Eternity and the Sparrow

Well, I’ve been extremely busy, which is why this took so long...

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For several weeks, the Dutchman chased the Black Pearl. Using Jack’s compass (which was not wholly useful since it was pointing at Will nine times out of ten); they managed to follow her through minimally charted waters in the south.

In the time at sea, Will noticed Elizabeth’s condition. The young woman only ever got sick in the early hours of the day, sometimes later depending on whether something was raising her stress level. He watched quietly to see what could be causing it, but had no answer for his wife’s ailment.

Not knowing what else to do, William brought it up with his lover, who was more than willing to share his opinion. The idea Jack presented put Will into shock for several minutes. A child? Will knew nothing about kids, or raising them, so how was he going to handle having one in the midst of the everyday madness of the open ocean?

It was Jack who came up with a solution. As it was previously decided, it wouldn’t be wise to let the tart remain on his ship anyway, so the sooner they could leave her on dry land, the better. Elizabeth being pregnant was only a stronger reason to get her somewhere safe. So, they decided that Will would take her back to Port Royal as soon as they’d retrieved the Pearl.

Will was afraid that it wouldn’t be fair to let her raise the baby alone, but took one look at his life that always required a sword in one hand and a gun in the other and knew no child would be safe. He couldn’t go on land and she couldn’t stay on the ship, so the sacrifice had to be made. It was the plan originally, right?

They were nearing the seventeenth day of the hunt when the Black Pearl was spotted on the horizon.

“Pull alongside her and prepare to board,” William hollered at his crew. “They may not be pleased to see us but they’ll be damn fools if they fire upon us. But, if they do, I want you to take her by force!”

As they pulled close to the Pearl, they drew out of her wake and ran parallel to her port side. Familiar pirates onboard gave them a variety of reactions, some terrified to see the Dutchman and others giving a pleasant welcoming wave. Barbossa was one of the few to give the Dutchman a solid glare.

Jack hopped onto the ships railing, using a nearby Jacob’s ladder to steady himself, and swept off his hat to give Barbossa a sarcastic bow. He yelled across the distance between them, “I thank ye for lookin’ after me ship, but I’ll be takin’ her back now.”

“Not a chance, Jack! The Pearl is mine,” his old first mate, and long time rival, snapped back.

Will joined him at the rail. “Barbossa, we’re coming aboard. If you cause us any trouble, my ship will put yours at the bottom of the ocean and no one will have her!”

The threat silenced the pirate at the Pearl’s helm, but only riled up the one standing next to Will. Jack didn’t remove his gaze from the beautiful sight of his ship when he spoke to the boy, “I don’t want any holes in me ship.”

The whelp lowered his voice and assured him, “There won’t be, but it would be better if we made him think that we weren’t afraid to blow him out of the water. Think of it this way, you could get another ship.”

“I don’t want another ship, I want the Pearl lad.”

Will sighed. Jack was completely missing the point. “I know that, but we want HIM to think that you’re willing to get another if he doesn’t give up the Pearl.”

Jack let out a drawn out ‘oh’ and nodded, adding, “But I still don’t want you blowin’ holes in me ship.”

“I won’t.”

One of William’s men announced that the lines were ready if they wished to board and it was only minutes before they were on the main deck of the Black Pearl. Jack and Will crossed to the stairs of the quarter deck, pirates scattering out of their way as they passed.

There were several new faces among the crew they’d both sailed with, probably men Barbossa had enlisted in Tortuga. They seemed the most nervous in the Dutchman’s presence and were glancing back to their Captain for orders. Any one of them would attempt to sink their sword in the trespassers if given the order, but they had no idea how far back this squabble went.

Captain Barbossa greeted the pair with a good deal of caution, his hand resting very close to his pistol. He glanced from one to the other, his eyes lingering on the ragged scar peeking through William’s open shirt. It was true then that the boy had replaced Jones and the Flying Dutchman was under his control. He’d doubted it, but the proof was substantial enough.

