Ocean Soul
Part 12 of 18
By Clarity Scifiroots
Standard disclaimers apply. This AU plot rules parallel to the first movie but isn’t quite the same. By a fan, for fans.
Rating: Ranges from Teen to Adult/Mature.
Pairing: Jack/Will
Summary: An AU tale that weaves a rather bleak past for one Will Turner. When the young blacksmith apprentice stows away on the Interceptor to get away from abuse, he didn't expect it to be taken over by pirates led by the notorious Jack Sparrow.
Warnings: Sexual harassment, abuse, and recovery from such
Edited: January 18, 2008
Twelve
He could definitely get used to this, Jack decided the following morning. His lips turned up in a smile as Will brushed butterfly kisses over his face and neck, so charmingly sweet and innocent that it made the action that much better than any orgasm. The younger man snuggled tightly against Jack’s side, one arm slung over the pirate’s chest and his fingers toying with the ends of black dreadlocks.
A perfect way to begin a day, truly.
For once, Fate decided not to play the cruel trick of inopportune timing and allowed the blossoming couple a good hour in bed without interruption. Soft murmurs of conversation occasionally rose to break the stillness of the air, but most of the time went by with gentle caressing one another’s bodies, exploring silently the planes of unfamiliar flesh. In short time, one would be the skilled navigator of the map of the other. An outside observer, if able to follow the history of both men, would be able to see the incredible possibilities further bonding would lead to.
When finally they dressed and exited the cabin to face the Caribbean sun in full, there was no shame, no redness of cheeks, nor avoidance of eyes. It somehow seemed the most natural thing to have the new crewmember and the captain exiting the same cabin that they had entered the prior night. No crude comments or jokes passed about either aloud or in whispers; there was nothing to poke fun at. Something simply beautiful in the energy that surrounded the two when they stood close lent a sense of calm to an observer.
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“Capt’n!”
“Aye?” Jack raised a hand to shade his eyes against the setting sun as he looked up at the man perched high in the ropes about the main mast.
“Ana’s sig’lin’ from shore – they’re ‘ere!”
The announcement added a chill of anticipation to the air. Will’s head jerked up with the call, and he quickly turned to face Jack. The pirate captain had stilled, as if needing time to let the information sink in.
He looked to Will first. When their eyes met, Will felt a block of ice settle in his stomach.
Don’t look like that, he begged. Don’t show me dread, don’t show regret. He needed Jack’s strength most of all, to see the flaws now seemed almost too much to bear.
As if receiving the message, Jack turned away, breaking eye contact completely as he started shouting orders.
“This is it, mates! Prepare the boats. You three, remain on board. You know the plan. Will, come with me.”
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“Wha’ experience have you with a gun, luv?”
Will turned the pistol over in his hands, intelligent eyes taking in each curve and minute detail. “Not much, only what Ana and Marty had time to show me,” he answered. Slowly he raised his gaze to look Jack in the eye. “I’m skilled with the blade.”
Jack nodded, turning to a wooden chest where he had placed Will’s creations the day he’d been discovered. He’d seen the lad practicing by himself on deck and the occasional spar with one of the crew.
“Take yer sword and keep the pistol. Lookin’ threatenin’ may do well enough.”
Will accepted the blade silently, but the gentle caress he ran over the flat of the blade proved that he had missed the quality of such craftsmanship.
-----
“What are your plans?” Will asked quietly as Jack rowed them towards the entrance to a set of caves. He busied himself lighting the lantern they would soon need, avoiding any potential looks the pirate cast him. He didn’t want to admit to the chill of apprehension that crawled through his veins, filling every inch of his body with anxiety.
“Le’ me ‘andle it, luv. You jus’ keep yer mouth shut ‘n don’ do anything... stupid.”
Will’s lips twitched upwards at the latter, and he raised his eyes momentarily to take in Jack’s profile.
“Alright,” he murmured.
Jack caught his gaze. “Do you trust me?”
Without hesitation, “Yes.”
The lantern soon became their only source of light as they passed into the rocky cavern.
They kept silent in the ensuing boat ride through the caves. Will’s wide eyes took in the shimmering gold, silver, and jewels decorating the bottom of the shallow water, piling over long-decayed skeletons. Jack watched the younger man with a smile.
A short time later they found the rowboats of the Pearl, beached on a small, sand-covered stone shelf. Will got out to help pull their boat into place. They stood still for a few moments, water up to their ankles, staring at one another. Unease lurked behind Jack’s usually cocky expression; Will’s fear appeared a little more obviously. With only a miniscule twitch for preamble, their arms locked around one another and lips met wildly, desperately. Who had initiated the impassioned kiss couldn’t be discerned.
Will pulled back first, gasping quietly, eyes closed. He nestled his face against Jack’s neck. “Let’s finish this,” he whispered, lips brushing over tanned skin.
A weak chuckle escaped the pirate’s lips as he caressed the back of the younger man’s head. “Aye. ‘N then we’re pickin’ up where we left off.”
Will grinned.
-----
Barbossa was an exceptionally shady character amongst a group renowned as thieves, rapists, and murderers. Efficiently manipulative with his knowledge of human nature, it hadn’t been especially difficult to undermine “Captain” Jack Sparrow’s authority on the Black Pearl a decade ago. Power and control fell into his skeletal, greedy hands and he held it with a firm grasp – tight enough to keep his power stable, but not so tight as to let it slip away.
Despite his innumerable devilish qualities, it must be said that the man had a good head. For years he had kept a crew of cursed men in line, without even an attempt at mutiny (although, admittedly, he rid himself of competition early, immediately after marooning Jack). He had been the one who puzzled through the particulars of the curse plaguing the crew’s dark souls, and he who set to work quickly on bringing about the end of the spell.
For years the crew followed the calling of blood money haunting the pockets of innkeepers, bodices of whores, and the purses of upstanding gentlemen. Wherever the Pearl went, a bloody trail of wreckage followed. Through it all, the crew followed enthusiastically, roaring war cries as they descended upon their victims in search of profit along with the small pieces of coin that would aid in freeing their souls.
Yet all along the problem concerning one former crewmember who had met a watery end soon after the appropriation of cursed treasure remained. Bootstrap Bill Turner had a change of heart a couple weeks following the mutiny. He had only temporarily been enchanted by the dangerous seduction Barbossa wove. To his former wife – years past he had sent back his rings to her – he slipped a coin and a note. It had been mere instinct that had made him do so, and the pirates sealed their own fate. The coin lost itself in the wealthy society of London, far from the senses of Caribbean pirates. And they were one man short to pay his blood debt – the only crewmember who hadn’t. But what could they do? The ocean had long kept Bootstrap in her belly and un-dead or not, he stayed far beyond their reach in her depths.
In any case, this little problem lingered underneath more immediate lusts for the majority of the crew, only Barbossa concerned himself over the matter constantly. He knew that when it came time for the last coin to be returned, there would be hell to pay, and so he prepared himself over the years for his retaliation against the accusations that would come.
It just so happened that during the Interceptor’s wait for the damned crew, the second to last coin had been retrieved. The Pearl’s crew gathered once again at Isla de Muerta, offering back to the so-called “heathen” gods three gold coins.
One left.
Barbossa knew he would be facing the hounds of Hell that day once the crew realized that only one coin remained. Demands of blood pay would again come into question. However, a plan had begun developing in his conniving mind, and it concerned Turner’s family, abandoned in London. Bill had been a social fellow, openly recalling tales of a romantic life with a lass he had ended up marrying. While the rings had been returned, a child had yet lived. That would have to do.
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TBC
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