Leave Me Lying Here

Title: Leave Me Lying Here (36/?) 08/23/03
Author: Lydia Nightshade (nightshade10312001@yahoo.com)
Pairing: Jack/Will; Ana Maria/Elizabeth
Rating: R
Warnings: Swearing, some gay bashing, non-con, racial slurs, and horrible villianization of certain characters.
Disclaimer: HA! I own nothing! I’m a disillusioned college graduate with no future to speak of. The title is a line from the Veruca Salt song Volcano Girls. I don’t own that either I just think it goes well with the fic and I love Veruca Salt! (Plot line and subsequent oddball random OC’s are mine though! Back off Disney!!)
Beta: Mike
Archive: My writing LJ www.livejournal.com/users/night_writes

Feedback: It’s the only thrill in my sad, pathetic, pirate slash obsessed little life... well, that and getting shit-faced on Captain n’ coke…. *innocent grin*

Summary: My characters even start to mock the improbability of this story, but it’s all in good fun, eh?

Author’s Notes: I figured out what I need to write this damned thing… RUM! Also gin works in a pinch. I love my coworkers… But yeah… here’s more. Be happy and always fuck safely for the Buddha says so.

Author’s Notes 2: I started off with a little rehash of last chapter since it ended rather abruptly. Hope you don’t mind, dears. *hiccup*


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“Better watch out for this one, boss, he’s a killer,” Avery added. Will flinched. Barbossa looked up, amused.

“I know, the cops are looking for you. You killed your father.”

“Not just him. My baby killed himself a bum not even an hour ago.” Barbossa could see Will’s resolve to not cry breaking as Avery kept taunting. “I think he’s still got the blood on his hands.”

“Really? Little William Turner, straight-A-student?” Barbossa pretended to sniffle and then smacked Will on the back, coaxing a muffled sob from the teen. “Welcome to the club, my boy. Too bad you won’t be alive long enough to become a hardened criminal like Bosun—might have been able to employ you.” That did it. The tears poured over and Will screamed at the scoundrel from behind the tape and pulled at his bonds. His tormentors just laughed, making Will lower his head, his eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to block out the taunts.

‘I’m not a murderer, I’m not a murderer, I’m not a murderer!’ he chanted in his head. ‘I didn’t mean to!’ He looked up when he heard Bosun rifle in his clothing for something. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the gun being cocked and he swallowed.

“Enough playing around,” Barbossa stated, once again leaning forward. “You’re going to tell me where Elizabeth is and then Bosun is going to shoot you in the head. No one will find your body and the rats will pick it clean… are you following me?” he asked cheekily, ripping the tape off of Will’s mouth. A soft noise of pain escaped the teen’s lips from the hairs of his goatee being pulled out.

“Why should I tell you anything if you’re just going to kill me anyway?” he said defiantly. Barbossa laughed and looked at Will through knowing eyes.

“Oh, dear William, it’s not if you die, it’s how that’s going to change.” Bosun held the pistol up to Will’s temple to emphasize his point, feeling the youth trembling underneath his hands. “Not so brave now?”

“Fuck you. What else can you do to me? I won’t give Lizzie up to a sick fuck like you for a shot in the head!” Barbossa clucked his tongue and motioned to Bosun, who then removed the gun and stood behind Will, making the teen very nervous. He only had a moment to react before the piece of rope hit his neck, cutting off his air supply. Bosun had him almost off his seat with the strength he was using. Will gasped and tried to stand up to get more air, but with his feet tied to the chair it was useless.

Just as quickly as he was bound, he was released, coughing and sputtering. “Ready to tell me now?” Barbossa asked coyly, blowing smoke from his newly lit cigar right in the teen’s face. Will just glared and hacked some more. Barbossa sighed and flicked his fingers, once again prompting Bosun to strangle the teen mercilessly. Will could feel his eyes rolling back into his skull before they released him again.

“Why do you always have to take the hard way?” Barbossa asked in mock sympathy. “I’m not going to hurt Elizabeth. I just want to know where she is.”

Will laughed cynically. “Why don’t you have your cronies sniff her out like you did me?” He was slapped across the face for his insolence, causing his lip to split. Will smirked. “Already tried didn’t you?” Barbossa smacked him again. “What’s the matter? Don’t like being outsmarted by a teenaged girl? She always was smarter than you.”

