Upon A Painted Ocean

chapter 15
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The mermaid really wasn't too bad, Elizabeth thought, rather chatty too. Tisha had vivaciously recited the charismatic personalities traits and heroic deeds of her fiancé with vivid details. She watched the mermaid play out the scene where Will rescued her from the barrel with extravagant melodrama. Despite the mostly, if not all fabricated nature of the story, the performance was rather arresting.

Instead of feeling threatened by her self-proclaimed rival in love, she was intrigued by the creature in front of her. To Elizabeth, Tisha was the embodiment of all the fantasy tales she read as a child and the urban legends of the sailors. The need for adventure inside her blood was boiling, pushing aside all other thoughts, even those of her beloved Will temporally aside.

She rubbed her face vigorously and withdrew her legs closer on top of the rock. The nightgown she had on was almost dried by the crispy air. The salt in the water had crystallized and cemented uncomfortably in her hair, on her skin and other places she cared not to mention.

The sun had set a little while ago and it was getting harder to see. The only illumination was provided as Tisha's aquamarine scales reflected off the moonlight and basked the inside of the cave with a gentle glow.

"Are you even listening to me?!"

Tisha's annoyed voice was starting to steam up. She smiled sheepishly as she was caught daydreaming. At the temperamental gleam in the mermaid's eyes, she hastily rewinded the last couple of minutes and felt her eyebrows furrowed automatically.

"A swimming contest?"

"That's right. I officially challenge you to this race."

"But..... a swimming contest?"

"Hey! Don't you even *think* about insulting this sacred and ancient ritual of my people!"

Mermaids really were fascinating creatures, She analyzed. Although she was beginning to doubt whether she should regard this particular mermaid as a accurate and valid representative of said race.

In a carefully controlled voice, she asked, 'That would be unfair, wouldn't it? You are a fish."

"Half fish! I am only half fish, and I resent you for saying so. Don't think I'll go easy on you just because you don't have a tail."

She decided it was not a good idea to steer the conversation towards racial differences. She cleared her throat and said in a soothing tone.

"My apologizes. I did not mean to insult you."

Tisha had turned her face away and refused to meet her eyes. She had the sudden vision of trying to soothe a ten years old whose favorite teddy bear had been taken away. The age difference could not have been too great, even though she knew nothing about mermaid physique. She had been able to pull off that angry pouting look a few years ago, it had always won her whatever her whines desired, especially from Will. She smiled fondly at the memory of a ten year old Will.

"You are all the same. You are just like that...that.... stupid wish..."

She looked up quizzically at the unfinished sentence. Tisha had one hand over her mouth and a horrified expression on her face.

"Wish? Wish...what?"

"Nothing. A slip of tongue." Tisha squeaked.

A few moment of silence followed. Tisha had a strangely vacant look on her face, like somehow she had retracted back into some kind of shell like a snail.

Elizabeth wanted to investigate further, but reminded herself there were other more pressing matters. Matters such as the whereabouts of her fiancé, but she was certain that with Will in Tortuga and Jack on the loose, they would eventually run into each other. They always did, like the opposite ends of a magnet, forever pulled towards one another and impossibly hard to pry apart once they met.

She chuckled at her own metaphor, but those facts comforted her. She had always suspected that Will had a slight case of hero worshipping, which he would no doubt never admit it. Jack was an old friend of Will's father, and the younger man had always looked up to him. For the majority of their journey, Will had followed Jack around like a puppy dog, hanging around to the flamboyant pirate's every words and had hardly spared any extra attention to her. If Will had not been engaged to her, she would have wondered about the relationship between the two men.

//Well, he does have the blood of a pirate in him, and I guess Jack is the closest that Will can ever get to know his own father.//

Elizabeth glanced at Tisha from the corner of her eyes. The mermaid's information was most well timed and welcoming since she was almost crazed with worry. She was also glad for the distraction that Tisha provided. She had spent over a week on a ship full of pirates. Not to be insulting, but they were not exactly the best conversationalists, even when they managed to remain sober for any duration of time. Furthermore, in her opinion, rum, women and comparison of the size of a certain anatomy part were not the best topics for cultured, or even idle talk.

"What exactly is the race for?" She asked, attempting to draw Tisha back into the conversation.

"You *haven't* been listening to me!" Tisha fumed, "It's for Will's love!"

"Ah... I see."

"No, you don't see. You think I am a kid, don't you! I am *hundreds* of year older than you."

"You are very well preserved."

"Really? Thank you, I mean I did spend a lot of time..... Hey! Don' change the subject!"

Well, that didn't work very well, Elizabeth sig Sh She knew her confidence in Will sometimes broadlined on arrogant assumption. But Will had never even glanced at another girl and she had always been the only object of his undivided affection. She still found it hard to believe sometimes that the awkward boy she first saw on the floating board grew into such a handsome and noble man. Even more miraculous, that man loved her and would devote the rest of his life to her.

"Does Will love you?" She asked Tisha.
r...r.... I.... don't know, but I am going to find out."

"Then I assumed he didn't know you were challenging his fiancé."

"I....I was getting to that." said Tisha defensively.

"But Will loves me... didn't Zeke tell you?"

She hadn't meant to exhibit her superiority in the matter, but she didn't want the mermaid to have any illusions neither. No matter how confident she was, Tisha was very beautiful and a potential competition. Still she couldn't help but chide herself slightly at the ludicrous idea.

