

"I'll need 'er." He agreed.

His first mate continued down the stairs. The pirate captain wrapped the rope around his waist rather tightly- which he regretted as soon as it pushed on his bruises- and tied it off. He tied the other end to the wheel itself. The storm wasn't going to pull him overboard, but he'd definitely have some more bruises and some rope burns. He was sure of that.

He turned to look back at the Dauntless. Neither the Swanns, the Karvers, or Turner remained in sight. Gone in to avoid the storm, he knew. He could see Norrington's men working furiously to move cargo below deck and tighten down everything that needed tightening. One of the men- he recognized him as Lieutenant Groves- had tied himself to the wheel of the grander ship. The pirate found it slightly amusing that by the time the storm was up, that uniform wouldn't look so nice and spiffy.

*X*

Jack grunted as he hit the slippery wet planking of the deck below him for what left like the hundredth time. He really should've cut the rope shorter before they'd entered the thunderstorm. At least it was short enough so that he wouldn't be carried over the ship's railing. The rope burns that he'd sustained made his bruised waist sting. His ribs pounded, begging him to take a break. But he got up again anyway; he had to.

He gripped the Pearl's wheel tightly, turning the ship alongside the Dauntless as they turned to ride up a wave. The two ships pitched violently, but continued onwards. He glanced to Groves, smirking to himself as he saw the man's sopping wet uniform.

The dark Caribbean sky flashed as a lightning bolt formed. The top of the Pearl's mainmast lit up orange, a loud resounding crack echoing through the air. The fire quickly spread to the sails and Jack grew worried.

And then Gibbs's head popped up from below deck. The first mate spotted the flames, glancing back to his captain in horror. "Orders, sir?!"

"Get some men up there!" He called back, readjusting his grip on the wooden spokes of the wheel.

The older man disappeared below deck again and moments later, four other men climbed out onto the wet wooden planks. They darted for the rigging, beginning to climb up as fast as they could.

Jack could see some of Norrington's men working to reinforce the Dauntless's bowsprit and reattach the foresails. As the ships turned into another wave, he could see a couple men go over the other ship's railing with cries of alarm.

Another bolt of lightning lit up the sky and the pirate captain faintly heard a scream as a disoriented sailor fell off the mast. He flinched backward when he saw a body slam to the deck, the splat of flesh and crunch of bones audible over the noise of the storm.

Jack shouldn't have been so horrified; accidents like this happened all the time on ships- he'd even witnessed similar situations several times. But this time was different. The scene reminded him of the torture chamber aboard the Lady Rose; the blood and the bones.

He stumbled back from the wheel, forgetting he was tied to it. It began spinning on its own accord, spokes tearing through the air and striking his hands painfully as they passed. He realized what was happening too late; that the ship was turning with the wave. He was thrown sideways as water swamped the deck. He lost his footing. His head hit the deck rather forcefully and he squeezed his eyes shut in agony. To his distress, the image of Hampton appeared before him.

Jack's eyes snapped open, his brain scrambled in blind panic. His chest heaved, his memories were brought before his eyes. On the empty deck, he was reliving the first loss against Hampton's crew, when he'd been captured. The body that had fallen from the rigging had been washed overboard, leaving a dark stain in the planks of the deck.

Feeling trapped by the rope around his waist, the pirate captain clawed at it, trying to free himself. But as the Pearl pitched with the waves and water constantly flooded the deck, all he accomplished was getting the rope to skim painfully against his hands and jerked around as the ship moved.

Suddenly Gibbs was at his side. The older man- Jack's childhood mentor- put a hand on his shoulder to steady him. He gently moved the distressed pirate's hands away from the rope, his own replacing them to skillfully untie the knot. The younger man allowed his first mate to move him away from the helm and haul him to his feet. Cotton had taken his place at the wheel in an instant, tying himself to it and quickly working to steer the ship back on course with the Dauntless.

Jack was in a numb daze as Gibbs led him back to his cabin. The sounds of the storm muffled when the doors closed, making the younger man's panicked breathing more audible. As the other man lit a few candles, Jack dropped feebly into the chair beside his desk. His arms dangled limply beside him.

He vaguely heard Gibbs saying his name a few times, trying to get his attention. He didn't move. He was taken aback in surprise, snapped from his unpleasant reverie when the other man splashed a bottle of rum in his face. He blinked the liquid from his eyes, frowning as he glanced to his first mate.

The mutton-chopped pirate looked more than a little concerned. "Ye alright?"

Jack let out a ragged sigh before nodding.

"Ye want to talk 'bout it?"

He quickly shook his head. No, definitely not.

"Ye gonna be alright if I go back on deck?" Gibbs asked him.

Another nod.

The older man nodded back, beginning to go to the door.

Jack found his voice and called an afterthought to him. "Make a note to check on the sails; the mainmast was on fire."

"I'll keep it in mind, Cap'n." He assured him. "Rest easy."

And then Jack was alone again.