Turning A Blind Eye

Title: Turning a Blind Eye.
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Author: Shara Nesu
Pairing: J/W (of course!)
Rating: NC17 Warning: M/M Graphic sex
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own them *sob* Wishing I could have a little Johnny Depp all my own though.
FB: Shara-nesu@supanet.com My Second story outside the Angel/Spike fandom. Actually this fic did start of as one, but it mutated.
Archived: Shara's place: http://www.shara-nesu.supanet.com/index.html
Distribution: Want, Have, Take. Please!
Summary: *AU - Changes to the end of the Film - you'll see as you read.* Barbossa has a unique way of dealing with wilful prisoners, and unfortunately Will falls victim to them. Will he be able to deal with what has befallen him or will Jack have to come to the rescue once again? Yes, he does. (PS, I am Happy Ending Girl - Remember!)
Thanks to Helen, my fabulous beta. And to Rose, who convinced me too see the film in the first place.

William Turner is dead.

I know this for a fact. Jack saw his gravestone last year. He told me about it. It’s beautiful really. A marble stone Angel, staring out to sea, looking for the man who’s name she stands upon. The plinth has my name on. William Thomas Turner. The stone says I’m only 19 years old. A Boy. A Child. Innocent. And like that innocence Will Turner *is* dead - dead and gone. He died at the hand of Captain Barbossa.

I’m not Will Turner. I’m not the boy that Elizabeth Swann fell in love with.

I’m Will. Will Sparrow to most. I’m the Will that Captain Jack Sparrow brought to life.

He gave me life, while Elizabeth gave me death and a tombstone. I can’t blame her for that. The man she knew is gone. So let me tell you who this new Will is. Who I am. And how I came to be.

~*~*~*~

Seven Years Earlier: The Black Pearl {Captained by Barbossa}

Will’s POV: The last thing I clearly remember is the Interceptor exploding into flames. I remember the colours, the shades of gold and red. The flames that turned into black smoke. I escaped from that dying ship, by accident really, I managed to squeeze out a hole in her side, and then dove into the safety of the water as she exploded into flames.

I remember swimming to the Black Pearl, knowing that Elizabeth had once again been taken prisoner by that bastard pirate, Barbossa. This time, however, I could save her. This time I had the power to stop this stupidity. It was my blood the cursed pirates wanted, and I was going to give them just that.

Of course, I asked for a price. The safety of Elizabeth and Jack. I couldn’t have anything happen to them, and I also included the rest of Jack’s crew in the process. That agreement didn’t go as planned. The crew were locked in the Black Pearl’s hold, while Jack and Elizabeth were forced to walk the plank, and abandoned on a small island. Not at all what I envisioned. They were alive though, and I trusted in Jack to keep Elizabeth that way. He might be slightly...well, more than slightly strange in the head, but he is a survivor and I trusted him... to a degree.

Unfortunately, Barbossa wasn’t the fool I took him for. That was and will always be my greatest downfall. He might have been evil, vindictive, swarthy, but he was no fool. After Jack and Elizabeth had been forced off the ship, he turned to me and smiled in a way that made my insides turn to ice. Never have I seen such a smile... and never would I again.

Oh, Barbossa was clever. He called for Bo’sun, a huge black man with strange markings, to hold me down. I was confused at first, wondering what the devil was going to happen to me.

“Now Master Turner,” Barbossa purred in his rough voice, “I’ve decided I’ve had quite enough of prisoners escaping, and little maids doing the run around. This time you won’t be able to escape me.” He nodded at Bo’sun and his hands tightened around my chin and head. I started to panic, frantically struggling in the powerful grip of Bo'sun’ enormous hands. “This time you’ll be begging for me to end it.”

That was the last sight I ever saw. Barbossa standing before me, a monkey grinning on his shoulder, and in his hand an impossibly large and sharp knife. Four slashes and I never saw anything again.

