The Weakness in Me

Archived: ask if you want it
Pairings: M/M Jack/Will M/F Will/Elizabeth
Feedback: review and commentary greatly appreciated—I have no other way to pay the muses for their hard work.
Characters: Jack, Will, Elizabeth
Beta’s: No one, currently. Alas.
Author Notes: Inspiration for this story came from Joan Armatrading's song "The Weakness In Me". A great song. Look it up and listen some. That's where title and chapter titles are coming from.
Disclaimer: Title of story and chapter headings are from Joan Armatrading's song "The Weakness In Me". I do not own in. Nor do I own the characters in this fic. They belong to Disney.
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The Weakness in Me

Chp. 1: Right from the start

William Turner considered himself a lucky man as he looked at his wife. She was as beautiful as he remembered her throughout his childhood and teenaged years, if not more so. And now, Elizabeth Swann, daughter of the governor… was his wife. She pushed her long, tawny hair over her shoulder, unaware of the fact that he was still in their bedroom, watching her morning rituals. She made her way to the small basin that rested on its pedestal in one corner of the room, bending to wash her face. Her nightgown cling to the body that Will had come to know as well as his own over the three months that they had been married. She turned around, wiping her face with a washcloth and startled at the sight of him.

“Goodness, Will… I didn’t know you were there.”

“Well, then, I accomplished what I wanted,” Will said as he stood and took her into his arms, tilting her chin up for a kiss, “to watch my beautiful wife… uninterrupted.”

“You’re ever the romantic,” Elizabeth smiled, gladly leaning into the warmth his body offered, tucking her head under his chin. Will closed his eyes, smiling to himself as he inhaled the scent of her hair.

The rest of the morning passed in good spirits as they prepared to go out for the day. Will had to go to the blacksmith’s shop that he had purchased from Brown and make sure that work was getting done. He was unsure of the new apprentice he had decided to take on… and unsure of Brown, who’s sole duty seemed to be to sit in the corner and check the quality of Port Royale’s cheapest spirits. Elizabeth would be attending a party at her father’s home in honor of the marriage of one of her distant cousins that Will hadn’t bothered to learn anymore about.

The air of Port Royal was crisp, carrying with it the tang of the sea that was always present in every aspect of life. Even now, as he walked through the streets, he could hear the distant roar of the sea fighting against the docked boats, though he couldn’t even see the waves between the houses. The coolness that hung in the air was pleasant enough in contrast to the hot air that roiled out of the smithy. The first thing that Will saw upon entering the shop was the scrawny boy he had hired, working hard to start the fires. The donkey was chewing away at his grain, powerful jaws working to crush the thick fibers. Will walked over to the beast and scratched between its ears briefly before checking over the boy’s work.

“Very good, Jacob… you’re learning fast enough,” he said as he made some minor corrections to the set up of the shop. The boy regarded him nervously, obviously trying to remember the little actions and set ups that Will preferred for work. Watching him, Will briefly thought about how the boy was more suited to lighter tasks—perhaps cobbeling—than being a black smith. Help was help, however unsuited it may appear at first… and he was not one to turn down scrawny looking children if they sought to be his apprentice. He himself hadn’t seemed to fit the bill for being a blacksmith… and now his swords were regarded as the finest in the English colonies.

“Mr. Turner, sir, a man stopped by with this letter for you,” Jacob spoke up, retrieving the letter from where he had set it on one of the window sills, “he had an ill look to him, sir, and I turned him away when he asked to wait.”

Will took the letter, wondering who it could be from. He didn’t recognize the neat handwriting that marked the envelope, and the seal was plain without any distinguishable mark to tell where it had come from. He cracked the seal and pulled a piece of worn, sea burnt paper from the envelope.

‘William

Doubtless you will not remember your old captain. I have stopped in Port Royal and should like to see the happily married couple, should they have time for such a meeting. Come to the Pearl and I’ll hear word of it.

Yours

Capn. Jack Sparrow’

Will stared at the piece of paper, biting his lip. He hadn’t known that the pirate could write his own name, much less such a coherent letter. Perhaps it was an unfair misconception to assume that Jack was utterly uneducated… or carried his bumbling manner of speech on to paper. He tucked the piece back into its envelope, feeling mildly anxious about the idea of seeing the pirate. They hadn’t parted on bad terms in the least… and it was because of that strange escape that Will had been able to tell Elizabeth how he felt about her. She had chosen to come to his side instead of staying with Norrington. He supposed that he owed it to the pirate to give him a visit and update him on the happenings of the Turner household… but there was that anxiety.