"Zeke? That....that..... despicable liar. His words are not to be trusted."

Elizabeth speculated a unpleasant history behind that accusation, but decided to put the question off for later. Her next statement was used to convince Tisha as well as herself.

"But if you truly love someone, wouldn't you want that person to be happy, even if that happiness is not obtained with you?"

"I....don't know." Tisha hesitated, then said in a determined voice. "And if Will does love someone else....me for example. Would you be so self-sacrificing and let him goes?"

Elizabeth didn't know what to say. She didn't think that scenario would ever happen, but she had grown from that naive and sheltered girl, and the pursuit for the stolen medicine had been giving her a bad vibe from the very start. This discussion was also quickly getting out of her hands.

"I....I would....let him go."

That was a lie. Elizabeth knew it and she thought that the mermaid must know it as well.

"Then we are simply different. Happiness is something you have to fight for, to be loved is a luxury."

Luxury? Elizabeth could not wrap her logic around that concept. Was it a luxury to be loved by Will? People always said that one only realizes something was precious when that something was lost. She did not want to test the truthfulness in that theory and hoped that she never would.

"And don't think I'll let you off the hook, I am still challenging you to a race. We are going to swimming from here to that ugly ship with the black sails, the first one there wins!"

"Wait, ship with the black sails! It's still around here?"

Tisha nodded. Bless good old Mr. Gibbs, she sent a silent thanks to whatever god was listening. She was concerned with the possibility that the Black Pearl might have bailed out, but the crews had proven to be a royal punch.

"Tell me where the ship is."

~~~*~~~

The Dauntless was guarded by a predictably small number of soldiers. His plan was simple and it had worked beautifully. He had send a small group of men to the town and started a brawl. In his experience, it wouldn't be difficult to initiate a fight. The streets of Tortuga were prowled with men and women who were just edging for a good quarrel. And by the black smoke raising from the distant, the brawl had grown to a exceedingly severe magnitude.

He had also ordered one of the men to be disguised as him, which had guaranteed to lure the commodore away. Even more fortunately for him, the commodore had taken most of the soldiers from all three ships with him.

He was slightly touched by Norrington's display of obvious loathing and sturdy resolution. He hadn't known that he was held in such high regard by the most notorious pirate-hater in the Caribbean. It was very flattering.

Using the same trick with the boat that he had taught Will, his men had sneaked on board undetected. One by one, the guards posted on the upper deck were snipped off. That only left the bridge and the lower decks, which he had isolated from the rest of the ship with the help of a few steel bars and sand bags.

He crouched beneath the wind sail of the bridge. There were only a few voices inside. One he recognized, a lieutenant named Gilley?....Gilte?....Gill something. He motioned his men to surround the exits and windows.

He pulled one men close and whispered. "Go find th' lass. Search th' the most posh rooms."

The man nodded and made a couple of gestures to bid a few others to follow him. Jack drew his pistol and held it firmly in his hand. Then he stood up and kicked open the door.

"Gentlemen! Pardon my intrusion."

The rest of his men followed inside. The red coats were gaping at him stupidly and the young lieutenant was blinking owlishly.

He continued. "It's time for my daily massacre. So be so kind to drop yer weapons and throw yerselves overboard."

No one moved. Jack lowered his pistol, shook his head and punched the nearest marine on the nose. The bridge of the Dauntless erupted into chaos. His men leaped from behind him and joined the fight.

He dodged a sword swing aimed at his head, rolled out of the way of a incoming feet and delivered a sharp kick against the offending leg. He smirked as he heard the sound of bone breaking.

Another man came up from his left, he brought his sword up to deflect the blow. It was the young lieutenant. He flicked his blade in a twisting motion around the other sword and pushed the younger man aggressively towards the wall. Their blades were locked and he pressed the sharp edge of his sword lightly against the other man's throat.

"Surrender." He warned in a plaintive tone.

A spit and a hard shove were his replies. He rolled his eyes and brought his knee up hard against the other man's shin. He grinned in triumph as the other man's eyes watered and almost bugged out. The clamoring rhythm of clashing blades was dying down around him. He surveyed their victory with a quick glance around. The men he sent out to find Elizabeth had also returned.

One of them stepped up and said, "we couldn'nd hnd her, captain. She is not in th' captain's quarter or any of th' other fancy cabins. Shall we check th' lower decks?"

He jerked his head slightly in negative and directed his attention back to the man he still had pined against the wall. "Now, tell me where ye lots placed the lass."

The navy lieutenant was showing an uncharacteristic amount of backbone and baldness. Jack grimaced at the stubborn set of jaws and the scorching glare. He smacked the man across the face, pulled out his pistol from his belt and pointed it at the other man's crotch.

"Shall we try again? Where is th' lass?"

The young lieutenant winced, his expression was conflicted. Jack smiled and pressed the steel barrel harder against the front of the man's trouser.

"Stop! Stop! We lost her. She fall in the water and we couldn't find her."

The sentences were blurted out in one breath, and the other man's face had turned into a unhealthy shade of purple. Jack pondered the new information, careful not jumping to any conclusions.

//In the water. Lost..... she better not be dead!//

The whereabouts and wellness of the lass had a direct impact on Will's survival. If anything happened to her...... He did not finish that thought and clamped down firmly on his wayward imagination.

An urgent voice said behind him, "Captain, we've disabled the rudder chain on the other two ships, but there are signs of movement on their decks!"

He sneered and slammed the man in front of him against the wall with frustration. The young lieutenant had adopted a pained and sour look. He decided that he wouldn't be getting anything else from the man. With a heavy strike against the side of face, he sent the younger man into unconscious.

"Bound the rest of lots an' gag them. It's time to go!" He ordered.

The men obeyed instantly and set out to work. After the last sock was stuffed into the mouth of a struggling captive, they slipped quietly out of the room.

