{Fic} Ocean Soul 15/18 | Will/Jack
Ocean Soul
Part 15 of 18
By Clarity Scifiroots
Standard disclaimers apply. This AU plot rules parallel to the first movie but isn’t quite the same. By a fan, for fans.
Rating: Ranges from Teen to Adult/Mature.
Pairing: Jack/Will
Summary: An AU tale that weaves a rather bleak past for one Will Turner. When the young blacksmith apprentice stows away on the Interceptor to get away from abuse, he didn't expect it to be taken over by pirates led by the most famous (or is it infamous?) Jack Sparrow.
Warnings: Sexual harassment, abuse, and recovery from such
January 18, 2008
Fifteen - brand new!
How the bloody ‘ell-?
Barbossa’s arm held Will captive better than any iron could. “Really should’ve taught yer boy to shoot, Jack.”
“Ne’er came up,” he muttered, trying to wrap his brain around the situation.
“I bet not, wha’ with all ‘is distractions.” Barbossa drew the word out and moved the dagger just enough to make a small slice in Will’s skin. “What to do now, Jack? I do love to see ye flail about. Go ahead ‘n try - what do ye have t’ offer so’s I don’t off the whelp?”
Jack could hardly bear to take his eyes away from Will. The brunette had one arm pinned behind his back, trapped between his body and Barbossa’s. His free hand kept clenching and unclenching, sometimes catching the edge of the tall captain’s coat. Jack tried to run the chances of Will managing to slide away so he could- Hell. He’d used his pistol’s one bloody shot on a damn monkey.
Apparently reading his mind, Barbossa chuckled darkly and eyed the useless pistol still held in the air. “Put ‘er away. Kept that shot for ten years ‘n ye waste it? Not like you, Jack.” From his lips, Sparrow’s name sounded worse than filth and made said pirate’s gut clench.
Gritting his teeth against very unhelpful dialogue, Jack slowly squatted and set his pistol aside. As he went down he surreptitiously glanced for a discarded gun, something left from the earlier fight. Nothing. He stood up just as slowly and held his hands up.
“Alrigh’, mate. What’s on yer mind?”
Barbossa sneered; he pulled Will more firmly against him, forcing the young man to go up on his toes. “How much is ‘e worth?”
Jack shrugged and affected nonchalance. “Who’s to say he’s worth anythin’?”
“Tell me,” Barbossa said, voice like the slipperiest silk, “tha’ ‘e’s not important t’ ye, Jack.” He shifted the dagger and pressed it threateningly at the bottom of Will’s ear.
With a struggle Jack kept his expression in check. “Worth more to me lady-sailor. She’s more’n a might prickly when ‘er lad’s messed with.”
“Really.” Barbossa traced the dagger across Will’s jaw with a pressure just short of drawing blood. “Tha’s a poor threat. An’ ye’re lyin’.” In a sharp movement the blade opened a deep cut at the chin that blossomed in a flower of red before trailing down Will’s pale neck. Jack swallowed hard and fought the urge to charge.
“Ye’re not even tryin’. Might want t’ fix tha’ ‘fore I decide t’ cut off somethin’ important.” The dagger moved up to rest against Will’s nose. “Think fast, Jack.”
-----
The man behind him reeked of brine and decay; the putrid breath befitted one of the undead. Will kept his eyes on Jack even though his lover had broken away from his gaze some time ago. He focused on Jack to keep himself from thinking too hard about the blade digging into his skin, particularly the vulnerable flesh of his throat.
Barbossa had locked them in to something of a stalemate- Will couldn’t imagine what Jack had to offer that his former first mate would accept. By now the Interceptor’s crew surely had won and secured the Pearl. If Jack and Will didn’t return soon, AnaMaria would come after them. Any interference and Barbossa probably wouldn’t care to keep Will around, bargaining chip or no. And he couldn’t be killed without again depositing coin and blood into the cursed chest. An idea tickled at the back of his mind at that thought but he couldn’t grasp it quite yet.
The cut on his chin stung for a few moments and then throbbed in time with the blood pounding in his ears. Will eased his hand back a little further, his fist closing around what felt like Barbossa’s tunic... He couldn’t grasp enough cloth to effectively tug the man off-balance, and honestly he didn’t know what else he could try.
