The Wraith of Jack

Part Five: "Wake the Fallen"

****
The bowl of watery soup was untouched. It had not left the spot where Bradley delivered it thirty minutes ago.

Jack sat with his back against the cold wall and stared at it solemnly. He did not think it was possible, but his appetite had disappeared. It had been three days since he last ate the unpleasant mush. In addition he had started to reject the ladle of water.

The change did not go unnoticed. As a response, the cruelty of his daily beatings increased dramatically.

Bradley came to stand in front of Jack’s cell, and he sighed from spotting the declined food. He gazed at the prisoner for a period before inquiring, “Why aren’t you eating?”
Jack slowly met the soldier’s eyes and kept silent.
“Just one bite, eh? You’re making it worse for yourself.”

Jack turned the proposal over before he crawled to the bars. He picked up the dish with quivering hands and tipped it toward his mouth. A minute amount was allowed down his throat before he set the bowl on the ground.

“You sure you don’t want anymore?” Bradley asked.
Jack shook his head.

The barrier was unlocked and swiftly closed once Bradley took the meal away. As he departed, he heard the pirate heave miserably.

****
The uniform had slipped on easily; it was like he never quit.

James stared at the forbidding building as his heart pounded faster.

“Are we sure this is what the Navy wardrobe is for?” he said and turned to Will beside him.
Will shrugged. “It makes the most sense. Can you do this?”
“I’ll be fine. I can do it.”
“We’ve got your back if things go bad,” Gibbs reminded him.

James surveyed the crew of the Black Pearl who had rowed with them from the ship to the immense island. They were to remain outside as backup force if need be. The pistols were ready and swords were unsheathed.

“Okay,” James whispered and took a deep breath. “I’m going.”

****
There had not been a confrontation yet. James wandered the gloomy halls, his ears alert for any sort of noise.

The place was like a maze. So many turns and dead ends. Perhaps it had served another purpose in a former life.

The sudden sound of footsteps reached him, and he glanced hurriedly about for a place to hide. There was nothing.

He swallowed, kept his head turned upward, and walked with confidence as if he belonged. The man came about the corner and strolled along. When he passed James, he merely nodded in acknowledgement and went on. James let out an temendous sigh of relief. He studied the man’s attire and there was no doubt anymore that Tia Dalma’s request for the Navy uniform was for this occasion.

He descended a staircase and drifted forward. In a minute or so, he arrived at a long hall adorned with jail cells.

He hesitated before beginning a trek to the other end. As he passed each cell, he observed the occupant briefly. Jack was nowhere.

He peered into the last one on the right and stepped closer. The captive was lying on his stomach with his head turned toward James. The portion of his countenance showing was bleeding, bruised, and battered to such a drastic degree that James was uncertain as to whether it was Jack or not. He looked harder at the person and though the beads were gone from the hair, the black mane was as it had been when he last saw the individual.

“Oh god, Jack,” he breathed.

He jogged to where he had entered from and searched frantically for keys. His hand landed on a ring containing many, and he quickly returned to the end cell. After numerous tries, he discovered the correct key and went in. Cautiously, he knelt beside the motionless form and placed a gentle hand on the man’s shoulder.

“Jack? Jack, can you hear me?”

There was no answer.

“Jack,” his voice trembled, “Wake up. Wake up, damn you. Jack.”
A soft whimper was the response.
“Come on, Jack. I need you to open your eyes. Look at me.”

Another groan emitted itself from Jack’s cracked lips. He inhaled a small breath and cocked his head ever so slightly in order to see his company with his right eye; the left was swollen shut. James smothered a sound of alarm. The pirate did not seem recognizable.

“J….Jack, it’s me. James Norrington.”

Jack was quiet as he scrutinized the friendly visage. A lengthy moment passed before he muttered almost inaudibly, “James.” A very faint smile came to his lips. “James Norrington.”
James nodded. “Yes. Yes, it’s me. I’ve come for you.”
“…..No. You’re not really here. He wants me dead. He wouldn’t save me.”
“I swear to you, I’m here. Right here.”
“…...James…..”
“Yes? What is it?”
“It’s not worth it.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s not worth savin’ me. It won’t be long until I’m dead here. What difference is it where I die?”
“You’re not going to die. Besides, wouldn’t you rather meet your demise aboard the Pearl? She’s waiting for you right outside, Jack.”

