A/N: This chapter is a shout out to my girl Shell. Without her, I wouldn't have been able to write it at all! She supplied the idea. Thanks a million Shell!!
Chapter 8: Not Quite Alone
Will sat on the edge of the large cot, darkness enveloping the room as his hands cradled his head. A silent gurgling sound made him look up, the lamp light shining off his wet cheeks. Moving to the side of Emily's crib, he looked down at the tiny child with a small smile before lifting her to his bare chest.
"I know baby, I miss her too. But I promise that she'll be back soon." Her chubby hands pushed at him as she looked around the room for her mother. Large tears filled her eyes as she began to wail.
Will sighed as he rocked her gently and moved out into the hallway, making his way to the galley as he rifled around for her bottle. Placing the soft rubber into her mouth, she cried harder before knocking it down; glass shattering against the hard wood floor made Will jump back and slammed the back of his head against the cabinets. With a curse, he rubbed the knot with one hand as he held the infant against him.
A muffled laugh turned his attention to the door as Jack leaned against the frame. His arms across his chest as his white slightly dingy shirt hung open in the front.
"Problems, mate?" He asked, the large purple bruise on his jaw catching the light as he lifted the broom into his hands and swept the glass into a corner.
"Jack, I'm not in the mood for your antics. Shouldn't you be at the helm taking this ship to my wife?" He all but growled as Emily screamed into his ear.
Jack stepped forward and took the baby from his arms, her cries subsiding almost instantly as he swung her around.
"Gibbs is manning the helm, don't worry. As for Elizabeth, we're going to get her back. We always do, mate." He spoke as Emily's head lilted onto his shoulder, her thumb stuck between her lips and her eyes closing slowly.
"I'm sorry, Jack."
"For what?"
Will reached out a finger and poked the bruise that had formed from earlier that day. Jack pulled away quickly, hissing at the slight pain as he smacked the blacksmith's hand.
"No worries, mate, no worries."
They walked from the galley and placed the infant back into her crib before Will closed the door.
"Jack, who is Tavington? Obviously not a nobleman like I once thought."
"He's captain of a ship called the Lady England. He's about as bad as they can get mate."
"What does he want with Elizabeth? Or my father for that matter." Will pressed, seeing Jack turn his back to him and begin to fiddle with several things hanging from the walls of the hallway.
"I don't know."
"Jack…"
"I swear Will, I haven't a clue lad."
Will raised his fist again as he poked the un-bruised side of the pirate's prominent features with a dangerous glint in his eye. "Would you like a match Captain?"
Jack held his hands up defensively as he grabbed Will's arm before yanking him into his stay room.
"Read this mate." He handed the tattered scroll to the blacksmith as he plopped into his padded captain's chair, his legs coming up to prop atop the table.
Will read silently, his face becoming a clear and unreadable mask as he turned his eyes to Jack.
"Jack, he," he gulped quietly before bunching the fragile material in his fist. His soulful eyes caught the light and Jack visibly winced. ", He means to kill her."
"I wasn't going to tell you until we knew for sure she was safe. Your father owns that vial...he's 'ad it ever since I'd been marooned. Apparently he knew exactly what it was before any other man aboard, mate. A smart one, yer father."
Turning on his heel he left the room and went topside, wishing to be left alone with his thoughts as Jack sighed and closed the door behind the frustrated blacksmith.
Making his way to the small cabinet in the corner and lifted a rather large bottle of rum into his hands. Popping the cork quickly he down half before he hit the bed, keeping the bottle near by as his eyes focused on the ceiling.
* * *
Elizabeth awoke to rough hands grabbing the ties that bound her chaffed and swollen wrists. Her head throbbed as she tried to recall her surroundings. Her eyes focused on the light beaming from the doorway as a shorter but muscled young man's silhouette moved toward her. The small chattering monkey on his shoulder caught her attention and she hung her head silently, her long tresses framing her face as she stared at the wood paneling.
"Ah, you have awoken Mrs. Turner." He stated as he walked around her in a slow circle before coming to stand before her slight form.
"Seems a shame to have somfin aboard so nice cap'n; not puttin' it to good use." The man holding her breathed into her ear before the captain backhanded him, his body splaying out on the floor behind her.
"What do you wish for? Anything, any amount of money you shall have." Bootstrap's voice came from beside her and she turned to face the noble pirate.
"Leave her be, she has nothin' to do with our acquaintance Tavington." He snarled as the captain's fist connected with his stomach; a gush of air leaving his lungs in a rush as the muscled man behind him tightened his hold on the man's upper arms.
"You should have known not to return to Tortuga Bill. Things would have been much easier on you. All I asked for was the vial and you had to be difficult about it."
"You tried to kill me for it Jamison."
"And in turn you shot me." The captain returned, lifting the pistol from his side. The gunshot rang through the small cabin as Elizabeth screamed and slammed her eyes closed, a small sob leaving her lips as a younger and dirtier man entered the room in a flurry.
"Cap'n! Black sails….on the horizon Cap'n!"
Elizabeth felt her hands freed of the tight rope as they shoved her roughly to the ground, leaving the room with shouts and curses; the door being locked behind the last scallywag. Turning quickly she spotted Bootstrap's form against the wall next to her, hand across his chest as blood stained the front of his shirt crimson.
"Mr. Turner...." she sobbed as she crawled to the elder gentleman's side.
"I'll be alright little lass." His voice was raspier, blood staining his lips as he spoke in a hushed and ragged whisper.
"Shh…don't speak." She crooned, standing on shaking legs as she cradled her head in one hand, undoing the side of her dress with the other. Lifting the heavy material away from her; the chemise and white under-dress clung to her curves as she bunched the fabric together and placed it over the wound. Using the arms, she tied it tightly behind his back in an attempt to staunch the flow of blood that pulsed over her fingers as she examined the wound.
"My Will is a lucky lad, to have you for a wife Miss. Elizabeth." He said after a long silence, turning his head to face his daughter-in-law with half lidded eyes. His coffee colored eyes focused on her small form huddled next to him, her knees folded underneath her chin as she turned to face him, placing her cheek where her head previously rested.
A small smile covered her lips at the mention of her husband.
"I consider myself lucky Mr. Turner. I could not ask for a better man to have as my own. You....." She was cut off as cannon fire rang through the air, shaking the floor above them.
"What is it, what do you see?" Turner questioned as Elizabeth stood quickly, peering out of the small porthole across the room.
"Will…."
* * *
Author's Note: I apologize for the lateness of this chapter, I feel like a royal jerk making you guys wait so long. It's been a hectic schedule for me, and though I am online a lot, I'm also a royal slacker. Pardons to all, I promise to get it done soon.
~Jean~