Jack, please, he thought desperately. Give me something to work with.
At that moment Jack met his stare and something about the shuttered expression made an awful hole in Will’s gut.
“What say you,” Jack began, eyes slipping away from Will’s face, “join us in seein’ what’s ‘appened out there. The Interceptor’s a righ’ winner, fastest, they say, ‘n a good disguise for slippin’ by the king’s navy. I’m sure you won’t miss some of yer crew?”
“Wha’ remains of my crew ‘n yer second choice ship?” Barbossa snorted, sending a rush of rotting breath against the side of Will’s face. “An’ I’m t’ trust ye not t’ sink us soon as ye can?”
Jack spread his hands wide, face a mask of innocence. “We’re still bargainin’, ay?”
Barbossa ran the dagger down Will’s cheek, back to his throat where with just enough pressure he could abruptly end the young man’s life. When he next spoke, the voice went directly into Will’s ear. “Yer Capt’n sees fit t’ leave ye in my care. What say ye, whelp?” To Jack - “Ye’ll see my men t’ the ship ‘n stay yer distance. May be with some waves ‘tween us I’ll see fit t’ throw back yer boy. Arguments, Jack?”
Will swallowed the sick feeling that rose up as Jack tilted his head pensively. The dagger’s blade slid along his skin with deadly promise.
“I get me ship back, you get a lovely boat - I mean, ship. You, yer crew; me, my crew. Sails up, ship ou’-Then send poor Ana back ‘er lad in’a dinghy at noon. Accord?” Jack stuck out his hand. Barbossa didn’t move. “I’d like to shake on it, mate.”
“Ye won’t ge’ an openin’, Jack. But we’ve an accord, providin’ ye don’t try anythin’ foolish.”
Jack eased forward and sidled close, hand dancing out of Will’s sight; Barbossa’s grip on the dagger tightened. What’re you doing, Jack? A moment later, Will felt a familiar embossed coin slip into his palm.
-----
“’ands off me,” Barbossa snapped. Jack, hands and all, danced away, expression too amused to be apologetic.
“Righ’, no huggin’ or comradely slap, either. Makes it ‘ard to trust you, mate.” Jack pursed his lips and strolled away, keenly aware that Barbossa had turned to keep him in sight. Will had one piece of the puzzle, now the real trick would be to gain the second and get both to fit...
Jack kept walking, playing up his act of thinking, moving further around the piles of treasure - past the bloodstained gold and farther-
“Superstitious, Jack?” Barbossa sneered. Jack turned his head and noted that the dagger had moved away from immediate threat.
“Can you blame me? Wha’ with cursed gold ‘n all.” He turned around fully and beckoned, “C’mon, Hector, give me ‘and a shake ‘n we’re set.”
Barbossa gave a theatric roll of his eyes. He shoved Will away before striding forward to Jack’s outstretched hand. Jack kept his gaze on his enemy as they locked hands; to give Will more time he clutched Barbossa’s forearm with his other hand and reiterated the rules of the accord in his lengthy, talk-you-in-circles way.
-----
As soon as he’d started to fall, Will shifted himself so that he could roll naturally to the handful of stained coins. Still clutching the medallion, he scooped up a few of the blood-marked coins. As fast and as subtly as he could, Will climbed the golden pile back to the Aztec chest. Using his momentum, he shoved hard at one edge and thanked whatever gods were listening that a large enough space opened to drop the coins in. Just in time, he slid back down the mound so that when Barbossa turned, he looked to be scrambling for an escape.
“Fool boy.” Barbossa kicked Will in the ribs. “Up, now ‘n behave.” He hauled the young man up and then glared at Jack. “Ye’re included in tha’.”
Jack scratched at his beard. “Nothin’ to do wit’ it, mate. ‘Fraid he’s a spitfire like ‘is Ana.”
Barbossa gave Will a good shake before motioning Jack ahead of them. “I promise yer Ana she won’t like th’ whelp’s condition if ye don’t keep t’ our agreement.”
“Understood,” Jack cheerfully agreed.
He started whistling and Barbossa cursed under his breath. Will kept his head down and breathed a sigh of relief.