~~~*~~~

"You are NOT Jack Sparrow!" Norrington's furious voice roared.

//No shit, and thank devil for that.//

"Captain. It's captain Jack Sparrow."

Zeke corrected in his best drunk voice and bowed with a flourish wave of hand, imitating said captain. His posture infuriated the commodore further and earned him a vertical hack. He jumped backward, flipped in middle air with a flawless somersault and ld smd smoothly on top of the counter.

Norrington's advances did not pause. He leapt up and narrowly avoided being slashed on the feet. Glasses were crushed noisily beneath his boots. His movements sent more bottles to the ground, rums and other alcohol splashed the floor.

He hurled his body sideways and off the counter. A flare of downward air tricked the hair on the back of his neck. He swirled around and lifted his arm up just in time to block another hack.

The commodore had excellent swordsmanship and Zeke was finding it more and more laborious to parry the tenacious attacks, much less counter them. He was lamenting over the lost opportunities to learn fighting techniques when he was young. It just didn't pay to snooze in class when all the other good little demons were paying attention.

//Damn, you never know you need it until you need it.//

A heaving gasp escaped his throat as he was forcefully shoved against the wall. The point of a blade was thrusting straight towards his face. His eyes narrowed and he slashed the hand that was gripping his neck with the hidden dagger inside his sleeve.

Blood stained the neatly pressed white fabric into a light shade of maroon. Norrington flinched back, held his injured wrist in the other hand and sneered.

"You cheated!"

"Pirate."

Before the commodore could completely recover, Zeke moved. With inhuman reflexes, he took a held of one arm and hailed Norrington over his shoulder. The commodore hit the floor with a loud impact and laid there dizzily.

He kicked the other man's sword away and placed both knees firmly on top of out stretching arms. He bent down over the prone form, pressed the edge of his dagger against exposed throat and taunted into the snarling face.

"Giving up?"

"You... you....."

Norrington was gritting his teeth so hard that his gums were turning white.

"I, I...."

Zeke laughed and cocked his head to the side. Deja Vu. This scene was getting strangely familiar.

"Your name. What is your name?" Norrington bite out, "I won't forget it."

"Ezekiel Black, at your service."

Zeke was having fun. Anger was rolling off the commodore in waves, he pressed his nose down against the vulnerable skin under the chin and inhaled. It was sweet and intoxicating. He wanted to slice open that marble flesh and feel the essence of life poured out onts has hands. He wanted to find out whether the man's blood was as hot and fierce as his spirit.

//Here is another repressed one. I am beginning to think there might be something wrong with the British.//

His hand slipped and a thin red line appeared, the droplets of crimson blood contrasted sharply against the silver metal. He hadn't meant to do that. Dusky eyes blinked and stared into equally widen blue eyes.

He pulled the dagger back slightly and mused darkly about this situation. Norrington had not been the most likable person, but deep down he was a decent and honorable man. The commodore also had a keen sense of justice, which annoyingly reminded him of another stubborn bastard. Killing him would only serve to aid the competition.

//No way am I shipping the fluffy white wings any more help.//

He loosed his grip on the dagger and put his hands on either side of the commodore as if to push himself up.

"This isn't over. I swear that I'll avenge this humiliation. This won't be the last time we crossed blades."

Zeke blinked again, momentarily thrown off by the conviction in that voice.

".....you are the first person to ever say that."

//Most people would be screaming and running in the opposite direction to get away from me.//

"And you are certainly welcome to try."

//Rest assured, I will see you again. Those wounds are not going to heal otherwise.//

He smiled happily. From the corner of his eyes, he can see Anamarie begin retreating towards the door. Everyone inside the bar, pirates or British soldiers alike, were either still engaging in combats or lying motionlessly against some solid surface.

It was time to go, he decided.

He pushed hard with his hands and his body span a perfect half circle in the air. In less than a second, his toes touched down soundlessly on the floor a safe distance from Norrington. The commodore was slowly getting up, glaring hatefully at him and gingerly running his fingers across the wound on his neck, smearing blood everywhere.

He stood up and casually hit the oil lamp on the table beside him. The lamp fell and broke. The flame caught the alcohol on the ground and spread like wild fire.

He gave Norrington a mock salute and bounced out of the door.

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chapter 16
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Zeke brought the dagger close and licked the blood off the blade. Anamarie glanced at him with disgust. He winked at her and put the now-clean dagger back into his sleeve.

"Hurry up and roll the boat." She said in a harsh whisper.

He obliged without much enthusiasm. He hadn't been supplying himself with his minimum daily requirement of pain and suffering lately, and the commodore's blood tasted too..... sweet. It just did not have that spiced favor of the damned.

//Good thing I am not one of those who feeds on blood or emotion, otherwise I would have been starved by now.//

The district part of Tortuga was engulfed in a blazing fire. They could hear the calling and screaming of people from a good distance away. Zeke stared dreamily at his handy work and let the feeling of pure euphoria sat inside his stomach with luxurious slowness. //F //Fire is so pretty.//

"Did you really have to start that fire?"

