Power of the Sparrow

http-equiv="content-type">



http-equiv="content-type">

 Title:
Time
and Time Again

Author: Hellborne (the_ferret_mom@yahoo.com)

Disclaimer: Characters, if you saw them in the movie
or if they're real people, not mine. See the Mouse and the Real People.
Story, mine, but I make no money. He does, but not on this.

Typing convention: / is used for thoughts. * - * - *
is used for scene changes and passages of time.

Summary: Will gives Jack a birthday present.
Unfortunately, it's cursed. J/W, O/J.

Warnings: Torture, N/C, SMBD, slash, H/C, angst,
lemon, major sadomasochism.

Betas: The two greatest BetaGoddesses in the world,
Pendragginink and Littlebird! You're both truly magnificent, and I
wouldn't be able to write half as well without you!

Admin Note:  As you know, Hellborne has
passed away, but the follow had been given to her Beta's and we wanted
to make sure we could share as much of her insight into the story with
you, her readers!

Chapter 19:  His Holiness, the Pirate?

Bill bent down and kissed Jack's forehead, noticing that the tenuous
smile did not reach the pirate's pain-filled eyes. "Thanks only to my
son's quick thinking. Pearl was intent on keeping you, Jack, so she
held the darkness at bay thinking to kill you and bring you to her."

"I stabbed her with my silver dagger, Jack."

"Aye, he did." Bill puffed his chest slightly, proud of his son's
bravery. Will blushed immediately, basking in the praise obvious in his
father's tone, then frowned, instantly alert and fearing convulsions as
Jack suddenly pulled his lips back from his teeth and began making
small jerking movements that shook the bed; Jack made no sound, but his
eyes sparkled.

Will then realized that Jack could read the emotions of the two Turners
like a book; the silent shaking was as close to laughing as the
suffering pirate could get. Will sank to the floor, resting his
forehead on the bunk, his strength drained as relief washed over him;
fighting to stay conscious, Will concentrated on listening as his
father continued giving Jack the details of Pearl's treachery.

"...melted into the deck, but she tagged him on the arm with her
hellish blade." Will felt a comforting hand placed on the back of his
head, but whether it was his father's or Jack's, he couldn't say. "We
need to get the boy to a priest straight away, Jack. His arm must be
bathed in Holy water within three days or he'll die and his soul will
be damned."

Jack relaxed and patted Will's head. "'s that all y' need? Holy water?
No worries then. Holy water's easy."

"Now don't tell me you have some on board?" Bill was genuinely
surprised. Will snorted. If there was anyone who would have Holy water
on board a pirate ship, it was Captain Jack Sparrow.

"Only a small vial, but I learned how to make it when I was a boy."

"But it must be blessed by a holy man."

"You forget, Bill. I WAS a holy man...one in training, anyway, in a

Coptic monastery on the northern coast of Africa before I became a
pirate."

Will could believe it. /I'll have to get the story out of Jack later,
if there IS a later./ Will's breath hitched; being one-handed didn't
bother him as much as thinking about life without Jack; he had not yet
quite disgested the fact his OWN life could be in danger.

"I used to make Holy water by the gallon for the monks, blessings 'n'
all, and the priests would use it in the rituals. No need, really, for
a clergyman to do the blessing. It just needs t' be a man wot believes
in its healin' powers, and I do. And after all I've seen on this trip
ALONE, I have no doubts in my mind whatsoever that it can heal
anything. I'll need a barrel of good fresh water and some salt, Bill.
That's all."

Will lifted his head, looking over at Jack, incredulous. "That's all?

Just salt? Not a Bible? Or...anything?" It all seemed too simple.

