Next of Kin

Chapter Two: Loyalty’s Mark

Warning: Jack’s out-of-character/slight bastardization will start to become apparent in this chapter, so watch out for it and don’t complain because things will change in the future concerning the relationship between Will and Jack. And don’t worry, he doesn’t act like a complete asshole to Will in this one, but he probably will in the third chapter.

Note: I’ve had a couple people ask me about this, but just so everybody understands, Hollywood is inherently inaccurate. The accent that Johnny Depp (drools) tries to imitate is a little off for the time period this movie is set in. An original pirate’s vocabulary was made up of a ton of broken English and slurring, more so than Johnny had portrayed as Jack Sparrow in the movie, so what I write in my story as far as Jack’s (as well as the other pirates besides Will’s) language goes, it’s almost completely accurate.

~*~

The tide was low the morning William took his first step back onto the deck of the Black Pearl, his coin pouch ten times heavier than it had been yesterday due to the fact he had sold Dillard’s faithful old boat to a sailor who’d needed a get-away vessel. He’d been saddened to lose the mini-ship after only a week of having her, but something had told him that the kinold old man back at Port Royal would not have been offended.

A friendly face caught sight of Will’s arrival on board, and the aged voice of a man that went by the name of Gibbs shouted a greeting to him from where he was posted at the main bridge, speaking with Jack about course directions. The captain looked up and nodded for Will to join the two, and naturally the newest member of the crew followed the unspoken order without question or hesitation. He felt the need to impress Jfor for some reason, and it had built inside of him to the point that he found he would die to defend his captain. It was almost like he owed the man that much.

“Good mornin’ Mr. Turner!” Jack announced brightly, although a slight frustration in his tone set off the cheery salutation. Will took note of it immediately.

“Good morning Captain.”

Gibbs wore a smirk that had grown suddenly smug, but neither Jack nor William noticed it or realized the assumption bd sud such a face, the captain draping a comfortable arm around the boy’s shoulders nonchalantly.

“Welcome ‘board Will. I’m sure ye slept well?”
“As best I could, we are in Tortuga after all.”

Jack chuckled good-naturedly at the answer, Gibbs doing the same but in the background as he began to steer the moving ship out of port. Jack’s arm tightened a little bit before he dropped the appendage back at his side and scanned the ship’s deck. Will was forgotten momentarily as the ’s s’s sharp eye caught a man dozing at the bow, and his pistol was drawn immediately. The shot rang through the air and cut through the fog like a dagger, the bullet imbedding itself in the wood mere inches from the crewman’s nose. Said bulky man toppled over his own weight as he tried to stand, fear etched into his pale features as he stared up at Jack and awaited his punishment.

“Get tah work yah damned pirate! And don’ be expectin’ a meal tonight!”

The man nodded jerkily and sprinted out of sight below deck, leaving Will to stare a little wide-eyed at Jack. He didn’t know how to gauge that last scene, but judging from how Gibbs had fidgeted nervously he figured it was something that didn’t happen often.

Jack had quite the temper now, and it infuriated him to no end when someone such as that man had bal balls enough to fall asleep where the captain could see. Such a captain that did not allow freeloaders on his ship. His mind turned with possible punishments, and almost considered tossing the man overboard to swim to shore, but thought against it, remembering how he was still short another pair of hands and didn’t want to have to look for another replacement.

Jack returned his attention to Will, the hard anger still traced in his chocolate eyes even as he pulled a tight lipped grin for the young Turner. He kept his gaze locked with William, even as he lent towards Gibbs and crossed his arms.

“So, wha’ do ye think?” He asked the older crewmember, to which Gibbs glanced to the side to look Will over.
“I’d say he’d make a pretty good First Mate Capt’n.” Was Gibbs’ resolute, yet amused answer, and one of Will’s eyebrows rose slightly.

“That’s a pretty high rank considering I’m the new guy.” William stated, unsure of how much use he would b a F a First Mate when he still had yet to work on his rusting swordsmanship and sailing skills. Jack and Gibbs merely laughed loudly at this, and Will knew then and there that First Mate was what he was to be.

“You’ll do fine, lad. Just follow me orders and we’ll be square, savvy?”
“Aye, Captain.”

