Witch

Witch, by Hellborne
Pirates of the Caribbean – Slash: Jack/Others, Jack/Will. NC-17.

Copyright. Characters, not mine. See the Mouse. Story, mine, but I make no money. He does, but not on this.

Typing convention: / is used for thoughts.

Archive: adult-fanfiction.org. If you want to put it elsewhere, no prob, just tell me the URL.

Beta: Now beta’d by my most perfect and wonderful Pendragginink and her magnificent Jackal! Hail to thee, oh modest and humble BetaGoddess!

Summary: What did Jack do to be tortured so? He would love to know. Torture, Rape, Lemon, Slash.

NOTE: I live for reviews. No reviews, no more writing. Can’t figure out if anyone likes it if they don’t review. So REVIEW! PLEEEEEEZE???

A/N: Littlebird: Unfortunately, the medieval church was generally of a mind to torture the person till they confessed, then kill them BECAUSE THEY WERE A WITCH, thus allowing the soul of the condemned to go to heaven. I couldn’t have them kill CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow, now could I? Jack’s a trickster, yes. I’ve always seen him that way, and my favorite commentary on the DVD is the one with the writers, as they explain it there FULLY…even comparing him to Bugs Bunny. However, Jack is also a wise man…wise-ass, usually, but generally wise and learned. He’s NOT going to give in when he knows that to do so would mean his certain death…not when he’s hoping to be rescued. And by the time he’d given up on being rescued, his mind was entombed in pain…so although he knew he mustn’t admit to being a witch, he couldn’t’ really remember why. I don’t usually explain my thoughts, but this time I thought I’d better, as I know Jack seemed OOC during the first chapters. I hope this explains it sufficiently.

Jackfan2: You’d think you were in my brain with some of that. Yes, Will will be helping Jack with his convalescence, etc. However, there are a couple of points where you must have been drinking too much rum while poking in my head, since they’re completely wrong. But I’ll leave that for when I get to them… Thank you for the long and insightful review! BTW, one hint for you. Dr. Abernathy is a churgeon in a torture chamber. If you know much about history, he could get much of the same anatomy training as Leonardo Di Vinci…but from living anatomy, not corpses. That’s your hint. Let’s see what you can make of it.

Melanie (in case you actually read this): In response to “poorly written and unclear,” I was writing from specific points of view, the primary one being the victim of the tortures. Since it was not a “omniscient” POV, it could not be written clearer. As for removing it, I believe that you are outnumbered…9 reviews so far, and yours is the only complaint (I *DO* remove stories that get too many complaints, as evidenced with “Metamorphosis”). However, because you mentioned that I was too vague in my description (even though the description was given in the viewpoint of the victim and therefore SUPPOSED to be warped), here are the actual write-ups that I gained these tortures from and from where I got them…

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Chapter 4 – Damages

Will stayed at the helm for the rest of the night, having called for a ship-wide blackout, hoping that the other ship wouldn’t see them as he changed course several times through the night. He ached to go in and check on Jack, but whenever he sent anyone in, they came out with the same response: “He’s still unconscious, and the doctor says he’s doing what he can.”

In the morning, there was no sign of the other ship, so he called Anamaria to the helm and retired to the Captain’s cabin that he shared with Jack.

When he reached the interior of the cabin, he found that the doctor had fairly bandaged Jack head to foot, splinting the dislocated bones and doing his best with the mangled foot. Jack was on his stomach, and blood seeped through the bandages on his back.

“Any news for me, doctor?”

Dr. Abernathy turned to him. “I’ve done everything that I can to help him short of re-creating the one foot completely. He’s been tortured beyond any man or woman I’ve seen go in there. I’m surprised that he’s not dead, either of the drugs they gave him or the beatings he received even before the pendulum. It’s up to him whether he lives or dies.”

“Why is his back bleeding? I thought you had stitched it.”