Afterwards, I was thrown into a damp cell in the hold. I know it was there, because Jack’s crew kept crying out to me. AnaMaria was sobbing my name. I didn’t answer, I couldn’t. There was just the dark and the pain. Pain such as I’ve never experienced, nor wish to experience again. Pain you can’t explain, for there are no words. No words for when all you want to do is scream for death to appear before you and end your suffering. I would have said anything. Done anything to end that pain. But I bit my lip, because I knew that death would come on swift wings when we reached our destination. After all, Barbossa had promised.

Everything was a bit of a blur...sorry, muddle after that. Barbossa came and took me from my cell, Bo'sun carrying me out as the pain was debilitating. I was dragged ashore and deep into the caves. Everything happened so fast. I heard Jack’s voice, recognising the shock in his tone when he laid eyes upon me. Jack and Barbossa fought, while I managed to fend off a couple of pirates. Don’t ask why I did, it seemed that even with the incredible pain, I still held on to life. I held my own for a long time until suddenly, without warning, I felt this pull towards the Aztec treasure. Whatever guided my hand, whether it was God or fate I don’t know, but I cut my own wrist and bloodied the gold. I didn’t see the drops of blood fall, I only felt something pass through me, and I knew the curse was broken.

Hands were upon me then, Jack’s hands. Soft words I can’t remember were whispered into my ear, and ragged linen was wrapped around my bleeding wrist. I think I was in a daze after that. I just followed where Jack led me. There was something of a scuffle when the English soldiers arrived, and I remember female screaming.

A woman...Elizabeth? was screaming my name over and over like a lament. I think it was, for it was then that William Thomas Turner died (for her at least). Soft hands touched my face, but were roughly shoved away, and that was the last time I would ever touch my Elizabeth.

Then there was screaming and yelling. Jack was shouting into my ear; “the Pearl’s ‘ere. She’s ‘ere, Will!” More sounds of battle, and I was dragged along once again by Jack. He never left me. It was as if I was attached to him by apron strin

All of a sudden, I was back aboard the Pearl. It was immensely funny. I was screaming with laughter, tears running from my damaged eyes, and Jack was shaking me. Then there was nothing.

~*~*~*~

Jack told me it was a fortnight later before I regained my wits. I drifted between sleeping and waking, dreams and insanity. I had been running a high fever, AnaMaria had feared I was near death, but with her and Jack’s nursing I recovered my strength. That is to say in body only. For my mind was broken, and I could see no future for me, a blind blacksmith.

For a month I languished in my Cabin (which used to be Jack’s), until the fateful day I decided to take my own life. AnaMaria brought my dinner that night and left. I had refused to eat in their presence, and wouldn’t allow them to help feed me either. I didn’t eat it, just sat there for what felt like hours, feeling the weight of the sharp meat knife in my hand. Moments later, it was against my right wrist and I was cutting.

It was only good fortune (though I didn’t think that at the time) that saved me. Jack had chosen that time to come and see if I’d eaten. Once again he rescued me, this time from myself. He was screaming, his words rolling into one as he bandaged my arm. Then he was shaking me, violently.

“What in God’s name do yer think yer doing!?” He bellowed, his hands holding tight to my shoulders and shaking me until my teeth rattled. “Ya stupid fool!”

“I’m dead,” I moaned, my head snapping back and forth as he shook me. “Will Turner is dead!”

“Master Turner might be bloody dead, but Will - my Will is still damn well quickening, and yer damn well better get used to it!”

His Will? The shaking stopped and I couldn’t breath. His Will? Strong fingers released my arms and I fell back, slumping to the floor.

“I’ve been too easy on you, Will. Things are going to change, Savvy?”

And change they did. No longer was I allowed to wallow in my Cabin. With every dawn, I was dragged out my nice warm bed and set to work. Each pirate it seemed had something to teach me, and my days were rapidly filling up with learning to handle this fine ship blind. It was then that The Black Pearl was my only home. It was as if she was mother and protector, and as the weeks passed I didn’t think I could ever leave her...or her Captain. Life changed. Master William T Turner, the beloved of Elizabeth Swann was dead. I knew that now. I was someone new, I was just Will, and I was a pirate.