He cracked his head slightly to the side at Anamarie. For a pirate, she had surprisingly hioraloral stands. He smiled at her angelically. He had been told that his smile could charmed the pants off even the gatekeepers of hell, although it had never worked on the people he wanted to.

"I wanted to stop the navy from pursuing us."

That was a perfectly legitimate reason. Anamarie could also see that, she grunted and went back to the oar.

Thisningning had started out incredibly lousy with the captain's way-off-scale suspicion. Jack Sparrow might not looked the brainy type, but Zeke could still envision the constant turning of gears in the pirate captain's head. Jack was a man who always had a plan.

Zeke pitted him on his restlessness, he heard that too much scheming would make a man bald before his age. Although the pirate certainly did not use his head when it was needed. The sheer amount of gun powder, that is figuratively speaking, in his kitchen early that evening was enough to light up the entire Caribbean.

//There was plentiful of jealousy all right. Ha, Ursella, eat your heart out.//

There was a solid thump and Zeke felt his oar connect with something. He looked at Anamarie who had stopped pulling her oar.

"What was that?" She asked.

Zeke leaned over the side of the boat and searched the water. Anamarie edged towards his side of the boat and looked over his shoulder.

"Can you see anything?" She asked again.

It was well pass midnight. The sky and the ocean were both covered by capes of darkness. The line which usually separated the two was indistinguishable, there was only the blackness stretched endlessly like a hollow void. The moon would occasionally peep from behind thick clouds and showered the surface of the sea with silver sparkles like mercury.

He narrowed his eyes and felt his vision came into sharp focus. The pupils inside gray eyes reshaped into thin slits for one instant and retracted back just as quickly.

A flash of ivory was translucent through the murkiness of the water. Locks of silky threads were flying wildly in the water as if they were wind strewn.

Zeke had an unpleasant flashback involved a certain mermaid. He stared harder into the water. The shape was sinking deeper and deeper. The opposite direction of motion would be expected, he thought, if it was indeed the fish.

"I think it's a girl."

"What!"

Anamarie shouted and bend herself down further. The sudden movement rattled the balance of the boat and swayed it violently to one side. He almost bit his own tongue and hastily put all his weight onto the other side. He really did not fancy another trip down the sea.

The other pirate turned her head and watched him with amusement as he pried his fingers off the side of the wooden boat, one by one. He stared back evenly.

"Will you be saving the girl?" She asked.

"I can't swim." He replied dryly.

She raised both hands towards the sky in a 'why me' gesture before jump off the boat and dived into the sea. Zeke turned his face slightly as splashes of water hit his side.

The smooth surface of the sea was disoriented for a few seconds before the following tides covered the disturbance and buried it underneath the waves.
wai waited. There were nothing but strings of bubbles at uneven intervals. He waited some more.

Anamarie's head broke through the water. Her black hair were loosened from their red band and plastered around her face and over her shoulder. Zeke offered her his hand. She accepted the help wearily and pulled herself into the boat, along with another limp body.

She patted the other girl gingerly on the back. The girl coughed while inhaled the air with feverish urgency.

Zeke smiled happily at their discomfort. This really was turning out to be his evening and things had just gotten a lot more interesting.