A wave of sadness washed over him as he saw a tear trickle down from Jack’s suffering amber orb.

“Even if she is, I can’t do her any good anymore. Have you not noticed, Jamie?”

James opened his mouth to speak, but closed it as he let his eyes travel over the pirate’s body. Abruptly, his heart skipped a beat and he ceased to breathe. The right leg of Jack’s trousers was resting on the floor with nothing to cover. The limb was gone. Severed entirely.

The former Commodore was speechless. There were no words to be said, for it would not comfort the abused male.

“I can’t defend her like I used to. My swordfightin’ would be horrible,” Jack uttered with a light chuckle.

He grimaced as he held up his hands. James sunk into the floor. The thumbs had been amputated as well.

“Oh lord, Jack,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”
The tiny smile returned. “It doesn’t matter.” His voice was defeated. Body and soul, he had been conquered. The white flag had been waved.

James’ throat was becoming dry. He swallowed several times and spoke again. “You’re going to be alright. I will get you away from here.”

He stood and scooped Jack into his arms. Jack moaned in pain and snuggled as close as he could to the warm being carrying him.

“James.”
“What is it, Jack?”
“Save them.”
“Who?”
“The rest of the prisoners. Save them. Kill the soldiers. Kill them.”
“Jack, I-”
“Kill them. Please, Jamie.”

James thought about the request as he simultaneously tried to remember how he had gotten inside. He strained his ears and eyes for any movement. A few times he had to dash to a darkened area to avoid soldiers and was successful in not being caught. At last, he came to the entrance.

“You’re almost free, Jack.”
“Save them. Kill them…..”

Jack went wholly slack in James’ arms as he drowned in unconsciousness.

James treaded to the side of the building, the stars and moonlight slightly illuminating the crew. He made his way to the longboat as the men crowded around him, bombarded him with questions, and reached their hands out for Jack to confirm if he was even alive.

“Give him some room,” he finally ordered harshly.

They stepped away and James took a seat in the boat. He cradled Jack to him and met Will’s unwavering gaze.

“Kill them, Will,” he said in a low, threatening tone. “Kill all of them and rescue the prisoners. We’ll get them to safety.”

Will shifted his eyes to take in Jack’s fragile frame. His jaw clenched and he nodded stiffly.

“Let’s take her down,” he voiced to the crew.

Part Six: "Assess the Damages"

****
“We should take off his clothes in order to determine the extent of his injuries.”
“I don’t know if I can handle looking at his leg.”
“Or lack there of.”

An indistinct mumble sounded from Jack and it proceeded to occur every few minutes or so. Will carefully guided the man’s arms out of the worn shirt and cast it aside. He unbuttoned the trousers, though he stepped away for James to remove them.

Their gazes swept him from head to toe. Ribs pressed against skin; his abdomen was sunk. Will had not the strength to even steal a glimpse at the barely there remnant of the right leg; the end portion was ragged, stained with blood, and plainly repulsive. There were too many bruises to count. His skin had become a painting of blue, black, and purple splotches. The left shoulder blade appeared as if it had been fractured just like his nose. Marks had stayed on his arm from the numerous instances when he was viciously grabbed and hauled off somewhere.

“Dear God,” Will at last broke the silence.
“I need you to support him while I check for any concussions.”

Very gingerly, they got him to a sitting position, and he rested against Will’s chest. James combed through the black hair with delicate fingers and came across various contusions.

“These will need some sutures.”

He finished and they laid Jack on his stomach to inspect his dorsal side. Grotesque scars from the whip covered his back – the fresher ones still sprouted trickles of blood.

“We can clean these easily. His head and the devastation to his facial structure worry me the most right now.”

Jack released a muffled wail and twitched. Will bent down and searched the pirate’s visage for a sign if he was awake or not.

“Jack? Can you hear me?”

A shallow intake of breath sounded before another cry of distress came from his mouth.

“Jack? If you can hear me, it’s Will. We’re taking care of you. You’re safe aboard the Pearl.”