Jack smiled coldly at the man he once trusted, “I’ll be takin’ me ship now and you’ll be headed to the brig.”

“How long do ye think it’ll last, Jack? No matter how many times ye take over, I always end up at her helm in the end,” Barbossa reminded him.

His fingers curled just a hair’s breadth from his gun, awfully tempted to just be rid of Jack once and for all. But, the damn whelp was a problem. As much as he’d seen the two fight, William actually seemed to be firmly on Jack’s side this time. Since the boy was now Captain of an unsinkable ship and an immortal crew, it would be unwise to cross him.

There would be time yet.

Jack drew his sword and pressed the tip to Barbossa’s neck, ordering, “To the brig.” The pirate did as he was told, but didn’t raise his hands in any form of surrender. Will stopped him, briefly, to relieve him of his gun and sword. The younger man stayed above deck to keep things under control.

As Jack pushed the mutinied Captain ahead of him, he asked, “‘M curious, mate, why didn’t ye come after me when ye realized I had the map?”

“There’s more treasure to be found than what that map has to offer,” Barbossa responded, leaving out more than a share of explanation.

When Jack had him locked in the Pearl’s prison and was heading back up the stairs, the crafty pirate admitted the rest in a low voice, “Because I knew ye’d bring it back to me.” It wasn’t nearly loud enough to reach Sparrow’s ears and Barbossa confidently got settled in to wait. He was a patient man.

Jack came out of the lower decks to find that William had gotten into a bit of a scuffle with big fellow he’d never seen before. It could hardly be called a fight, since the boy already had his opponent face down on the deck, with the heel of his boot pressed harshly into the pirate’s back. Will’s sword was resting very close to the man’s eye, so he seemed perfectly content to stay underfoot until the whelp was done yelling at the rest of the Pearl’s crew.

He was in the midst of it when Jack surfaced, “-and anyone who doesn’t want to sail under Captain Sparrow will be seein’ what true horrors wait in the Locker! Now get back to work you worthless dogs!”

Jack felt a small swell of pride. When he’d first met the boy, he’d been an exceptional sword fighter, but little else. Back then, he’d barely been able to glare at a man who’d offended him, but now he was giving orders and calling pirates nasty things when they deserved it. He’d come a long way from the gentlemanly blacksmith who’d blanched at the idea of ‘borrowing’ a ship from the navy.

By pirate’s standards, he was becoming quite a man.

“What this one do to ye?” Jack waved a hand at the cowering bear under Will’s foot.

William glanced down at him and repositioned the hardened steel in his hand over the man’s jugular. “Tried to run me through,” he told Jack simply.

Captain Sparrow crouched to the pirate’s level and smiled, feeling just a touch devious, “I suggest ye apologize to me whelp before I let him gut ye like a fish. I hear that’s a terrible way to go, yer insides hangin’ out everywhere while ye try and swim from the sharks.”

The surprisingly cowardly man sputtered several weak requests for forgiveness and Will shook his head. Very few men had the balls to spit in your face once they were pinned, it was almost shameful.

“Very well, but you’d best clean every bit of me ship on your hands and knees to make up for it,” Jack said sharply.

The pirate nodded and scuttled away as soon as William lifted his foot. “What are you going to do with Barbossa?” the lad inquired as he sheathed his sword.

Jack had given it plenty of thought. He wanted the traitor to have exactly what he’d given Jack the first time he’d stabbed him in the back, “I figured I’d find some island and dump him with a gun and one bullet.”

“This idea is sounding familiar.”

“Yes, well, he did come up with it first.”

Will crossed slowly to the weighted line he’d swung in on, fooling absently with the tightly corded rope while he organized his thoughts. Some instinct told him not to go, not to leave Jack alone, but he assumed that it was just his ever-present desire to keep close. He turned back, “How am I going to find you after I leave Port Royal?”

