The Wraith of Jack

Part Seventeen: "In Need of a Crutch"

****
White. Everywhere. A blur. Unable to focus.

Pain. Excruciating pain.

Jack’s head moved slowly side to side as his vision unhurriedly began to clear. He rolled onto his right arm to relieve the pressure on his lower body. The cloudiness diminished, allowing him to gaze about the area tiredly. He was not sure if he was alone or not, but he did not ponder it for long. He could not see his crutches anywhere near him, making his breath accelerate as he panicked. They were too precious to be harmed.

He emitted a hoarse whine as he shifted onto his stomach and started to crawl about the ground.

“Please, if you have a heart, God,” he whispered, while the tears swallowed his eyes. “If there is a God, let me find them untouched.”

He stopped to wipe the dried semen from his mouth and chin; it was unknowable to him who it belonged to. It could have been from all three; it mattered not. But he did not dwell on it. His mind was fixed on Will’s gift to him.

The little strength he had dwindled fast, causing him to pant heavily from the physical exertion. He held down a sob and made his way toward a corner of the room. When he reached it, he succumbed to his tears.

There they were; unharmed and magnificent as ever.

A piece of parchment was on top of one, and Jack retrieved it with trembling hands. He wiped his eyes and tried to read.

I couldn’t let them destroy them. They wanted to once they had finished fornicating with you. I hid them here.
You will never see me again. I promise.

Bradley

Jack’s fingers caressed the smooth wood of one of the crutches.

“Thank you,” he uttered, almost inaudibly.

It took him a number of minutes to drag them to the middle of the space where his clothes lay. He moved to sit properly in order to put his breeches on, but he cried out in pain. Quickly, he shifted to his side. It was an exhausting endeavor to slide his leg into the garment. A hiss escaped his lips from the fabric rubbing slightly against his inner thigh. He pulled them to his waist and buttoned them; his shirt was next, which he did not look forward to.

It was difficult to put on the worn article while on his side, yet he managed to after a time. The overcoat was nearby, and it proved as strenuous as his shirt to get on.

Once dressed, he used his walking aides and stood. A wail of anguish sounded, and he frantically made to stand on his toes. He bit his lip as he whimpered quietly.

At last, he felt able to get up to the door and leave. He pushed the entrance open a bit to discern how many people were about. There was not a great deal, and he exited the blacksmith’s shop to begin his long, torturous trek home.

****
Numerous times he crumpled to the ground, not having the energy to continue on without a sufficient rest. His body begged him to stay immobile, but he fought the fatigue and unusual heat from the sun mentally and pressured himself to go on.

It seemed as if it was an eternity before the house was in sight. He smiled and laughed absentmindedly. The distance to travel to the porch was still another battle to be conquered.

He finally entered and gasped for breath.

“Jack, is that you?” Amelia asked from the kitchen when she heard the door close. “It’s ‘bout time, innit? Dinner’s almost ready and Mr. Norrington should be back in about thirty minutes.”

“Amelia.”

She turned around from the way her name was spoken feebly and breathlessly. Jack was leaning against the wall for support and appeared as if he were about to pass out.

“Oh my Lord!” she exclaimed and hurried to him.

His leg buckled, though he was caught before he could collapse to the floor.

“Sweet child, what happened to ya?” she inquired fretfully.
“Just….please….take me to the bedroom.”
“Yes, yes. Of course.”

She took his arm and slung it around her neck and placed hers about his torso. He was unable to bear his own weight, and so she practically dragged him to the room. She led him to the edge of the bed and helped him sit. A quivering whimper came from him and a few tears trickled from his eyes.

“What is it?”
Jack shook his head and situated himself to lie on his side.
“Where are ya shoes?” she questioned and moved down to his foot. “Dear Lord,” she said softly upon seeing the burned flesh. “Do ya have any other wounds like this?”
He nodded hesitantly.
“Where, dear?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Don’t you even try to play stubborn with me. We need to take care of ‘em so they’ll heal in the best way possible.”
“They’re….They’re…..”
Amelia understood. “All right. Then you tell James to take care of them, you hear?”
Jack nodded.
“I’ll get this one cleaned and bandaged.”

She left for a brief period and returned with a long, thick cloth; a bottle; and a smaller, slightly softer, piece of fabric.

“This is a remedy that can cure anything,” she boasted and gave him a kind smile. “Been in my family for generations.”

She sat down by him and lifted his foot to rest on her leg. He laid his head on the pillow and closed his eyes, preparing himself for the medicinal substance.