-----
“You...you son of a bitch!” AnaMaria hissed, slapping her captain across the face with all her strength. “’Ow could yeh? Barbossa’s never gonna hand ‘im back!” She shrugged off Gibbs’ half-hearted attempt to pull her back. Jack frowned as he rubbed his stinging cheek.
“Blimey, luv, couldda bit me tongue.” He wisely stepped back as she threatened him silently with a raised fist. This time she’d knock his teeth out!
“Wait, girl,” Gibbs said, “thar’s always a plan.”
Jack nodded in satisfaction and went to the wheel of his beloved Pearl. “Thank you, Mister Gibbs. In a moment, I’m goin’ to do the unthinkable and give you the ‘elm, darlin’.” He nodded solicitously at Ana. “An’ I’ll be watchin’ our ne’er-do-well friend ‘cross the way. Gibbs, I want to be ready to fire - but ge’ it done quiet-like, savvy?”
“Aye, aye, Cap’n,” Gibbs readily agreed.
“An’ when do yeh think it’s okay to fire with Will o’er there?” AnaMaria demanded, not trusting whatever half-cocked plan was stewing in Jack’s mind.
“Opportune moment, luv. Now ‘andle me Pearl gentle as a mum with ‘er babe. Poor girl’ll need my care soon’s we take care of ‘er false capt’n.”
Grudgingly, Ana took the helm and watched Gibbs descend to the main deck and casually make his way through the pirates milling about uncertainly. She kept a sharp eye on Jack, who’d pulled out his spyglass and approached the rail. His eyes narrowed against the sun’s earliest beams then turned the glass toward the Interceptor a good two ship-lengths away from starboard.
“If ‘e comes back lookin’ worse’n ‘e turned up, I’m skinnin’ yer hide, Jack Sparrow.”
Jack muttered, “Maybe I’d let you, luv.”
Ana snorted and felt some of her tension ease. Even though he’d gone for the Pearl first, he hadn’t given up on the boy. A damn good thing, that, since she’d have left him to Barbossa’s mercy. Still, Jack’s plans had better pan out.
-----
TBC
-----
Part 15 of 18
By Clarity Scifiroots
Standard disclaimers apply. This AU plot rules parallel to the first movie but isn’t quite the same. By a fan, for fans.
Rating: Ranges from Teen to Adult/Mature.
Pairing: Jack/Will
Summary: An AU tale that weaves a rather bleak past for one Will Turner. When the young blacksmith apprentice stows away on the Interceptor to get away from abuse, he didn't expect it to be taken over by pirates led by the most famous (or is it infamous?) Jack Sparrow.
Warnings: Sexual harassment, abuse, and recovery from such
January 18, 2008
Fifteen - brand new!
How the bloody ‘ell-?
Barbossa’s arm held Will captive better than any iron could. “Really should’ve taught yer boy to shoot, Jack.”
“Ne’er came up,” he muttered, trying to wrap his brain around the situation.
“I bet not, wha’ with all ‘is distractions.” Barbossa drew the word out and moved the dagger just enough to make a small slice in Will’s skin. “What to do now, Jack? I do love to see ye flail about. Go ahead ‘n try - what do ye have t’ offer so’s I don’t off the whelp?”
Jack could hardly bear to take his eyes away from Will. The brunette had one arm pinned behind his back, trapped between his body and Barbossa’s. His free hand kept clenching and unclenching, sometimes catching the edge of the tall captain’s coat. Jack tried to run the chances of Will managing to slide away so he could- Hell. He’d used his pistol’s one bloody shot on a damn monkey.
Apparently reading his mind, Barbossa chuckled darkly and eyed the useless pistol still held in the air. “Put ‘er away. Kept that shot for ten years ‘n ye waste it? Not like you, Jack.” From his lips, Sparrow’s name sounded worse than filth and made said pirate’s gut clench.
Gritting his teeth against very unhelpful dialogue, Jack slowly squatted and set his pistol aside. As he went down he surreptitiously glanced for a discarded gun, something left from the earlier fight. Nothing. He stood up just as slowly and held his hands up.
“Alrigh’, mate. What’s on yer mind?”