“Shut up!” Barbossa shouted, grabbing Will by the throat. “You’ll tell me where that little bitch is and then you’re going to die, faggot!” he hissed, squeezing harder. Will just smiled wickedly, as best he could while being choked, and stared back at the older man.

“I don’t care what you do to me…” he rasped, “I. Won’t. Tell. You.” With the small breath he had left he spat in his tormentor’s face. Barbossa squeezed even tighter coaxing small squeaks and gasps from his victim.

“Boss…” Avery nudged when he could tell Will was in serious peril of death. Barbossa didn’t listen, locked in a death glare with his victim. “Boss!” he repeated, prying the older man’s hands off of Will’s neck. “You’re gonna kill him before you get what you want.”

“Fuck ‘em! I don’t need his help to find her!” Will was too busy gasping for air to bother taunting the older man at the moment, hacking and spitting and slumped over the chair.

“Give me some time with him…” Avery prodded gently. “I’ve always had a way with him,” he purred looking Will up and down. Will didn’t notice until Barbossa walked up and grabbed him by the hair.

“Have it your way, faggot. Now you can answer to him… or take it up the ass.” Now Barbossa smiled and Will was trembling—their power positions changing once again.

“No… please no,” Will rasped, staring at Avery with dread, but Barbossa wasn’t in the mood for pity.

“I warned you…” he hissed before exiting the room with Bosun. “Holler if you need anything.”

“Wait!” Will tried to shout out, but it came as only a whisper due to his strained throat.

“Don’t be scared, baby. We know each other really well, don’t we?” Avery cooed, smoothing back Will’s hair. “You can tell your old coach just about anything, can’t you?” Will jerked away from the fingers stroking his cheek and worked at his bonds. His labored breathing getting faster.

“Not again… not again…” he mumbled to himself as he fidgeted furiously in an attempt to get away. “Please, not again…” Avery ran his dirty fingers through Will’s hair as if the lad were his favorite plaything and relished the discomfort the action caused. It was about time Will learned his place, how dare he run off with another man.

“I think you forgot what it feels like having me inside you, baby. I’m gonna remind you.” He leaned down to kiss the teen, but Will head butted him instead, glaring hatred and malice at the older man.

“Fuck you, cunt,” Will hissed, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. “You wouldn’t know how to satisfy a five year old.” In a fit of rage Avery slapped Will across the face so hard he caused the chair to tumble to its side with Will still attached. The teen cried out in pain as his arm was crushed under the weight of his body and the pressure from the chair.

“I’ll show you a real man!” Avery screeched, loosing his pants. He cut Will’s legs free from the chair and hoisted the teen up by his arms and bent him over the desk. Kicking wildly Will managed to hit Avery in the balls causing the older man to fall back. Heading for the door, Will tried pathetically to open it with his hands still bound behind his back, but it was no use. Even if he did get the door to unlock, Barbossa and Bosun were still on the other side.

“Little brat!” Avery screamed as he lunged for his prey. Will gasped in fear and dodged him.

“Stay away from me! Just get away!” he shouted backing up and looking for another exit at the same time. “Stay back!”

“You don’t give the orders in this relationship, baby,” Avery snarled. Will thought he’d burst into tears as his situation became more hopeless. Just then his heel caught on the uneven floorboards and he fell back, hitting his head. Avery wasted no time and was on top of him in seconds.

“NO!” Will shouted, kicking and squirming. Avery had him completely pinned and vulnerable. “Oh god, don’t do this…” he begged as he felt Avery pulling down his pants. Avery ignored the teen and hoisted Will’s legs up on his shoulders. Will watched in a state of shock, his eyes watering. He watched the older man lick his palm and then stroke his dripping cock. With one mighty thrust Avery was inside him once again causing pain and shame all in one motion. Will wailed in agony, turning his head to the side in an attempt to hide from what was happening.

“Does it feel good, baby?” Avery purred maliciously into his ear, grabbing a fistful of curls and tugging. Will just squeezed his eyes shut and waited for Avery to start thrusting, but it never came.