Jack patted Will’s shoulder before he moved around him and disappeared quietly into his chambers below, leaving Will with nothing to do but entertain Gibbs, the ageing pirate pulling out his small leather flask of Ale.

“It’s not just his order’s ye’ll have tah be followin’ lad. Stick tah his good side and the entire crew’ll be grateful.”

Will’s eyes narrowed as Gibbs took a swig from his liquor.

“About that. Jack seems different somehow. He doesn’t seem as free spirited as when I last saw him. What happened?” He asked cautiously, but was relieved to an extent when Gibbs sighed heavily and corked his Ale.

“Jack’s always been this way, son. He’s had time to grow back inta this lifestyle see? It brought out what he really feels about this world.”
“What do you mean?”
“His past, man, his past! Ye’ve had yer share of bad memories, Jack’s had his! And I strongly suggest ye be lettin’ this subject drop before Jack hears of it.”

Will had no time to argue, because the aforementioned captain had shouted his name and requested his presence in his cabin at that moment. Will was not lost on how uneasy Gibbs was at the subjectter ter they had been discussing, and because he was no longer naïve or ignorant, Will knew he would have to wait a great while to find out the truth behind Jack’s suddenly aggressive nature, realizing that it was tender and probably something Jack hadn’t meant to mention to Gibbs himself.

He found the door to Jack’s chambers open; a pleasant smell rolling from inside where Will found a small piece of incense burning. It was bold but spicy, and seemed to fit Jack in nature for some reason Will couldn’t explain. Jack was seated behind a cherry wood desk, English in design and something he had seen in Governor Swann’s home many times with his feet propped on top of it and his hat resting near said boots. The captain had his eyes closed and his head resting against the back of his high top chair, his hands clasped in his lap and his entire posture tense even though his position seemed to be one of comfort.

“Yes, Captain?” Will inquired, and Jack sighed lightly through his nose without opening his eyes.

“So, you’re a bit faded with the art of sailin’ ye say?”
“Aye. But it won’t take much to learn again.”
“I would expec’ as much.”

Jack swung his feet to the floor and finally gazed up at the new crewman with an intent look of musing. Sailing had not been what he’d wanted to ask William, but his reputation held up long enough to mask the truth. He’d made his crew’s loyalty to him a religion, but in order to gain such a thing Jack needed the people working his beloved Pearl to trust him, to have faith in his orders ais wis ways of working things. He’d known Will long enough to learn his character, and receiving reliability from the boy was going to take more than big words and successful pillaging. He’d been impulsive when he called the Turner down to him; set on telling him something about himself that only two people knew anything about and one of those men being dead. He’d realized his foolishness quickly though, and hardened his resolve the moment William had called him captain.

That title, and hearing it addressed to him gave him a sense of control, and that had been something he needed to cover his vulnerability enough to pull his fronted personality into check.

Jack stood, graceful to William who’d never really seen Jack when his body language wasn’t swaying, and drew his sword. He was close enough to the First Mate that the tip of his weapon pricked the boy’s smooth, slightly exposed neckline, and he watched with approval as reflex caused Will’s fingers to grasp the hilt of his own sword.

“I’m sure ye’ve practiced enough in the past to be able to defend yerself now?” Jack asked, a rhetorical question that brought a competitive smile to Will’s lips and a glint in his hazel eyes.

With barely the flick of his wrist Will’s sword was presented, and the blades of the two men crossed with a satisfying clink. Their bodies moved to the stance of a fighter, both men’s adrenaline rushing at the proposition of a fight.

“I believe my memory is not quite that short.”

Nothing more was said as Jack lunged, testing William’s statement and grinning as the boy deflected the move without thought. It was in his subconscious to move the way he did, his muscles and nerves twitching in a response that had been woven into Will’s very being. His swordsmanship would never leave him, algh hgh he might think it did, but he would soon realize that this sport would always come natural to him, and Jack proudly admitted that this was an aspect of the young man that he enjoyed.