“I stitched what skin was left, sir. He lost a good half of the skin off his back to their tortures. As I said, I’ve done what I can for now. If he survives, I should be able to do more after he grows some more skin. As for the foot, if I had a blacksmith I might be able to do something. It’s a long shot, but I know much more of anatomy than the average churgeon, as I was chosen by Cardinal Augustus Fernando to operate on various parts of his victims…more often than not while they were awake. So if you find a port with a gifted blacksmith, I’m fairly sure I could come up with something permanent for him to be able to function almost normally. Otherwise, it would be better to just cut it off, as it will give him pain for the rest of his life as it is.”

“Call me Will, Dr. Abernathy. And I am a blacksmith who specializes in swords.” He handed the doctor his sword, hilt first. “Is this the detail that you need?”

Abernathy’s eyes widened as he smiled. “Yes. You would be perfect for this. Tell me, can you create small things…tiny things…made of gold?”

“Yes, I’ve created several small things. Jack has a set of golden lock picks that I made for him that he keeps in his desk.” He got them and showed them to the doctor.

The doctor looked like he’d die of happiness. “Excellent! My boy, this will be a great feat for both of us…let alone a great foot for your Captain…if he survives to see it.” He looked over at Jack, as did Will. “And if he approves of it.”

As the doctor explained what he wanted, Will’s eyes got wider and wider, as did his smile. “Yes, I believe I can make that. Give me life-sized drawings and I can do it.” The doctor sat at the desk and began to draw.

* - * - *

The next three days went well for the Pearl. No sight of the Cardinal’s ship made the crew feel much better, though they all worried about their captain, who had not gained consciousness, though had gone into and out of some very loud hallucinatory dreams. Will had strung up two hammocks in the captain’s quarters; one for the doctor, who didn’t want to leave Jack’s side even to eat, and Will, who likewise wanted to be with Jack whenever he wasn’t at the helm. He didn’t dare climb into bed with the pirate captain; he didn’t want the doctor to get the wrong (or right) idea (yet), and he didn’t think that Jack’s limp form could take the changes in gravity that he would cause climbing over or around him. He and the doctor took turns dribbling water into Jack’s mouth, making sure he didn’t choke on it.

Also during those three days, Will fired up his makeshift forge and made seven gold teeth and fitted them into Jack’s mouth. It pained him to make them, but it would pain him FAR more to see his Captain wake up without them. He also started making the various objects that the doctor had ordered, stringing them together as had been described. Anyone who saw them crossed themselves and hurried off. He had to concentrate on each single piece to keep from doing that himself.

Finally, during the middle of the third night, a groan was heard from the bed that didn’t sound like the others that they’d heard throughout his hallucinations. It was clearer, and with it came a string of curses that made the doctor blush and Will grin. They both ran to the bed and looked down at Jack’s face.

His eyes were open, and he didn’t show any pain. Will knew better. This was CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow, and he wouldn’t show that he was in pain to just anybody. Will had gained his trust, but he wasn’t sure if Jack would remember Dr. Abernathy.

“Mornin’, whelp.” Jack grinned, his new gold teeth looking better than the old ones as these matched each other in hue and the old ones didn’t.

Will smiled. “Welcome back to the living, Jack.”

Dr. Abernathy stepped in and held his eye open, looking carefully into it. “No sign of the drugs. How do you feel, Captain Sparrow?”

Jack looked at Will. “Who’s he? And why are things all fuzzy?”

Will looked at the doctor. The doctor shrugged. “I’m Dr. Abernathy. I’ve been taking care of you. Your vision is fuzzy because of some drugs that you were given several days ago. I’m surprised that your vision is still affected. They must have given you more than they give most people. It may pass, but it could be permanent. How fuzzy is your vision?”

“Oh, I can see well enough I suppose. But everything’s a bit blurry. So you’ve been takin’ care of me? Then tell me, doctor, what is wrong with me?”

Dr. Abernathy looked at him, apparently sizing him up as if to figure out if he should tell him. He shrugged. “How do your arms and legs feel?”

“Fine, really. A bit of a twinge here and there, but nothin’ I can’t live with.”

