Ad Infinitum
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Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › Slash - Male/Male › Jack/Will
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
18
Views:
2,430
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
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Category:
Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › Slash - Male/Male › Jack/Will
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
18
Views:
2,430
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
Disclaimer: We do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie series, nor any of the characters from it. We do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 7: Corpus Delicti
****
Chapter 7: Corpus Delicti
****
“What’da mean she’s not there?” Jack’s eyes were bugged out in frustration. “I sewed her in there meself.”
Will had squatted next to the sodden canvas shroud, and was running a finger along the carefully sewn stitching. “You did this?”
Jack hitched his shoulders. “Well, I didn’t’t kill her, if that’s what you mean. She was already dead when I found her.”
Will paused and studied Jack for a long moment. “I know that. You seem so hateful towards her, yet you went and retrieved her body and prepared her for burial.” His brow furrowed as he asked, “Why?”
“Seemed the least I could do, mate.” Jack glanced away briefly. “Thought you might want her back.”
Will stared at Jack for another moment, then with a deliberate motion, pulled his knife from his belt.
“What are you doing?” Jack narrowed his eyes. “Don’t believe me?”
Will sighed and looked up. “Yes, Jack. I believe you. Is it too much to think I might want to see her?”
“It’s not a pretty sight.” Gibbs ventured. “The gulls had been at her. She was mostly gone by the time we reached her.”
Ana waved an impatient hand to hush him. “Don’t you see? He needs to know.” She glared at the rest of the crew and added, “How else can he make his peace?”
The crew held their breath as Will carefully cut through the stitching, revealing the gruesome contents inside with visibly shaking hands. They had good reason to hold their breath, the stench was almost overwhelming.
Will didn’t seem to be affected, in fact, his face softened and he reached and tenderly brushed a stray lock of hair away from the gruesomely ravished face, careful not to disturb the decay.
Ana squatted next to Will and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Her soul is wandering, searching for a resting place. Am I right?”
Will shook his head, eyes fixed on the deconstruction of his beloved wife. “I’m not sure what the rules are for those on land. At sea, she would have come to me.”
Jack, who kept his distance and whose face displayed a myriad of emotions, settled on a thought. “Ask HER. She'll know.”
“Who?” Will slowly straightened up to face him. “Isn't it a bit late to ask Elizabeth where she went off to?”
“Not HER, mate!” Jack rolled his eyes. “HER!”
“Her?” It was Will’s turn to roll his eyes. “Jack, I should do us all a favor and turn you into fish bait, you know that?”
“Already been done, mate. Remember? Well, cephalopod bait,” Jack waved a dismissive hand. “Either way,” Jack smirked, then, as if catching himself stealing from the collection plate, he fell serious again.
“Really, I worry about you sometimes, William, you‘re not always all that quick on the uptake, are you?” He began to pace, weaving his words with his hands. “Who was it that put you into this position, with her “touch of destiny” and all that mumbo jumbo? Who was it that made up this buggering clause of having to wait ten years to set foot on shore, and be cursed unless your dearly beloved was waiting? Who should be here, right here, on this deck, explaining what in the name of fuck you’re supposed to do now?” He stopped pacing and pointed a finger at Will. “How do you contact this mighty goddess employer of yours?”
“I don’t.” Will frowned in consternation. “She just… appears. When it suits her fancy.”
“Why that’s just bloody inconvenient. Isn't that just like a goddess for you. Capricious and fickle, never around when you need them.” Jack lifted a pondering finger to his lip. “Now, why does that sound so familiar?”
Not indulging in further self-knowledge, Jack took a step and faced the crew determinedly. “Obviously there’s no point in dangling the gudgeon overboard again, that didn’t attract even the lesser gods.”
“I’m not-”
Jack stifled Will’s objections with a sharp show of a palm and a tutting sound.
Rocking on his heels, squinting at his rum bunch of a crew and the respective guests inquisitively, Jack planted his hands to his sword and pistol, steadied himself, and with a nudge of his chin, prompted; “Any…suggestions? Ideas? Anyone? Anyone? Turner?”
Will turned his eyes away from Jack like a schoolboy trying to avoid answering a question he’d not studied for, busying himself with pulling the shroud over Elizabeth’s face again.
Gibbs opened his mouth to pitch in, face perplexed, but was interrupted before he got out more than an “I-”
“No,” came the stern answer from the Captain of the ship. “Next?” Jack’s gaze caught AnaMaria, who shifted on her feet nervously, picking on a loose thread on her shirt.
“Nothing? What is this? On any normal day, the lot of you would be offering your wits and wisdom, and now you just stand there like some feculent piles of upturned shit! Look at you!”
Will collected himself and swiftly made towards Jack. “That’s enough from you for one day, Jack.”
The snarl earned a brief, seemingly nonchalant glance to his direction, and not much more. Jack faced his crew again, but his words were aimed at Will. “There is a soul running around on the loose somewhere. Your…wife’s, no less, and we have no means of retrieving it, unless we can think of a way to get your handler to show herself.” Jack turned to Will again, eyes cold, face hardened. “How’s that for a day’s worth?”
Closing in on Jack, hands clenched into fists, Will lowered his voice into a rumble. “The day’s not over yet. But your’s may have been numbered.”
Jack swept his gaze to his side, smirking. “Aye, and how much would that have to do with you, luv?”
During the rest of their match of staring each other down, neither of the men noticed the crew backing up, startled, the religious ones grasping for their rosaries with their hearts pounding in their ears.