Jack made a rasping sound that would ordinarily have been a
burst  of delighted laughter, his irregular breathing having
progressed to a slight wheeze, but the effort caused a coughing fit
that wracked his body. Will was instantly there, cradling Jack, rocking
him, soothing him until the coughing stopped. Bill nudged Will's elbow,
offering a cup of water. But Will, instead, looked pointedly at the
cabinet where Jack kept his rum supply. Bill grinned and patted Will's
shoulder in agreement. There were times for water, and times when only
rum would do. Halfway to the cabinet, Bill was met by Norrington who
shoved a full rum bottle into his hands while scowling at the doctor,
shooting him his fiercest midshipman-eating glare, the look in his eye
indicating the Commodore would brook no argument. The doctor merely
shrugged.

Exhausted, Jack lay supine, his head thrown back, eyes closed, and
sighed softly as Will gently sponged off his face, neck and chest with
a cool cloth, wiping off the sweat brought on by the exhausting effort
and pain of coughing. Bill was halted for a second, overcome at the
sight of them. /God in Heaven, they are beautiful this way.

Moving to Will's side, Bill handed off the bottle of rum, then stepped
to the head of the bunk. In silent accord, the two men worked as one to
being succor to the third. While his father gently lifted Jack,
bringing him up slowly, Will saw that Jack was also making determined
efforts to raise his head. Will removed the cork from the bottle with
his teeth, smiling wryly that, being one-handed, there was no other way
for him to do it, and knowing that the gesture made him look even more
than ever like a pirate, and he cared not one jot. /Hmm. This might not
be as hard to get used to as I thought./

Seeing him, Jack grinned and tried again to raise up on his own; a wave
of pain, badly hidden, washing over his face. Holding the bottle to
Jack's lips, Will admonished his stubborn lover. "Don't try to help,
Jack, we'll do the work. You have only to swallow." Father and son
locked eyes, concerned as Jack was able to take only a small sip, for
which he was nevertheless grateful. /Fine lot this is, the one time
they let me have rum, I'm too weak to take advantage of it.

Still, I appreciate the gesture and all./

Jack forced himself to take a second sip, and then a third just to make
Bill and Will feel better. When it was clear he would take no more,
Will corked the bottle and taking Jack from his father's arms, gently
settled the pirate on the pillows again, resting his forehead on Jack's
for a moment. Not because Jack needed the contact, but because he
himself did. When Will moved back, Jack opened his eyes.

"Ah, my young William!" Bill's eyes filled with happiness as he watched
his son and former lover together. Jack's words were few and neutral
enough, but his eyes spoke volumes. Neither Jack nor Will noticed
Bill's tears, what with Will drinking in the sight of Jack

and Jack having eyes only for Will while continuing his recitation of
his experience with Holy water.

"The salt purifies the water for the blessing that follows. As to a
Bible, won't be needing one; I know the ritual by heart." He reached
above his head, the effort of lifting his arm being almost too much,
but he batted their hands away as they tried to help and opened a
drawer in the headboard, searched the contents briefly, pulling out a
black velvet bag. He uncovered a glass vial that glowed brightly, as if
with the morning light of the First Day. "I made that Holy water a
couple years ago. If I do the ritual correctly, a barrel will no

doubt nearly blind us with its glowing light when it's ready."

Bill turned and left the cabin quickly, heading to the galley to pilfer
a firkin of salt. Norrington, sniffing and surreptitiously wiping at
his eyes, left with him, moving with purpose towards the helm. The
doctor again bent over Jack after shaking his head in disbelief at the
now-healed stump of Will's right hand.

By the time Bill returned with the salt, Norrington and Anamaria were
in the companionway outside the main cabin, deep in conversation,
something about going to find Gibbs. Bootstrap went after a large
barrel of fresh water next, declining the offered help from the
Commodore and ten minutes later, fetched it back to Jack, rolling it
easily across the deck, into the cabin and spun it, using the momentum
of the spin to help set it upright, and pried off the lid.

Having successfully managed to foist off the smothering attentions of
both Norrington and the doctor, Jack had gotten himself shakily out of
bed. With movements slow and painful, and some help from Will, he was
digging in an ornately carved olivewood box that Will couldn't remember
ever having seen before. Jack pulled out three white candles and fitted
them into hematite holders he'd placed at equidistant points around the
barrel of water. The candles had various symbols on them; Coptic runes,
he explained when Will asked.