“Are ya ready, dear?”
Jack answered with a muffled, “Yes.”

She poured some onto his skin, making him shriek and wriggle fiercely. Her grip tightened around his ankle to hold him still.

“Just a little more.”

He buried his face in the pillow as he cried helplessly. His fingers clutched the sheet he lay on.

“There,” she announced and began to dab the small cloth against the inflamed skin. “You’re all right. You’re all right.”

She patted at it for a few minutes and then began to wrap the lengthy fabric about the foot until the wounded area was completely covered.

“All done. It’s gonna be fine. You just relax and get some rest.”
“Don’t tell James,” he forced out, sounding winded. “Keep him away for a while, will you?”
“Can I trust you to tell him so he can tend to the other burns? I worry for you.”
“Promise. I promise.”
She stroked his hair in an attempt to pacify him somewhat. “It’s all right, Jack. Can I get you anythin’?”
“No thanks.”
“You just holler if you find that you do.”
His lips quirked into a minute smile. “I will. Thank you, Amelia.”
“You’re very welcome, Jack.”

Once she had gone, Jack breathed deeply and gritted his teeth. He struck the bed with a clenched fist; his shoulders shook as he was overcome with grief.

“Fucking bugger!” he yelled into the pillow.

The thing he wanted most was not there, and he started to doubt if the young captain would ever return. However, the mortification swept over him, and he found himself hoping the man never would.

He could not bear the idea of Will seeing him in such a state again.

****
“Evening, Amelia,” James greeted warmly as he stood at the entrance to the kitchen.
“Good evenin’, sir.”
“Is Jack here or did he make a trip into town again?”
She shook here head a bit nervously. “He did go, but he’s back now.”
“Ah, good.” He began to walk away.
“Where you going?” She made her tone curious rather than worried.
James stared at her puzzling. “To change into another pair of clothes.”

She crossed to him, took him by the arm, and pulled him to the sofa.

“Why don’t you just sit here and I’ll get you somethin’ to eat?”
“Amelia, what’s going on?”
“What makes you ask that?”
He simply gave her a stern expression.
“I’m sorry. It’s just that Jack is sleepin’ back there and has turned ill. He asked me to tell you that it’d be best if you spent the night out here.”
“If he’s sick, I want to be with him to make sure he’s all right.”

Amelia knew she could not persuade him. She sighed and said, “All right. Just….be gentle with him.”

The flabbergasted look returned to his features, though he did not say anything. He crept down the hallway quietly and heard a faint voice coming from within the bedroom.

“….A pirate’s life for me…..devils and black sheep….really bad eggs….”

James entered silently and shut the door behind him. Jack had his back to him and was on his side. He sang softly to the wall.

“Jack?”

If he had not learned how to read most imperceptible things others missed, he would not have noticed the thin frame stiffen. The voice stopped immediately.

“Amelia informed me you were sick,” James stated as he went to the bed. He sat down and gazed at the pirate. “I just wanted to check on you. Are you doing all right?”
Jack nodded.
“Can I get-”

He paused due to the sharp intake of breath and quaking that was done in response to him placing a hand on a shoulder. Jack’s eyes widened and his respirations quickened.

“What is it, Jack?” He did not know why, but his heart throbbed in his chest as extreme concern filled him.
“Nothin’, love,” Jack replied in a constricted tone.

James moved his hand to Jack’s waist and drew closer. It slipped to the pirate’s lower abdomen, producing a wounded yelp from him; his face morphed into an expression of severe pain. James instantly retracted his hand.

“Jack, you’re hurt,” he said in a wavering voice.
“It’s nothing,” he forced out.
“Let me see. Turn around.”
“Please don’t, Jamie. It’s nothing.”
“It’s obviously not ‘nothing.’ Come on.”

Jack lifted himself with his left arm and shifted to his other side. His visage twitched with grimaces. Once settled, he raised up slightly for James to inch his shirt upward. The appalled look that clouded James’ countenance made Jack entirely ashamed.

“J-Jack,” James whispered horrified. “What happened?”
Jack could not will himself to speak.
“When did this happen?” James studied the scalded flesh thoroughly. “Who did this?”
“James, please-”
“Who, Jack?”
The firmness James spoke with scared him into answering. “They found me, James.” He was close to tears.
“Who?”
“Men, four of them, that held me captive.”

James’ face drained of color and his heart felt as if it had stopped for a second.

