Well here you go. Another chapter and this is what my friend has to say about it.

Fondest greetings to you all! I know it's been an extremely long time since the last update, and you have every right to be angry with me. So, I shan't keep you long with this note. I simply wish to say that in the next chapter there will be more action, so keep a weather eye on the horizon. I remain, dear readers, your obedient servant,

O.G.

Chap. 8

Will was walking along a dark passageway. He didn't know where it led, or even where it was going. All he knew was that something was wrong. Will squinted, then straightened up. It wasn't exactly a passageway...it was a long, narrow room in a hip. He could barely make out wooden walls on either side of him, and he could feel the rhythmic tilting and swaying. The darkness was thick and pressed against him on all sides. He wondered why he was here, and what had happened. He didn't remember much...suddenly it can back to him. Elizabeth was dead. His beloved Elizabeth. Gone. And Jack...he had killed Jack. All he remembered was fighting Jack on a strange ship. He didn't know why, but he had been bent on killing him. He remembered the look on Jack's face as he had been stabbed. It would always haunt him. First, a look of betrayal. Then, resignation quickly took its place. Will remembered horror at realizing what he had done. Somehow, as Jack lay dying, he had known...whatever the reason was that had caused him to be so...inhuman was wrong. After this realization had struck him, he had tried frantically to save Jack, but to no avail. His eyes slid shut for the final time, hiding the look of acceptance that stayed there passively. Will had felt as if his very heart had been torn from him. Jack, his friend, the one man who was like a brother to him...dead by his hand. He had failed him. Will buried his head in his hands. He had failed him. Jack had trusted him, and now Jack was dead. He had failed him...he would live on with the memory of what he had done...he would live on while Jack was dead. Why, oh why had he done it? He moaned and started to weep. He had failed him...

xXx

Jack sat at Will's side. He was worried to a point that he actually couldn't remember what it was like to not be worried. He sighed. After Will had passed out, the had dressed all his other wounds as well, which had proved to be a very trying task indeed. It had taken all of his strength to restrain Will as he had writhed around and jerked, trying to escape from the pain that seemed to have become a part of him, the pain that accompanied the task at hand. Jack didn't blame him. After all, all that Will must have gone through must have had some effect on him. It was the stuff that nightmares were made of. Finally, after the painful process had been completed, Will had lain deathly still. His pale, weakened form still lay on the bed in the same position. The only way Jack had known that he still lived was from his extremely fast and extremely faint pulse. Jack massaged his temples in consternation. All of this...it was all his fault. If only he had gotten there sooner...perhaps then, even if Will still intended to end his life, perhaps he would have been less weak and wouldn't have lost his balance and fallen on... Jack's heart twisted inside of him as the events of the past day played once again through his mind. Will was hovering between life and death, and all because of him. He could have laughed at the irony had the situation not been so grave at that very moment. He was Will's friend, He had gone to save Will, and He had been the one to deliver the blow that could end Will's life. Jack sighed deeply once again. He was a wonderful friend, he thought sarcastically. If anything he had ever done turned out wrong (and that happened quite often), this was the greatest blunder...and a potentially (very potentially) fatal one as well. And all of this...every moment...was his fault. If Will died, he'd never forgive himself for what he'd done. He had harmed his friend...his brother. He was like a brother to him, after all. If Will lived, he'd tell him. He at least wanted him to know...but the chances of Will's survival were almost none. True, they had stopped the bleeding, but the wound was definitely grievous enough to cause death. Congratulations, Jack, he thought to himself sarcastically. You have most likely killed Will. Jack was so anxious that he hadn't even gotten rum from the hold. Yes, he was definitely worried. A moan from the bed brought his attention away from the central topic occupying Jack's mind. Will's chest started heaving up and down. Jack leaped up immediately and rushed to Will's side. He had started tossing and turning, which couldn't be advantageous to him in any way in the state he was in. Jack pressed gently then more firmly on his shoulders and tried to calm him as he started to struggle more. Whatever was bothering Will had him in a disturbed state of mind, that was sure. Something was most assuredly wrong. Aside from the fact that he's nearly dead, a small part of Jack noted wryly. Will continued to struggle against Jack's firm grasp, all the while muttering something Jack couldn't make out. It sounded like...black? No, that wouldn't help him make any sense of what was clearly bothering Will so much. The volume of Will's voice increased slightly just then, just enough to enable Jack to understand what was being said. "Jack...dead...no...no...NO!!" Jack barely had time to register what was being said before Will started jerking around violently, almost causing Jack to lose his grip. In a few moments, Jack managed to get a hold of Will again, all the while thinking over incredulously what had just issued form Will's lips. He didn't think Will knew any other person named Jack, but...why would he be referring to him? Could he be referring to him? Could that be what was bothering him so much? But why would he refer to him? After all, he didn't think that Will would be particularly bothered about him dying, especially after what he had inadvertently done to him. What friend would care after what he'd done, Jack thought darkly. Just then, Will started moaning again and started calling for Jack even more. Jack had no more time to ponder the matter, as he was completely occupied with Will. Will started writhing, and Jack frantically tried to stop him. If Will moved too much, it could be the end of him. "Will, lad, I'm here! I'm most certainly not dead!!! C'mon, Will!" His voice seemed to calm Will a bit, so he continued talking until Will was mostly settled down. After he was fairly certain that Will was as alright as he could be for the time being, Jack returned to his seat at Will's side. It was going to be a long wait until (and if) Will woke up.