They came together not in violence but in elegance, and although concentrated on the skirmish between the two, Will’s eyes never left Jack’s. Their swords connected as they twirled about the rather large and open room, never touching anything but the floor as they both participated in a dance that put both their worries at ease. It was a release to both of them, the event reuniting them wholly as partners and friends, a captain to his first mate, and the symbolism was not lost on either party.

They danced for what seemed like hours, until the sun had peaked high in the sky and the mid-day meal was announced. Still they battled on, sweat dripping from their hair and their faces, eventually both of them losing their shirts but neither paying anything very much mind. Will knew this was something Jack needed, and even though his muscles screamed at him he did not stop. The feeling that Jack could only allow himself this much peace with William brought a sense of pleasure to the ex-blacksmith that he drowned in gratefully, knowing he was welcomed back into Jack’s life without hesitation.

Eventually though, the escape to nothingness had to stop, and both men had to return to their duties. Such a long leave of absence made Jack skittish about how his crew was holding up and how many of them might have not been working all the while he’d been down here with Will. Jack drew back from the fight, breathing being a slight pant as he slid his sword back into its place at his hip before picking his shirt off the floor.

“I needed that.” Jack admitted in a murmur, and Will holstered his own weapon to nod gratefully.
“I was glad to give it to you.”

Jack off-handedly wiped the sweat from his face with a rag in the washbasin, before leaving Will to resituate himself. The younger man took a moment to catch his breath, pulling his loose shirt over his head but not bothering to tuck it in, and sat on the eof Jof Jack’s desk. He knew he would be called to deck if he did not show in the next moment, but he took that precious time to gather his previously lost thoughts.

Jack had changed dramatically in his eyes. He’d lost what had seemed to be his natural, sarcastic humor and carefree lifestyle to live in a personality that had no time for relaxation. He’d jumped quickly at the opportunity to fight and blow off pent up steam when Will had joined him, which gave said man reason to believe it wasn’t new anger that had been thrown into their duel. Something had happened to Jack, long before they had even first met back at Port Royal, and Will found a dedication to the pirate buried deep inside his resolve that had already made up it’s mind to help his friend. He wanted to know what demons Jack had stored inside himself, what he was running from and if it had anything to do with whom he was today. Could Jack’s past have been the difference between him being an upstanding gentleman and a pirate?

Will didn’t know that yet, but it was what he suspected. He stood after making such a revelation, and left the thickly scented room for the thinner atmosphere of the Caribbean, drawing the smell of salt water into his lungs before glancing around for Gibbs or Jack. He was already feeling useless, despite the liberation he’d just granted his captain, and he wanted something to do to feel more at ease with himself now that he was aboard the Black Pearl.

He found a familiar, female face in the multitude of crewmembers littering the deck here and there, and smiled as he moved to join Annamaria, as she seemed to be tending to torn sails.

“Good afternoon.” Will said, and the African American woman jerked to a half standing position. Old instincts caused her hand to reflexively move to the dirk she kept in her sash. It took her a moment but she did finally recognize the young man greeting her, and a small, twisted grin curled on her lips.

“Well, if it isn’t young Turner. I’ll be damned, when’d ye sneak aboard?”
“Actually, I was invited.”

The woman snorted a little, and after asking if there was anything he could do Will proceeded in climbing the mast to re-align and help Annamaria put the sail back into place. It was a little tedious, but Will expected much more on future adventures on the ship of pirates, and didn’t complain even as his palms began to chafe and one began to bleed lightly from the burn of the ropes. He hissed inwardly at the pain but loved it just as much because it stood as a reminder to him that this was his life now, this was where he belonged. It was not stuck in a shop molding steel, although he had found great peace in welding swords to be wielded by strong soldiers and men, this new purpose was more demanding, more dedicated. It was the stability in being a pirate under the command of a captain such ack ack that tied the knots in his world, and he owed his life to Captain Jack Sparrow because of this change, because of this sanctuary.

“A l’ttle tighter Turner, then she’ll be set.”

He did as instructed, before adjusting his footing and sliding down the ropes. Will landed with a small thud, immediately glancing down as his injured hands and grimacing at how the dirt was already clogging the small gash on his right palm. Annamaria took only a glance at the wound, before turning to recoil an extra length of rope.

“Wash it out, ye won’t be any use tah us with one hand.”