Without warning the older man was violently ripped from above him. Avery cried out in pain and Will sensed another presence in the room. He tried feebly to get his pants back up, but it wasn’t easy when he had no use of his hands. He wiggled his hips down and managed to move them up slightly, but not enough. All the while there was the sound of thrashing and Avery moaning in pain followed by the sounds of Barbossa and Bosun trying to get into the room.

Everything seemed to be in a haze and all Will cared about was the fact that he was lying exposed and hurting on a dirty floor, blinded by tears and shamed by the sickening knowledge that he was again Avery's victim.

“Don’t you ever touch him! DON’T YOU EVER!!” Jack’s murderously angry voice roared as he kicked Avery in the face once again. “Sick mother-fucker! I’ll kill you!” Will managed to push himself up at the sound of Jack’s voice, his face paling at the sight of Jack almost beating Avery to death in the corner. His lover and rescuer had jammed the chair under the door and was now pummeling Avery into a bloody mess.

“Jack?” Will called out feebly, wanting to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. His voice seemed to calm the beast of rage inside his lover and the biker looked over to him with sad eyes. “What are you doing here?” Will asked unbelievingly. “I thought you were dead.” He felt his eyes spilling over once again, but couldn’t stop it. Jack’s face softened immediately and he hurried over to his young lover.

“I can’t die just yet, precious. Not until you’re safe.” Jack comforted, cutting the ropes around Will’s wrists. The teen rubbed haltingly at the abrasions and looked up in confusion.

“But… but how did you find me? How’d you get in here?” He just couldn’t believe Jack was really here to save him after being left for dead in a parking lot. Jack smiled and took Will’s face in his hands.

“I saw the car and came in from the roof,” he explained softly. Will let a sob escape his lips as he felt Jack wiping away his tears. He leaned into the touch and pulled Jack forward to bury his face in the older man’s shirt.

“Just shoot the fucking thing!” Barbossa’s angry voice barked from behind the door. Jack looked over his shoulder and begrudgingly pushed Will away.

“We don’t have time for this now. Run now, cry later.” Jack instructed, pulling the teen to his feet. “Can you walk?” he asked, trying not to think of the position he’d found Will in when he’d first happened upon the room. Will looked away in embarrassment, buttoning his jeans back up and nodding silently.

“Good, come on, I think I know a way out.” He took Will by the hand and led him out of the room just as Bosun shot the door open. The duo ran out of the room and up some barely-there stairs to another, even more dilapidated level of the condemned building over to a corner with a busted door.

“This’ll get us to the roof,” Jack explained, not slowing down, just pulling Will along as fast as he could move. Not wasting time, the biker shoved the door away from the opening and sent Will up the stairs first. Both could hear their pursuers were only a little behind them.

“What the hell?” Will moaned as he saw the condition of the room they were in. “I thought you said this led to the roof!”

“Look up, Precious.” Jack instructed. Will did so and saw a glass ceiling with many panes missing and felt the draft.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” he groaned seeing the utter disarray of their escape route. “Who builds these places?!” Jack took him by the hand to the iron ladder that led up to the glass ceiling.

“Actually, I find it rather ironically funny.” Jack offered as they climbed, opening up the trap door to the roof. “You see, this building used to be run by all women and the symbolic glass ceiling is quite a funny pun on the modern business woman’s feministic plight.” Once on top he reached around to help Will up. “Don’t you think so?” Will just stared at him.

“How the fuck are you still alive?” Jack grimaced and snorted in disgust. “And you’re supposed to be the smart one.” he grumbled, taking Will once again by the hand. Will resisted.

“No!” he trembled as Jack started to move along the thin frames around the glass squares. “I’ll fall! I always fall!” he panicked and refused to budge from the only wooden part, that being the trap door.

“We don’t have time for insecurities now, Precious. We’ve got psychotic men with guns after us,” Jack chimed, pulling on Will’s hand. “I promise I won’t let you fall.” He tugged again, feeling Will unwillingly comply and inch his way along.

“Why can’t they ever just take a person to a field to execute them?”

“Save the complaining for when we have to go over the hump.” Jack insisted.