Jack looked at him thoughtfully for a moment and pulled his treasured black compass from his belt. He placed it in William’s hands, curling the boy’s grasp around it, “Ye must just assume that I am what yer heart wants most and ye’ll find me.”

Will flicked it open with a little smile. It spun briefly before settling with the arrow aimed indisputably towards Jack. “I guess I will,” he said softly, fiddling with the device more than he really needed to. That disturbing whispering in the back of his head made him hesitant to leave. “Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be whelp?”

Will shook his head, unable to voice what troubled him. Jack stole a quick glance over his shoulder to see if anyone was paying attention and claimed his lover’s mouth in a brief, but heated farewell kiss.

“It won’t be long before I see ye again.”

Something was missing; perhaps that was why Will was nervous. It was something about Jack. The man had everything on his person that was important: his hat, gun, sword, and Sao Feng’s map. He’d given the compass to Will and was standing on his beloved ship, so what could possibly be absent? It hit the boy much the way a solid punch would, “Where’s the chest?”

“Well,” Jack started. It had been a difficult decision, but he’d left the chest aboard the Dutchman. Knowing he had to board the Pearl for the third, or possibly forth, time to reclaim his ship from his backstabbing crew, he’d realized that his lover’s heart could easily fall into someone else’s hands.

Jack gave Will a hearty pat on the shoulder and smirked, “You remember where I hid it. Give it to the lass when ye drop her in port.”

The world must have stopped spinning, because Captain Jack Sparrow was willing to give up something he’d claimed. Will could hardly process the fact. “You’re a good man, Jack.”

“I know, but don’t go telling people, I’ve got a reputation to keep up mate,” the pirate joked with a gold-laced grin. “Now, get going.”

Will swung back to the Dutchman and got her turned about, looking back at the Black Pearl until she disappeared from sight. Jack was right; it wouldn’t be long they’d see each other again. Will just wished that nagging feeling would go away.

Jack watched the whelp’s ship only briefly before barking orders at his stagnant crew. They scattered like leaves in the wind and got back to work, several shooting him dirty looks. He returned to the helm and ran his hands lovingly over the polished wood. The Pearl was his freedom, one of his finest loves and he was glad to be at her wheel again. The ocean opened before him like one great opportunity, an endless source of treasures and adventures.

He hadn’t been at the wheel ten minutes when the foreboding, and yet not entirely unexpected, crack of a cocking pistol sounded behind his head. Jack heaved a deep sigh and turned to look down first the barrel of a gun, then down the arm holding it, and finally at the smiling face of Barbossa.

“Who let ye out?”

“What’s it matter Jack?”

“I was hoping to shoot him…”

The mutinous bastard motioned with the pistol and Jack followed the movement to a dinghy the crew was getting prepared.

“Again?” he asked despairingly.

“Again,” Barbossa replied smugly..

“Do I at least get a bottle of rum?”

This brought a hearty laugh from everyone present. Jack cracked a tiny grin and started to shimmy off to one side, but a firm hand on the shoulder of his coat stopped the weak escape attempt. Barbossa cut his cackling short and said, “Aye, I suppose we can get ye some. Fetch Jack a bottle from the lower decks!”

A man disappeared below, returning shortly with a bottle. He tossed it into Jack’s dinghy and two sailors seized Jack’s arms to throw him in after it.

“Wait!”

The pirates paused at their Captain’s order. Since it was unlikely that Barbossa had a change of heart, Jack glared at him as he approached.

“I don’t think ye’ll be needin’ these anymore,” the Captain said and slid the coveted Asian maps from under Jack’s belt. Jack barely had the opportunity to argue with him before they tossed him into the empty dinghy. Once he’d regained his footing, he turned back to his treacherous crew.

“Don’t I get any food?”

“Nah, Jack, ye’ll die faster without food and we really don’t want ye coming back again,” Barbossa answered as they loosed the ropes tethering the tiny boat to the Pearl.

“Then why not just shoot me?”

