Authors note: This story is a collabortation between two authors. This is our first Pirates of the Caribbean fanfiction as well as the first we had ever written together. This piece was started before DMC was released, so this story has been forced to become somewhat of an AU. Some character's, characterizations, ect may not be exact. And we apologies if that happens. We tried our best. Please note also we tried to incorperate as must accurate Pirate slang and terminology as possible. If you do not understand something please feel free to ask. Currently this is a romance free story. However depending on how it plays out and input from readers that may change in the future. While being free from romance there are still adult images and theme's and we caution readers to heed the ratings. All comments and critisms are very much appreciated. Thank you, and we hope you enjoy it.
Disclaimer : We do not claim, claim to own or hold any rights to Pirates of the Caribbean, the characters therein, or anything else affiliated. Those are the sole proptery of Disney, and Disney corperations. We are making no profit from this story. It is simply a piece of fiction for entertainment purposes only. Random names, places, and non-cannon characters as well as the plot and story itself however are our own and we would ask you please do not take them.
Summary : There are many powers at work in the world. Many things that can tip the delicate balance and plunge the world into chaos.For a Pirate such annoyances are never considered.But when the balance is broken and the world teeters on the brink, what is a Pirate to do? The winds and tides have changed. Jack & Will find themselves thrown into an olympic sized adventure that threatens the lives of every man at sea. They are left with little choice. Save a soul. Change a future. Or watch the world crumble.
"Child of the Storm"
Chapter Three "Marks of Battle"
Lightning cracked outside the darkened cabin window, illuminating the interior for a mere brilliant moment before dampening again to soft candle light.
The flames flickered in the still air, dancing in soft yellows and oranges across a darkened face, hidden partially by shadows. Jack sat in the cold silence of the room, perched in an ornate chair; chin resting on his bejeweled knuckles as observant eyes remained rooted carefully, studying the motionless form upon the bed. The sound of dripping water was faint to his ears lost somewhere in the back of his consciousness, mixed with the thundering rain outside the large room and creaking of punished wood. His thoughts were however firmly fixed upon the being before him. As they had been for four evenings now. The Pirate had split his attentions between captaining his ship through the endless storm during the dark days and staying watch over his companion at night.
Will had yet to regain true consciousness in the five days since the accident.
He would wake in a fevered delirious state now and again and the surgeon took the opportunity to force small amounts of food, drink and what medications he had down the wounded man. But that was the extent of his progress.
An infection had started to fester around the stitched bullet hole on the second day, yet several treatments of an old witch doctors remedy he had procured from an old friend and careful persistent cleansing had done wonders to stem it before it progressed into disaster. The young blacksmith seemed on his way to mending but he still did not wake. The fever had broken early that morning, and Jack had been a steady presence at his side since. Patiently waiting for the young man's return to reality.
The wiry pirate shifted, raising a jug of rum, downing a large swig with a satisfied gulp before setting the bottle again atop the table next to him. A candle flickered and sputtered in the corner, extinguishing with a sudden hiss as a leaking board dripped upon the flame with the sway of the sea. Lazy eyes noted the smoke and pungent smell in the suddenly darker space. Glancing again to the still form he moved swaggering in his drunken manner towards the melted taper retrieving his flint stones and sparking the flame back to light with expert ease. The ornaments in his hair swayed and jingled as he moved, the sword at his hip clinking with every motion. The familiar comforting sound of the ever present bangles gave him leave to pause as he passed his navigations desk, eyes watching a phantom memory in a far off way as it surfaced in his cobwebbed mind.
A refined Pirates hand tapped against a board in the wall, moving to the next then the next until he heard the sound he wanted, pushing and the plank gave way. Dirty nails pried at the wooden board, pulling it away from its recess in the wall as the other hand disappeared into the darkened cubby behind it retrieving a velvet bag. Replacing the board as silently as he had removed it, Jack quickly returned to the bedside. This time however languidly perching on the edge of a mattress far too luxurious for a ship, instead of the chair he had previously vacated.
Turning the bag tail end up, he surreptitiously dumped the contents upon his lap, several gold beads, colored trinkets and strange jewels rolling against the roughened fabric clinking against one another as they settled. He had been meaning to give these to the young pirate as soon as the boy had joined his crew that neigh two years ago now. But the time had never seemed right. Not that there ever was a right time for such things. But Jack was a man of strange ways. And he kept to them.
Sparrow remembered how sodden and down trod the boy had been when he came across him in the pirate port of Nassau riddled with sickness all those months ago.
The local tavern and hotel of Nassau was a wash and riot of color, sounds and rum.
There was a foul stink of sweat, liquor, and sex, with a strong under current of sea water in the air. A scent that clung to most pirates and patrons as they came and went on their path in and out of port. The 'Admirals Daughter' as she had been dubbed was a huge melting pot of strange men, sultry women, and all sorts of liquor and loot. And tonight was no exception. The tavern was positively bursting with ruckus and activity. A small bar brawl raged somewhere near the back of the large vaulted ceiling building, and several scantly clad busty wenches roamed the tavern floor scouring for their next customer.