“The what?!” Will swayed and almost fell, a squeak escaping his lips. Jack pointed to the part of the roof that went up to form a sort of triangular shape, with a flat top. “Now what purpose does that serve?!” he scoffed.

“It’s decorative,” Jack answered. “And it probably helps with rain water—who the fuck cares? My bike’s on the other side of it and so are the fire stairs to get down, so we cross it!”

“Did I ever tell you I’m terribly afraid of heights?” Will offered nervously as he saw Jack carefully beginning to climb the vertical and slanting surface. Jack looked over, annoyed. Will was biting his lip.

“Now why doesn’t that surprise me?” Will was about to respond when he heard rumbling beneath him and the sound of glass shattering. It was at this point he looked down to see Barbossa underneath them. The bastard was shooting out glass panes around them.

“Oh fuck!” Will screamed, starting to climb up the dividing wall. He screamed again as another pane went out beside him. “What’s his problem?!”

“It’s my understanding he wants you dead, no?” Jack quipped. He was almost to the top and when he reached it he sat and leaned down to offer Will a hand. “Hurry up darling, time matters here.”

“You’re not funny.” Will seethed, climbing as quickly as his nerves would allow and trying not to look down. He reached for Jack’s hand shakily, but another shot rang out between the small space scaring him away. “Shit!” Another pane shattered behind him, he was stuck. “Jack, help me!” he cried out, holding on by his nails to the tiny frame around the glass square he was on.

“Hang on,” Jack shouted, trying to sound calm. He repositioned himself onto his stomach and reached down further, stretching as much as he could. “Come on, Precious, reach for my hand.” Will tried, but couldn’t close the gap. Bosun was up on the roof now too, heading for them and climbing with much more agility than Will.

“Climb up higher and reach again,” Jack coaxed, looking over frantically at the hired gunman rapidly approaching them. Will lifted a shaky foot to the side and pushed himself up - just enough. Reaching for Jack he managed to catch his hand just before his foot gave out. Jack braced himself so he wouldn’t fall off the top and tried to pull.

“I can’t lift you from this angle, you need to get your footing back, baby.” Jack instructed, holding on to his young lover for all his worth. Will tried, but his feet kept slipping and he couldn’t seem to get a hold again. Becoming more panicked by the moment he tugged more on Jack’s hand than he meant to by constantly jerking from the failed attempts to get a footing.

“I’m losing you!” Jack shouted, as he squeezed tighter to the hand slipping in his sweaty palms.

“I can’t get a footing!” Will responded. He looked up only to see Bosun almost to the top. “Shit…”

“Isn’t this touchin’?” he mocked, as his muscular arms pulled him up. Will looked down and saw Barbossa aiming for Jack and gasped. “Payback time,” Bosun snarled, getting to the top and kicking Jack in the side. Will looked up tearfully as Jack cried out in pain, but refused to let him go.

“Fuck you, gimpy. Do I have to shoot off another one of your fingers?” he grunted, but it was obvious he was afraid for his life.

“Jack,” Will prompted, looking down at Barbossa one more time before he met his lover’s eyes. He felt them watering, but smiled anyway. “I love you…” he whispered before letting go of the older man’s hand and letting himself slide down the glass. Jack screamed out in denial as he saw Will slip through one of the shot out panels and smash through the floor beneath them.

Will smashed through the first floor that Barbossa was on and through the one beneath it. The old, flimsy wood couldn’t hold up to much force at all. He’d lost count of how many he’d gone through, smacking his head on the very first, that by the time he stopped and all the old wood fell on him, the teen was completely unconscious and bleeding from his temple.

“NO!” Jack screeched, watching in shock.

“’Fraid so,” Bosun snapped sarcastically kicking Jack and sending him flying down the other side. Letting out a grunt of pain as he landed, Jack reached for his gun and took aim, but Bosun kicked it out of his hand before he ever fired a shot. “Not this time, white boy.” he snapped, pointing his own gun at Jack’s head. Jack closed his eyes and awaited his fate. “I’m going to enjoy this more than any other hit in my life,” he said snidely, leaning in so Jack could hear him better. “I just wanted you to know that.”