“Well they were dislocated at the knees, hips, elbows, and shoulders only three days ago. Let’s see. You have four broken ribs, but I’ve set them, so if you take it easy on them, they’ll heal just fine. Your back is a problem, though it will heal with time and a churgeon’s care. Me. But the biggest problem is your right foot. How does it feel?”

Will looked Jack in the eyes. “Be HONEST, Jack. He’s your doctor.”

Jack looked indignantly into Will’s eyes. “You have to tell ME to be honest? Why I NEVER—“

“That’s right you NEVER…you’d lie about your pain if someone handed you your leg mounted on a plaque. Now tell the doctor the truth about how your foot feels!” Will looked at him, annoyed.

Jack melted. He LOVED that look on Will, which is why he tried to get it so often. But he finally relented. “My foot, dear William, feels like it was run over by the Pearl run aground.” He turned to the doctor. “So tell me, doctor. What is wrong with it, and why have ye not fixed it as you have the rest of me?”

“Because they broke every bone in your lower leg, Captain Sparrow, and under normal circumstances, any doctor would have just removed the foot and had done with it. You would feel no pain from the foot, but you’d be walking with a crutch or on a peg. However, I believe that I may be able to fix it. There are no guarantees, but Will here has been helping me with the project, and I believe he is finished with his part. Will, could you get the item I had you create and show it to the captain?”

Will set his jaw and went to the desk, bringing over a long item wrapped in a blanket. It was about the right size to be a peg from the knee. Will unwrapped it and held it at an angle from which Jack could view it. It was solid gold, that was for sure. Jack looked at it for a moment, then grinned. It was beautiful, simply beautiful. Jack couldn’t wait to have it as his very own. It was a human skeleton lower leg and foot, complete with all the individual bones, wired together as the tendons would have done it.

“I take it you want me to wear that instead of a peg?”

“Not exactly, Captain. I wish to operate on your leg, remove the bones and insert this in their place. I’ve been made to attach tendons and muscles to foreign matter before, while in the Cardinal’s service. I believe this will work. And if it doesn’t, we can always remove the lower leg and give you a peg anyway. This would give you the semblance of, shall we say, being a whole person, and actually be even stronger than your bones. If anyone tried to break these bones, they would likely break their torture instruments on them instead.”

Will grinned down the queasiness he felt when he looked at the thing. “Well, Jack. Now you can include yourself as part of the Treasure of the Black Pearl.”

Jack scowled at the boy. “Funny, Whelp.” Then he grinned. “When can we start?”

“As soon as we make port. I need some more materials that I cannot do without for this. I’m assuming that you do not wish to feel it when I open your leg up?”

Jack pondered it. “No, I guess I don’t. I’d love to watch though.” Will felt ill, but he didn’t show it. “And while we’re in port, maybe you pick me up something whereas I could see better till this problem goes away.”

“Yes, I’ll pick up some spectacles for you.”

Will grinned. “I guess you’ll have earned calling me ‘Whelp’ as you’ll look your age, old man.”

Jack tried to move and just glared at him. “Doctor, could ye remove these splints from me arms and legs? I’d like to throttle myself a smart-mouthed whelp, and it’s hard to move in this rig.”

Will giggled, and the doctor chuckled. “I’ll remove them if you tell me how each one feels after I do so. And that you will NOT try to get up. Remember, you have broken ribs and your back is not healed.”

“Truth to tell, doctor, I doubt I could stand right now anyway. I need to eat something before my gut tries to swallow me whole.”

Will nodded and left to find something to feed Jack from the galley.

Dr. Abernathy unbound Jack’s right arm, and Jack moved it. “Not bad. A constant ache, but not a bad one. Well done, doctor. Now remove the others.”

Once all of the splints were gone save the ones around his foot, Jack tried to sit up. The pain that shot through his back had him lie down again, but he didn’t scream. “I believe I’ll rest a bit, and wait for me food.” He grinned. “Doctor, could ye be a good man and fetch the bottle on top of the desk over there? I be dyin’ o’ thirst here.” Jack’s arms wove fluidly as he spoke, with only an occasional hitch in the movement, and the doctor was fascinated. He was actually surprised that the man could speak at all without his arms to help him.

