(Untitled)
He's up early, as he always is, getting ready for another day's work on the Pearl. And he's trying not to think about how close the repairs are to complete, and what happens when it's all done.
He's about ten seconds from leaving when the knock comes at the door.
He's about ten seconds from leaving when the knock comes at the door.
Not unless he got distracted along the way, of course, but Jack's fairly certain that's not the case -- the lad's far too conscientious about what he sees as his duty to do otherwise.
When the fickle "Scottish" weather went from fair to foul, Jack seized the opportune moment and dismissed his helpful crew for the day. He'd waited a little longer, but in the end it's not long after the last of them have left that Jack himself comes striding over the shore and into the bar, up the stairs and down the hallway towards room 97.
"We'll just see about all this," he mutters, as he heads for Norrington's room, hands half-outstretched for balance as he rounds the corner into the hallway. "'S not right-- it's decidedly odd--"
Swaying, Jack jerks to a halt, staring at the fallen figure of Henry Wellard.
"Bugger."
Swearing under his breath, Jack Sparrow leaps forward and drops to one knee beside the younger man.
"Lad, can you hear me?"
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There is a surprised, confused look given to Jack.
"Sir? Did I fall?"
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He's already looking around as he speaks, and as he turns his head Jack sees the open door and Norrington lying on the floor of his room, amid glittering shards of shattered glass. The scent of alcohol and blood hangs heavy in the air.
"Lie still a moment, son." Jack puts one hand on his shoulder, reinforcing his order. "Don't try to get up just yet. Let me have a look 'round."
Jack palms the dirk as he stands, and stuffs it inside his leather vest as he turns away from Wellard and crosses the floor to Norrington.
"Damnation." He drops to a crouch beside the other man, looking in alarm at the spreading crimson stain. "What the hell happened to you, Jim ( ... )
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And that turns out to not be a good idea. With a wince, he closes his eyes, hands to his head.
"Stumbled over what?" He mutters. "Where are we?"
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He leaves Norrington on the floor and dashes to the bed, pulling a sheet from it and then returning quickly. Jack crouches down once more, tearing the sheet into strips as he mutters,
"Hang on, mate. Don't even think about doing anything else, d'you hear me? Hang on, we'll get you some more better help as soon as you're patched up a bit."
As he talks he's pulling a wide strip around Norrington's body. Jack layers a folded bundle from the torn sheet over the slash and presses down, then ties it firmly in place with more torn pieces.
"That should hold you for a few minutes until I can get a sawbones up here. Dammit, man--"
Beaded braids clatter as Jack throws a quick look around the room, then stands and hurries back to Wellard.
"Can you stand, son? We've got to get you out of here."
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Even then, the hallway seems to still be swaying- but at least with his head hurting this much, the effects could not be from alcohol. Or laudanum.
Wellard takes a deep breath, as they both start down the hallway. "I fell, you said? Did I? I don't recall- what happened?"
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It's just Wellard's luck that Mary's hunting Martha, today. And, therefore, heading along the hallway in the opposite direction at exactly the right time to come face to face with Wellard and Jack, hobbling towards the stairs.
Her eyes grow wide in her thin face, and her glare at Jack is sharp and accusing.
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"Ah. Miss Lennox. Just the lass I was hoping to see."
Black eyes are glittering with something near-manic, but he sounds just as he always does.
"Don't suppose you know of any doctors around this bar, now do you?"
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Somehow, the simple syllable comes out sounding like an accusation of the most tremendously horrible deeds that Mary can imagine.
"Good doctors, even."
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"I just fell. I think? That's what Jack said-" He frowns, closing his eyes and reaching up to gingerly touch the back of his head.
"I'm alright."
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To Mary, he adds,
"Good. Run and find one, savvy? Run fast. Bring him to room ninety-seven, down that way. Someone else involved in the accident's still down there and needs help -- and that right sharp, now."
He gestures with one hand, pointing back over his head and down the corridor, then pins her with a glittering gaze.
"And lass? Might be best if you didn't go mentioning that you saw the lad here at all, savvy? The sawbones might want to go looking him over, and there's no need for that sort of poking and prodding. No need at all."
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"Yes there is!" she says, in the piercing, emphatic voice of a thoroughly furious (and slightly frightened) little girl.
"He is not well. He ought to see a doctor - he cannot even walk!"
It is quite clear that Mary could care less about whoever is in room 97 - at least, until she's actually told he's dying.
"You are only afraid - likely you only do not want to get caught," she adds, scornfully.
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"He can walk just fine-- just a bit dizzy. It's Norrington what needs the doctor, now, before he gets any worse."
"And as for getting caught--" There's no humor at all in Jack's face or voice. "Not worried about that, luv. Pirate, savvy?"
"Now. Either you step to it or I'll see to it meself when I come back, but either way the lad's going with me to the Pearl and some sawbones is going to that room."
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An accident- did he fall? It is all just a blank, dark spot in his mind, but what Jack said-
Wellard looks at him, surprised. "Norrington? What happened to him?" Another wince, even as the hall keeps spinning, but he manages to look back to Mary.
"Just please go and do what he says, Mary? Its..." Something is not right, even if he has no idea what it all is, but-
"Please?" He closes his eyes.
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"I will get the doctor," she snaps - more because of the 'please' than anything else - "but you had better not take him on the ship to hide him. Because I shall know where you are. And after I get the doctor I am going to find you, and if you have hurt him -"
Meaningfully: "I know how to hit."
And with that, she whirls on her heel and runs for the stairs.
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"Now, lad, step to, come on--"
Muttering quietly, Jack supports Wellard to the stairs and down them, pausing in the shadows at the bottom.
As Mary gets the attention of a young woman, he seizes the moment of their distraction and leads Wellard around a small knot of people, looking for all the world as if one or the other of them is helping someone a bit too inebriated to walk on his own.
Seconds later, they're out the lake door and off to the Black Pearl.
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