A Pleasant Holliday?

A Pleasant Holiday – by Hellborne
Pirates of the Caribbean – Slash: Norrington/Jack, Will/Norrington/Jack, Will/Jack, Elizabeth/Anamaria (implied).
NC-17

Copyright: Characters, not mine, see the mouse. Story, mine, but I make no money. He does, but not on this.

Typing convention: / and * are used for thoughts. * is used for COMMODORE Norrington exclusively, and / is used for the softer James Norrington and for everyone else. Don’t ask…just read and you’ll understand.

Beta: Now beta’d by my most perfect and wonderful Pendragginink! Hail to thee, oh modest and humble goddess of betadom!

Summary: Commodore Norrington is on holiday, and finds that Jack Sparrow has gotten himself in trouble again. Torture, Violence, Lemon, Slash, Angst.

NOTE: I'm a Review Whore and a Fire Eater, so bring on the reviews and flames! I have a pet muse and a pet demon, so if you don’t review I’ll sick my demon on you…

* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *

Chapter 11 – Guilt and Atonement

Commodore Norrington walked to his quarters feeling rather pleased with himself. He’d actually had the courage to tell Gillette and his other officers that he was taking the rest of the day off, and that if they needed him for anything short of the second coming of Christ, to feel free to jump off the fort. He started to announce himself, then noticed the state of the bedroom door. It appeared to have been broken inward by a battering ram, as it was ripped open, its hinges laying open in the air.

He stepped outside for only a moment to take gun and sword from the guard, then walked warily into the parlor. The chair had been knocked over, and there was a tiny bottle lying on the floor, but no bodies or attackers. He moved toward the bedroom, looked in and gasped.

Will Turner was on the floor, unconscious. He knew that he wasn’t dead only because of the rise and fall of the boy’s chest. There was blood and semen all over him, and what appeared to be fingernail scratches abounding on his face and neck. He appeared to have been raped, as there was a great deal of semen and blood at the opening to his ass. His head sported two good-sized lumps, one of which he recognized from earlier. There was a small pool of blood under his head.

Jack Sparrow was further inside, crumpled in a heap near the foot of the bed. There was blood obvious under his fingernails as there was so much of it, and more blood all over his right hand, all the way to the wrist. There was a pool of blood under his head. His breathing was fast and shallow, but he was alive.

He rushed to Will’s side first, since he was closer and he wanted a straight story as to what had happened, and knowing Jack, he’d never get one from him. “Will…Mr. Turner. Wake up please.” He shook him gently, then picked him up and put him on the bed. “William.”

Will came to slowly, his eyes not focusing very well. He remembered passing out near the door, but it was too soft to be floor under his back. He knew the voice trying to wake him though. “James?” His voice was hoarse, his throat very sore.

“Yes Will. Tell me what happened here. Who attacked you? The guard told me nothing of an intruder…did they come in the window?”

“No…” Will finally focused on James’ face. “I made a mistake. It’s my fault. Take care of Jack…I think I hurt him.” It hurt to talk.

“Jack did this to you?” Norrington watched him, eyes hooded.

“Yes, but it was –“

James marched over to Jack’s still form and lifted him up and depositing him on the other side of the bed. He examined his fingernails closely. “He clawed you?”

“Yes…”

He turned Will over on his stomach and examined his butt. “He forced entry with something large enough to tear you open. This is something that the doctor must look at.”

“That explains the pain then.” Will turned over slowly, trying not to cry out from the pain in his ass.

Norrington shook his head. “Did he wish to leave so badly that he could do all of this to you before you could subdue him?”

“No! No!” He clutched his throat. “That wasn’t it at all. Like I said, it was my fault.”

“Victims of such violence often blame themselves. I’ve run across it before.”

“No I say!” He shouted it hoarsely, and immediately wished he hadn’t shouted it.

Norrington looked at him, one eyebrow raised.

“Jack had me bring a bottle back with me from the Pearl when I picked up his effects. The bottle had an oil in it, and…” He sighed. “I didn’t know it would do that! It never did that to me!” He began to weep. “I used it on him. I knew I shouldn’t, but I did it anyway! And now he’ll hate me!”