The doctor walked to the desk and pulled down the bottle, uncorking it and sniffing the contents. “No, Captain. No liquor until we know that all of the drugs are free from your system. You are, shall we say, ‘dry’ for at least a week. If your vision has returned to normal by that time, you may have some rum. Otherwise, you shall remain DRY until I say otherwise. Do I make myself clear?”

“Doctor, on my ship, *I* give the orders. And I want that bottle NOW!”

The doctor smiled. “Tut tut, my good Captain. Such behavior from a grown man.” He opened the window and poured out the golden liquid while Jack moaned over its loss. “Now rest till your food arrives.”

Jack tried to rest. He found that he just couldn’t. He tried to remember how he managed to get injured. The doctor had mentioned “they” and a “cardinal.” As he didn’t think a bird would be able to inflict this much damage, he assumed he meant a religious leader. /But they stopped such practices before I was born!/ “Doctor? Could you answer a few questions?”

“If I’m able. What do you wish to know?”

“Who did this to me and why would be the first thing I’m wantin’ t’know.”

“Cardinal Augustus Fernando of the Holy Catholic Church believed you to be a witch, so he had you arrested and tortured until you confessed.”

“I don’t remember…did I?”

“Confess? No. You were there for a little over six weeks and never confessed. Why? ARE you a witch?”

“No. I steer clear of magic and witchcraft whenever possible. Scares me crew. Now, what exactly did they do to me? I don’t seem to remember any of it.”

“You must be in shock then. Funny, your eyes don’t show it. However, I’ve heard of cases such as yours, and often as not the memories never return, which can be better for the victim anyway.”

“Doctor, I’d rather ye not use that word in reference to me. I am in no way, a ‘victim.’ I’m Captain Jack Sparrow.”

The doctor smirked. “Yes, of course. Well, the Cardinal had you beaten for the most part. As they used a hooked cat-o-nine-tails, your back was ripped to shreds each time they did it. He had me stitch you up after each beating, which I did, believing you to be guilty, as he’d never made a mistake before. When they finally decided that you weren’t going to confess that way, they drugged you and dislocated your bones by tying weights to your feet and dropping you. I can only assume the drugs and pendulum, since I was away at the time, but your injuries tell me I’m right. Your foot was crushed after you tried to escape to keep you from doing it again. Does this answer your question as completely as you wish?”

“More than, actually. However, it does explain everything. Well, all but one thing. When a man’s had gold teeth as long as I have, he knows what every part of them feels like. These feel different. Why?”

“Your friend made those for you. I’m afraid one of the men torturing you stole yours. At least, you left my care with them, and returned later without. I don’t know why he took them, other than they were gold.”

“I see.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “Thank you, doctor. For everything you’ve done, and for what you’ll be doin’ when we get the rest of the equipment you need to fix me foot.”

“There are no guarantees that it will be fixed, Captain Sparrow.”

“Ah, but I have faith in you, doctor. Faith that I could never have in a mere Cardinal.” He smiled as sleep finally took him.

* - * - *

TBC

A/N: It would be great to get paid for this, it's a true labor of love...and it gives a writer enough warm fuzzies to go on when someone tells them their work is worthy of comment. When someone appreciates (or hates) their work enough to comment, it feeds the plot bunnies. If you don’t say what you like or don’t like, *whine*, my writing will never *sob* get any better...ever. And the plot *whimper* bunnies will *gasp* die. I am grateful that you read this, and don’t worry about me or the bunnies, I...I know I’m not worthy. I'll just sit here...by the empty review page....alone, in the dark, knee deep in dead bunnies...waiting...*sigh* Farewell, dear reader, I*cough* wrote this for you. You deserve it. You are worth it. (and not for that meanie who never, ever leaves reviews - who wouldn’t clap hands, either--AND TINKERBELL DIED!)...Now please feed the plot bunnies by hitting the "REVIEW" button!!!