"Nice to see you again, Miss. Elizabeth."


~~~*~~~


"We couldn't find her."

Will watched that perfectly shaped mouth move. His breath hitched as a pink tongue rolled out and wetted the bottom lip. He stared transfixed at the shiny layers of moistures, as they added even more lushness to those already irresistible petals.

"Will?"

Jack looked nervous at hnresnresponsiveness. The pirate captain walked up to the bed and put a palm against his forehead. The warmth in that touch sent a ray of quiver down his spine and jolted him out of his trance.

"Yer temperature are still a little high."

"I...I'm fine."

"....did ye hear me? We couldn't find Elizabeth."

The mention of his fiancé thrust a pang of guilt straight through his heart with razor-sharpness. He folded deeper into the blankets.

"The red coats lost her."

"Did.... did they say where...."

"Nay. They told me she fell in the water and they couldn't find her."

He felt as if he was encapsulated inside a small and sealed box, which was tumbling down a steep hill. Every where he touched, there was the darkness and the brick wall. He was suffocating while the uncertainty and impending danger of the situation jabbed him sharply from all angles. He was not looking forward to hit the bottom.

"Is she.... is she...?"

He could not bring himself to finish the question, but there was understanding in Jack's kohl outlined eyes.

"The lass knows how to swim.... and it would have been the perfect opportunity to get away from the commodore."

"O..of course."

"She is all right."

Large hands clasped around his shoulders. The assurance, or perhaps just plain stubbornness in
Jack's voice was enough to rinse away the doubts that surrounded his heart. From those four words, a dawning hope was granted to him.

He was not arrogant enough to think that he could pry away all that pretense, which the pirate wore like a armor. However, he did pride himself on the fact that he could see through the illusion that the other projected to the world. Jack Sparrow was one of the most cunning and intelligent man he had ever known, no matter how opposite the pirate might have acted.

//If Jack said she is all right, then she is.//

"I've given words to look out for anything out in the sea. The Pearl hasn't moved that far from where we were, she will find us."

"I know."

Ebony eyes blinked, surprised at the almost blind faith in that reply. Then Jack withdrew his hands abruptly and stepped away. He looked up at the other with confusion. Jack laughed half heartily, the sound was like nail scratching in his ears.

"Well, as long as ye know. Just leave everything to captain Jack Sparrow."

His left hand reached out towards that unshaven face and Jack flinched back. He froze, heart clenched painfully at the distance that the other insisted on wedge between them.

"Jack, I...."

"Ye are probably tired. I'll let ye rest now."

"Jack!"

He yelled before the pirate could bolt from the room. His brain screamed at him to let the man go. His logic reasoned that time would dissolve whatever animosity between them. But his heart was recoiling in pain at the increasing space which separated them. He could no longer stand it.

//Does he hate me now?//

Was it too late? Was everything irreversible? Did Jack despise him so much that the pirate could no longer bear to be close to him? He wanted to explain everything. He wanted to tell Jack that he wanted him, and god have mercy on his soul, loved him. He would understand if the pirate could never return his feelings, if all he would ever have was friendship. It would have been enough to watch the other man from afar, to swallow down his affection until it aged into a constant bitter sweet ache.

It would have to be enough.

//But would it be worth it?//

There were endless possible reactions the pirate captain could have to his confession, and most of them were not encouraging. If he upset this false security and jaded politeness between them, he could unleash the hidden turbulence that would sweep away whatever little he had left. He could not see any middle ground in which his feelings could be balanced with the crashing reality.

//To keep what I have or to lose everything in striving for more.//

Neither way, he could no longer bear wit to to the fragility that has became their friendship. Everything that tied them together was dangling on the verge of a bottomless abyss. Or perhaps their friendship had already been shattered beyond repair and he was only holding onto the broken pieces in denial.

//No. No.//

The pure agony which accompanied that prospect was drilling a crater inside his chest. The pain was far worse than any illness or injuries that he had ever experienced or sustained, far worse than even those previously initiated in him by the possibility of losing Elizabeth.

//I must do something.//

He did not know what that something was, but he knew that he would do anything for things to be the way they were before. If he could never have anything more, then at least allow him the comforts of their routine interaction and the chance to drift back to what was left of his ignorance.

Jack had already moved half way to the door. He panicked and opened his mouth. Nothing came out. The simultaneous thrill and dread rising in his lungs were strangling him.

"What do I have to do?" He choked out.

"What?"

"What do I have to do?" He repeated.

"Will? What are ye..."

"TELL ME!"

His outburst startled Jack, whose expression was disarrayed with a mixture of concern and indignation. He tried to quite his pounding heart with large gulps of air to no avail.

"Will? What's wrong?"

Jack has half kneed in front of him and the pirate's hands was hovering so close to his cheeks. So close yet not close enough. He felt the shifting of air reverberate softly against his skin, sensitized by the wetness on his cheeks. He did not realize that he was crying. He sucked in another breath.

"...please, just tell me."

"Tell ye what, ...?"

The question seemed oddly unfinished, as if Jack had braked against the sentence at the last moment. His early bravo had already deserted him, and he was drained of all courage to continue.

"Tell me what I have to do?"

"To do what?"

Jack was patiently drawing out each response from him. The pirate's palms were still close, but still not touching him.

"What I have to do to fix this."

"Fix? There is nothing to fix, Will."

"There is.....there is, tell me what I have to do. Anything, I'll do anything. Just... please....you have to tell me....."

His voice died down to silent weeping. He bit the inside of his mouth to prevent the sobbing from getting any louder. The tightness in his heart had no name, yet it was as real and defined as any solid object.

"Will...."

There was pleading in Jack's voice. He tried to control his labored breathing and his melancholic thoughts.

"Will!"

A second voice cried from behind Ja Nei Neither of them had noticed that the door had been opened. He raised his face to where Elizabeth was standing, and staring at him with joy and relief.

~~~*~~~

He closed the door quietly behind him and sagged against the wall beside it. Cold air rushed towards his face and washed away the last vestige of uneasiness. The growing emptiness that was eating him from the inside out, was complimented by the somber tides of the sea and the black ink of the sky above.

"Captain?"

Anamarie's concerned voice appeared in front of him. He looked up at the female pirate. She was completely wet and her clothes were glued against her body, showing every curve. Jack would have made a few smart-ass comments about the deliciously of the view if he was in his usually mind set.

"Anamarie." He said in terms of greeting.

"Are you all right?"

"Perfect, just perfect."

The bitterness must had soaked through the brick response despite his best effort. Anamarie raised one elegant eyebrow, clearly showed that his pathetic attempts at covering up was not bought. He shrugged and did not bother to explain himself further. Better let her think there was something wrong rather than have her know there was something wrong.

"How did ye find th' lass?"

He tried lamely to redirect the conversation towards a safer ground. She stared at him intently for a few more seconds, before shrugged as well, apparently decided to drop the subject, for now.

"You won't believe this, but on our way back, the cook hit her on the head with the oar.... accidentally of course."

"Oh?"

"Aye, and I had to dive down to save her. Did you know that Zeke can't swim?"

"I don't believe he mentioned somethin'g like that..... but he does tend to have a unusual amount of good luck."

"No more so than you, captain."

"Ah, of course not. I am, after all, captain Jack Sparrow."

He was grateful for her gentle teasing, and laughed softly a few times, although the sound was joyless.

"Ye didn't tell th' lass about Will, did ye?"

"She was *most* persistent. I told her as much as I know, but I think she was a bit skeptical with it all.....would it cause any problem?"

"....what's done can not be undone. ......and th' job in Tortuga was nicely done.... from what I can see over here."