“Much obliged,” Jack quipped, eyes still closed. Bosun smirked and cocked the gun.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight yourself!” Anamaria’s angry voice snapped. Bosun didn’t even have time to look up before he felt the incredible sting in his shooting hand. A small throwing knife was now imbedded in his flesh, making his hand utterly useless. Roaring in pain he looked at the petite figure that had just rendered him useless and then back at his supposed victim. Jack just shrugged and smiled his patented smile.

”What? You didn’t think I’d come here alone, did ya mate?”

Infuriated, Bosun lunged for the cheeky biker, but another knife was thrown at his foot.

“Don’t move tons-of-fun. I’ve got a dozen more shiny friends with your name on them.” Bosun pulled out both knives and looked at Anamaria bitterly.

“No little bitch is going to bring me down.” Jack cringed at the comment and sidled away.

“Shouldn’t ‘ave said that, mate.” he offered, scurrying out of the line of fire. Ana’s eyes burned with rage as she unleashed the full arsenal of knives on her belt with such speed Bosun was down before he even knew what was happening to him—multiple injuries in each appendage. At the end Ana stood over him, glaring psychotically.

“Who’s the bitch now?” she scowled, grabbing one of the knives embedded in his arm and holding it over him. “Looks like it’s you,” she said quietly, hovering the knife over Bosun’s groin. The hired gun begged for his pride to remain intact, actually crying at the thought.

“Oh god, no!” he wailed. Ana raised her hand and let it fall, “Please!” Bosun screamed. Ana’s hand stopped just short of castrating the big brute, looking down with a smug expression on her face. Bosun sobbed piteously as his manhood was spared.
“Big strong man,” Ana cooed, slapping the side of his face. “Did you really think I’d go to jail for your stupid ass?” she laughed and conked him on the head with the hilt of her knife, knocking him out. “Asshole…” she sneered, getting up and walking over to Jack. “Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” she checked his face like a mother hen, not even noticing the blood on her own hands.

“I’m fine. It’s Will I’m worried about.” She sighed, looking beneath them. Barbossa was gone, probably going to find Will’s body. “Do…” Jacks’ voice was small and helpless sounding, not like him at all. “Do you think he’s still alive? That he could have survived that?” Ana patted him on the shoulder.

“He’s stronger than he looks and that floor is weaker than it looks. A good combination for survival in my book, eh?” she comforted. “Come on, this brute won’t be out forever and we’ve still got the rich bastard to off before the cops show up.” Jack nodded silently, his eyes blurry with moisture.

“He’ll be alright, Jack,” she coaxed. “You need to be the strong one for him right now, okay Jackie-boy?” Jack flinched at the nickname. He laughed nervously, shifting his eyes.

“Don’t call me that, okay? That’s what my sister used to call me.” Not waiting for a response he moved past her and headed back for the trap door entrance. Ana looked on in pity as Jack tried aimlessly to crawl up the glass pyramid again.

“Jack, why don’t we go down the fire escape and start at the bottom? Will’s probably closer to that anyway.” The overwhelming sense of agony coming from her long time friend almost broke her heart. Jack was like a small boy that just lost his mother—aimless, heartbroken and looking for guidance. “I’ve already killed the driver, it’ll be easy.” Jack stopped climbing and nodded.

“Yeah… yeah good idea.” He walked by her again and hurried down the fire escape. Ana felt a lump in her throat, but suppressed it. Someone here had to be the strong one and if she had to, she would be that for her friend.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Will moaned and reached for his head. He was buried under some pieces of splintered wood and in tremendous pain. Feeling the side of his head his fingers detected a warm, sticky substance, when he pulled his hand back he realized through blurry eyes that it was his blood. “Shit…” he groaned, letting his hand fall. His head felt so heavy and his legs didn’t seem to want to move at all. Where was he?

‘Oh yeah, I’m in hell…’ he thought bitterly. He tried moving and found that he could do it, but with waves of excruciating pain. His entire body felt beaten and bloodied, but he couldn’t just lie still in one spot for too long. They were after him… all of them. Weren’t they?

Pushing himself up on shaky arms he attempted to move his equally shaky and lethargic legs. It wasn’t easy, but somehow he managed to get himself into a sitting position, which led to kneeling, which led to standing… finally.