“H-How? It’s not possible. Will and the crew killed them all-”
“No they didn’t!” Jack shouted.
“All right, all right. Calm down. I’m sorry. Are there any other burns?”
Jack closed his eyes and nodded.
“Where?”
The older man pointed to the spots.
“Oh God,” James breathed. He despised the question he wished to be answered next. “Did they….Did they rape you?”

Jack shattered. He burst into sobs. It provided confirmation for James.

“I’ll treat them now,” James said as tears threatened to fall from his own eyes. “I’ll be back. Fetch the….the medicine Amelia has.”

****
Jack screamed and cried uncontrollably. He wailed in agony and fidgeted as James poured some of the remedy onto his injured backside. He smothered his face by pressing it into the mattress.

“Stop! Jamie! Please stop! Please!” he begged heart wrenchingly.
“We’re almost done. I promise.”

Jack’s inner thigh had already been tended to and bandaged. He yearned for the procedure to his final wound to be over with.

“There, it’s done,” James at last said comfortingly. “I’ll just wrap this around you.”

He put a piece of fabric over the burned area and took the ends in his hands.

“Lie on your back. Just for a moment.”

Jack cooperated, and James tied it on his waist, situating it slightly so that it protected the wound on Jack’s stomach as well. Jack curled up on his side and trembled ceaselessly.

“You did fine,” James assured and rubbed the man’s arm gently. “They’ll be healed soon. That medicine is practically magic.” He paused before continuing. “I’ll sleep in the living room tonight. Try to get some yourself. You’re safe.”

Jack could hardly comprehend the man’s words. His mind spun in a haze from the awful pain. James placed a kiss on his arm and got up gradually.

It took everything he had to walk out the door and leave Jack alone for the night.

****
Jack could not stand to be touched. He could not stand being held. He detested James even looking at him, feeling too disgusting for the man’s eyes. Food was rejected; water was the only thing he would have in his mouth.

For days, he resided in the bedroom, and James still did not sleep beside him. Having the former Commodore close sent Jack into hysterics.

Thunder grumbled in the night sky and lightning tore through the clouds. The likelihood of a storm made James wary when he heard a knock on the door. Who would be out?

He opened the entrance and was utterly surprised. Will stood before him, posture rigid and visage covered with defiance.

“What are you doing here?” James questioned blandly.
“Where is he?”
“He’s resting.”
“Something happened to him. I need to see him.”
“He’s fine now, Will. He’s recovering.”
“How bad is it?”

The slight hesitation made Will move to enter.

“He doesn’t need to see you.”
“Let me through, James,” the captain said firmly.
“He can’t see you. He can’t even see me.”
Will’s features faltered to sorrow. “What did they do?”
“They burned him with a poker a few times in different areas, beat him, sodomized him countless times. It was as if he was thrust back into the Hell we worked so hard to get him out of.”

Will swallowed and bowed his head. He felt like someone had punched his stomach.

“Who knows if they’re still prowling the streets,” James said dejectedly. “He wanted so much to….to get away from here for the day. I doubt he’ll ever go back.”

The young captain breathed in deeply before he began to tread away.

“Where are you going?”

Will’s fingers brushed against the hilt of his sword. They adjusted the pistol tucked away at his belt. They felt the dagger on the opposite side of his hip from the sword.

“I’m going to do what I failed to do before,” he replied boldly and was engulfed by the darkness of night.


Part Eighteen: "Blood Soaked Angel"

****
The tavern was a place of interest.

Will scanned the rowdy crowd in hopes that a face would stand out to him. He soon proceeded to the bar and ordered a drink in case it took awhile. His eyes darted for a brief second to the man next to him, who appeared a bit more than depressed. Something compelled him, and Will did not deny it.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked and took a sip from his mug.
“I’ve done an unforgivable thing.”
Will squinted and cocked his head. “You don’t seem like a man who would do something such as that.”
“You’d be surprised. At least I had the courage to spare his crutches,” he muttered, though Will caught it.

The captain rapidly thought of his actions before he went through with it. There was no turning back, and he did not feel the least bit frightened of the deeds he was set on doing.

He pulled out his dagger slowly and pressed it against Bradley’s chest. Bradley looked down as if it were nothing before meeting Will’s fiery gaze.

“Give me a reason why I shouldn’t gut you right here,” Will growled venomously.
Bradley shrugged and smiled resignedly. “There really isn’t one. I was the one that lured him to them and did nothing to stop them.”
“I’ll make you a deal then. Listen carefully. I’ll spare your wretched life if you deliver the other bastards to me tonight.”
“Where would you want them to meet you?”