There would indeed be no shortage of amusement this night.
Jack sauntered his way quite confidently towards the over flowing bar, easily staking a spot next to a voluptuous black haired beauty who he had yet had the pleasure of making acquaintance. Kohl rimmed eyes swayed up and down her curvaceous form and a suave curl turned his dark lips. She was exotic. Oriental, with a mysterious tilt to her darkly painted eyes and lips so full and red it was as if bees had stung them; swollen, plump and tempting. Dropping a coin onto the bar the notorious pirate ordered a drink and whispered soft tantalizing words into her ear and a promise for an evening visit.
The Asian vixen giggled and cooed under the charming sway that Jack Sparrow possessed. A pale porcelain hand passed a small chip of jade into the man's grasp, a sort of calling card, before hurrying on her way to her next bedfellow.
The pirate grinned, slipping the piece into his pocket and lifted his flask of rum, swallowing a hardy helping before turning. Acutely aware cocoa eyes scanned the room once more, savoring the taste of liquor and smoke upon his tongue. Tonight sadly was not all meant for fun and games. Jack had received word through a recent pillage of a passing ship that a man had been asking for him. A frightening man, with piercing eyes and wild hair. Searching all his known haunts from the Spanish Main to Singapore. While Jack was not a man to give in to worry often, nor fear, he was exceedingly familiar with curiosity. And as the days turned into weeks, curiosity had finally gotten the better of him.
Some four weeks after receiving the news he had ordered the Pearl to port in Nassau; the supposed next port of choice for his mystery stalker.
The message had been cryptic at best. No names were dropped, no distinctions of any kind really. Sparrow really did not expect to spot a face he knew in this ragged crowd aside from his own crew, whom currently dotted the tavern engaged in various acts of piracy and drunkenness. But, he supposed if this man was so intent upon finding him, he would in fact find him. So he left fate to her games. Whisking his mug from the bar Jack proceeded to his usual place, secluded in a back corner. Not quite dark yet not quite light. It was just enough to be seen but not really noticed if you weren't really looking. Lounging back in the rickety wooden chair, heavy boots clunked atop the table, relaxing as he waited and savored his liquor.
"Jack Sparrow!... S'been a while love." A heavily accented voice reached his ears. Raising his gaze, dark orbs met the partially painted petite face of a familiar wench. A woman dressed in reds and gold.
"Jezabelle, darlin." Jack greeted with a dramatic fondness, wrapping an arm about her waist and with the same motion twirled and pulled her smack dab into his lap. The girl grinned, honey curled locks bouncing with the movements as she delighted in the long missed company. "I have no' seen ye in ages. What's kept you away love?" she purred, running a hand teasingly over the bare flesh of Jack's chest peaking ever so temptingly atop his partially opened shirt. "Ah, s'been a busy year darling. Cursed pirates, undead pigmies, and all the like. Ol' Jack's a right popular fellow with them fanciful types."
The young woman laughed and playfully slapped the man's clothed shoulder shaking her head as she leaned close, exposing just a little more of her already amply exposed bosom. "Ye and yer stories Jack." The Pirate captain grinned, a hand swaying flamboyantly before crossing over his heart in a dramatic show. "S'all true darlin'. Every word. On my honor". He smirked. She laughed and shook her head, golden ringlets framing a lovely face. "You 'ave no honor Jack." "Oh! I'm hurt lass! Cut me right to the core, that."
"I said leave me be! Let go, or I swear I'll shoot you dead here and now."
A startled female patron cried out in surprise as a chair skid across the floor and several flasks shattered with the outcry of an angered male voice.
Jack's eyes darted up curiously at the naggingly familiar timbre, scanning the spooked tavern goers for the source. "Come on luv.. Just a little kiss?" An obviously drunk pirate slurred, a meaty grubby hand wrapped about a younger man's forearm as he tried to 'woo' his way into the others pants. The inebriated man was hovering over a seated form, leaning dangerously close to the dark haired lad's face, close enough to smell the rot of his teeth and stink of alcohol and unsavory foods. The pistol in the offended sailor's free hand cocked loudly and raised with a trained flick of a wrist, the muzzle leveled upon the burly beings dirty forehead, as his other hand tightened about his tankard of booze.
"I said. Let. Me. Go."
Jack's mind was racing behind his eyes as he surveyed the scene.
The seated man's back was facing him, and from what he could make out of the form it was not that much to look at. He looked half starved, no more then a frail walking skeleton really. His skin was sallow and pale, a distinctly unhealthy sheen marring what must have once been handsome flesh, leech track marks crisscrossing both partially bare arms, and a long dark mane matted and haphazardly tied back with a dirty blue bandana. Jack did not recognize any of what he was seeing. But something in that voice was vaguely familiar to him. "'S'cuse me lovie." The wench was brushed aside with a huff of annoyance on her part, before he made his way swaggering and jingling towards the man and soon to be dead pirate if he wasn't careful.