The grayish fume had shot straight from Tortuga; the pillar of smoke was visible from even their current well-hidden location between the cliffs. The smoke had gathered around and loomed above the town like a layer of thick fog.

"That was the cook." Anamarie snarled good naturally.

"Was it?.... well, I always did thought th' lad was something of a pyromaniac."

"And apparently had a appetite for blood." She added.

"Ah, which unlucky bastard did he cut up this time?"

"Commodore Norrington."

He chuckled. "That was to be expected."

He tried to imagine the commodore's face when the man had a overly sharp dagger at his throat. He still recalled the first time he met Zeke. He had felt like he was about to be dissected by those slate eyes. The cook still crept him out from time to time, which was an admirable feat in itself.

"Is he dead?"

"Nay, but the commodore will no doubt be after us with more determination now."

That would depends on the severity of the wounds, he thought silently to himself. For some reason, those that Zeke hurt did not tend to live long. When the cook first came aboard, more than one man had tried to force their ways into the youth's pants. They had lost two crewmen due to unstoppable bleeding, and no one bothered the cook after that.

"That he would.....which is why we ar' setting sail now."

"Now?"

"The wind is strong an' we have the cover of the night. Go wake up th' rest of th' lazy slackers."

"Aye, captain."

Anamarie turned and finally left him in peace. He closed his eyes and relaxed into the gentle sway of the ship beneath his feet. Behind tightly shut eye lids, Will's tear streaked face waill ill haunting him with vicious persistence.

//I... made him cry.//

Dark lashes brightened by moisture, fluttered softly against pale cheeks like butterfly wings. Crystal droplets of tears slide down like broken strings of pearl necklaces.

//What would they have tasted like?//

They would have tasted bitterly salty like the sea, ash coppery like his bleeding heart and honey sweet like Will. He had to bite his bottom lip to relinquish the insane urge to lick away the wetness. He knew if he had followed his impulse, he wouldn't be able to stop.

//I would have wanted more.//

More of the tears, more of the soft skins, more of the warm flesh. But he had vowed on whatever honor he had left, that he would not succumbed to his darkest and basest needs. Not when Will was stweakweak and would be helpless to resist his advances, and not when the youth's heart belonged to another.

//I had to get away then.//

His obsession with the youth had sprouted to almost uncontrollable proportion. He had always been fascinated by the blacksmith, ever since the first time they've met. But now just being near the youth was no longer enough. The glances and the touches could not satisfy his ever-widening hunger.

//But he doesn't need ye, not when his bonny lass is here.//

He was plagued by the memory from those few minutes inside the alley. He had a single taste and was instantly hooked. There wasn't a single minute that went by when he wasn't thinking about Will.

He looked down on his hands, the same hands that were so close to Will. So close, yet not close enough.

//If Elizabeth hadn't come in.....//

That was when he heard the scream. He jumped and yanked open the door. Elizabeth stumbled out, swirled around and ran as if the devil himself was on her trail.

He gawked at her retreating back before snapped around and entered the room.

"Will?"

The room was completely ingrossed in blackness, his left foot hit the oil lamp that was laying on the floor. The broken glasses squeaked and the lamp rolled out of sight.

"Will?"

He called again. There was soft sniffing from the direction of the bed. He walked up to the dark bundle trembling on the bed. He swallowed and half kneed in front of the bed.

"Will? What happened?"

He started to unravel the blankets-warpped form slowly, layer by layer. Will's eyes were strangely bright in the darkness, he swallowed at the look of stark terror in brown orbs. He untangled covers from limps with maneuverability and long practices. Will murmured something under staging breathing.

"Her touch hurt me."

A streak of long red mark was spotted on each shivering shoulders. They wer thi thick as the width of a human arm, horizontal and cycled around like rope burns.

//Oh, god.//

His heart clenched and he caress the tender flesh with his finger tips. Will sucked in a another breath at his careful ministration.

"Why? Why did her touch hurt me?"

He felt deflated under that searching gaze. He had no answer.

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chapter 17
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Will was tossing and turning. His forehead was damp and his night shirt was soaked through. His pale face lacked the usual relaxation from the abandonment brought by sleep, instead it was troubled as if chased by some ghostly shadows.

Jack stared at the boy worriedly. He had been trying to sleep for the last three hours, but the sandman had rejected him over and over. He propped his upper body up with one elbow, and looked down on the boy's steadily moving chest, as it rose and fell with each breath.

*** I am cold. Stay with me? ***

The brunette had simply turned those liquid brown eyes at him, red from crying and deadlier than any weapon. He had melted and climbed inside the covers obediently.

The youth had burrowed himself into Jack's chest and slipped into slumber soon afterward, while Jack was wide awake, was still wide awake.

He could not sleep with Will beside him...especially not with Will beside him and on the same bed. His admittedly perverted mind was stocked with possibilities of what else he could be doing with the boy, the bed and several exotic and creative positions.

//Think something else, something not arousing.//

Predictably his efforts had the exact opposite effect. His train of thoughts was beginning to sidetrack. He cursed at himself and scrambled through his brain for the most disgusting images that he could conjured up.

Barbossa in that oversized hat and nothing else. Elizabeth and Anamarie making out. Although that was...strangly hot. Norrington and that pretty lieutenant sucking faces. He wouldn't be surprised if they did; he had seen the way the commodore glanced at Will.

Will, beautiful Will, beautiful Will who was lying beside hi..... The more he tried to stop thinking about the boy, the more he thought about him.