Barbossa ginned, showing a mouth full of gnarled, yellowing teeth, and raised his pistol. “I suppose I really hadn’t thought of that.”

Jack barreled on, trying to right the foolish comment, “I’ll tell ye why, because ye wanted me to die a slow and terribly painful death on the open sea for gettin’ in yer way all those years.”

Barbossa lowered the gun and nodded at the waiting pirates. They dropped Jack’s dinghy into the water. He unfurled the bamboo map as Jack disappeared from both sight and mind, twisting the second section until it revealed their prize, Aqua de Viva. It wouldn’t be long before immortality came within their grasp.

More than defeated, Jack collapsed onto the floor of the small boat. At least he had rum. He stretched out a ring-cluttered hand to grasp for the neck of the bottle. He flicked the cork off with his thumb and dumped the contents into his mouth… which turned out to be nothing but air. Jack sat up and peered into the empty bottle. Life truly wasn’t fair.

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With a strong tropical wind at her back, it took the Dutchman four days to enter the waters of Port Royal. During that time, the Captain and his wife spoke very sparingly. She remained below deck for much of the voyage while he stuck firmly to the helm and the rigging. A distinct rift formed between them, one that could be tasted on the air around them.

The Dutchman avoided the busy port until nightfall. A pirate vessel, especially one as infamous as the Dutchman, was sure to cause a stir in peaceful waters. Will preferred to avoid a confrontation with the British navy since he had no intention of stealing something while he was in port.

They advanced on the quiet city a little past midnight, using the moon as their only light. Elizabeth appeared from the lower decks for the first time all day to rest her eyes on her childhood home. Will joined her at the rail and they stared at the port in an uncomfortable silence. This would be Elizabeth Turner’s final port of call. There would be no more adventures once she set foot on land, her main concern turning instead to the child growing in her womb. The young woman would find plenty of trouble for herself, since it was her way, but her days of swashbuckling and sailing had come to a close.

Will cleared his throat, struggling to find the proper words to say. When nothing appropriate came to mind, he settled on fact, “One of my men will take you ashore. You should be able to take over your family fortune since you were your father’s only heir.”

Elizabeth turned tragic eyes to him, “When did I lose you?”

The question caught him off guard and her expression cut deep. Will stumbled over his words, unable to get them straight.

“When did I lose you to him?” she pressed again.

“I… don’t know… I’m so sorry.”

Elizabeth nodded curtly and returned her gaze to Port Royal.

It was not part of her nature to admit when she’d been beaten, but Jack had honestly won this one. Will no longer looked at her the way he once did. The boy had been completely smitten with her once, but as he’d become a man, something had changed. That pirate had gotten under his skin.

She would have tried to blame in on curious lust, but she’d seen them together on more than one occasion on the Pearl. Even when they weren’t screwing one another, there was just something about the way they acted together, stood together, talked together… Jack needed Will just as much as Will needed Jack and Elizabeth had just fallen out of the picture somewhere along the way.

Elizabeth was determined to accept her defeat with dignity and grace, bowing out of the show without any tantrums. She was done causing grief, now it was time to let it go. At least she had a small piece of William to remind her of her time with him. She ran her hand lovingly over her still flat stomach.

It was time to go home.

Will had known this was coming, but he still felt a swell of grief for Elizabeth’s departure. She’d been his only family until he was reunited with his father, and losing her was going to be a lot harder than he’d anticipated. Unable to stop himself, Will reached out and pulled Elizabeth into a hug.

She was resistant to the contact at first. This man had come into her life under the most bizarre circumstances, stolen her heart, married her, and then abandoned her (with child) for another man. But he was persistent in his attempt to bid her farewell, and she soon melted in his arms. She did not weep.

Despite her inability to hate William Turner, she would shed no tears for him.

Will released her and motioned to one of his stagnant crew members, “I want you to have something.”

Maccus crossed the deck with a very familiar object in his hands. Elizabeth had to look twice to be certain she’d seen it properly, but it was indeed Will’s treasure chest.