The scrawny man's finger had just started to squeeze the trigger, when Jack interrupted. "I wouldn't waste a shot on that worthless git mate."
The frail looking man jumped, nearly dropping the pistol in his startled state before large once bright eyes turned to face the new arrival.
"E'llo William."
"...Jack...?" The name was breathy and broken sounding as it reached the dreaded pirates ears, and a faint twinge stung what could probably once have been called a heart. Once beautiful and lively eyes were now dull and slightly yellow tinted with sickness and neglect, all distinctions of what was once life and exuberance gone. High cheeks stuck prominently out upon thin filthy features, more then a day's growth dotting a one time proud jaw and chin. The boy was shaking, ill, and quite possibly half dead as he sat a mere ghost of his former self before the standing captain. "This one's mine. Bugger off an' find yer own." Jack warned the hovering braggart, a hand sliding intimidatingly over his own pistol. The drunken man with a snort and dismissive hand tottered off to pester another pretty face.
"Jack...?"
Stealthily saddened eyes returned to the shocked young man below him, noting the boy was still frozen in mid turn, gun raised and shaking. Reaching Jack gently lowered the pistol to the table, forcibly unwinding the lad's fingers and releasing the tension upon the trigger. Sliding into the bench next to the once quite beautiful man Sparrow eyed him with a confused look swirling in his orbs. "Are you real Jack?..."
"Aye love. Real as the day I were birthed. Fancy a demonstration?" The odd pirate quipped with his usual lighthearted air. Any emotions the man was feeling or capable of feeling well hidden behind handsome grins and flashy hands.
Will seemed just as lost and startled to suddenly be graced with the familiar company as Jack was by his one time friend's appearance. A shaking hand shifted, timidly brushing fingers disbelieving across the other man's wrist and down bejeweled and dirty fingers before shoulders seemed to suddenly drop as if the weight of the world came crashing down all at once upon the young blacksmith. "I can't believe I finally found you." There was a strange flavor to his voice, a smile coloring his words, yet it was not a happy smile. Bordering instead on madness. Jack was at a loss. The last he had heard from the young man he and his lady love were discussing marriage back home in Port Royal. Happy and healthy. How the lad came to be here, so weak, sick and changed, and certainly Elizabeth free was beyond him. "Yer the one's been looking for me then?"
William didn't respond immediately, a faint nod his only reply as he swiftly raised his mug of liquor, guzzling down half its contents in one go. Jack raised an eyebrow.
"What brings ye so far from home then lad? Ye finally come to terms with your deep seeded love fer dear ol' Captain Jack and come to whisk me off me feet? Not an easy task mind ye. I' got me standards an' all. But I love to see ye try." He grinned with a self appreciating air, examining his filthy nails and rings before rubbing them showily across his jacket. He garnered no response. "Or perhaps, did ol' what's her name come to her senses and kick ye out?" Jack quipped with an air of familiar good nature, grasping his own tankard of grog, flagging down the forgotten wench for another round. It took him a moment to notice the pang of loss in the lad's eyes and the sudden stiffness locking his form at the mention of that saucy girl. "...She's gone Jack..." It was no more then a whisper breathed into the flask of drink, darkened eyes glassy with fever fixed on an image burned into his mind from months passed.
A sudden coughing fit racked the young man's body, stealing his breath and dusting a salty sheen across his face and neck.
"What? She run off with that ol' powered wig sea dog then?"
"She's gone... Dead." He repeated, shaking his head and swallowing hard. Jack didn't know how to reply.
Pirates very seldom dealt with heart break. What pain they felt was easily drowned out with liquor and swift visits to the local whore houses. So he acted the only way he knew how. Snatching the bar maids sleeve as she passed by, "Make that a double.." Swallowing a strange lump, Jack cleared his throat an odd look marring his features as the boy suffered another bought of difficult hacking. "What happened lad?"
"She.. fell sick not long after we returned to Port Royal.. And.. I not long after her. Surgeon said it was an island infection..." The former blacksmith mumbled, eyes trained on the palm of his hand, eyeing a poorly wrapped bandage where Jack recognized had once been a cut to save his life and end an impossible curse. Of course.. He had not thought of that. The two of them were land lubbers. They were not used to nor exposed to the fevers and illnesses of the sea and untamed islands on a regular basis. To one with little immunity an island disease was almost always instantly fatal. "I had some natural resistance to it... The surgeon supposed it was due to my smithing... but Elizabeth... She passed within a week of falling ill." The last was spoken with a chilling detachment, lost in the darkness of drink as Will raised his mug again, draining the last of the harsh liquor. "I couldn't even hold her as she died Jack..." Turner shook his head in memory and the last vestiges of anger and pain, not even blinking as a new mug brimming with grog was placed before him, turning to meet the wiry pirate's darkened eyes. "I couldn't even touch her... I was there... I was right there. Right next to her... Yet I couldn't even move. Couldn't just ...reach out my hand, and touch her, and tell her I loved her... All I could do was lie there, and watch her die... Watch her suffer.. And die..."