James pulled him up to him, holding him as Will clutched him back. “Mr. Turner, I have it on good authority that Captain Sparrow holds you in very high esteem. I sincerely doubt that a single mistake on your part could possibly change his feelings toward you.” He held his face, looking intently into Will’s eyes. “He loves you, young William, and there is nothing in heaven or earth that will change that.” He kissed him gently on his forehead, trying to miss the swelling. “Now let me get the doctor.” He walked to the front door and out.

Only a minute later, he returned, sans weapons. He walked over to Jack and examined him. “He’s alive, but I don’t like his breathing. Is that part of what the oil you used on him does?”

“Yes. I just hope he’s himself when he comes to. The oil seemed to give him more strength than I’ve ever seen in a man. He broke down your door with his bare hands.”

The doctor knocked and walked in, carefully stepping over the ruins of the door. He saw Jack and moved over to him, examining his breathing and his head. He held open one of the pirate’s eyelids and tsk’d. “What drug has this man been given?”

Will blushed, embarrassed. “I’m not sure of the name of it. The bottle is under the couch in the parlor.” James left and returned quickly with the bottle and gave it to the doctor, who had started examining Will’s throat.

He felt the lump on Jack’s head, and brought his hand away, bloody. “This will have to be stitched. He’s lucky, Commodore. His skull is harder than the weapon that struck him.”

The doctor moved around the bed to look at Will. He first looked at his head, shaking disapproval. “You two MUST learn to get along.” He examined the wounds on Will’s face and neck. “Nothing too deep, thankfully.” He pulled some salve out of his bag and administered it to the scratches. Will grunted with the initial sting, but didn’t move. “You’ll have to apply this to the scratches every evening and every morning till they heal. They won’t scar if you do that. Your voice will come back eventually.” He looked at Will’s right wrist, which he declared broken. He wrapped it tightly and told him to re-wrap it whenever the bindings loosened for the next month.

James helped Will to roll over, and the doctor examined the damages. “You’ve been ripped apart, young man. It’s going to need stitching.” Will groaned into the pillow, trying not to move or die of embarrassment. The doctor pulled needle and thread from his bag, along with a bottle. “Would you like to not feel this? Many would rather die than have me stitch this area.”

Will thought about it, blushing. He turned slightly, so that he could be heard. “I’m brave enough, I think, but you’re right. Anywhere else I wouldn’t worry about, but I don’t want to know what you’re doing back there.”

The doctor nodded. He opened the bottle and poured a little bit into a cloth. “You won’t feel a thing.” He held the cloth to Will’s nose, and Will breathed deeply.

The doctor heard a muffled “this stuff smells awf…” as Will succumbed to the effects of the ether. James held Will’s hand as the doctor stitched him up.

As soon as he was finished, he moved back to Jack and started moving the braids apart so that he could sew him up. On the first stitch, Jack groaned. His breathing was still fast and shallow, but it seemed a bit better. He opened his eyes and immediately shut them again. “Commodore, me head ‘urts.”

“And it’s about to be stitched closed, so let the doctor work.” James walked around and took Jack’s hand in his.

“All right. Give me a bottle of rum and we’ll discuss it.”

The doctor shook his head. “No, Captain. No alcohol for you until that drug wears off.”

“Drug? Izzat why I feel so dizzy?”

“No, you feel dizzy because you were hit in the head, which I am trying to stitch so that you don’t go bleeding all over the Commodore’s quarters again.”

“Oh.” He opened one eye. “All righ’, Doctor. Stab me with your damned needles. I’ve felt like woman’s needlework afore.” The doctor continued stitching. Jack’s vision fell across the bed to Will’s still form. “Wha’s wrong wi’ Will?”

Norrington looked at him. “You don’t remember? You beat him senseless.”

Jack sat up, both eyes wide, the room reeling. “Will is hurt? And I did it?” He looked down on Will’s back and backside. His eyes narrowed. “I did that? Tore ‘im open like that?!”

Norrington watched him closely. “Yes. But you were drugged.”