He set the letter aside and turned to Jacob, ready to cast the thought of Captain Jack Sparrow from his mind… and turn to the art of sword making, which had so often eased his thoughts in the past.

*~*

The Interceptor rocked with the swells that rose to meet her, making the rope that Will had tried to coil slide across the deck towards the scuppers. Will ran to grab it before it could escape, almost throwing himself over the side as the ship pitched… a hand on his shoulder kept him aboard. He turned and looked at Jack who said nothing, only handed him a bottle of liquor.

“It’s the only thing they have on this bloody ship,” the pirate remarked and moved away, seemingly unaffected by the movement of the ship on the unsteady sea, as if this was exactly where he belonged. Will looked at the liquor in his hand…

Will shook the memory from himself as he moved down the dock towards the Black Pearl. With her sails furled and tied quietly in place, she didn’t look half as threatening as Will recalled. The figurehead seemed to look towards heaven, the sparrow she held in her hand about to fly in the direction her eyes were looking.

Will highly doubted Jack’s chances of flying into heaven, no matter how many people tried to cast him in that direction. He continued on his way, setting foot on the plank. He was immediately hailed by Cotton… or rather, the man’s parrot.

“Avast! Avast! Ahoy?”

“It’s me, Will Turner… Jack sent for me.”

“Handsomely, me lad, handsomely!” the parrot danced along the side of the ship, bobbing its head. Will felt rather ridiculous to be having a conversation with a parrot… but it was just the kind of lunacy that Jack would have enjoyed. He tried to think of what the parrot meant by that cryptic phrase, not daring to actually board the ship until he knew.

“That means quickly,” Jack spoke from somewhere above him, unseen. Will searched for him, finally pin pointing the familiar shape leaning against the mast. He quickly made to board the ship, walking over to Jack.

“You wanted me to come find you?”

”Aye. How are you, boy? How is Mrs. William Turner?” there was a tone in Jack’s voice that Will couldn’t really decipher. He suddenly wasn’t sure how he should answer, much less why he was standing there on the ship. He wanted to go home and wait for Elizabeth.

“Elizabeth is well… we were wed three months ago. We bought the smithy with the money she brought in dowry… and her father gave us a small house of our own. It’s much nicer than anything I’ve ever lived in,” Will felt like a simpleton as he spoke, or some peasant. He pushed the feeling away and continued, “I’ve taken on an apprentice.”

“She pregnant yet?”

”What? Oh, no… no, not yet.”

Jack stepped away from the shadows that he had been leaning in. He looked much the same as Will remembered, his hat crooked slightly to one side as if it had been put on with a relative amount of haste. There was a new bangle entangled within the matted mass of braids and loose hair that rested against Jack’s shoulder. His lips twisted into a cruel smile that Will knew he should be familiar with and accept. It was Jack’s way to poke at tender spots… it was a distraction that he often employed in a fight, and in his personal life.

“Something wrong with you, William?”

“I’m not a eunuch if that’s what you’re implying, and you know that. I’m tired of that joke, Jack. I… I don’t know why I’m here.”

“Few do. And aye, I know full well you’re not a eunuch… but it does make you squirm.”

Will felt his cheeks flush and took a step back from the pirate. He felt like turning around and leaving right there, but there was something about Jack that kept him there… and allowed him to take the little abuses. The pirate tilted his head back, looking at Will out of the corner of his eye.

“Why do you come here, Jack? There’s nothing in Port Royal you need. You can’t risk anything here because of Norrington. Why are you here?” the flush in Will’s cheeks that had previously been due to embarrassment was rising to anger. Why was the pirate here? To remind him, three months after he had married to woman he loved, that he had fallen for Jack’s charms? To remind him that he’d been unfaithful to Elizabeth? Was he seeking to destroy the relationship between them? …..Did he want him still?

Jack’s laughter pulled him out of his thoughts. The pirate was smiling at him, “I’m here for you, lad.”

“I can’t, Jack. Elizabeth loves me. It would break her heart.”

Jack closed the space between them, standing far too close as was his habit. Will could smell the bitter salt scent of the sea, rum, and a peculiar spice that he could not identify as Jack leaned in close, looking up at him. His hands fluttered for an instant before cupping Will’s face.

