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*~ Disclaimer ~* I do not own any of the characters, language, plots, or locations from Pirates of the Caribbean. Disney holds all rights to Pirates of the Caribbean and this story is only created for pleasure, not profit.

Author’s Note: Well! Finally got around to updating; sorry about the long wait, but I've had the worst dry-spell for writing. Almost done with the next chapter, and maybe just one more after that. (pre-Pirates II)


Give and Take

A hair was tickling his nose.

Will reached up sleepily to brush it away, but it fell right back onto his face. With a puff of annoyance, he reached up again, only to notice the second time around that it didn’t feel like his hair. This was thicker than his own and a little coarser. Blinking, Will tried to focus on where he was. What he noticed was tanned skin, soft-looking but taut: someone’s neck. Then he saw the chin, rough and firm with a braided goatee… Jack!

A quick jerk came before Will could fight back his reflex. It seemed as though his companion was still sleeping and he wasn’t really ready for the other to wake up while he was still right there. He flushed. The first night of this arrangement had been fine; he had been far too tired and sore to move around much in his sleep and Jack had woken him when it was time for them to head out on deck. Today, though, it seemed that he had shifted a little.

He hadn’t rolled on top of Jack, Will was grateful to note, and he hadn’t pushed him off the bed. He suspected Jack wouldn’t appreciate waking to a tumble on the floor. However, Will had turned toward the pirate captain in his sleep, his arm had somehow sneaked around Jack’s arm and he had curled right up next to it. His head was tucked into the curve of Jack’s shoulder, while the other man had simply slept on his back. Will supposed that his movements had been fairly recent, or Jack would have shaken him off in his sleep by now.

Will let out a soft sigh. Jack was sleeping peacefully and he was wound around his arm. How to disengage himself without waking the captain? Well, if he was careful… he slowly started to edge his arm out from between Jack’s arm and his side. Jack grumbled a bit, and Will paused. When nothing further happened, Will edged even slower and Jack’s arm moved out a bit to accommodate him. With relief, Will pulled free, but he didn’t expect it when Jack’s opposite hand reached over and grabbed his to stop the retreat. The startled blacksmith tried to lean back, but Jack pulled Will’s hand up to his lips and planted a rough kiss on his palm.

Stunned, Will watched blankly as Jack shifted toward him in sleep and dragged his hand across firm lips to nibble at his fingertips. Gasping a little at that, Will was certain he was burning up, his face was so flushed. When Jack licked his index finger, he finally gave his hand a hard tug, though he was still strangely speechless.

Although Jack didn’t let go, he did begin to wake up. Blinking at the hand he held for a moment, he shifted his gaze toward the blushing blacksmith, who was fidgeting uncomfortably. After a pause, Jack graciously gave back Will’s hand.

“Well tha’s new,” he commented lightly.

“Huh!” Will let out a nervous laugh. “I… umm…”

Jack chuckled, “Nothin’ ta worry about, lad. It was just a taste, an’ I didn’t eat’cha now did I?” Will was stamped a permanent red as Jack stretched and stood up. After a wide yawn, Jack gestured to the door. “Up and at ’em, Mister Turner. We’ve got a ship to sail.” And, whistling, he swept out the door without a care in the world.

Will sat dumbfounded for another moment or so, and then scrambled out of bed and into his clothes. He stepped out to find an impatient Jack waiting to give him the orders for the day. Shaking his head, Will listened to the brisk instructions and told himself to put the whole incident out of his mind. It was nothing; Jack said so and so it was.

He had trouble concentrating that morning.

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Jack hovered over Cotton at the wheel, looking out over the crew and giving a wild smirk on occasions when he glimpsed the young Turner. The lad was avoiding looking at him, but he could see by the occasional stumble or glance that Will’s mind was still on this morning. And what a pleasant circumstance that had turned out to be.

He had felt it the moment Will had wormed his way against his side. Even half-asleep, no one could accuse Jack Sparrow of being caught unawares. He recalled exactly who was in his bed with him and was amused to think of what the lad would do once he woke up. Still drifting in the morning calm, Jack noticed when Will jerked and knew the blacksmith must have woken up. The lad hadn’t immediately pulled away, however, and Jack was holding back laughter as he had tried to inch apart. Acting on a spur-of-the-moment whim, he decided to tease the young man a little more and took up Will’s hand to play with. The response was certainly priceless.

The mischievous grin appeared once more. Jack was very fond of his spur-of-the-moment whims.

However, he only had another week before Will would start putting an escape attempt into motion. Jack had no illusions about Will’s contentment on the Black Pearl. It was quite a life, being a pirate, but the only thing that kept a man at sea was the realization that this is where he finds his freedom. The sense of freedom was more powerful than the refreshing salty spray or the spoils. What Jack really needed was for Will to understand that his life at Port Royal would chain him down for the remainder of his days. The captain knew it would, knew it since Will had agreed to venture with him before… but Jack didn’t want to waste time for Will to learn it himself.

“Captain! Off to starboard!”