"I'm sorry lad.."
Will simply shook his head at the mumbled expression of sympathy. A wasted and perhaps faked gesture. Fingers curled around his mug of liquor, gazing into the amber liquid with a far away look as a weary tremble of fatigue and perhaps something more shook his limbs.
"As soon as I could stand on my own, I left... I put a flower, her favorite flower... upon her grave, and I left...I've been jumping ship to ship since... I'm not sure why I came.. What drove me here, to look for you.." The boy seemed confused now, casting a somewhat curious glance towards his companion as Jack sipped his own rum. "Perhaps it was simply the fever... Or the grief..." Will shrugged half heartedly, wiping the pathetically wrapped hand against his forehead, swiping annoyed at the persistent, ever present it seemed, sweat glossing his skin. "I bet ye just missed me irresistible charm." Jack teased, an awkward toothy grin flashing before faltering and slipping away.
Both men fell silent, a heavy weight to the air about them as both dwelled upon inner thoughts, losing more and more awareness to the accursed rum before them. They remained that way for several moments, each numb to the noise and happenings about them.
Sparrow glanced up as another bar fight broke out amongst the tavern folk, several chairs and bottles smashing as two drunken pirates seemed to fight quite vehemently over the same snarky bar maid. "What's it matter what brought ye then?.. All that matters is yer here ay?" He ignored the miniature battle, remembering the jade trinket with a spark of regret. Somehow he highly doubted he would be able to enjoy that gorgeous china dolls attentions this night as he had hoped. The younger man snorted with a faint gesture vaguely resembling a nod, or perhaps a shrug.
"What are ye planning now boy?.. Where will ye go from here?"
Will's brow knit for a moment at the off handed seeming question, eyes glancing from beneath a dark crest of spiked lashes and damp curly locks. "I don't know... I honestly didn't expect to live this long..." A vaguely ironic chuckle escaped before breaking into a violent fit of coughing. A hand clamped over his mouth as the boy near doubled over, something red and sticky splattering his palm as he wheezed. Idly he wiped the smudge against his soiled knickers. Jack tried not to notice.
"Well then, its settled. Ye'll be comin' with me. And don't think I'll go easy on ye just cause ye fancy me now. I'm flattered and' all, really. But I don' play favorites savvy?" Sparrow announced with an odd sort of triumph, throwing back his head and downing the rest of his grog, before slamming the mug back onto the wobbly wooded table.
"What?" Will blinked, eyes wide at the unexpected, strange offer shrouded in self boasting, a small miniscule spark of hope returning to his long dead gaze.
"Aboard the Pearl... Honestly, lad. Ye really can be daft sometimes."
"But Jack-"
"No, sorry, too late love. Yer already sworn it. Welcome aboard mate."
"What? Jack wait!"
"Jack!"
It was a dark memory, filled with unusual emotions he didn't like to admit existed. And yet it was tinged with a silver lining like those proverbial clouds Jack kept hearing about.
He remembered the faint familiar spark he had seen take root in the man's glassy eyes that night as he offered him a rightful place in his crew. Though it really was less an offer, and more an order.
Will may have struggled at first, his honest nature warring with the lust for piracy and the open ocean. But of course ultimately the boy was as happy to be here as he was to have the young man, who was so like his father. Even then. Once Will came to terms with his seamen's blood and recovered from his dilapidating illness, the boy indeed grew to become a fine pirate. Just as Sparrow had trusted he would. The best under his charge he dare say, working his way into the top ranks of Jack's crew. He had even managed to make a name for himself in the pirating world surprisingly fast, known now as Honest Will. The name made Jack smile. It was nothing if not true. And Jack had gone so far as to name the boy first mate. Jack valued the lad as a friend, a mate, and a pirate in arms. And in his own way Jack knew the boy would be alright. He knew he was strong, he knew he would recover and their lives of pillaging, plundering and sailing would again return as they had been before the accident.
It was with this knowledge that he felt the time was right to offer the trinkets he cradled in his dirty bejeweled hands.
Dark eyes inspected the contents of his lap, picking over the small and some quite large bobbles before selecting one raising it for closer scrutiny. Yes, it would do nicely. Nodding to himself the captain's gaze turned to the younger man, watching in the low lamp light as his breath escaped parted pale lips, chest rising and falling in time with the rolling sea.
The whelp's appearance hadn't altered all that much since they had first met. Though from that shadow of a man he had picked up those two years ago he was completely different.