//Damn ye, William Turner.//

The boy groaned softly in sleep and his breathing sped up. Will turned slightly to face him, and the red marks around his shoulder became visible in the moonlight.

Jack's heart skipped.

*** Her touch hurt me. ****

*That* memory had quenched the boiling inside his groin. He fell back to his side of the bed and covered his eyes with the back of his hands.

Had his hypothesis been wrong? Or was he on the wrong path to start with?

*** Why? Why did her touch hurt *** ****

He did not know what to say at the time. He still would not know what to say if Will should ask him the same question.

He shuffled through the disarrayed evident as the explanation hanged just at the edge of his thoughts. All the clues were getting more and more tangled. This parry of inscrutability was like a Russian doll, one mystery inside another.

Or perhaps, the answer was in plain sight, and he was the one who was too blinded and distracted by the supposed reaction to focus on the actual reaction.

He had a feeling that Will was trying to tell him something early that evening. He also had a feeling that whatever it was, it had the potential to alter his life forever. He had wanted to know, but the torment in those expressive eyes had alarmed him. If it had pained Will to such extend to just think about it, then it couldn't have been something good. At the same time his survival instinct had been screaming at him to let the matter pass and divert the boy's attention to elsewhere, there was the strangest sense of anticipation lurking at the pit of his stomach.

//Perhaps Will wanted to tell me that he loves someone else.//

It was entirely possible, since Elizabeth apparently did not have any observable positive effect on the boy's condition. Furthermore, the burns on Will and the lass's early reaction were not too encouraging neither.

But he had already established the fact that Will's illness was nothing natural. Both Will and Zeke had hinted on the involvement of magic and whatever spell must had something to do with emotion..... maybe love, or at the very least lust.

He himself could vouched for that.

Lust, he thought bitterly, since when did Captain Jack Sparrow become so selective about his bed partner and stopped being satiated by just lust? And the turn of event had opened the door to endless possibilities, he mused.

//Will might love someone else....someone like...me?//

No, he told himself sternly. Perish the thought. Nip the bud before it blossoms. There was no point in building up false hope. He knew himself well, perhaps too well. When the pend up emotion reached its pivot point, there would be no where else to go but down.

He knew that if he allowed this fantasizing to continue, he would tell the boy, most likely in the worst place at the worst time. People had always said that he had asy liy lives as a cat, but Will's hatred and disgust could, and would kill him.

He had tried to comfort the boy to the best of his abilities. He had wrapped the blankets around Will like a cocoon. The gesture was a poor substitute for a shield, perhaps it was only the imitation of a shield or the mere promise of it. But it was one built with all the silent yearning and tenderness he could gushed out from his heart without bleeding himself dry.

//The only logical thing to do right now would be to go after the priest. And I can guess where they would be going, to where *he* is.//

By his calculation, it would take another two days before they reach Isle de Las Aves. It was one of the most forgotten island in the West Indies and situated almost right in the middle of the Caribbean. It was said that the island was getting smaller every year because it was being swallowed slowly by the sea. The water surrounded the island was nearly impossible to navigate through and had entombed many ships from long ago.

The island of Las Aves was also rumored to be cursed. Although Jack knew better. He grew up there.

He had not returned in over twenty five years. There was nothing there now. Nothing, but the coven for the most notorious pirate gang on all seven seas and the wreckage remain of a broken past. A past which had recurred in and terrorized his dreams for so long.

The island held some of his most precious memories, but it was also the burial ground for the ones who gave him those memories.

Sometimes he wondered what his life would have been like if he had not saved that stranger from the beach. Would he have eventually ceded his childhood dream of exploring the sea until his back bent from the responsibilities that would eventually be weighted upon him? Would he have stayed with the others in self-exile until old age wore him down and all chances of sailing were past him? Would he have been happy living in the blissful simplicity of the ignorant?

Lately those thoughts had beginning to scare him. Not for the loss of freedom they symbolized, that he could learn to bear.... given enough time. Imprisonment of body did not mean imprisonment of heart. The fear was for the fact that if he had stayed in Isle de Aves, he would never have met Will.

That thought scared him even more, and brought forth an emotion which he had disregarded when he chose the path of piracy.

Guilt.

Jack sighed and settled himself deeper into the nest made of mattress and blankets. A flare of tremor ran through the body beside him. He tightened his arms around the boy and nuzzled into chestnut hair.

