{Fic} May 24: Equally Damaged (PotC, AnaMaria, Will, Norrington)
Equally Damaged
By Clarity Scifiroots
Disclaimers apply! Title from “For the Damaged” Blonde Redhead
Fandom/Characters: AnaMaria, Will, Norrington
Rating: All
Summary: A brief interlude wherein Ana observes and James remembers.
Notes: Part of my post-DMC AU started last summer. Direct sequel to Try Not to Breathe. (Strange Fire also alluded to)
May!fic 24 of 31
---
AnaMaria stood inside the galley, silently watching the antics of Ragetti attempting to teach Pintel how to make a halfway decent meal out of their allotted rations for the day. At one of the two tables Gibbs leaned over a tankard of rum as he relayed some story to Marty, Cotton, and Elizabeth, all bent forward intently. To her chagrin she noted that Will sat alone at the other table.
Jack’s boy had been suspiciously quiet since setting sail a week ago. His outburst over Norrington that first day had been the only real spark of life she’d seen. He stalked the ship like a caged beast; the set of his shoulders tense and his jaw locked tight. The only time he seemed to calm was in the presence of Tia Dalma-something she could understand from firsthand experience. Whoever and whatever the woman was, she had a presence about her.
Her intent study of the young man allowed her to know the instant he made up his mind to leave. A muscle in his jaw jumped moments before he stood. His jerky motions caught no one else’s attention; everyone but Ana focused on other matters. Will glanced over his shoulder at Gibbs’ storytelling group. When she saw the flicker of pain and anger she knew he had been looking to Elizabeth.
He passed her without a word, barely acknowledging her at all.
“Will,” she said quietly as she ducked into the hall after him. He stopped but did not turn to face her. “She’ll get us there.” She wondered if she’d meant the Circe or Tia... no matter, it held true for both.
Will turned his head to gaze at her impassively. “I know.” His lips twitched for a moment as if searching for the words to continue. “I don’t think I’ve... ever felt this trapped,” he admitted. He looked away.
A minute later he continued down the hall to make his way to the deck. Ana watched him go with a shiver of apprehension raising the hair on her nape.
---
For the crew of eleven aboard the Circe, each day carried them farther away from the world of mankind and the laws of mortals. The distinction of night and day began to blur until the cycle of light and dark evolved into the exchange of twilight and midnight.
As the sky and sea blackened, James found grim amusement in the way most of the others hurried to finish above deck tasks and slip below into the bowels of the ship where lantern light didn’t eerily get sucked away by an unnatural night. For him, the midnight cycle eased the strain of his shoulders and the stabbing pain in his head and chest. The twilight hours made him recall all too clearly the precursors of the nightmarish hurricane that had doomed so many of his men less than five months ago. The violent storm and his own blind determination in pursuing Jack Sparrow had meant the sacrifice of more lives than he cared to count. Among the dead were Groves and Gillette-the men he had counted as his closest friends and confidants; the friends who had given up everything to follow him on a fool’s errand.
And here he was, still following Sparrow with no true sense of why. He remembered Groves’ laughter-filled musings about throwing a party for the pirate and asking to join his crew. Gillette would react in horror and indignant righteousness, speaking of shackles and the gallows for the outlaw. In those private moments, relaxed by drink and comforted by his friends’ presence, James recognized that he had no plans for the future when-and if-he ever caught up with Sparrow. Even now, months later, he didn’t know what he would do. He couldn’t avenge his friends’ deaths, their sacrifice could not be blamed on the pirate. He knew the fault lay with him, but no matter his recent drear mood he did not fall into the belief that sacrificing his own life would cure anything. Consequently he found himself at an impasse.
“Can you see anything?” Turner’s low voice came as a surprise. Despite their current truce there was a startling amount of hostility burning behind the blacksmith’s eyes.
James eventually replied, “No. It’s impossible to see anything in this darkness.”
Turner glanced at him sidelong in annoyance. He stepped closer to rail, fingers wrapping tightly over the edge, and leaned forward, staring determinedly into the water. “There’s something down there.” He hesitated. “Sometimes you can hear it.”
James rolled his eyes. Turner correctly interpreted his silence as disbelief.
“You might pay more attention,” Turner snapped, turning his attention from the sea to glare at James. He shook his head, a look of scorn on his face. “Damned if I know why you’re here. What do you care about other than yourself?” Turned stepped away from the rail and faced James with fists clenched tightly at his sides.
Aggravated, James said, “It might shock you, Mister Turner, that I am a man like any other. What you fail to realize is how truly naïve you are.”
He was surprised when Turner laughed, bitterness harshly distorting the tone. “I acknowledge I have areas of ignorance, Sir, but I hardly think that has anything to do with immaturity. I know the dark side of mankind, perhaps even better than you.” He gazed at James with tired eyes. “Why are you here? You got what you wanted.”
The question was one he couldn’t answer. Loathe to let Turner have the last word, James said, “You’ve no idea what I want.”
Turner tilted his head in acknowledgement. He said nothing more, turning on his heel and leaving James once again to his thoughts. In the silence James thought he heard a low keening cry. The sound sent shivers down his spine.