Will nodded, and moved to the bunks under the ship, finding an extra washbasin in the middle of the crew boarding room. He took a moment longer to rip a piece of his shirt off and tie it around his right palm, but other than that he was back on deck within the next minute. Again he searched for a chore, and was not waiting long before an almosnglyngly looking blonde man had him scrubbing the wooden floors with two others.

It was like that for the rest of the day, one job after another and he did not complain once, even when he was almost forced into helping Annamaria cook the small meal for the night. It surprised the woman that Will actually enjoyed cooking, but it pissed her off when she found that he was better than she was. It had been made the joke for the evening, one that even wrung a smile from the captain.

William had watched Jack through the meal, finding it strange that the captain was dining with his crew but did not question it, knowing it wasn’t his place no matter how curious he may have been. He was pleased when Jack visibly enjoyed the prepared food, and had been rather amused watching Annamaria’s face when even she admitted his cooking skills were more advanced than hers. She found it almost an insult that a man out-did a woman doing a woman’s chore in the first place, but Will brushed off her bitterness without much effort.

Jack announced the end of the day after dinner, dismissing most of the crew to bed but keeping Annamaria, Gibbs and Will on the main deck for the night shift. Will was glad in a way, not having been tired in the first place, but didn’t like how Jack looked about ready to collapse in exhaustion. He knew Jack would stay awake until the sun came up, watching over his beloved Pearl like a dedicated father would a beautiful daughter, but he didn’t want to see the man get sick.

“Wha’ post?” Gibbs asked, arms ced oed over his wide chest as he watched Jack with the same expression of worry as Will.

“Lookout.” Jack answered flatly.
“An’ me?” The only woman on board spoke up, even as Gibbs moved to climb the mast with ease.
“Rutter-charge.”

Will watched as Annamaria grinned a little to Jack, the emotion in her expression not lost on the younger Turner as she walked away with an exaggerated sway in her hips. Jack’s eyes followed her waist for a second, before turning his attention to his first mate. He smiled tightly, and even though it seemed fake to Will, it was one of Jack’s only smiles that day and so it was valued.

“Let’s see how much ye ‘member ‘bout sailin’, shall we?”

Will brightened immediately, nodding with a smirk and followed Jack to the wheel, the heart of the Pearl, and watched as his captain caressed the polished wood almost lovingly, gripping the handles loosely and gently.

Their was no casual conversation, only strict rules and promised punishments for breaking, bending, tearing or destroying anything that was a part of the ship, and with how much steel that was in Jack’s tone, Will knew he was of no exception from any of these rules. The Black Pearl was Jack’s treasure, and hurting her was like stealing gold from any other pirate on this ship. When put in basic terms, Jack would hang the person who harmed his ship from the lookout post.

After everything had found it’s bearings, Will putting back the pieces of his memory and learning the ropes for sailing a ship this size in general again, the atmosphere grew into peace. Jack seemed lost in thought to Will as he stood by his captain’s side, and he began to wonder if Jack had forgotten he was even there. His heart must have leapt into his throat though, when Jack turned his shoulders, and motioned for William to take control of the Pearl’s wheel.

“Are you sure?” Will asked, he had to ask, had to make sure Jack knew what he was doing, and was surprised when Jack stepped forward, gripped his shoulder, and grinned a genuine grin.

“It’s been a long while, and we’ve only met up jus’ yesterday, but I trust ye, Will.”

That sentence was all it took to make Will beam. He felt a sense of relief wash over him, a strange wave of thankfulness to know that Jack trusted him, no questions asked. He did not hesitate when he slid his palms over two separate handles, did not fidget in nervousness and was not worried he would do something wrong. If he did, which he would not allow himself to, he knew Jack would help him find his way back on track again. And the captain stood there the rest of the night, the two friends building on their bond and their relationship through the easy silence of the starry night and the calm, black waters of the Caribbean. William knew he did not trust Jack as much as the captain had admitted to him, but Will would let that grow on it’s own time, not wanting to rush into something so deep so quickly that he could drown in. He knew what it was that kept him from relying on Jack that intensely, and that was his next personal goal.

~*~

TBC