Barbossa sneered; he pulled Will more firmly against him, forcing the young man to go up on his toes. “How much is ‘e worth?”
Jack shrugged and affected nonchalance. “Who’s to say he’s worth anythin’?”
“Tell me,” Barbossa said, voice like the slipperiest silk, “tha’ ‘e’s not important t’ ye, Jack.” He shifted the dagger and pressed it threateningly at the bottom of Will’s ear.
With a struggle Jack kept his expression in check. “Worth more to me lady-sailor. She’s more’n a might prickly when ‘er lad’s messed with.”
“Really.” Barbossa traced the dagger across Will’s jaw with a pressure just short of drawing blood. “Tha’s a poor threat. An’ ye’re lyin’.” In a sharp movement the blade opened a deep cut at the chin that blossomed in a flower of red before trailing down Will’s pale neck. Jack swallowed hard and fought the urge to charge.
“Ye’re not even tryin’. Might want t’ fix tha’ ‘fore I decide t’ cut off somethin’ important.” The dagger moved up to rest against Will’s nose. “Think fast, Jack.”
-----
The man behind him reeked of brine and decay; the putrid breath befitted one of the undead. Will kept his eyes on Jack even though his lover had broken away from his gaze some time ago. He focused on Jack to keep himself from thinking too hard about the blade digging into his skin, particularly the vulnerable flesh of his throat.
Barbossa had locked them in to something of a stalemate- Will couldn’t imagine what Jack had to offer that his former first mate would accept. By now the Interceptor’s crew surely had won and secured the Pearl. If Jack and Will didn’t return soon, AnaMaria would come after them. Any interference and Barbossa probably wouldn’t care to keep Will around, bargaining chip or no. And he couldn’t be killed without again depositing coin and blood into the cursed chest. An idea tickled at the back of his mind at that thought but he couldn’t grasp it quite yet.
The cut on his chin stung for a few moments and then throbbed in time with the blood pounding in his ears. Will eased his hand back a little further, his fist closing around what felt like Barbossa’s tunic... He couldn’t grasp enough cloth to effectively tug the man off-balance, and honestly he didn’t know what else he could try.
Jack, please, he thought desperately. Give me something to work with.
At that moment Jack met his stare and something about the shuttered expression made an awful hole in Will’s gut.
“What say you,” Jack began, eyes slipping away from Will’s face, “join us in seein’ what’s ‘appened out there. The Interceptor’s a righ’ winner, fastest, they say, ‘n a good disguise for slippin’ by the king’s navy. I’m sure you won’t miss some of yer crew?”
“Wha’ remains of my crew ‘n yer second choice ship?” Barbossa snorted, sending a rush of rotting breath against the side of Will’s face. “An’ I’m t’ trust ye not t’ sink us soon as ye can?”
Jack spread his hands wide, face a mask of innocence. “We’re still bargainin’, ay?”
Barbossa ran the dagger down Will’s cheek, back to his throat where with just enough pressure he could abruptly end the young man’s life. When he next spoke, the voice went directly into Will’s ear. “Yer Capt’n sees fit t’ leave ye in my care. What say ye, whelp?” To Jack - “Ye’ll see my men t’ the ship ‘n stay yer distance. May be with some waves ‘tween us I’ll see fit t’ throw back yer boy. Arguments, Jack?”
Will swallowed the sick feeling that rose up as Jack tilted his head pensively. The dagger’s blade slid along his skin with deadly promise.
“I get me ship back, you get a lovely boat - I mean, ship. You, yer crew; me, my crew. Sails up, ship ou’-Then send poor Ana back ‘er lad in’a dinghy at noon. Accord?” Jack stuck out his hand. Barbossa didn’t move. “I’d like to shake on it, mate.”
“Ye won’t ge’ an openin’, Jack. But we’ve an accord, providin’ ye don’t try anythin’ foolish.”
Jack eased forward and sidled close, hand dancing out of Will’s sight; Barbossa’s grip on the dagger tightened. What’re you doing, Jack? A moment later, Will felt a familiar embossed coin slip into his palm.
-----
“’ands off me,” Barbossa snapped. Jack, hands and all, danced away, expression too amused to be apologetic.