Jack leaned over Will, started stroking his hair, kissing him lightly on the back of his shoulder. “I did that.” He sat up a bit. “What else did I do to him?”

The doctor backed up a step. “He’ll heal. There is no permanent damage that I could see. But try to keep him from speaking too much.”

Jack blanched. “Tell me. Please. What did I do to the lad?” He turned to Norrington. “Tell me now!”

“Jack, you couldn’t help yourself. You had some of whatever was in the bottle you had Will bring from the Pearl.”

Jack leaned against James and wept. “I coulda killed the boy, James! How in Satan’s bedeviled petticoats did I get any of that stuff in me?”

James looked at the pirate, accusingly. “Why did you have him bring it?”

Jack looked up at his face, his sobs subsiding. “It’s not what it looks like, James. I know what too much of that oil can do to a man. I also know what the right amount does. I did not have the right amount, since I can’t remember anything about it, and Young William is injured by my hand.” Jack broke away and started to examine Will, turning him over and gasping at the marks all over Will’s face and neck.

He sat up completely. “Doctor, are you finished with my head?”

The doctor cut the thread away from Jack’s head. “Yes.”

“Then Commodore, I shall need my effects.”

Norrington started. “WHAT? What about young Mr. Turner?”

“Wha’ about ‘im? I can’ bear to imagine of what he thinks o’ me. I must ha’e seemed like a monster to ‘im. He’ll never forgive me.”

James rolled his eyes. “My dear Captain Sparrow, Mr. Turner is the one who gave you the drug. He’s afraid that you will never forgive HIM. Now please do not do anything stupid like trying to run away. I haven’t given you your papers yet, so you wouldn’t get past that door without me.”

Jack looked at him, his expression incalculable.

Next to him on the bed, Will began to stir. He opened his eyes and closed them fast. Then he opened one eye and looked at Jack. “Can you ever forgive me?”

Jack noticed how hoarse Will’s voice was. “Lad, can ye’ ever forgive ME? I’m the monster wot done all this to ye. I can’t even bring ye back to the Pearl lookin’ like that. They’ll mutiny if they see your face like this and think I did it.”

James grinned. “Then Captain Sparrow, perhaps you would agree to be my guest a little longer?”

“With a guard outside the door, slave papers wi’ my description on ‘em and not a stitch o’ clothes in the room so I won’t try to leave out of embarrassment, and you call me your guest? I’ve a mind to walk to the Pearl LIKE THIS and hell take your guard and papers.”

James’ face drooped along with his shoulders. “Bu—“

The doctor cleared his throat loudly. Everyone looked at him. “If you will excuse me for interrupting this little lovers’ spat, I’d like to make something obvious to anyone listening to you apparent to you all. Captain Sparrow, you are a proud man. You cannot abide depending on anyone. You consider yourself above such things. You are, however, quite dependent on Mr. Turner. Without him you would pine away on your ship despite your love for her, wishing he were there with you. Am I correct?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Mr. Turner, you are a proud and courageous man. You have commanded the Black Pearl for two months while her captain has been presumed dead, and from a pirate’s point of view, you have done an admirable job.” Norrington glared at him. “Your love, however, has nothing to do with that ship like Captain Sparrow’s. You ran that ship as you believed HE would have run it. The stories from other cities about the Black Pearl are that it’s being run by the Ghost of Captain Sparrow, as a rumor of his demise has settled around the islands. While he is alive you will not be able to live without him. Am I correct?”

“Yes.”

Excellent. Commodore Norrington, it is my duty to inform you that you are lax in your duties. Your officers are getting anxious about your health. Since your return from holiday in St. Kitts you have been moody to say the least. You have allowed your mood to affect your military demeanor. Two weeks ago, this improved, and has been improving substantially until today, when, for the first time in your career here at Port Royal, you have told your officers that you would not be available for the afternoon, without a word as to why. Commodore, you have been chasing Captain Sparrow since the day he escaped from the gallows. Not to hang him, though you so naively believed so until you found him, but because you have feelings for him. I don’t believe that you knew what kind of feelings you had until two weeks ago, and you are only secure in those feelings as of today, which is why you asked me to hold him here for two more days. You love him. Am I correct?”