------
{fin interlude}
By Clarity Scifiroots
Disclaimers apply! Title from “For the Damaged” Blonde Redhead
Fandom/Characters: AnaMaria, Will, Norrington
Rating: All
Summary: A brief interlude wherein Ana observes and James remembers.
Notes: Part of my post-DMC AU started last summer. Direct sequel to Try Not to Breathe. (Strange Fire also alluded to)
May!fic 24 of 31
---
AnaMaria stood inside the galley, silently watching the antics of Ragetti attempting to teach Pintel how to make a halfway decent meal out of their allotted rations for the day. At one of the two tables Gibbs leaned over a tankard of rum as he relayed some story to Marty, Cotton, and Elizabeth, all bent forward intently. To her chagrin she noted that Will sat alone at the other table.
Jack’s boy had been suspiciously quiet since setting sail a week ago. His outburst over Norrington that first day had been the only real spark of life she’d seen. He stalked the ship like a caged beast; the set of his shoulders tense and his jaw locked tight. The only time he seemed to calm was in the presence of Tia Dalma-something she could understand from firsthand experience. Whoever and whatever the woman was, she had a presence about her.
Her intent study of the young man allowed her to know the instant he made up his mind to leave. A muscle in his jaw jumped moments before he stood. His jerky motions caught no one else’s attention; everyone but Ana focused on other matters. Will glanced over his shoulder at Gibbs’ storytelling group. When she saw the flicker of pain and anger she knew he had been looking to Elizabeth.
He passed her without a word, barely acknowledging her at all.
“Will,” she said quietly as she ducked into the hall after him. He stopped but did not turn to face her. “She’ll get us there.” She wondered if she’d meant the Circe or Tia... no matter, it held true for both.
Will turned his head to gaze at her impassively. “I know.” His lips twitched for a moment as if searching for the words to continue. “I don’t think I’ve... ever felt this trapped,” he admitted. He looked away.
A minute later he continued down the hall to make his way to the deck. Ana watched him go with a shiver of apprehension raising the hair on her nape.
---
For the crew of eleven aboard the Circe, each day carried them farther away from the world of mankind and the laws of mortals. The distinction of night and day began to blur until the cycle of light and dark evolved into the exchange of twilight and midnight.
As the sky and sea blackened, James found grim amusement in the way most of the others hurried to finish above deck tasks and slip below into the bowels of the ship where lantern light didn’t eerily get sucked away by an unnatural night. For him, the midnight cycle eased the strain of his shoulders and the stabbing pain in his head and chest. The twilight hours made him recall all too clearly the precursors of the nightmarish hurricane that had doomed so many of his men less than five months ago. The violent storm and his own blind determination in pursuing Jack Sparrow had meant the sacrifice of more lives than he cared to count. Among the dead were Groves and Gillette-the men he had counted as his closest friends and confidants; the friends who had given up everything to follow him on a fool’s errand.
And here he was, still following Sparrow with no true sense of why. He remembered Groves’ laughter-filled musings about throwing a party for the pirate and asking to join his crew. Gillette would react in horror and indignant righteousness, speaking of shackles and the gallows for the outlaw. In those private moments, relaxed by drink and comforted by his friends’ presence, James recognized that he had no plans for the future when-and if-he ever caught up with Sparrow. Even now, months later, he didn’t know what he would do. He couldn’t avenge his friends’ deaths, their sacrifice could not be blamed on the pirate. He knew the fault lay with him, but no matter his recent drear mood he did not fall into the belief that sacrificing his own life would cure anything. Consequently he found himself at an impasse.
“Can you see anything?” Turner’s low voice came as a surprise. Despite their current truce there was a startling amount of hostility burning behind the blacksmith’s eyes.
James eventually replied, “No. It’s impossible to see anything in this darkness.”
Turner glanced at him sidelong in annoyance. He stepped closer to rail, fingers wrapping tightly over the edge, and leaned forward, staring determinedly into the water. “There’s something down there.” He hesitated. “Sometimes you can hear it.”
James rolled his eyes. Turner correctly interpreted his silence as disbelief.
“You might pay more attention,” Turner snapped, turning his attention from the sea to glare at James. He shook his head, a look of scorn on his face. “Damned if I know why you’re here. What do you care about other than yourself?” Turned stepped away from the rail and faced James with fists clenched tightly at his sides.
Aggravated, James said, “It might shock you, Mister Turner, that I am a man like any other. What you fail to realize is how truly naïve you are.”
He was surprised when Turner laughed, bitterness harshly distorting the tone. “I acknowledge I have areas of ignorance, Sir, but I hardly think that has anything to do with immaturity. I know the dark side of mankind, perhaps even better than you.” He gazed at James with tired eyes. “Why are you here? You got what you wanted.”
The question was one he couldn’t answer. Loathe to let Turner have the last word, James said, “You’ve no idea what I want.”
Turner tilted his head in acknowledgement. He said nothing more, turning on his heel and leaving James once again to his thoughts. In the silence James thought he heard a low keening cry. The sound sent shivers down his spine.
------
{fin interlude}