“Righ’, no huggin’ or comradely slap, either. Makes it ‘ard to trust you, mate.” Jack pursed his lips and strolled away, keenly aware that Barbossa had turned to keep him in sight. Will had one piece of the puzzle, now the real trick would be to gain the second and get both to fit...
Jack kept walking, playing up his act of thinking, moving further around the piles of treasure - past the bloodstained gold and farther-
“Superstitious, Jack?” Barbossa sneered. Jack turned his head and noted that the dagger had moved away from immediate threat.
“Can you blame me? Wha’ with cursed gold ‘n all.” He turned around fully and beckoned, “C’mon, Hector, give me ‘and a shake ‘n we’re set.”
Barbossa gave a theatric roll of his eyes. He shoved Will away before striding forward to Jack’s outstretched hand. Jack kept his gaze on his enemy as they locked hands; to give Will more time he clutched Barbossa’s forearm with his other hand and reiterated the rules of the accord in his lengthy, talk-you-in-circles way.
-----
As soon as he’d started to fall, Will shifted himself so that he could roll naturally to the handful of stained coins. Still clutching the medallion, he scooped up a few of the blood-marked coins. As fast and as subtly as he could, Will climbed the golden pile back to the Aztec chest. Using his momentum, he shoved hard at one edge and thanked whatever gods were listening that a large enough space opened to drop the coins in. Just in time, he slid back down the mound so that when Barbossa turned, he looked to be scrambling for an escape.
“Fool boy.” Barbossa kicked Will in the ribs. “Up, now ‘n behave.” He hauled the young man up and then glared at Jack. “Ye’re included in tha’.”
Jack scratched at his beard. “Nothin’ to do wit’ it, mate. ‘Fraid he’s a spitfire like ‘is Ana.”
Barbossa gave Will a good shake before motioning Jack ahead of them. “I promise yer Ana she won’t like th’ whelp’s condition if ye don’t keep t’ our agreement.”
“Understood,” Jack cheerfully agreed.
He started whistling and Barbossa cursed under his breath. Will kept his head down and breathed a sigh of relief.
-----
“You...you son of a bitch!” AnaMaria hissed, slapping her captain across the face with all her strength. “’Ow could yeh? Barbossa’s never gonna hand ‘im back!” She shrugged off Gibbs’ half-hearted attempt to pull her back. Jack frowned as he rubbed his stinging cheek.
“Blimey, luv, couldda bit me tongue.” He wisely stepped back as she threatened him silently with a raised fist. This time she’d knock his teeth out!
“Wait, girl,” Gibbs said, “thar’s always a plan.”
Jack nodded in satisfaction and went to the wheel of his beloved Pearl. “Thank you, Mister Gibbs. In a moment, I’m goin’ to do the unthinkable and give you the ‘elm, darlin’.” He nodded solicitously at Ana. “An’ I’ll be watchin’ our ne’er-do-well friend ‘cross the way. Gibbs, I want to be ready to fire - but ge’ it done quiet-like, savvy?”
“Aye, aye, Cap’n,” Gibbs readily agreed.
“An’ when do yeh think it’s okay to fire with Will o’er there?” AnaMaria demanded, not trusting whatever half-cocked plan was stewing in Jack’s mind.
“Opportune moment, luv. Now ‘andle me Pearl gentle as a mum with ‘er babe. Poor girl’ll need my care soon’s we take care of ‘er false capt’n.”
Grudgingly, Ana took the helm and watched Gibbs descend to the main deck and casually make his way through the pirates milling about uncertainly. She kept a sharp eye on Jack, who’d pulled out his spyglass and approached the rail. His eyes narrowed against the sun’s earliest beams then turned the glass toward the Interceptor a good two ship-lengths away from starboard.
“If ‘e comes back lookin’ worse’n ‘e turned up, I’m skinnin’ yer hide, Jack Sparrow.”
Jack muttered, “Maybe I’d let you, luv.”
Ana snorted and felt some of her tension ease. Even though he’d gone for the Pearl first, he hadn’t given up on the boy. A damn good thing, that, since she’d have left him to Barbossa’s mercy. Still, Jack’s plans had better pan out.
-----
TBC
-----