“William. You are a blacksmith and before that, an orphan who washed up into her hands because a bunch of bloody pirates blew up the merchant ship you were stowing away on. You’re not even from good blood… by her consideration. She’s goin’ to tire of you, lad, and the ridicule she receives for marrying so beneath her. She’ll leave you, lad.”

Will pulled his face away from Jack’s hands, frowning at the pirate. What was this? Some half-assed attempt to get Will to leave Elizabeth by making him feel like shit about his station in life compared this wife?

“You can’t do this, Jack. I’m not playing,” Will turned then, and started down the plank towards the dock. Jack followed halfway.

“Will, come back.”

“No, I’m not coming back… and you need to leave. I don’t want to see you again. And don’t you ever mentioned what happened to me again, even through implication. I was drunk, Jack, and that just… wasn’t right.”

Will was aware of the pirate staring at his back as he stormed down the dock and away from the Black Pearl. Jack could stare all he wanted, he had made him angry.

He was shaking. He had been hoping for something else when he went to see Jack… why was it that when hopes were pushed back for what seemed right, anger always replaced that hope?

When he knew Jack couldn’t see him anymore, he stopped and looked over his shoulder at the hulking shape of the ship in the distance. He could see some movement, and assumed it was Jack…

…They were the only ones on the Interceptor, and that was a frightening thing at night. Jack stayed near the helm, leaving Will to peer into the darkness in search of obstacles. Jack had assured him that this area was generally clear as a rule, but Will didn’t trust his word. He didn’t want to end up on the bottom of the ocean… and leave Elizabeth to her fate.

He looked at Jack, watching the pirate lift the bottle of spirits to his lips and take a deep drink. The man was a drunk, and it irritated Will that he was in control of what was going on. His life, and the life of Elizabeth… were in the hands of this drunk, fry brained pirate.

Hours passed, and Will found his disapproval of Jack’s drinking slipping away from him. The fact that he was drinking from the same bottle helped the decision. Sitting on the deck, he was quickly learning the lessons of boredom that sailors often fought to cope with. Drinking was one way, especially when the only other man aboard was partaking in that activity. Jack locked the helm and joined him, sitting on the wooden planks at his side. There was something about the man that made Will want to know more… but Jack would never yield to his questions, only giving him cryptic answers that couldn’t be real.

They leaned against each other, and Jack’s arm went around his shoulders, resting the cold bottom of the liquor bottle against Will’s chest. Will reached for the bottle and took it out of Jack’s hand, raising it to his lips. The now idle hand that hung against his chest sought around until it found Will’s nipple, made hard by the previous contact of the cold bottle. He pinched through the fabric, rolling the nipple between his forefinger and thumb.

“Jack…”

He was silenced by lips that tasted like the liquor they were drinking, and sea salt. Jack’s lips were rough but warm, pressing against Will’s. Will stiffened, trying to process what was happening through his drink fog mind… then slowly, he relaxed and returned the kiss. He was greeted by warmth, and the taste of stale alcohol as Jack forced his way into his mouth, exploring with his tongue. Will was vaguely aware of the bottle rolling away across the deck as Jack turned him, pressing him back so that he was laying on the ship’s deck. Will felt helpless to the pirate’s caresses, laying back, not knowing how to react when he felt cold fingertips touch the bare skin of his chest… then proceed to unbutton his shirt. He lay still, looking up at the stars as Jack’s lips found his collar bone… then the nipple he had been teasing with his touch only moments before. He closed his eyes at the sensation, reaching to tangle his hands in Jack’s hair…

Will remembered the afterglow of what they had done on the deck of that ship… the chill of laying on the deck, naked and exposed to the sea air. He remembered the feeling of Jack’s head laying against his stomach… the odd mix of cold metal, rough hair, and warm skin. He remembered Jack’s arm wrapped around his waist… his own hands occupied with stroking the pirate’s back and chest. He sat down while he thought about the pirate mumbling against his stomach…and how he was unable to determine exactly what was being said to him. The experience had left Will wanting to push it from his mind and claim it never happened… because he couldn’t let it happen again, no matter how much he wanted to feel Jack’s lips on his body again. He couldn’t let that happen again. He couldn’t let Jack’s presence in Port Royal disrupt his marriage.

If Elizabeth found out… she’d be crushed. Will sighed, standing outside the gate to his home. He wanted to go inside, take Elizabeth in his arms and rid himself of the frustration that had arisen in him as he walked back from the port. Part of him, though, wanted to turn around and go back to Jack.