He did not notice the small gap between the door and the wall, and the hitched breathing from the other side.


~~~*~~~


The Black Pearl was sailing at full speed. It's magnificent fans unfolded to full size and took the
strains of the blowing wind with ease. Great oars reached out from both side of the ship like giant arms. Their circular motion unleashed massive force with each downward push and cut through the waves like knife through butter. The fluid design of the body allowed Bla Black Pearl to part through the water like a needle, separate the waves at the prow and reunited them at the rear.

Zeke looked out through the window of his kitchen at the first blush of the morning.

The red and gold glows of the eastern sky painted an layer of pink over the ocean. All was quiet, except the splashing of r agr against wood and the faint chattering of the night shift crews.

It was still too early to cook breakfast, and he allowed himself to immerse in the quietness of the moment. He was usually the first one awake since he did not need as much sleep as regular humans did. Even though he had always thought sunrise to be terribly cheerful and exhilarating, it was the only time that the ship could attain anything even resembling sincerity and peace.

He poked his head out of the window and smelled the freshness of morning air mingled with the briny scent lingered from last night.

The kitchen was located at the rear of the ship just below the deck which held the captain's quarter. The white foams produced by the constant clasping between the ship and the ocean tides were spread out like snow flakes.

A small twinkle of emerald would appear there and then between surges of swaying waves. Zeke looked down with amusement at the mermaid who had been tagging the ship since last night. He watched the small green dot began gaining speed, until it was right below his window.

With a powerful sway of grassy scaled tail, she jumped high above the water and latched onto the net hanged at the rear of the ship.

He supported both elbows against the window sill and rested his chin on upturned palms. Tisha was struggling with the coarse entanglement of thin ropes.

She raised her head and immediately spotted him.

He flashed her a bright smile and gave her a little wave with two fingers, but retained from commenting on the her ridiculous position. However, his mockery must had been apparent in his expression, because she balled her fists and shook them angrily at him.

One instant of stillness passed between them with deceptive slowness, before her eyes widened, finally realized that her hands were no longer gripping the net.

Zeke almost fell over when he caught the uproarious funny expression on her face. She flailed her arms wildly around her to little avail before gravity pulled her down, and she fell into the sea with a less than graceful stance.

The door of the kitchen creaked open.

He turned his head as Elizabeth walked in. She was still wearing the nightgown from when Zeke last saw her. Her shoulders were slugged in defeat and her eyes were swollen from crying. Zeke blinked at the shabbiness of both clothes and spirit from the usual tidy and energetic girl.

"Good morning, Miss. Elizabeth."

Her head snapped up. She smiled guilty at him like a child whose hand had just been caught in the cookie jar.

"G...good morning, Zeke. I didn't know anyone was up this early."

"I am usually the first one to wake up."

"Oh, I...I like early morning, too. The air is so refreshing."

"Exactly, morning is also the only time the ship is quiet."

"Yes it is."

"......."

"......."

Zeke stared at her vacuously. After all the usual pleasantries were exchanged, there was no more topics they could talk about, that was even remotely disassociated with a certain blacksmith. In other words, nothing that was harmless for idle chat.

"Is there anything I can do for you, Miss. Elizabeth?"

"N...no, I... I am fine."

She scrubbed her face with the back of her hands, but Zeke could still see the clear trails left by tears. A few crew members had witness her distress as she ran out from Will's cabin last night, and all kind of rumors have undoubtedly plagued the entire ship by now.

"Would you like some tea?"

She nodded in gratitude. He set out to boil some water using the iron stove. They both waited patiently for the wailing sound of stream. When the water was ready, he put out two clay mugs on the table and dug out a tin can of tea leaves from the cupboard. He sprinkled some leaves into the mugs and carefully poured the water inside. He put one mug in front of Elizabeth, who smiled shyly up at him.

"Those are herbs I got from the east, suppose to smooth your nerves."

"Thank you."

They sipped their teas in companionable silence for a few minutes, before Elizabeth asked abruptly.

"Zeke, have you ever loved someone?"

He blinked owlishly at the uneted ted question. Her face flushed and she dipped her head.

"It's....none of my business. I am sorry if I was too forward."

"....it's quite all right, Miss.Elizabeth."

"......"

"......"

"....well, have you?"

He sighed. Why did he always end up playing love counselor to teenage girls? Just which part of him said experienced in relationships. Sure he was over five thousand years old, but age did not equal wisdom and he had spend ninety nine percent of that time either sleeping or plotting revenge.

"I am afraid not, Miss. Elizabeth."

Contrast to popular belief, demons can love. One could not truly understand hatred without having something to compare it to. Love was, however, something of a myth and was extremely rare among his kind.

"Oh. Have you ever wanted to?"

"Love someone? No.....someone I kneld mld me once that, love makes all four seasons feel like winter."

"Ah."

"I don't like the cold."

She giggled slightly at that and the rigid lines around her mouth melted. He swallowed down the nauseating feeling issued by the fact that he had involuntarily lightened her mood.

"Let's say... hypothetically, if the person you love wanted someone else. What would you do?"

//Other than chain one to the bed and blast the other into oblivion. Damn... what would be the human thing to say..... oh, yeah.//

"I would... eh... want that person to be happy."

"Then you would let him go?"

"I... would."

The whole picture of the situation was gradually becoming clear to him now. It was not that complicated to fathom. Elizabeth knew, or at least suspected something.

"I couldn't."

"Couldn't, Miss. Elizabeth?"

"Couldn't let him go...."

"Will?"

"Y...yes." She was blushing furiously now.

"Then you should chain him to the bed and kill the competition."

Zeke deadpanned, then realized with dismay that said competition was his target. He wondered whether it was too late to rescind that advice.

"I can't do that!"

She looked horrified and stood up suddenly. Her chair fell backward on the floor with a loud impact. Then her expression darkened, "but I can't just give him up neither... I have to do something..... even... even if it meant that Jack will be hurt in the process."

Zeke watched as guilt and determination traveled through her face at the same time. There was nothing shameful in fighting for what one wanted, he wanted to tell her, it was a good thing, it meant that she was not completely hopeless after all.

Then he remembered that comforting her further would go against everything that he was taught and his very nature, so he clamped down on his unruly tongue.

"I...I have to go now." Elizabeth glanced up at him hesitantly, "Can you.... not mention our conversation to anyone?"

"....what conversation?"

He grinned to reassure her. Behind his back, his fingers were crossed. She smiled up at him unguardedly, turned and walked toward the door.


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