xXX

It had been one week. One week of mindless worry and anxiety over Will. Jack continued to stay by Will's side, never leaving him unless it was absolutely necessary. One week. One week of guilt, one week of pain, one week of never knowing if Will would live or die. One week. He never knew that one week could hold so much in it. Jack was beginning to lose hope. True, the wound had been terrible, but this, this...going on, without a sign of improvement, without anything was beginning to take its toll on him. He couldn't remember sleeping soundly at all since it happened, and he wasn't even sure if he had slept. All he knew was this going on, this waiting, as hope slowly dwindled. He rubbed his eyes wearily. It was all like a horrible nightmare. Will's death would mean the end of life as he knew it. Will would be gone forever, and he'd have to live with the guilt of knowing that it was him who had done it, him who had taken everything from Will...Will would never marry Elizabeth, he'd never make another sword...he'd never do anything again. And all because of him. Captain Jack Sparrow. A sound from the bed stirred Jack from his thoughts, and he sprung up, heart racing. Will started mumbling and moving ever so slightly. Jack stilled Will's movements by gently applying pressure to Will's shoulders. Will's eyelids flickered, and Jack's heart leaped. As Will struggled to open his eyes, Jack encouraged him with a trembling voice. "C'mon, lad, open your eyes, Give me one sign that your alright...please, Will," he ended in a whisper. Not daring to breathe, and not believing what he was seeing, Jack watched as Will finally opened his eyes. They were glazed over with pain and fever, but they were open. Will squinted at the light and began to close his eyes again. Jack quickly moved in front of light and pleaded with Will to keep his eyes open. "C'mon, William, you're this far. Don't give up on me now...not now." At Jack's voice, Will's eyes shot open once more, and he managed to murmur weakly. "Jack?" Jack's heart practically soared in jubilation. "Yes, Will, I'm here." He quickly held Will steady for the umpteenth time as Will struggled unsuccessfully to sit up. "Don't move," he ordered. He wasn't about to have Will wake up only to let him injure himself further. Will sank back onto the many pillows Jack had managed to find and started mumbling to himself once more. "No...can't be...dead." Jack, recalling what Will had believed in his unconsciousness, decided once and for all to eliminate it. He firmly took Will's head in both his hand and forced him to look into his eyes. "Will...I am not dead. Look at me," he commanded as Will turned his eyes away. When he was sure he had Will's attention, he began again. "I am not dead," he said, putting emphasis on each word. "I am alive. Very much alive." Will managed a very weak whisper at this. "Can't be...I...killed you." A brief look of horror and understanding crossed Jacks face. Then, he immediately shook his head. "No one killed me, lad, and least of all you." He thought with a pang of regret and shame of what he had done. "I was the one who almost killed you. You did nothing...I did." It took a while, but understanding and hazy remembrance finally registered on Will's face. Will, summoning all his strength, managed a last whisper, "I'm sorry." At this Jack, smiled sadly. "There's nothing to be sorry for, William. I'm the one who should be sorry." Will's cloudy, fevered eyes finally slid shut at this, and this time, Jack allowed them to. If Will was to heal completely, he'd need lots of rest. Will's eyes opening and his recognition of him was a good sign, but he still had a lot of obstacles to overcome. Jack smiled gently at Will's once-again unconscious form, the first time Jack had smiled in a long time. There was hope. And, if it killed him, he'd cling to that hope until it was certain that Will would live. Jack was almost giddy. There was a chance, and that chance was growing steadily.

xXx

A few days later, Will was able to stay awake for more than a few minutes. He still had a fever and was very weak, but the fever had lowered some, and he could definitely hold a coherent thought and even manage a conversation on a good day. However, he was still extremely weak, and no one could deny that. He still couldn't sit up, and he wouldn't be able to be moved for some time, but he was progressing, which was like magic to Jack's spirits. Jack still couldn't think of what had happened without tremendous guilt, but he had managed to focus on Will at the present time. These thoughts were running through his mind as he glanced out over the ocean from his cabin. He turned around to find Will's eyes trained on him, watching every move. "Jack," he spoke softly. "What is it, Will?" Jack replied as he strode over to Will. Will averted his eyes as he spoke. "I'm sorry." Jack stopped. Something was definitely wrong. He sat down at his usual place beside Will and gazed at Will, his eyes filled with concern. "Will...whatever for?"