Obviously he had finally given into his pirate nature. Hands now bore a few gold and jeweled rings to mark his status, a fine chain about his neck and an earring gracing his left lobe. Perhaps he was a few inches taller, and leaner. The taut muscles he had acquired from his long hours of diligent smithy work eaten away by sickness had melted seamlessly into the lean wiry frame of a gifted pirate. His hair had also certainly grown, now trailing down between his shoulder blades, where it used to just brush passed his shoulders. Oft tied back by a scarf or strap of leather. Even his clothing was freer. The heavy oppressive fabrics of society and propriety forgone, replaced with soft billowing white cotton shirts and nicely cut slacks. Stockings replaced by heavy boots much like Jack's own. The changes in Sparrows mind were certainly for the better.
A smirk faintly tipped the corner of the elder Pirates lips as he returned to reality swaggering his lingering gaze back to the youth's attractive slumbering face.
But no matter how much the boy changed, or stayed the same for that matter, he always seemed a bit of a mystery to Jack. He was vexing to the older man. Even over the years as they became close, there were things he still did not understand about him. Though, truth be told, he was quite certain the reverse was the same.
A bowl of fresh water and wash rag had been left on a table beside the bed, and a hand quickly retrieved the cloth and dampened it. With a gentleness most would not expect from the notorious captain he wiped the beads of moisture from the lads face; the last visible remnants of the fleeing fever. Fingers then dipped in the cool liquid, capturing a lock of curly chocolate slicking the strands with moisture before nimble digits set to work.
Each section of the chosen locks were twisted and braided, the carefully selected beads and charms attached and secured with a deft skill. It was a queer sort of sight. Both beautiful and strange as fingers worked in ways they ought not to. A grown man styling another's hair was certainly not a habit of a good pirate. But this case was exceptional.
The boy stirred as the Pirate continued his work, a deep swallow, then dark cocoa orbs the likes of he had never seen before his meeting of the boy fluttered; struggled for amoment, then lifted.
"...J...Ja..ck...?"
"Shhh, yer throat must be sore lad." The pirate hushed, not pausing in his actions as the young man swallowed, heavy eyes still clouded with sleep and confusion. Though the elder man was quite relieved to see not a single sign of illness in them. " 'Ere" One hand moved then, the other still grasping at the braided section as Will swallowed again, a tongue darting to lick dry lips. Retrieving his forgotten bottle of rum he carefully tipped the rim to the boy, offering a small drink. Will accepted, thankfully at first, before wincing at the familiar burn pulling back. "Jack.. water." he groaned, heavy eyes glaring up at the older man so obsessed with his drink.
"What? Rum will cure all what ails ye boy. Tis good fer ye." Jack replied, a mock look of hurt crossing his face before he set the bottle aside, forgoing an argument and grasped the rag as there was no cup present. Dipping it in the water he placed the cloth above the young man's lips squeezing and letting the cold liquid drip into his parched mouth. Will raised an eyebrow but did not object, swallowing the water offered before settling deeper into the pillows. "Any pain lad?" Jack questioned, repeating the action. Dipping the rag and wringing it over the boys mouth lowering it enough for the youth to suck on a damp corner drawing out more refreshing drought.
Pulling back for a moment Will accessed his body and the sensations his brain was sluggish to register. Everything was foggy still, muddled by sleep, pain and a heavy amount of drugs. Not to mention rum he was sure the Captain had forced down him when he was out. Breathing carefully he noted a sharp pain with every breath in his left abdomen, and the tail end of a headache. But aside from that and the disorientation he seemed half alive. "S'not bad... Tired though.." The boy replied lethargically, lazy seeming orbs rolling back to his companions face. "H.. How long?"
"Five days."
Blackened eyes accepted the information with a rumble of his stomach, turning to gaze questioningly at the hands in his hair.
"Where are w...?" the words were interrupted by a faint wince and another swallow prompting the Captain to again offer a drink of the cool liquid. This time after the boy took his fill he wiped the rag over his forehead and down through the strands of hair he was working. "Off the coast of Nassau. I'll be sending the boys ashore when the storm breaks." As if prompted by Jack's words lightning cracked across the sky blinding the wounded blacksmith for a moment, and thunder rolled. Only then did he notice the pelting rain and angry sea rocking the large clipper ship. A minute nod of approval, then his attention was again upon the curious task his Captain was partaking.
"Jack?..."
"Aye?"
"What are you doing?"
"Catchin' fish... Wha's it look like whelp?"
"Like a grown man playing with another grown man's hair?"
Jack snorted grasping another trinket from his lap and slipped it into place. "Tis a mark of a true Pirate lad... There." Finishing the last section he knotted the strands of hair around a gold coin that had once been modified and mounted to be worn as a necklace, examining his handwork with an obvious display of pride. "What?"
"Look. Dis one's Barbossa. This one Port Royal. This the Interceptor. This, Tibs Savvy?... Each trinket marks an escape from death lad. Think of um as battle scars." Kohl lined eyes raised from the glittering beads as he pointed to each in turn to meet the boys in a rare moment of serious contemplation before a dancing smirk filled their depths. The drunk seeming Pirates hands swayed through the air in a flashy display the trinkets and bobbles in his own hair swaying and jingling as he moved.
"Ye didn't think I wore um just to look good did ye?"