During the months that followed, my training was as harsh as it was when I apprenticed at the local blacksmith‘s when I was younger. I scrubbed decks, tied rigging, and relearned all the simple things in life. I could sew my button back onto my shirt without pricking my fingers. I could fix the large fishing nets, when they split after a good catch. I could clean a gun barrel and load it. Kinda guess too in what direction I should point it at. As long as it was living and talking, I could aim at my target. I could peel vegetables and help prepare meals. I could even tell the difference between ordinary metals and precious metal (gold being Jack’s favourite) after Jack raided a merchant’s ship. My most exciting lesson however, was at the Pearls’ wheel.

Aye, Jack taught me how to navigate. I could tell the direction we were going by the sun on my face or the wind in my hair. I knew aft from fore, and could follow Jack’s directions when he called to port or starboard. Jack trusted me to sail his ship and to me that made life worth living.

~*~*~*~

It was now eight months after the fateful day that Barbossa took my sight. My face and eyes were healed, but I could only guess at my appearance. AnaMaria, when cleaning my wounds had told me the cuts to my eyes were healed nicely, wounds reduced to whitening scar lines across my skin. She said that my eyes, that were once hazel, were speckled across with lines of white, though they were in no way ugly. I didn’t believe her. I could feel the rough lines of the scars round my eyes. To me they felt like huge ridges of skin standing out from the surface of my face. I felt like I was a freak.

However, to my joy, after all that time I discovered I wasn’t totally blind. As the swelling and the wounds healed, a little light reappeared in my vision. I began to be able to tell light from dark, spot large shapes around me, and not walk into anything, but that was about it. After a while, my sight didn’t improve but it was better than total darkness.

One day, however, my whole life changed again. Will the Pirate, suddenly become Will the very unsure. Jack raided a Merchant ship carrying wares from far and wide. Something different from what we were used to. No longer were there treasure in metals and items to sell in Torguna, but the ship held cases and cases of linen and what they called Silk from the East. Jack, for some unknown reason, was thrilled at his raid, and had case after case dragged onto the Black Pearl’s deck. I couldn’t figure out what he found so exciting at the time because I was steering, making sure the Ship remained at the side of the Merchant vessel. It was only later that I discovered what Jack found so wonderful about his new discovery.

I had retired to my cabin after a long day, when abruptly Jack threw open the door and waltzed into my room carrying armloads of materials, which he dumped, unceremoniously into my lap. Strong, slim hands grabbed my own and filled them with the softest material I’d ever felt.

“Feel it, darlin’,” Jack purred, as he forced my hands to stroke the material. “Softer than the finest velvet or fur.”

I smiled as I stroked the material. It was true what he said. It slipped and slid through my fingers, like water but with substance. Jack loved this kind of thing. He loved touching things. He would stroke the Pearl’s wheel, feeling the hard wood under his hands. He would play with my hair when I steered, braiding it, or twisting little ornaments into it so it wouldn’t fall into my eyes. He would forever be straightening my shirt, touching my throat with long soft fingers... My thoughts immediately stopped.

“It’s called Silk, that’s what that Capt’n said.” He played with the material, letting the soft waves fall through his hands into mine. Stroking the bulk of it over my lap, across my thighs.

Holy mother! I immediately realised what was happening. Jack’s fingers were touching me. The silk was there between us, but that was but an excuse. He was...wanted to touch me! I felt myself trembling with his caresses. He started to fold a length of silk around my shoulders, sliding his hands across my back, his breath next to my ear.

“It would make a fine shirt, for ye Will,” he mumbled, seeming to lean closer to me.

I couldn’t answer. I don’t think I could comprehend anyone wanting to be near me. I was a blind freak. Ugly. Unbearable to look at! “Please,” I moaned, though not entirely sure what I was asking for.

“Shirts of silk for me Will,” Jack whispered into my ear.

I gasped when I realised just how close he was to my face. I could feel his breath on my neck as he breathed, and when he spoke, he puffed into my ear. Every breath made me shiver. Then within a heartbeat - he was gone.

Jack’s visit had left me breathless, and with a small...well actually, very hard problem. I couldn’t move from my spot on the bed, folds of silk draped around my body. I found myself thinking, wondering if Jack’s skin would be as soft as this silk. Wondering if...