“I… I thought Jack took it.”

“Well, he did… but he gave it back.”

“Are we talking literally, or metaphorically?”

Will sighed at her pointed sarcasm. It stirred up his guilt, but not nearly as much as it once might’ve. “Part of it truly always belonged to you and always will… I want you to keep it safe,” Will said softly and offered her the carved box.

She stared at skeptically, “Don’t you want to give it back to your lover?”

“Jack would lose it within days, you know that. I’d really rather trust you with it.”

Elizabeth postponed a moment longer, making him sweat, but took his offering. She pursed her lips and snapped, “If you don’t come visit me, I’ll hunt you down.”

The half threat, half joke broke the hair-trigger tension and a smile slipped onto Will’s features. “I’m sure you will,” he responded.

Elizabeth’s solid resolve not to cry didn’t make it past her ride into port. By the time she stepped of the rowboat onto the docks, sobs were racking her thin frame. She clutched the precious box to her chest, barely able to feel the beat of the heart held within. Halfway down the dock, she collapsed onto her knees.

Not once did she turn to look at the Flying Dutchman as it sailed away, taking with it any hope of adventure, a small bit of her pride, and her dearest husband and first love.

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The events at Port Royal left the captain of the Dutchman in a foul mood. He stalked about the decks with a scowl on his face, lost in the depths of his mind. It had come to William’s attention that this would be the first time he’d been on the sea without Elizabeth. Since he’d first set foot on a boat as a grown man, it had been either for, or with the governor’s daughter. Not a single exception came to mind.

Leaving Elizabeth in port marked the beginning of a new stage in his life and Will wasn’t sure what to think of it. But, it really didn’t help that the man who’d taken her ashore immediately mentioned the lass’s breakdown upon arriving back at the ship. He could have done without that tidbit of information.

What was done was done and there was no going back. He’d made the best choice for the circumstances at hand.

Will fished the black compass off his belt and flipped it open. The needle swung madly for a moment, before it settled facing south-east. It helped him get his head on straight. Elizabeth was north, so if there were any remaining doubts about who he wanted, they’d been answered.

Captain Turner shouted the heading and snapped the compass closed. Unfortunately, it put them into the wind. Even though they expertly tacked the sails to make the best of the breeze, it was terribly slow going. Will prayed silently that the wind would turn, because the twisting knot in his stomach from when they’d left Jack was making an astounding comeback. There was something wrong.

Perhaps luck was on his side, or perhaps the goddess Calypso heard his plea, but the ocean air made a change in their favor. It was still several days before they spotted a ship on the horizon.

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Jack strode about on the deck of his gorgeous new ship. He’d decided to call her the Blue Pearl, in honor of his first craft. She was a mighty beauty, with tall masts and enough cannons to make any pirate proud. Her crew was a complete waste, however. In Jack’s firm opinion, they didn’t move fast enough or get enough done, but, strangely, they all seemed to have striking similarities to their Captain.

They scuttled around like crabs, some in the rigging, some washing the deck, and other doing a whole lot of nothing. It might have been the heat, but Jack was certain that he’d been in this strangeness before. He peered over the edge of his ship and saw water, so was not in the Locker again.

Jack had been looking for something, but what was it? He checked his belt for his compass and found that it was gone, just like the last twenty times he’d looked for it. If he didn’t have his compass, how was he supposed to remember what kind of treasure he’d been after?

His entire ship wavered like heat coming off desert sand, then vanished, leaving him on a tiny boat under the scorching Caribbean sun.

“Damn,” he croaked softly.

He was going to need a ship that was more reliable if he planned on doing any kind of pillaging… He couldn’t be in the middle of a raid on some port and have both his crew and his ship disappearing like smoke in the wind. Jack would become the laughing stock of the whole Caribbean.

Wasn’t he standing just a moment ago? When had he taken up a completely prone position on the base of this tiny dinghy? If he ever saw a dinghy ever again, it would be too soon.

