Ocean Soul

Part 13 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

Revised January 18, 2008

Thirteen – some dialogue within directly from CotBP as heard and read in subtitles

            “All hope abandon ye who enter here,” Will murmured as he crept along the shadowed rock wall with Jack.

            The pirate captain glanced back at him with a frown, concern etched with his eyebrows. Will gave him a small smile of assurance; it was just a saying, after all, something from Elizabeth’s young imagination years ago when she talked about adventures on the high seas.

            As they continued deeper into the caves, Will could hear the sound of excited whooping and shouting. Jack scrambled up an incline of rock covered in gold coins; Will followed. Carefully he raised his head so that he could peek over the edge to look into a wide open cavern, piled high with gold, silver, and chests bursting with jewels. Water broke up the rock formations into little islands, all surrounding one gigantic mound in the approximate center of the cave.

            At the top of the mound Will had his first look at Barbossa. He was a tall, formidable-looking man dressed in a long, dark coat and a wide-brimmed hat with an extravagant feather curving along its dome. His hair hung in ragged strands to his shoulders; his beard tangled even worse. Pockmarks and scars decorated the man’s face. A decorated pistol handle stuck out from the sash and belt covering the man’s waist. The sword in the sheath at his side appeared to have been appropriated from someone of great wealth, given the filigree of the cage guard. On the man’s left shoulder sat a small, clothed monkey hunched over a glittering piece of gold clutched in its paws.

            “Gentlemen, the time has come! Our salvation is nigh!”

            Will marveled at the power the man wielded over his audience. Barbossa peppered his speech with grand and purposeful gesticulations; it reminded Will of a stage performance he had seen in his childhood on an outing with his mother’s family.

            “Our torment is near an end. For nigh ten years we’ve been tested an’ tried, an’ each man of you here has proved his mettle a hundred times over an’ a hundred times again! Punished we were, the lot of us. Disproportionate to our crimes! Every last piece that went astray we have slaved to return.”

            The monkey on his shoulder squawked noisily as it let three gold coins fall into the stone chest filled with the cursed treasure. “881 coins we found an’ need now only find the last,” crowed Barbossa. “An’ who among us has paid the blood sacrifice owed to the heathen gods?”

            Amid the chorus of cheers and shouts a handful of men fell silent and glanced suspiciously over the crowd and then back to Barbossa.

            “An’ ‘oose blood must yet be paid?” demanded an angry voice.

            “Good...” Will started in surprise to feel Jack’s murmur against his ear. “We’ve the last coin ‘n Barbossa’s welcome is wearin’ thin.”

            Turning his head slightly, Will attempted to read Jack’s expression from close up.

            “Any ideas?” Will whispered.

            The protests grew in number and volume beyond their golden shield.

            “Yeh brought us ‘ere for nothin’!”

            Barbossa snarled, “I won’t take questionin’ or second guesses from the likes of ye, Mister Twigg.”

            “Who’s t’ blame? Every decision you’ve made has led us from bad t’ worse!”

            “It was you ‘oo sent Bootstrap to th’ depths!”

            “And it’s you who brought us here in the first place!”

            Jack tugged at Will’s sleeve to lead him back into the stone maze. Just short of entering into the treasure cavern Jack halted abruptly. Leaning close to Will he hissed, “Wait for the opportune moment...” He pressed a firm kiss to the corner of Will’s lips before sneaking into the back of the crowd.

            “If any coward here dare challenge me, let him speak!” Barbossa shouted. Will’s fingers curved tightly around the familiar handle of the sword at his side. With his other hand he withdrew the pistol and hefted the butt of the weapon into the curve of his palm as he waited with bated breath.

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            “Lowered to pickin’ on yellowbellies? Tha’s a sorry sight, mate!” Jack’s voice carried over the crowd and its familiarity seemed to send a rush of confusion through the angry men.

            Barbossa’s eyes narrowed as he searched the crowd. “Who said that?” he demanded.

            “’Cuse me,” Jack said, firmly pushing his way through the sturdy ranks of his mutinous crew. “Pardon...”

            “Y-you! You’re s’posed ter be dead!” someone cried, pointing incredulously as Jack made his first step into an open gap in the crowd.

            Frowning, the pirate captain looked down at himself and picked at his clothes. Looking back up, he met the other’s gaze. “Am I no’? Well, then...” he turned as if to go.

            “Bring him here!” Barbossa shouted, his sword drawn and pointing to Jack.

            Jack fended off the hands reaching to grab him. “Easy, lads, I can walk by me onesies.”

            “How the blazes did you get off that island?” Barbossa growled as Jack approached with a handful of crewmembers standing nearby with their weapons drawn.