A voice wrapped in venomous velvet shot clearly through the air.
“Not as much as I had hoped.”
****
Chapter 7: Corpus Delicti
****
“What’da mean she’s not there?” Jack’s eyes were bugged out in frustration. “I sewed her in there meself.”
Will had squatted next to the sodden canvas shroud, and was running a finger along the carefully sewn stitching. “You did this?”
Jack hitched his shoulders. “Well, I didn’t’t kill her, if that’s what you mean. She was already dead when I found her.”
Will paused and studied Jack for a long moment. “I know that. You seem so hateful towards her, yet you went and retrieved her body and prepared her for burial.” His brow furrowed as he asked, “Why?”
“Seemed the least I could do, mate.” Jack glanced away briefly. “Thought you might want her back.”
Will stared at Jack for another moment, then with a deliberate motion, pulled his knife from his belt.
“What are you doing?” Jack narrowed his eyes. “Don’t believe me?”
Will sighed and looked up. “Yes, Jack. I believe you. Is it too much to think I might want to see her?”
“It’s not a pretty sight.” Gibbs ventured. “The gulls had been at her. She was mostly gone by the time we reached her.”
Ana waved an impatient hand to hush him. “Don’t you see? He needs to know.” She glared at the rest of the crew and added, “How else can he make his peace?”
The crew held their breath as Will carefully cut through the stitching, revealing the gruesome contents inside with visibly shaking hands. They had good reason to hold their breath, the stench was almost overwhelming.
Will didn’t seem to be affected, in fact, his face softened and he reached and tenderly brushed a stray lock of hair away from the gruesomely ravished face, careful not to disturb the decay.
Ana squatted next to Will and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Her soul is wandering, searching for a resting place. Am I right?”
Will shook his head, eyes fixed on the deconstruction of his beloved wife. “I’m not sure what the rules are for those on land. At sea, she would have come to me.”
Jack, who kept his distance and whose face displayed a myriad of emotions, settled on a thought. “Ask HER. She'll know.”
“Who?” Will slowly straightened up to face him. “Isn't it a bit late to ask Elizabeth where she went off to?”
“Not HER, mate!” Jack rolled his eyes. “HER!”
“Her?” It was Will’s turn to roll his eyes. “Jack, I should do us all a favor and turn you into fish bait, you know that?”
“Already been done, mate. Remember? Well, cephalopod bait,” Jack waved a dismissive hand. “Either way,” Jack smirked, then, as if catching himself stealing from the collection plate, he fell serious again.
“Really, I worry about you sometimes, William, you‘re not always all that quick on the uptake, are you?” He began to pace, weaving his words with his hands. “Who was it that put you into this position, with her “touch of destiny” and all that mumbo jumbo? Who was it that made up this buggering clause of having to wait ten years to set foot on shore, and be cursed unless your dearly beloved was waiting? Who should be here, right here, on this deck, explaining what in the name of fuck you’re supposed to do now?” He stopped pacing and pointed a finger at Will. “How do you contact this mighty goddess employer of yours?”
“I don’t.” Will frowned in consternation. “She just… appears. When it suits her fancy.”
“Why that’s just bloody inconvenient. Isn't that just like a goddess for you. Capricious and fickle, never around when you need them.” Jack lifted a pondering finger to his lip. “Now, why does that sound so familiar?”
Not indulging in further self-knowledge, Jack took a step and faced the crew determinedly. “Obviously there’s no point in dangling the gudgeon overboard again, that didn’t attract even the lesser gods.”
“I’m not-”
Jack stifled Will’s objections with a sharp show of a palm and a tutting sound.
Rocking on his heels, squinting at his rum bunch of a crew and the respective guests inquisitively, Jack planted his hands to his sword and pistol, steadied himself, and with a nudge of his chin, prompted; “Any…suggestions? Ideas? Anyone? Anyone? Turner?”
Will turned his eyes away from Jack like a schoolboy trying to avoid answering a question he’d not studied for, busying himself with pulling the shroud over Elizabeth’s face again.
Gibbs opened his mouth to pitch in, face perplexed, but was interrupted before he got out more than an “I-”
“No,” came the stern answer from the Captain of the ship. “Next?” Jack’s gaze caught AnaMaria, who shifted on her feet nervously, picking on a loose thread on her shirt.
“Nothing? What is this? On any normal day, the lot of you would be offering your wits and wisdom, and now you just stand there like some feculent piles of upturned shit! Look at you!”
Will collected himself and swiftly made towards Jack. “That’s enough from you for one day, Jack.”
The snarl earned a brief, seemingly nonchalant glance to his direction, and not much more. Jack faced his crew again, but his words were aimed at Will. “There is a soul running around on the loose somewhere. Your…wife’s, no less, and we have no means of retrieving it, unless we can think of a way to get your handler to show herself.” Jack turned to Will again, eyes cold, face hardened. “How’s that for a day’s worth?”
Closing in on Jack, hands clenched into fists, Will lowered his voice into a rumble. “The day’s not over yet. But your’s may have been numbered.”
Jack swept his gaze to his side, smirking. “Aye, and how much would that have to do with you, luv?”
During the rest of their match of staring each other down, neither of the men noticed the crew backing up, startled, the religious ones grasping for their rosaries with their hearts pounding in their ears.
A voice wrapped in venomous velvet shot clearly through the air.
“Not as much as I had hoped.”
****