Before Jack was quite finished fussing with the arrangement of the
candles, Gibbs, Mr. Cotton, and Anamaria arrived, all three heavily
burdened with myriad religious items, most solicited from the crew, a
few being dug out of the hold, which they deposited in a heap on the
table: large, ornate, jewel-encrusted crosses of solid gold; alabaster
reliquaries; Tuareg talismans of camel bone; statuettes of various
deities including Isis, Kuan Yin, Minerva and Krishna; a Voudoun doll
of the Devil stuck full of pins and one of Norrington, with no pins,
but holes enough to indicate that there had been some at one point; a
Hand of Fatima amulet; a fox tail, ten statues of St. Erasmus, which
surprised nobody, he being also known as St. Elmo, the patron saint of
sailors; a Maori

jade idol, exquisity carved; a sea biscuit on which the image of Buddha
had miraculously appeared; a rabbit's foot; assorted religious medals;
a tin of peyote; a prayer shawl; a dozen rosaries; an iron horseshoe; a
jar labeled "Eye of Newt"; a handful of "All-seeing eye" charms; a
silver menorah; some illuminated icons of martyrs from Russia; some
other items Will didn't recognize; wrapped bundle of four-leaf clovers,
a Protestant bible in Italian and a yoyo. Bill surveyed the fantastic
collection with grim satisfaction.

Jack was amazed. /All this from one ship of pirates? He didn't even
want to think about which crew carried the most charms against evil,
the cursed "dead" crew or his own. He noticed Norrington frowning at
the small effigy of himself. /He has to admit it is a good likeness,
all evil intentions aside./ The

Commodore put the doll in his pocket and glared at Ana and the
quartermaster. Jack had to grin.

"Thank you all very much, I told you, I didn't need all that. Ah
well...it is a nice sentiment and all very well-- except for this."
Jack fished the yoyo out of the pile. "This doesn't belong; a yoyo is a
Tagalog WEAPON, not a relic." Jack tried working the yoyo but the yoyo
wouldn't cooperate. Jack shrugged. "This one's defective, anyway." He
tossed it away, and again surveyed the incredible clutter on the table
trying to look interested so as not to make fun of his crew's beliefs
and superstitions.

A small, ornately jeweled casket caught Bill's eye; he unhooked the
latch, opened it and started, nearly dropping it when he saw the odius
contents. "Bones of the Saints!" Jack looked in the casket and saw
various small pieces of bone, probably fingers, some with desiccated
skin still attached. Disgusting. He frowned, thinking a moment, then
looked at the lid and read the Latin inscription fashioned in rubies on
the top of the lid.

"Yes, they are actually, bones, that is: relics of Mary of Magdala,
according to the inscription. I doubt if they really are hers though,
the `rubies' on the lid are only glass and I saw her real bones sold to
whores in Marseilles years ago by a traveling relic salesman. The
Magdalene is the patron saint of whores you know."

"How do you know they were her real bones," Will wanted to know. All
heads in the room turned to Jack.

"William, would a traveling salesman lie?" Jack tried to look innocent
without much success. Ana's eyes nearly rolled off her head: she
couldn't believe she heard Jack say that without bursting into flames.

Norrington had a thought, "Could the name of the salesman have been
Jack Sparrow, by any chance?"

Jack placed a hand on his heart and looked wounded, but didn't answer
further than that; he turned and rummaged in the desk drawer for
matches. That clinched the question for Gibbs, Bill and Ana.

As Jack lit each candle, he intoned soft words in Coptic, his face
peaceful, tranquil in meditation. As the third candle was lit, Jack
turned to Will and silently took the salt, sprinkling it into the
barrel, resuming his reverent chanting.

As Jack continued to chant, the barrel began to glow. By the time he
was finished, the room was lit brightly enough for Will to believe the
barrel truly held the sun within it.