He reached up slowly to pull his hat further down over his eyes, but his hand shook slightly. It really had been acting up the past few days.

Exactly how many days had it been since Barbossa kicked him off the Pearl? Jack couldn’t recall. On the second day, he’d found a small stash of food under the supporting planks of the dinghy, hopefully put there by someone on the Pearl who actually liked him. There had even been a bottle of rum (not the empty one) that had been thoughtfully provided, but he’d burned through all of that some time ago. Hunger had really ceased to be an issue because his stomach had given up on him about the third day it hadn’t received sustenance.

Jack turned his eyes slowly to the old rum bottle. In a moment of madness, he’d filled it with seawater, but never had gone crazy enough to drink it. Any pirate worth his salt knew better than to drink seawater. Although, when one was really desperate…

When he returned his gaze to the open ocean, it was blocked by a strangely familiar body.

There was no way that the whelp had arrived on his dinghy so randomly; Will was off dropping the tart in Port Royal. So, that left only one option… he was an illusion conjured by Jack’s very desperate mind.

“Are you a figment of me imagination, or a delusion?” Jack paused, a crease forming in his brow, “Although, I think if I’d imagined ye, ye’d be naked.”

Imaginary Will seemed extremely concerned. He was checking Jack over and muttering under his breath. In fact, Jack was beginning to think that his imaginary Will was no fun at all. Imaginary Will didn’t seem at all interested in stripping off his clothes… or Jack’s for that matter, so what good was he as a figment?

“We need to get you some water,” imaginary Will said softly, brushing his fingers across Jack’s chapped lips.

Strange that the illusion of Will was so solid… “But we’re surrounded by water mate,” Jack slurred with a cocked grin.

Will’s frown deepened, “Please tell me you haven’t been drinking seawater!”

Jack didn’t answer. The Blue Pearl swam back into focus, along with her useless crew. At least it had chosen a good time to return. Even figment Will would be impressed with her grandeur. “Welcome to the Blue Pearl, luv.”

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Will was extremely disturbed by the state he found his lover in. The man was a complete wreck. Anger and vengeance would come later, for now, the young man was more concerned about getting Jack Sparrow back to health.

As soon as he realized that the dot on the horizon was a dinghy and Jack was her sole occupant, he slipped through the wall of his ship and back up through the floor of Jack’s rowboat. Traveling in such a manner left odd sensations tingling down his spine, but he wasn’t nearly patient enough to avoid them.

The Dutchman caught up with him within a few minutes and they hauled Jack, and his dinghy, onboard.

The man was in a state of complete insanity… which wasn’t too far from his normal state of mind, but was far enough to raise a few eyebrows. He ranted endlessly about the Blue Pearl and how they needed to take him to Tortuga so he could get a new crew.

Will escorted him away gently, the only one willing to nod and respond to everything he said. He got Jack settled in the Captain’s Quarters and left him alone only a moment to get some clean water. When he returned, Jack was yelling at a support beam, his sword drawn. Apparently, it had done or said something to offend him. Will had no trouble wrestling the weapon from him in his decrepit condition.

For many days, Will nursed his lover. Jack’s strength returned quickly, but it took his mind a bit longer to catch up. The Dutchman didn’t venture into the Locker during this time. Captain Turner was unwilling to risk Jack while he was sick, since he’d nearly lost him to the Locker when he’d been quite well. He was afraid that it would be no trouble to pry Jack’s soul from his body when he wasn’t capable of putting up a good fight.

The Spirit’s Call began to hum softly in the lower decks, for there was work to be done.

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Alright… I like this story, but it hasn’t exactly gotten a spectacular amount of page views. I’m actually really discouraged by the lack of attention Eternity has gotten. So, unless I get some kind of response after this chapter, I think I’m going to stop writing. I really do have so much more planned for this story. If you’re interested you have to let me know. Drop a review once in a while people… I live off feedback and nothing else, so you have to give me something for motivation!

TBC, maybe…