Oh God! Please no more. I can’t torture myself with these thoughts and feelings. Jack aroused me! A man! What had become of me?!! Jack would be so disgusted...wouldn’t he? For the first time in eight months, I prayed.

The next morning, I didn’t rise with the dawn. I couldn’t face another day wondering. I hadn’t slept all night, the feeling, the smell, and sound of Jack was still on my mind and body. I tried to fight the arousal that flared just at the thought of Jack’s hands on me. I tried to form the words, to beg Jack‘s forgiveness for thinking of him in such a way. We were men...I couldn’t desire him. The blindness must have taken my sanity with it, because for a moment last night, I had believed that Jack wanted to touch me. That he had, at every opportunity, found a way to lay his hands on my body or hair. No, that couldn’t be true. I disgusted myself. I should have died when I was meant to. For the first time in eight months, tears filled my eyes and I wept for myself and for Jack.

It must have been a few hours after dawn when the door to the cabin flew open. “Will!!” Jack’s voice screamed out. Strong hands were upon me again, pulling my arms away from my body for examination. Fingers dug into my skin as he checked me over. Then I understood, as the soft pad of his thumb rubbed against the twin scars on my right wrist. “Oh gods, Will,” Jack suddenly breathed in relief, and flopped down beside me.

I drew myself up into a sitting position and pulled my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around my legs. I was trembling; a soft sniffle escaping every now and then as the last of the sobs slowed and finally stopped. I could see the dark shape of Jack sitting on my bed - I wished I could see his face. What would have been reflected there? Shock? Disgust? Fear? Disappointment? “I’m sorry,” I mumble, burying my face into my bare knees. I sleep in a long nightshirt, but it must have riddp anp and my legs were bared.

“Darlin’, I thought I’d lost yer.” Jack’s hand attentively touched my leg, and I felt his fingers stroking from my ankle and up the curve of my fibula muscle. I shivered. “Don’t ever frighten Captain Jack Sparrow like that again, luv.”

“I...I...” I mumbled into my knees.

I shuddered again, as his strokes became stronger, firmer. The whole palm of his hand was stroking up and down my leg, almost reaching the knee, but suddenly turning back down again. It was like he was trying to reach my head that rested upon my knees, but stopping before he touched my forehead. Could he want to touch me? Surely not... However, that touch was starting to affect me and arousal blossomed in my stomach and drifted downwards... By all that was holy! He could see me...see my aroused reaction at his touch!

“Oh Jack!” I cried, “how I must disgust you!” I pushed his hand away, flinging myself into the furthest corner of my bunk. I pulled at the long nightshirt, trying to cover my betraying body. The tears started again, and I wished he’d leave. I couldn’t hurt him or nymonymore with my sinful thoughts.

“Darlin’ you could never disgust me,” Jack proclaimed, his voice holding that firm determination it carried when he gave orders. “You’re so beautiful, Will.” Fingers - two whole hands - were reaching out for me again, and they caught my arms. He didn’t hurt me, just held me still. As though he was looking closely at me. Suddenly, one hand moved from his hold on my arm, and rested against my cheek. “So beautiful,” he moaned.

“Beautiful?” My voice was but a whisper, but he must have heard my questions because he chuckled and his fingers began to stroke my cheek.

“Yes luv, yer like the sun. Will, you blind me.” I felt his breath against my mouth. My eyes could see nothing but a large shadow before me blocking the light. Oh! I realised that Jack was leaning over me, his face next to mine...his lips. They were like rose petals when they touched mine. Soft aneet.eet...yet, I couldn’t understand how a Pirate’s lips could be so soft. They were a little dry however, and tasted of rum. Jack’s lips brushed against mine a couple of times, leaving me gasping for breath. It was like I couldn’t take in enough air! “Will,” he moaned, and then pressed his lips fully on my lips. It was a shocked gasp that opemy mmy mouth to Jack’s questing tongue. I’d never been kissed like this before - never! A long, hot tongue invaded my mouth, touching my tongue, my teeth, trying to persuade my tongue to return his kiss. And return it I did. That was until I realised what I was doing. I was kissing Captain Jack Sparrow on the mouth...with tongue!! My tongue was in his mouth, his teeth scraping against it, leaving me with a taste of Rum and gold. And I wanted more! It was like I was trying to get inside of Jack. Trying to crawl, bodily, into the warm cavern of his mouth. My body arching forward, my chest pressing against Jack’s shoulder as he leaned across the bed towards me. My hands were reaching out...