Jack turned to where his crewman in the crow’s nest was pointing, along with everyone else on deck. Right over there… a British vessel heading West. Coming from England, probably, full of gold and valuables to barter among the islands. Captain Sparrow’s luck had struck again.

“All hands on deck! Get moving you mangy gits! Gibbs!” Jack shouted.

Gibbs and Will ran up the stairs to join Jack at the helm. “Aye, Captain,” Gibbs answered.

“We have our target,” Jack gestured Cotton away and took over the wheel, turning starboard toward the British ship. “We’ll chase them to the north shoals and take them before they’re in sight of Port Carrynne.”

“Aye, Captain. Men! To arms!”

There was a resounding shout among the crew with only one noticeable voice withheld. Jack shot a glance at the troubled blacksmith. He could practically see Will’s thoughts arguing between his conscience and his current position on the ship, his duties to the Black Pearl while he wasn’t a true captive. Seeing this, Jack decided to relieve Will of his misery.

“William,” Jack said, just loud enough to grab his attention. “You will stay on the Pearl and prepare to take on captives. I won’ ask more than that, savvy?”

Will blinked at the pirate captain before slowly nodding. Jack gave him a wary look before returning the nod. The lad wasn’t very happy with the situation, still, but Jack was relying on his sense of honor to keep him in line. It was Will’s honor that had led him to protect Jack from the gallows and it would allow Jack to continue with the life that Will had spared him for.

They were coming fast on the ship. The British had turned around to try to run from the Pearl, but Jack wasn’t having any of that. This was the fastest ship in the Caribbean and they would know it before long. As Jack had said, the British were forced to turn around the shoals and the Pearl easily caught up to them. They were now running up along the ship’s port side and Jack could read the name, the Jasmine. The men were out on deck, shouting at those on the Pearl; it didn’t seem like they were welcome.

Well, Jack never did like waiting for an invitation.

“Ready the guns!” Jack shoved Cotton on the wheel once more and readied himself by the stairs. He heard Gibbs shouting to those below deck and the sound of clanking chains. As soon as they came up beside the Jasmine, Jack gave the order and the sweet ring of cannon fire sang out. The British were quick to fire back, but a lucky shot had already taken out a few men on the top deck and holes were being blasted below. Though the British were well-armed, the Black Pearl held the greater advantage.

Finally, it was time. Jack gave a yell and his crew took up ropes and swung over to the Jasmine, engaging the men in battle. His crewmen weren’t working to kill the British, they were under orders to keep them as captives when possible, but his men weren’t all as skilled as himself so he could see there had already been some casualties. Once the majority of the men had been subdued, Jack’s eye caught sight of the opposing captain dueling with a couple of the younger crewmembers. He picked up a rope and swung over to sort out the surrender.

Jack landed in a clear spot and quickly took advantage of the space to take up his sword and rush over to where the captain of the Jasmine was fighting with Zeke and Hunter. The boy, Zeke, was holding his own but his shoulder was injured and Hunter had to cover his left side. Jack felt that it was time for him to sweep in and take over in a good, old-fashioned captain’s battle. It was only suitable, after all, and Jack did admire the nerve of the captain to keep on fighting after it was clear that the Jasmine would fall before long.

His sword swung out to intercept that of the other captain’s and there was a satisfying clang as the captain redirected his attention to Jack. A few parries and Jack had the captain running up against the rails, Hunter and Zeke having dropped behind to cover Jack’s back. Only moments later had a grinning pirate captain tapping the neck of his opponent in a victorious gesture. The other captain’s eyes were dark with the clash of rage and defeat.

“Who are you?” the captain snarled.

“Why, I am so glad yeh asked!” Jack gave a short bow. “You are now under the command of Captain Jack Sparrow.”

“Sparrow!” The name was spat with such distaste that Jack nearly laughed in delight. He loved having that effect on people. The other captain sputtered for a moment while Jack corrected him.

“Tha’s Captain Sparrow, mate. Please get it right. And you are?”

“Captain Tracey,” was the short reply. “And by Heaven above, Sparrow, you will pay for this.”

“Well, Captain Tracey,” Jack said politely, “I rather doubt that. Now if yeh’ll please accompany my men, they shall show yeh to the brig.” Jack took a step back and lowered his sword, gesturing toward Hunter, who was waiting to escort the captive to the Pearl. Having delivered the crotchety captain to the capable hands of Hunter and Zeke, Jack turned away with eager eyes to have a look at the hold.

There was a roar from behind him and Jack turned to find Captain Tracey barreling down on him. With no time to worry about form, Jack only had time to duck and let the captain roll right over him. Tracey made an awkward tumble, but somehow managed to reach up and stab Jack in the side with a small pocketknife.

A swarm of the Pearl’s crew came around and dragged Tracey away, removing his weapon. But the damage was done. Blood was dripping down Jack’s hip and he stumbled less-than-gracefully backward before forcing himself to stand up in front of his crew. With a fierce scowl, Jack snapped at the gawking crew.

“What are yeh brigands standin’ around for? Go do what yeh do, NOW!”