Will put his knife away and stated frankly, “The abandoned blacksmith’s shop in half an hour. If you run, I will find you.”

****
Three figures stepped into the dimly lit building and spotted a lone man leaning against a post in the center of the room.

“You’re the one that’s come to avenge the one-legged whore?” Daniels spat sardonically.
Will lifted his head and surveyed his enemies. His fingers twitched excitedly at his sides.
“Did he happen to mention,” Daniels continued and crossed to Will to be directly in front of him, “that we fucked him for hours?”
Will upturned his head a little and glared daggers at him.
“And his mouth; we didn’t forget it. We fucked that orifice raw as well. It goes without saying he couldn’t speak for a period of time.”
The blood pulsed and his skin rose in temperature. He did not show sympathy or sadness; his expression conveyed sheer ruthlessness.

“Care to see the blood?” Garner interjected casually. He pointed to several places on the ground. The stains designated the locations in which they had dragged Jack about, held him to the floor, and forced numerous objects into his body that made the delicate tissue rip and bleed. “Does it not get you off?”
Will treaded leisurely to him, and a smug smile quirked his lips. “Gang fucking an invalid with no chance to get away? I thought you’d be one to want a struggle.”
Garner straightened to stare into the depths of Will’s eyes. “Believe me, he did. And he paid dearly for it as a result.”
“And you got off on it?”
“Exceedingly more so than when I saw his leg lying across his torso after passing out from having it sliced off.” He grinned wickedly from the sickened flicker in Will’s eyes. “The surgeon thought it’d do him a bit of good to say goodbye to it before we butchered it and tossed the pieces to ravenous dogs.”
“You horrendous bastard,” Will hissed.

Garner did not reply, and Will heard the tiniest hint of movement. He went left as Garner jumped right, barely escaping Carter’s blade that was brought down speedily. He unsheathed his weapon and engaged the man in battle.

His passion for radical justice fueled him to his highest ability, and he was determined to be the one who walked out alive.

****
The breath came weightily as he staggered up the hill to the secluded abode. When he arrived, he slumped against the house and knocked on the door.

James opened it promptly and was taken aback. The front of Will’s shirt was saturated with the color red. There were cuts on his face, though they were nothing to fret over. The brown locks were dangling in front of his visage in sweaty strands. He was haggard in appearance, but his voice was fraught with power when he spoke.

“Will,” James said and stared at him fixedly. “What did you do?”
“Tell Jack they will not harm him again. He is safe.”
“You killed them,” James stated, completely dumbfounded.
Will nodded and let out a deep breath. “Just let him know.”

He began to stroll away, and it was at that moment James saw he was limping.

“Will,” he said quietly.
The captain turned around.
“You’re wounded.”
Will shook his head and smiled. “Just a stab wound. I made a tourniquet for it; it’ll be fine.”
“Well….Why don’t you come in here and tell him yourself?”
Will frowned in puzzlement.
“Come on.”

Will strode to the door and entered. He was unsure why, but a significant amount of apprehension consumed him.

“He’s in the bedroom – last door on your right. He’ll probably be asleep, but….”

James trailed into silence as Will started toward the room. He exhaled a shaking breath and went in. From what he could observe from the doorway, Jack was indeed sleeping. Quietly, he crept to the bedside and gazed at him with troubled eyes. Jack lay on his side, facing Will, and the sheet was pulled up to his waist. He wore no shirt, and Will hungered to taste the skin.

Instead of giving in to his temptation, he stood with arms slack at his sides looking down at him; he was Jack’s blood soaked angel.

“They’re gone, Jack,” he spoke softly. “They will never return to abuse you again. I promise. I did not fail you this time.” His hand moved to touch Jack’s cheek, yet he stopped before his fingers made contact. A single tear fell to the floor. “I know that it is inevitable for you to be afraid of everyone now, afraid to be touched….James is a good man. I wouldn’t have left you here if he was anything other than that. You are safe here.”

He knelt to the ground and laced his fingers with Jack’s.

“I must leave now.” The voice quivered. “But I will come back to you. I love you, Jack.”

He kissed the top of Jack’s head and stroked the hair affectionately.

In a minute’s time, Will was gone.

Jack sighed, rubbed his face against the pillow, and opened his eyes. Exhaustedly, he gazed about the room as if expecting to see something.

“William?” he called in a hushed tone.

He had heard words; they provided him a feeling of abundant security. The person’s voice he thought to have heard was Will’s.

He swallowed his disappointment and nodded. “Only a dream. Nothing more than a fantasy.”