“No!” I shoved Jack away, hearing a thump when he must have fallen to the floor. He yelled in surprise, calling my name.

I couldn’t stop. I wrapped a sheet around my body, trying to hide my full arousal, and ran. I didn’t know where I was running to, but I just had to get away. I pushed open the door, flung myself out onto the open deck and kept on running. I heard Jack following, still calling out my name.

“Will! Will!”

I ran until I hit the stairs leading to the fore of the ship, and beyond that was the ocean. I climbed on my hands and knees, until I reached the solid deck and ran again, heading for the figurehead and the deep waters beyond.

“Nooooooo!” A bellow split the air, and a body landed upon my back. I screamed, Jack’s whole weight crushing me as we fell onto the deck. I fought, bringing up my hands into fists, trying to wriggle around onto my back and fight Jack off me. How could he stop me? I kissed him! A man kissed him. I was more than a little confused and frightened. Never, not even when Barbossa blinded me did I feel the depth of confusion I felt at my current predicament.

“Oh me Darlin’ Will,” Jack sobbed, his arms holding me so tightly. “Don’t leave me!” He wept the soft words into my ear, and I went still.

Darling? He’d called me that before, but I’d never took much notice of it. Jack had such a strange way of talking and addressing people but you didn’t notice it after a while. I didn’t know what to think. I was twenty years old with no experience of sexuality or sex itself. There were chances, but I wasn’t very good at taking those chances...Elizabeth being a prime example.

“Me Darlin’, Will.” Strong arms went around me, my fists crushed into Jack’s chest. For a long time, all I could concentrate on was breathing; it was hard enough just to force breath into my lungs than do anything else.

“Tried to take a running leap again, did he?” I recognised the voice of First Mate, Mr Gibbs. Jack didn’t reply, but brushed his face against my hair. I gasped at the gentle touch, but before I could do anything more, strong arms were lifting me up. They weren’t Jack’s but Mbbs bbs and I was carried away, back to my Cabin. Jack didn’t follow us.

When Mr Gibbs settled me into my bunk, I heard him clink some glasses and a whiff of strong Rum filled my nose. I reached out slowly and my fingers found a glass before my face. My fingers brushed Mr Gibbs, and I noticed with surprise that I felt nothing of the arousal I did when Jack touched me. It was at least some relief that all men didn’t arouse me. Then again, Jack was special...a thought that frightened me terribly.

“There now, drink that up lad, do yer good.”

I swallowed the bitter Rum in one fowl swoop and gasped as the hot liquid burned my throat. I’ve never been one for alcohol. Elizabeth didn’t like drunkards...but why should I care about that now. I held out the glass, and Mr Gibbs refilled it. The second shot wasn’t half so bad.

“Whatcha’ trying to do, boy?” Mr Gibbs asked with a sigh, and I could hear him sit into the chair opposite my bed. Next to him would be the table and bottle of rum. I held my glass out and it was quickly refilled.

“What do you mean?” I mumbled in reply, knowing exactly what he was talking about.

“Well lad, yer either choose one or the other. Live or die. But at the moment yer killing Capt’ Sparrow with yer foolishness. He can’t take anymore of yer trying to...” He can’t to say the words.

Kill myself. I was trying to kill myself. To my surprise, I found that thought kind of painful. What would Jack do if I did? Would he be relieved, his burden gone? Or would he miss me?

“Oh he’d miss yer, lad. Just like he’d miss his heart.”

I didn’t know what I’d said out loud, but I couldn’t ask as Mr Gibbs rose to his feet and left, quietly closing the door behind him.

~*~*~*~

TBC