"The thought had crossed my mind." Will replied mildly, his eyes instead inspecting the charms woven into his hair. There were nine all together, ten including the gold coin at the bottom of the strand. Three gold, one white faceted charm, a blue, two cocoa, and two odd shaped red beads. Turning his head they rolled and brushed his cheek in a cold caress of smooth precious metals. It was a nice sensation. And honestly they did not look that bad. He noted also however several twisted dreaded braids nestled into the longer of his curly locks. How did Jack manage that? An odd look crossed his face. "And what is the purpose of these I wonder?"
"Oh those? They just look good." Jack grinned. Gold teeth flashing in that strangely attractive way of his.
"Braggart."
"Of course"
Will snorted and smiled softly trying not to laugh however, as his side tightened with the strain. "You had best not be trying to remake me in your image, Jack Sparrow."
"Never! You can't duplicate perfection boy." Jack grinned, leaning back as if to lounge in a chair propping hands behind his head, tipping his hat into his eyes with the same fluid motion, and crossed his ankles.
"What perfection?..." Will mumbled, pushing the precariously perched man from the edge of the mattress, watching amused as his captain warped the fall into a strange graceless swagger to his feet that somehow looked planned. Only Jack..
"Open yer eyes whelp its right in front of yer face." A wave of an exaggerated hand and half bow later, the perpetually drunk Pirate practically hovered over the boys body near nose to nose; one of the chains of trinkets in his own hair surreptitiously smacking the lad in the cheek. To Will's credit he managed a surprisingly authentic looking expression of innocence, eyes gazing about what of the room he could see purposefully avoiding Sparrow. "Where? I fail to see it."
There was a sudden knock on the door and Jack straightened, "Whelp..." he mumbled, swallowing his reply instead bidding the person to enter.
"The storms brok'n Cap'n. Shall we head to shore?" Gibbs asked, leaning around the large wooden door, surprised to see the young Turner once again among the living. " 'S good to see ye 'wake lad. Thought ye'd never come back." Will smiled kindly at the older man, used to the lax form of familiarity instead of respect of rank from the other, but did not reply. Jack nodded sauntering from the edge of the bed, the velvet bag and remaining trinkets set upon the table before he moved towards the door. "Aye, send two parties. We need water an' supplies. And surgeon needs 'is tonics. After we're stocked we'll stay a bit. Break from the dour weather and unpleasant company." Jack replied, a mock scornful look flitting Will's way who annoyingly just grinned. The Captain retrieved a bottle left by surgeon swirling the dark liquid in the glass before returning his gaze to the older man. "An' have grub and grog brought. We'll be eatin' here tonight."
"Aye sir."
"Handsomely now, Gibbs."
"Aye."
The sun dusted the golden waves in hues of treasure and blood. A soft lazy wind licking at the crimson colored sails high above head as a single strange man stood perched upon the back parapet of the enormous ship. The last trickles of rain soon fell and dried and the warm dusk scented the air with a pungent fresh fragrance. The sky was clear and colored a beautiful gory red; the end of day nearing swiftly.
Crystal blue eyes examined the far off horizon as the sea broke and split beneath the intimidating ship.
There was a change in the winds.
A taste.
Bitter and foul.
He could feel the grit of foreboding upon his tongue and it made him smile. Destiny was coming.
A looming figure of rather tall stature, the man was silent and chillingly still. Not so much as swaying as the galleon rose and fell with the wake of the waters. He posed as if a statue adorning the magnificent vessel, eyes ever ready and watching. Thoughts danced behind his orbs. Eyes glistening red with the setting sun. Eyes that while beautiful were mad. Sanity long since fleeing the mind sheltered behind the shining windows. Jeweled hands gripped the wooden railing.
Soon.
Aye. Soon.
Soon it would be time.
The tainted smirk upon once handsome features twisted and curled beneath a dark mustache. "Cap'n, the scuttlebutt in port say she's off coast of Nassau." A terrified seeming man slithered his way next to the imposing figure, eyeing the man with a nervous air. Though pointedly avoiding his face. The captain nodded, raising a fisted hand, glancing at the contents of his palm. "Good. Mark heading for Nassau." His voice was deep. Almost eerily so. Reverberating hauntingly across the wood of his ship like some fantastic entity; sending a chill down the deck hand's back. "Aye sir."
"Weasel... The man what told you. Wha's become of him?" The dark haired man asked, a cloud of malice forming around his body as he turned to face the short mousy being. The pirate swallowed. "Dead sir. Got a knife in him back fer his loose tongue." The wicked grin upon the mad Captain's face grew. "Yer sure he's dead?" The littler man seemed to smile then, if only a little, filthy hands nervously twitching before him. "Aye sir. Him drown in him own blood." "Good. Very good... On yer way." The lesser being nodded at the order and hurried back the way he came. Insane blue's turned back to the macabre sight behind his ship as the sun melted into the ocean, marking the death of day. Everything was hued a bloody crimson. Just like he liked it.