Jack blew out the candles and grinned, bowing dramatically to an
astonished audience with a sweeping gesture. "Holy water...OW" He
checked in mid-flourish and grimaced, rotating his neck carefully for a
moment, "'m not quite healed yet, but I can feel m'self mendin', now
gentlemen, and lady, if you would be so kind, please?" Jack waved in
the direction of the door.

"I must clear the cabin so I have room to work and things aren't going
to be so pretty in a bit anyway." The doctor wanted to stay, but the
Commodore and Gibbs, each taking one of his elbows, convinced him to
leave. They were followed by Ana, who closed the doors after them. Jack
turned then to Will. "Now we'll see to that wound o' yours, whelp."

He helped Will remove his baldric and shirt, examining the cut on
Will's arm, which he could see was not healing at all. "If this wound
really came from a demonic blade, you're going to wish you WERE dead,
luv." He led the young man to one of the heavy captain's chairs around
the table and Will sat down. "Bill, I need you to hold your son as
still as you can. At the very least, keep him in the chair."

Bill made his way around to the back of the chair and wrapped his arms
around Will's arms and shoulders from behind, holding him securely,
pinning him to the chair.

Jack suddenly got his first look at the stump of Will's right arm and
stopped dead, sickened at the sight. "What happened?!"

Chagrined, Will looked away, unable to think where to begin explaining
to Jack all that had occurred. Bill spoke instead. "Pearl isn't just a
ship, Jack. She's a demon, and her blood is poisonous even to the
touch. I had to cut off the boy's hand...she'd bled all over it. He'd
be now dead if I didn't."

Jack knelt before Will and kissed the stump gently, tears in his eyes.
"Will...your hand. You can't be a blacksmith with one hand, lad."

Will used the stump to push Jack's chin up to look him in the eyes

and smiled. "But I'm not a blacksmith, Jack. I'm a pirate. And I've
always practiced sword fighting with both hands equally, anyway. I'll
be fine."

Jack kissed the stump again. "In all this wide world, William, there
HAS to be magic somewhere to give you back your hand, and I'll find it.
I swear to you, I shall find it."

Bill cleared his throat, drawing their attention away from each other
and back to the immediately pressing problem. "Could we first take care
of the matter at hand?"

Will chuckled at his father's feeble but well-intended attempt at
humor. Jack gave Bill a dirty look, but grabbed up a pitcher, filled it
full of the brightly glowing water at the barrel and brought it to
Will's chair. "Prepare yourself, William, this is going to hurt when I
pour it on and it's going to hurt even more as it starts to work. You
have my permission to scream."

"Oh, thank you very much," Will mumbled around the leather strap his
father had slipped between his teeth, holding himself ready as the
first drops of water spilled onto his corrupted flesh. Jack poured the
liquid slowly into the wound, where small dancing flames immediately
appeared. Will gamely clenched his jaw, tightly gritting his teeth, his
face screwed up with the effort of trying to remain silent and hold
still, but the Holy water burned liquid fire in the wound, bubbling and
fizzing as it vaporized; at last he couldn't help it and a

bloodcurdling wail of pure agony shivered up, echoing off the walls.

Bill Turner held his son so tightly pinioned that he couldn't pull
away, hugging Will's body to him to give him as much emotional comfort
as he could. He sang softly in his ear, crooning to the boy as if he
were comforting a small child.

Steeling himself, Jack slowly finished the first pitcher and turned
aside for another one, his face clearly stricken, bereft of all his
impishness. He returned and wordlessly began pouring again. Still the
hellish wound sizzled and hissed under the stream of the Holy Water.

Relentless, Jack poured a bit faster, and finally small droplets began
spilling back out of the wound as the rest evaporated in flames now
flickering green and purple, though the droplets coming out had the
appearance of normal water, no glow apparent.

Will's groans and screams rose in intensity, the tears and sweat
rolling steadily off his face. Bill began to have some trouble holding
him still as Will valiantly struggled to remain in the chair while his
body automatically fought against the restraint of his father's arms,
desperate to escape the agonizing torture.