“Hardest thing I’ve done all my damn life,” he gasped, feeling his weak legs wanting to give out on him. ‘Run now, cry later,’ Jack’s voice echoed in his head. He had to keep moving, had to get away from this place—then he could crash and burn. Moving toward the door he couldn’t help but think he must have looked like a zombie from a really low-budget horror movie with his jerky, slow movements.

He found a door and pushed on it slowly, feeling a little more steady as he scoped out the hallway. He couldn’t see anyone or hear anything so that meant it had to be safe, right? Hobbling down the hallway he clung to the walls and almost lost consciousness a few times but managed to get to the stairs at the end. Not even pretending to have dignity left, he sat down and slid on his butt the whole way down - one agonizing step at a time.

The cut on his temple was bleeding quite profusely and he could feel it all the way down his neck. His lip was bleeding again too and he didn’t even want to think of what the rest of him must have looked like. Nothing seemed to be working right, but he was still moving so there was fight left. When he finally got to the bottom of the stairs he used the crusty railing to get himself to stand, but it broke and he fell backward, breaking the step and effectively getting himself stuck.

“Why?” he cried, covering his face and sobbing.

“Crying over a broken railing?” the voice cooed. Will looked up, he knew that voice. That was a good voice. A happy voice—Jack’s voice. Fresh tears poured from his eyes as he felt his lover’s arms around him, gently holding him. Ana smiled from the corner, happy to see Jack so thrilled and back to his old self.

“You look awful, Precious. What? Did you fall through the floor?” he teased, using his own shirt to wipe at some of the blood on the teen’s face. Will laughed and cried at the same time.

“Don’t make me laugh… when I’m in this much… pain.” He managed to rasp out. Jack placed a kiss on the teen’s forehead and rubbed his side.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He kissed him again, holding the teen close. It was just such a relief to know that his lover was okay. Hurt—but alive, and in his arms again.

“I don’t mean to break up the lovefest, but we do need to get the hell outta here.” Anamaria pointed out, waving her hands in the direction of the doorway. “Come on my little fairies, out we go!” Jack helped Will to stand and walk to the door.

“Not so fast,” Barbossa’s angry voice rang out. “You’ve got something that belongs to me,” he snapped, cocking his gun. The trio turned slowly to see the angry businessman pointing the weapon at Jack. “Hand over the brat and I won’t shoot you or your nigger friend.”

“What did you call me?!” Ana snapped, going for a knife before she realized she’d used them all on Bosun. “Fuck!” Why didn’t she use guns? A gun would work so well right now…

“You heard exactly what I said, now hand him over.” Will could feel Jack pushing him away and panicked at first. But he was pushed into Ana’s strong arms, not Barbossa’s, confusing him. “I’ve called in backup and they’re already coming into the building.”

“Ana, take Will and get out of here.” Jack’s steely voice instructed. Will felt terror go through his body.

“Jack, what are you doing? Don’t be stupid!” he sobbed, not caring anymore what he looked like. “Don’t be a fucking martyr! I’ll hate you for it!” He struggled against Ana’s hold, getting free just in time.

“So be it.” Barbossa scoffed, firing his gun at Jack. “One dead faggot is as good as another.” Jack froze as he heard the pop from the barrel and cried out in agony as he saw Will fall into his arms, limp and bleeding. Ana actually screamed and Barbossa laughed. Jack couldn’t speak, Will had just taken a bullet for him. His worst nightmare was happening right in front of him.

“B… Baby?” he gasped out around the lump in his throat. Falling to the floor he cradled the teenager in his arms. Will looked up and smiled serenely.

“F-Finally,” he strained, “I… I got to s-s-save… you,” he stroked the side of Jack’s face and then fell limp.

“What a fag,” Barbossa sneered. “That’s what happens when you disobey the laws of god.” Jack snapped. He looked up through running eyeliner at the man he now hated more than himself. Barbossa was aiming to kill him too now. But he never got the chance.

Moving with speed he didn’t know he had, Jack fired five blind shots before he’d even realized he had picked up his gun. Barbossa let out a hiss of pain and retreated down the hall. Jack picked up his lover and ran with Ana to hide from the impending threat—already hearing Barbossa’s backup moving through the building.


Tbc….

Ain’t life a bitch?

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