Soon...
I will catch ye...
I'm coming for you..
Not long later another knock at the door sounded.
Jack rose from his perch beside the bed, swinging the bi-fold cabin doors dramatically, as always, open, and allowed the crewman in, inspecting the plates over his shoulder. Will could not decide if the familiar action reminded him of a vulture or a mother hen. True that neither image really suited the strange captain. Perhaps that was why it was so comical.
The young blacksmith against the older pirates orders had propped himself up against the head of the bed, a small down pillow over his stomach in an attempt to smother the pain and several others wedged behind his lean form. Keeping him upright. His shirt had been discarded after the incident and another lay on the table waiting for him to don it. Currently however he enjoyed the cool breeze against his naked skin, wafting into the room through the large bay-eqsue windows, his damp locks now dread free and fluttering about his paled face. He did not comment on the quiet exchange of orders and news between the deckhand and his captain, his gaze turning to watch the water and waves. Filtered light flickered across the polished wood faintly, the storm clouds seeming to have faded and evaporated as the moments since his waking passed. The sun set was visible for the first time in almost a week, red and beautiful purples low in the sky. Turner felt calmed and soothed by the lovely sight, the display of colors and cool air leaving him quite content, all worries of injury and ailment momentarily forgotten.
Will had made a habit of watching the sun at the set of day, the breathtaking lights and rainbow of exquisite hues, a wonderful reward for his work. Before Elizabeth had passed, she and he often stole away in the early evenings, to the high hills just outside the main town of Port Royal. Watching the sights together with a wonderful picnic accompaniment. Content to be in one another's presence at such a beautiful moment. Perhaps in someway he was keeping her memory and that tradition alive.
A sad sort of smile of reverie crossed his thin lips a far off pang of loss gripping his heart. The door closed then, followed by the sound of foot steps receding from the quiet room. Returning to himself his chocolate orbs followed the sound, spying the wiry pirate inspecting the evening meal left for them. "Anything eatable?" Will questioned, an amused look replacing the disheartened one as Jack picked at the hastily prepared meal of cheeses, breads, and dried meats.
"Not really"
"Sounds delicious."
Dishing a smaller plate Sparrow handed it to the younger man before Will could even contemplate moving towards the table himself, bejeweled hands then quickly filling two mugs full of grog. The strange pirate all but pounced into the chair positioned next to the bed, feet immediately plopping upon the mattress, no care given as the motion rocked the bed. Will bit his tongue to staunch a wince but made no reply. Accepting the drink he hastily sipped the liquid instead. Looking over his own plate Will's stomach felt like it was doing summersaults in the pit of his belly; half starved. He could not remember the last time he had eaten. True the meal was not a feast, but it was more than he had had in days. Grasping a piece of bread he eagerly bit into the half moist roll, eyes rising to watch the captain.
Jack had one hand waving idly in the air, a large chunk of cheese clutched in his fingers as they swayed as if to music no one else could hear, the soft creaking of his chair meeting Will's ears as he rocked back and forth on its hind legs. "S' not bad I s'pose. Once ye get passed the dry bits... And... the chewy bits.. And the swallowing." He mumbled, inspecting the cheese with a strange distasteful look, an obviously over exaggerated shiver running through his body before grasping his mug and gulping down half the contents in one swig. " 'course the rum makes it consumable."
Will shook his head at the predictable comments, sipping his own watered down grog carefully so as not to aggravate his throat before continuing with his meal. Really the food wasn't all that bad. Jack was just being his overly dramatic usual self "Boozehound." A grin was his only reply.
The sun was all but gone now, and Jack paused his meal to light a few more candles in the room.
Leaning over the bed a flame flickered from his hand to snare the taper positioned upon the wall sconce directly above the younger man's head, bathing the other in soft flickering fragments of yellow and grey. The play of light as he retreated caught his eye as it caressed Will's bare forearm, noticing for the first time in their companionship a small dark mark half hidden in the darkness. The strange writing piqued his interest. He forwent returning to his seat, instead lowering slowly to the bedside eyes never leaving the object of his scrutiny. From what he could see the mark was unlike anything he had ever seen before. And certainly not in any language he recognized. But by god, it was oddly familiar.
"Jack?"
"Ye know, its Captain's prerogative to bestow 'is subordinate 'is first tattoo as a scallywag."
Will's brow furrowed before he noted the man's curious stare, glancing down at the strange black mark himself.
"Where'd you get that lad?"
"This?" Will straightened his arm, setting the meat he had been nibbling down, inspecting the brand himself with an odd chill. The fingers of his other hand reached unconsciously to trace the smooth surface. He felt a strange uneasiness swell in his belly at the discussion of the mark. Flashes of the fragmented dream returning to the forefront of his mind. He could not remember much. Nonetheless he had been effectively unsettled. Surely it was only a dream... Right?... "I don't know. I've had it... as long as I can remember... Why?"
"May I see?"