Stone-faced, Jack poured the third pitcher even faster, the flames
reaching higher and brighter, burning blue now in the hottest fire,
then finally, as the fourth pitcher was half empty, the flames
blessedly began to die and the Holy water began to seep out of the
wound, now maintaining the glow. The fifth pitcher doused the flame
completely, and ran off the now closing wound in brightly glowing
rivulets. It was well after the wound was closed that Jack stopped
pouring. Will sagged in his father's arms; he had long since lost

consciousness by the end of the fourth pitcher, blessed oblivion
mitigating his torment.

Bill picked up his unconscious son and carried him to the bed, laying
him gently down. "Thank you, Jack."

Jack finished emptying the last of the Holy water from the pitcher back
into the barrel and turned around, his face streaked and swollen with
tears, but unashamed and smiling slightly. "I was beginning to worry
that the wound was too powerful. I've never actually seen Holy water
work physically before...it's always been more a matter of healing the
victim's faith." He moved to the side of the bed and looked down at
Will.

Will's breathing was soft and regular, his face in response, tranquil
and untroubled; more peaceful than it had been since Jack's birthday.
Jack smiled, remembering the halcyon days that he and the boy had
enjoyed before Bill arrived. He looked at Bill. "You know, mate. You
sure as Hell stirred up a right hornet's nest when you showed up."

"I was ordered to, Jack...believe me, I had no choice. I will admit it
was fun though, for a while anyway...till Pearl decided she wanted you
hanged."

Jack involuntarily brought his hand to his throat and cracked his neck.
"Aye...y' could say that was the lass going a wee bit far."

Bill chuckled and patted the pirate on the back. "DEFINITELY a bit too
far, I'd say."

Bootstrap turned Jack to him and looked him in the eye. "Jack, you have
to get off the Pearl before she recovers, I mean this, or she'll find a
way to kill you AND my son. Will is a brave man, Jack. He took on Pearl
single-handed and actually won. She damned near killed him this time,
there cannot be another and she's not too good with bargains."

"Bill, I still can't see my Pearl as anything but the most beautiful
woman I could ever imagine. And she WAS every bit as beautiful as I
imagined."

Bill scoffed. "What you saw was what your mind told her to appear as."

"Then William was telling the truth; Bill, you're trapped here on the
Pearl."

"Aye, though in her weakened condition I can move on once we leave the
darkness again, I hope. Oh...Jack, one thing I do know is that you must
go through the realm of light before you can leave the darkness, else
you'll be lost in this zone of darkness forever."

"Then that's just what we'll do." Jack leaned down to Will and brushed
his lips against the boy's cheek.

Will opened his eyes at the kiss, smiling feebly up at Jack. "Thank
you, Jack." He held up his erstwhile wounded arm and stared at the area
where the gash had been; there was no mark left. He looked up at his
father. "What do you see?" Bill grinned down at him. "As pure a soul,
lad, as can be found without being sainted."

Will shifted his weight uncomfortably. "I don't see how that can be. My
love for Jack is both illegal AND immoral. My soul should be fairly
tainted."

Bill laughed. "Son, love of any kind cannot taint you. Even my special
kind of love for Jack never darkened my soul; it was welcomed by Jack.
Your soul is clean because you are innocent, and the rarest of all
beings, a truly good man. I can see why Jack loves you even enough to
break his word to me, and for that I do forgive him."

Jack put his forefinger to his chin. "Then you're not jealous? The way
you were actin'-"

"-'t was all an act, forced upon me by Pearl. She is quite adept at
dishin' out agony to the soul. She tortured me till, I was..." Bill
looked at them, sheepishly apologetic. "Well...truth is...she broke me.
I agreed to do her every bidding. I would never have gone nearly as far
as I did had it not been for Pearl. But I'll not toady for her the
more. I DO love you, Jack, whatever you may think after all I've done
to you this trip."

Jack nodded thoughtfully and turned to Will. "Lad, we'll want to find
the center again. I'd like another talk with that dragon." Will nodded
and struggled to his feet, grimly determined; he left the cabin to take
the helm.

* - * - *