Once everyone was well distracted and running about to collect their ‘earnings,’ Jack shuffled his way over to the side of the ship. Gibbs was waiting for him with a rope to go back over to the Pearl. He managed to send Gibbs the briefest of smiles in genuine thanks before hurrying across to his ship. The wound wasn’t deep enough to cut anything vital, but was bleeding profusely. Jack cursed as he stumbled onto the Black Pearl. Feeling disoriented (an especially strange feeling, given the lack of rum), he took a moment to gather himself before the rest of his crew crowded him from this side of the battle.

A discrete but insistent bundle of cloth was pressed to his side, and Jack looked up into the worried eyes of Will Turner. The blacksmith’s face didn’t betray Jack’s condition to the crew around them, but Will’s glances as he moved away to help with the captives clearly showed his concern. Tucking the cloth close to his side, Jack took his station up near the mast, directing his crew in bringing over the plunder and taking it all down to store with the cargo. Once Anna-Maria gave Jack the all clear for everything of value, he ordered the burning of the Jasmine. It was a pity to see such a fine vessel go up in flames, but Jack was aware that if the Navy came across the ship and found it looted, it wouldn’t take long for them to figure out who was recently in the area. With a fire and a large supply of ammunition in the hold, anyone coming upon the Jasmine could assume it was an accident.

As the thick smoke was placed far behind them, Jack watched his crew celebrate from his secure position at the wheel. A lazy smirk was pasted on his face but an unobtrusive hand pawed the wound beneath his shirt. He didn’t feel as though he were dying and he thanked his lucky stars for that, but for a small pocketknife there was rather a lot of blood. Jack would have to make an exit soon to assess the damage.

A belated cheer went over the deck as the crewmen securing the prisoners came back from the brig. Jack made a distracted gesture of approval and waved Anna-Maria over to him. Giving her leave to sail and issuing orders to Gibbs to give the crew a round of good rum and fresh rations, Jack casually strolled down into the captain’s quarters.

He was surprised to find his not-so-captive blacksmith waiting for him with bandaging supplies and a bottle of rum. Though his side was beginning to ache, Jack managed to swagger up to Will with a predatory leer.

“Here to treat your captain’s wounds, lad? ’Cause I have a few aches that could use some attention…”

“Quit messing around, Jack,” Will said brusquely, getting up to steer Jack into a seat next to the supplies. Jack raised his brows a bit; the lad seemed a bit short at the moment, so for once he took the boy’s direction and allowed the lad to tend to him. But not without a few words.

“Well, if yer going ta be all business-like about it… what’sa matter with me, Doctor Turner?” When there was no response other than a scowl and a swab at his cut (not as deep as he had thought), Jack tried again.
“Y’know, while yer at it, if yeh could check the rest o’ me I’d be mighty grateful…”

With a slam and a sharp curse, Will chucked the supplies on the table and paced away. Jack watched him silently fume for a bit, but when it appeared the blacksmith wasn’t about to explain, he spoke.

“What’sa matter?”

Will spun to face Jack with a choked laugh. “What’s the matter? Jack!” his eyes were bright with concern and anger. “If Tracey had been a second sooner, you would have been bleeding out on the Jasmine now!”

“But he wasn’t,” Jack returned, blandly. “Why worry ’bout it now? It’s over.”

“Don’t you even… How can you just…” Unable to properly vent his anger, Will turned back to pacing.

Jack sneered, “Just what, William? Be what I am? Do what I do? No time for a Captain tah be maudlin’. Yeh fight, yeh live, an’ yeh go do it all again. There’s plenty a’ mark that can attest tah that, lad.”

Lips pressed tightly together, Will walked back and turned his attention to attending the wound once more. Through gritted teeth, he muttered, “You shouldn’t have to risk yourself like that.”

With a snort, Jack replied, “An’ leave all the fun to me mates? Don’t think so, Turner. As Captain, gotta keep sharp.”

Will finished up his cleaning and pushed up Jack’s shirt to wrap a bandage around his waist. Finishing that, Jack was surprised to see Will looking at another faded knife wound further up his chest. As he watched, Will ran rough fingertips as gently as he could over the pale scar before turning away with a look of either disgust or anguish, it was hard to be sure. The blacksmith was silently putting away the supplies when Jack stilled his hand.

“Will,” he started, “these marks make up what I am. Every man carries scars, whether yeh can see ’em or not. Mine just happen tah be visible, but I don’ regret a single decision that led tah any o’ these marks. I got these marks by choice, an’ I’m glad tah be the one makin’ that choice, savvy?” The lad was staring at the floor as though it were the one talking to him, but then Jack made a step further into Will’s personal space and he looked up. Soft brown eyes bore into darker ones, searching for something. Jack had no idea what the lad found, but it forced him into looking away again and the words slipped out. “Do you regret your choices, Will?”

The temporary crewman didn’t respond to him, but finished gathering the supplies and tucked them on a side table near the door. Will moved to leave, but called over his shoulder, “I’ll change your bandages in a few hours.”

Sitting back down, Jack wondered whether his plans were moving forward or backward.

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