"I hated you, Jack," Will said, gazing at Jack momentarily before training his gaze once again on the ceiling. "I hated you. I wanted to kill you. I didn't care about anything else. I wanted to kill you, Jack." More emotion started to creep into Will's voice, and Jack sensed that he should just listen. Will continued on. "I thought you had killed her. I thought you had killed Elizabeth..." Here his voice faltered. "I thought that you had betrayed me. I thought you had betrayed her as well. I foolishly believed him...", he said bitterly. "You were always in my thoughts. I planned how I'd kill you," he whispered, glancing over at Jack. "I wanted to you dead. That's all I wanted. It was the only thing I hung onto...the thought of you, lying there, dead by my hand. I wanted it. I wanted it so much..." he squeezed his eyes shut at this memory. Slowly, as he opened them again, he spoke more slowly. "And then, after we fought, and he told me it was a lie...all a lie... " His voice started trembling. "I'm so sorry, Jack. I'm so sorry..." he trailed off.

Jack stared at Will in horror. He shouldn't be feeling this way...after all, he was the one who had stabbed him and betrayed him, not vice versa. Now, it was his turn to speak up. "Will...none of this is your fault. None of it," he emphasized. "You had a right to want me dead..." and I should be dead for what I did, Jack added silently.

"By all rights, I should be dead, Jack..." Will continued with grief in his voice. "You were the one who came for me...you wanted to save me. But I...I believed him. I betrayed your trust...I betrayed you."

Jack looked at Will disbelievingly. "William, how do you expect you weren't to believe him? He tortured you and you were terribly weak. Of course you believed him! Anyone would have!"

"Jack..."

Jack had had enough. He wasn't going to have Will feeling guilty for something that wasn't his fault at all. He leapt up and forced Will to look into his eyes. "William Turner, you did nothing wrong whatsoever. You were bloody injured! No one would not believe him in the state you were in! So stop feeling bloody guilty for something that wasn't your fault!!!" he exploded.

Will stared at Jack, astonished. "Jack," he began with a slight edge to his voice. "I hated you."

Jack sat back down and sighed exasperatedly. He shouldn't have gotten angry with Will, but how could he not when he was making such a mistake! He couldn't let Will keep antagonizing himself. He decided to end this once and for all. He glared at Will. "William Turner, you never truly hated me. You could never have true hatred for anyone. You only thought you hated me. William, if you had truly hated me, you would have known it. True hated takes a cold, unfeeling person, William Turner, and you are most certainly not cold and unfeeling. You are the best, most true-hearted person I know, and I mean it! You were tricked into believing you hated me, but you didn't. You never hated anyone, William. You were grieving and wounded and no one could blame you for what you did. So stop bloody well blaming yourself!!!"

After this speech, Jack fell silent. Will stared, shocked. Had Jack really just said as much? Deep inside him, he knew that Jack was right, but it would still take a while for him to accept it. He knew Jack was right. And he'd be eternally grateful to him for what he had done. But there was something else on his mind as well...he spoke up quietly. "Jack...I suppose you're right. It will take me some time to accept it all though. I have one more thing to say, though...are you really alive, and not just a figment of my imagination?"

Jack almost smiled at the odd twist the conversation had taken. "Yes, Will, I am alive and well."

Will sighed in relief. "It's just that...the dreams I had. Awful dreams..." Jack once again kept his eyes trained on Will in concern. "Tell me," Jack commanded.

Will kept speaking. "I had killed you. I stabbed you and...your eyes as you died...I knew I was wrong...I had killed you. I tried to save you, but..."

Now Jack understood why Will had been so worried and hadn't believed it was really him when he had first woken up. Inwardly, it made his spirit feel good that Will thought so much of him, but he knew it had caused Will considerable pain. He struggled for words. "Will..." It took him a while, but he finally found words to convey what he wanted to say. "William, you're a very good friend to me. I'm flattered that you think so much of me. Will, it was all a dream. All of it, all of what you just told me was a dream. None of it was real. You didn't kill me. I'm here, alive, and so are you, and everything will be alright."

Will managed to smile gratefully at Jack. Jack could tell he had needed to hear that. He returned the smile, glad that at least Will could be guilt-free. Now, he noticed that Will's eyelids were starting to droop. It was the longest conversation he'd had since he'd woken up, and a very trying one at that. It had taken a lot out of him. In a few minutes time, Will was sound asleep and Jack smiled. He rested his hand lightly on Will's forehead. It was still hot, which was to be expected in his condition, but the fact that he could remain awake was a definite improvement. Whether he should stay awake was another matter. He needed rest, and Jack was determined he'd get it. And if Will tried to object (which was highly unlikely at this point), he'd bloody well drug him, Jack thought fiercely. He knew how stubborn Will could be sometimes, and if he had Will figured out, at some point, he'd object. It was ironic how Jack wanted Will asleep so bad now that afore-mentioned blacksmith had woken up. Jack smoothed back Will's hair gently. He smiled again as he gazed at the slumbering form. Will looked so peaceful as he slept well for the first time in a long time. He looked so peaceful and, with all worries smoothed away, he looked almost...child-like. Will would've killed him had he known that particular thought, but...it was true. And Jack wouldn't have it any other way.

There you go. While you review I'm going to find out what O.G stains for.