“Yes, damn it.”

“Captain Sparrow, do you have any feelings for the Commodore? Be honest if you are capable of the concept.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Yes. Gratitude, a bit o’ hurt, actually. I mean…he’s got a guard on me door and keeps me here without my leave.”

The doctor prodded. “Out of love, perhaps?”

“All right. I can see that…p’r’aps.”

“Mr. Turner. Do you have any feelings for the Commodore?”

“Yes, I do. He’s a fine man, and saved my captain from death. I’ll always be grateful to him for that. But yes, since I arrived to help take care of Jack, I’ve grown used to him being around. I wouldn’t call it love exactly, but more like contentment.”

Jack snorted. “Lad, ye got your words mixed up. Feelin’ contentment around a person IS love. Or at least a big part of it. Beddin’ a man or woman has nothin’ t’do with love, boy, though they can act together to make the act a damn sight bettah.”

The doctor smiled. “Then here are my orders to you. All THREE of you. Commodore, you are relieved of duty for three days. I do not want to hear a word of you outside of this room until then. Captain, you are to remain here for three days as well. I shall look in on your head in the evenings, but I don’t foresee any problems there. Mr. Turner, I shall look in on you at the same time that I look at the Captain’s head. I want you to stay in bed so that the stitches don’t rip. Do not use your hand at all, and it will heal faster. I shall have some more furniture brought in here, along with any missing clothing that I find. And,” he said, looking pointedly at Jack, “NO MORE THROWING THINGS.” With that, he turned and walked out of the Commodore’s quarters, grinning.

Jack looked at Norrington. “What’s wi’ ‘im?”

“He is the physician for the fort. Nothing surprises him, and I daresay that I have brought him my troubles in the past, as has Captain Gillette, and I’m sure several others. He is very discreet with people’s secrets.”

Will looked at him. “Commodore, why have you not been seeing Captain Gillette since you brought Jack back? He told me that you had left him for Jack.”

James looked embarrassed. “Jonathan is a good man. He and I have been together almost since he arrived at the fort. This is the longest amount of time that I’ve been away from him.” He grinned. “However, once you two are back at your ship, I suspect that life here at the fort will return to normal.”

Shortly thereafter, the guard brought clothes in for the two pirates, and the “three prisoners,” as the officers started calling them, were moved out of Commodore Norrington’s quarters temporarily while the rooms were completely re-furnished.

When they returned, the front room contained two couches instead of a couch and a chair, along with a new coffee table between the two couches. The desk had been left, but its chair had been replaced by a sturdier version. The bedroom door had been replaced completely, and the men were amazed at the bedroom. There were now only two objects in the bedroom. The vanity was still there, though a new chair and mirror had been brought in for it. The chests that the Commodore had kept many of his personal effects in had been moved out. Now, filling the room, was the single largest bed that the Commodore had ever seen. It was definitely large enough for all three men with room to spare.

“No more sleepin’ on the floor, eh mate?” Jack threw himself onto the bed, and was fairly swallowed by it. The bed spoke, albeit muffled. “Feathers! Oh good!” He crawled out of the bedding that had threatened to suffocate him. He and James helped remove Will’s boots and place him gently into the center of the bed, propping him up with plenty of pillows, not wanting to rip any stitches.

Will smiled, resting his right arm across his stomach. “Just what the doctor ordered. Nothing will rip while I’m in this bed. I’ve never felt anything like it.”

Jack sat down on the bed, next to Will. He removed his boots and socks, and dumped them next to the bed in the corner. His jacket followed quickly, and he leaned over him, tickling at his vest. Don’ be tryin’ t’get out of bed without help, love, or you’ll wish you didn’t. It’s hard work getting’ out o’the middle of one of these. Now get some sleep. I want you healed fast, love.” He placed the huge comforter over Will, and lay down next to him, using Will’s shoulder as a pillow.

James looked at them. “I’ll just get out of your way, then. I have something that needs to be done anyway.” He left the bedroom, leaving Jack and Will completely confused.

* - * - *

TBC

While muse and demon volley for position, let us take bets on which one will win. Let's face it, I don't know either!