Jack’s lips moved, but Will could not discern what the man uttered.

“I’ll stay with him tonight.”
Will became slightly defensive. “As will I.”
James was not thrilled. “Very well.”

****
Two days floated by without a single progression with regard to Jack. He barely moved, yet he whined quietly. Even in the abyss of oblivion, anguish still reached him.

Will had a chair pulled to the bedside and was drifting to sleep when he noticed a flicker of the pirate’s eyelids. He shifted closer and watched anxiously.

“Jack? Jack, open your eyes.”

It was a surprise as Jack actually did so. He inhaled deeply and turned his head a little to see who was with him. A smile crept onto his face.

“William Turner,” he whispered in a raspy voice.
Will nodded and his rich, brown orbs were glassy. “Yes. Yes,” he responded equally as soft.
“Where are we?”
“The Pearl. Your quarters.”

He could not withhold any longer. Will moved over the emaciated frame and hugged Jack. The older male did not know quite how to respond at first, but he soon placed languid arms around the blacksmith. He rubbed his face against Will’s hair and sighed.

“It’s ok, Will. It’s ok, love.”

He attempted to embrace Will more securely the instant he felt the young man start to tremble.

“Don’t cry, darlin’. There’s no need for you to.”
“I’m sorry, Jack.”
“Shhh….None of that, savvy? No need.”

Time went unhurriedly by before Will at length pulled away. He wiped the tear streaks from his cheeks in embarrassment and said, “I should let you get some sleep.”

Jack’s expression was uncertain, though his tone seemed the opposite as he spoke. “I know it may be a tad inappropriate in your virgin mind, but…..” His amber orbs were filled with vulnerability as he completed his sentence. “Would you lay here with me?”

Will shook his head and let out a small laugh. “I’d love to.”

He crept beneath the sheets and lied on his back. Jack turned to his side to see him and wariness settled over him as he slowly put his arm across Will’s torso and curled up next to him. Will snaked his own around Jack’s shoulders and held him close.

For a while they each lay awake, listening to the other breathe. The tranquil atmosphere saw Jack slip into sleep first.

Will followed in mere minutes.

****
When Jack woke, he discovered Will standing stoically beside the bed. James suddenly came to the blacksmith’s side, holding a cup.

“You need to drink this, Jack,” the former Commodore spoke.
Jack shook his head and his loveable eyes filled with grief.
“It will help you recover quicker. You surely must be starving anyway.”
“Just because I look like I’m hungry, doesn’t mean I am, Jamie.”

James urged the cup toward Jack, but the pirate weakly pushed it away. They shared the exchange a couple of times before James nodded sadly to Will.

Will hated to do it, but he raised Jack to sit and firmly gripped Jack’s skull. A small yelp came from the invalid and he could not fight against Will tipping his head back. Will’s other hand forced Jack’s mouth open, providing the opportunity for James to pour the medicinal liquid in. It was not much, did not take long, and Will released him immediately when all had been dumped. It was a struggle for Jack to swallow. Once he was able to, the drink oozed refreshingly down his sore throat and sent tingling sensations throughout his entire anatomy.

Frustrated and feeling victimized, he shoved Will and James backward. As James stepped to him, Jack flung himself onto the Navy man and attempted to tackle him to the ground. James braced him instead of falling, causing Jack to begin thrashing about wildly.

“Let go of me!” he shouted, though it was awfully frail. “Get away!”

James eased him to the floor and tried to sooth him. It did not help. Jack started to sob and through his uneven breaths, he continuously demanded that the two men leave.

There was nothing either of them could do or say to pacify the broken man. They exited, and Jack screamed once the door was shut. His eight fingers latched onto the edge of the mattress as he strove to stand. They faltered, his arms were not strong enough for the endeavor, nor was his leg willing or able to handle the weight alone for the first time in what felt like ages.

He crumpled to the wood floor and slammed his fist against it.

“Damn it!” he yelled as anger, helplessness, and exhaustion washed over him.

He wept alone and at last permitted the fatigue to take him.

Two hours later, he vaguely realized someone picking him up and lying him on the bed before he faded into complete slumber once again.