The young pirate blacksmith was confused by the man's curious behavior but did not question, extending his arm palm up towards the other man with a nod after only a small hesitation. Jacks hand curled around his wrist holding the colored flesh up slightly to the light, his own fingers tracing the strange flowing black pattern. The mark was centered directly in the middle of Will's inner forearm, small, perhaps no bigger then the size of a tiny ring. It was as black as pitch. Resembling a tattoo but it was not raised nor scored into the skin as they generally were. Nor was it a brand. It was simply there. As if the young man had been born with it written into his flesh.
"I've ne'er seen anythin' like it b'fore." Jack mumbled, tracing the strange pattern again entranced by the odd mark.
So lost was he in his puzzlement he missed the unsteady intake of breath from the man captured by his touch.
Will was shaking now. But he did not know why. A strange sensation was tingling up his arm from the contact, sending chills down his bare spine. Beads of sweat dotted his upper lip and high cheeks and he felt a strange almost vertigo rise in his stomach. But he did not feel sick. It was instead a weird deja vu sort of dizziness. "Its just a tattoo Jack..." a breathless whisper escaped, his dark cocoa eyes locked upon the man's fingers as they memorized the strange scrawl. A sharp sudden terrifyingly familiar burning sensation scorched his arm surrounding the mark, causing him to jump and yank his hand back, hugging the limb to his waist.
Will nearly doubled over as the jump sent a painful jolt ricocheting up his form blinding him with white hot pain. A faint moan escaped him, teeth clenching against the sensation trying to keep his reactions down, all the while hiding wide shocked eyes under a messy untamed curtain of hair.
"Lad.. Will are ye alright?"
Jack shifted closer, placing a hand against the boy's hunched back, a worried frown marring his hidden brow as he inspected his friend's crumpled body. The younger man concentrated, lowering his breathing, steadying the uneasy rhythm and the pounding in his ears. Trying hard to squash the strange fears, sensations, and worrying flitting through his muddled mind. Swallowing slowly as the pain settled to a bearable ache Will nodded uncurling from his crumbled position, releasing one last long breath before relaxing wearily back against the pile of down feather pillows. "I'm fine." He mumbled, though his arm stayed pressed against his stomach.
The elder pirate eyed him skeptically for a moment but did not push him, nodding in quiet compliance before shifting back to his seat, letting the conversation topic slip away. "Indeed.. Suit yerself." Dark kohl lined eyes returned to his forgotten plate, fingers pushing at the assorted foods before reaching for his mug, swallowing the remaining drink in one hardy gulp. Will also returned to his much needed dinner, timidly nibbling on a piece of cheese, eyes shamefully averted. He hoped the older pirate had not noticed his reaction to the touches. He was confused enough as it was about what had just happened. Concerning Jack would only make matters worse.
"Finish ye'r meal. Ye'll need yer strength back soon a spit."
"What?"
"Weren't ye planning on spending some time in town lad? Maybe find ye some pleasant company? I know fer a fact them wenches miss ye." Jack grinned that annoyingly sexual grin of his, eyeing the young man with a knowing look.
"Jack... You know I do not want any 'pleasurable company'." Will insisted, a dark frown marring his features as he turned to gaze out the blackened window. He could not stomach the thought of any woman or man for that matter touching him. No one save Elizabeth. Even now, with her gone, he could not accept the thought of any affection physical or not from another living creature. "William, it's by time ye started moving on boy. 'Olding onto the past like that... t'ain't healthy. And them girl's can do ye wonders on forgettin'"
"Jack please."
"Aye, aye... Think about it lad... Either way. Ye need yer strength. Got some big plans fer ye." The captain all but beamed evilly, eyes locked on the youth's face as he stole a piece of meat devouring it in record time. Will eyed him nervously for a moment before again looking away. Big plans if concocted by Jack usually meant one thing.
Trouble.
Will nodded idly, his gaze still turned and Jack simply shrugged, letting the boy sulk for the time being. Turning his own orbs to his now empty glass with a quiet longing he stood, fetching the bottle of rum upon the table; pouring himself another full glass. Sensing the movement the young pirate took the moment of privacy to glance at his still aching arm while the captain's back was turned. Cocoa eyes widened in surprise to find the darkened mark and surrounding area bright red, inflamed, and irritated. As if infected or burned by flame. Swallowing hard he quickly dipped his fingers in the mug of grog, biting his lip as he lathered the cool liquid across the aching flesh, fighting down a hiss.
He had no idea what was happening.
And it scared him.
To Be Continued…
Thank you very much to all of our loyal readers. We appreciate all of the helpful and kind reviews we've received so far, and hope to hear more from all of you. We also would like to thank Silver for offering her help with the editing of the story. However the position of beta is currently filled and under Toshi's charge. We apologize for the spelling and grammar errors in the first two chapters as we had not sorted this out yet, and we thank you for your interest. We hope everyone enjoyed this chapter as much as the last two and will continue to enjoy the chapters to come.