            Smiling brilliantly, allowing the light of the torches to glint off his gold teeth, Jack replied, “You forgot somethin’ important when you left me there.” He made a scolding sound with his tongue and shook his head in disappointment.

            “What was that?” Barbossa prompted with clear impatience.

            “Why, I’m Capt’n Jack Sparrow!”

            Rolling his eyes dramatically, Barbossa announced to the group at large, “I won’t be making that mistake again! Gents, ye all remember Capt’n Jack Sparrow!” A rowdy chorus of affirmative growls seemed to shake the very walls of the cavern. “Kill him,” Barbossa ordered, bored.

            “You’d not be wantin’ to do tha’!” Jack exclaimed, carefully pushing the knife near his throat away with one hand.

            “Oh, I think I do,” Barbossa assured, eyes narrowing as he prepared to skewer the man with his sword.

            “No, I really don’t think so.” Jack somehow managed to step closer without being poked and in a lowered voice confided, “There’s still blood to be paid, ain’t there.”

            Barbossa drew close and hissed, “Not yers, so I can spill yer guts anywhere I like.” Something in Jack’s glittering dark eyes stayed his hand. He growled, “Ye know whose blood we need.”

            Jack’s smile spread slowly until he reflected the spitting image of a cat who’d gotten into the creamery. “I know whose blood you need.”

            Barbossa cast a searing glare over Jack, his hatred of the man coming off in waves. But Barbossa knew how to keep in check such emotions in order to secure his goals, and at the moment Jack had information that he wanted. Although that didn’t mean that he would simply let Jack take control. Smiling cruelly at his former captain, Barbossa ordered his men still gathered below,

            “Gents, take a walk. Show ol’ Jack’s new mates a good time.”

            Jack looked perplexed as he watched the men start to move as directed. “Y’know,” he remarked, turning slightly to Barbossa, “it migh’ not be in yer best interests to go out reckless like. I migh’ ‘ave the one you need aboard.”

            Barbossa studied him for a few moments, then barked, “Take ‘em all alive!” Returning to Jack, he sneered, “Now pray tell, wha’ did ye bring us?”

            Seemingly impossible to frighten, Jack merely beamed and practically bounced to the open chest of Aztec gold like a child investigating a new plaything.

            “This ‘ere is wha’s caused all the trouble? Why, Barbossa, what harmless-looking trinkets.” He grabbed a handful, clinking them together and then dropping them one by one back into the chest as he continued to chatter, “Really, I must thank you. Droppin’ me by me onesies on that lovely lil’ isle got me out of partakin’ in yer curse. What a shame. Ironic, innit? You dump me ‘n I come back...” He grinned. “An’ I ‘ave yer cure.”

            “Ye have the child. Where’s the gold?”

            Jack strolled around the chest, his fingers still playing with the pieces. “Oh, there is that...”

            Barbossa clenched his fingers tightly into fists to keep from strangling the man before him. Suddenly the monkey on his shoulder started screeching and pointed across the cavern. He turned quickly and caught sight of a white shirtsleeve as someone ducked back around a rock.

            “Get that!” he shouted to Twigg and his companion standing idly nearby. Barbossa jerked his thumb towards Jack, indicating that the other two remaining crewmen should keep a close eye on Jack.

            “Unhand me you lily-livered...”

            “What’s this, Jack?” Barbossa scolded, tone condescending as his men dragged forward a slim young man. His malicious smile grew when he saw a flicker of worry in the dark eyes of the pirate poised by the cursed chest.

            “Cabin boy,” Jack bit back, playing with a smirk of his own. “Bi’ ‘ard of hearin’ regardin’ orders.”

            Barbossa chuckled darkly as he had his men bring the boy up the mound of gold. He lightly drew the tip of his sword along a path from chin to beltline. “Well, Jack, ye always did have an eye for the beauts.”

            From the corner of his eye he could see Jack tense. Barbossa sheathed his sword and stepped into the boy’s personal space and grabbed his chin. His lips parted in a threatening smile as he looked the boy over and roughly patted his free hand along the body as if inspecting a horse.

            “An’ does ‘ee warm yer bed, Jack?” Barbossa asked with a poisoned lilt. His eyes never strayed from the boy’s face, which had drained of all color. The warm brown irises nearly disappeared with the largely dilated pupils now fixed on him in fear. Something about the young man’s features seemed familiar...

            The clash of swords and shifting treasure startled Barbossa. As he turned, the prisoner abruptly brought his knee up hard into the pirate’s groin, throwing the tall man off balance and sending him rolling down the opposite side of the mound.

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TBC

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