Title: All He Ever Saw
Part: 1/1
Author: Aijin
Email: pattyd@c-zone.net
Rating: PG
Pairing: Jack/Will
Warnings: Established relationship, AU, OC(but NOT in a pairing!)
Disclaimer: I own nothing and this isn't for profit.
Summary: A descendent of a proper lady gets a haunting that is truly a vision that he'll never forget.
Archive: Oh, I'm an archive slut, let me know and it's yours.
Author's notes: I realize that surnames follow through the male's side of the family. However, for the purpose of making a nice point, I've ignored that fact. Suppose whatever circumstance you wish; unwed at the birth, denied heritage... etc. It's AU, after all.

Drums sounded. A man stood at the gallows, hands bound behind him, thick rope limp around his neck. He was strange… odd. A red scarf was wrapped about his dred-locked, black hair. He was bruised, blood still clung to him in various places, and stained his shirt in others; yet he had a melancholy beauty about him, one's heart clenched at the sight.

The curious-looking man turned to his left, to another man of similar stature and similar bondage. That man was not as odd, no, for he had the look of any other, if his dress was out of mention. He wore his dark hair long and unbound, it fell about his shoulders. His beauty was no foreign concept, as his face was handsomely chiseled, his body of superior build.

Their gazes met and their love was palpable. One could not see it so much as sense it, truly feel that there was something profound shared between them. The dred-locked man grinned as the other made vehement, whispered declarations of love. He returned them in kind, though in a stilted manner, around the reading of their crimes committed together.

The drum corps sped its reverberating rhythm, announcing the approaching demise of the two men. It brought great burden to the heart and spirit of any whom bore witness to the love between the men staged for death; many turned their faces from the sight, for the act could not be right or just or fair.

The two men turned from each other, the second following the dred-locked one's lead, and looked to one woman above all. She stood unwavering, her fan stilled, her jaw set and her hand firmly in grasp of the Commodore's arm. It had not been spoken, not rumored even, but one knew… knew by the looks the men gave her, as if begging for a justification, a reason…. One knew she had offered up these men to her precious Commodore. A fine testament of love, if not also one of honed revenge.

The woman turned her head from their gaze, out to the harbor. There, smoke rose and curled from the bellies of torched ships. Ghastly skeletons jutted from the water, evidence of the battle and destruction that had occured. What had once been a fine, gallant ship lay splayed along the jagged coast, remnants of black sails dangling from her beams. The woman smiled.

The drums stopped. Attention was back on the two men, however reluctant some were to was such a grave injustice. Wood creaked and rubbed against wood as a lever was pulled. The bodies of the men fell, only to be stopped short by the ropes around their necks. A chill breeze blew through the fort.

*****

The young man sat bolt upright, a scream ready on his lips, sweat drenching his nightclothes. He panted hard, a hand over his madly fluttering heart and heaving chest. Tears collected underneath his eyelids and trailed silent paths down his cheeks.

His door was opened slowly, soft footsteps sounded to the edge of his bed before a weight settled about it. He turned blind eyes to the shift, flinging his arms around the body he knew to be there.

"Honey, sweetie, was is it? What's wrong?" Soft motherly tones, rough with sleep yet full of love and concern. She rocked him gently, whispering soothing words until the young man clamed enough to speak.

"It wasn't right, it wasn't… Mom, she smiled. She was happy… God," He sat back and wiped at his eyes. His gaze drifted beyond his mother, wandering on the plain walls behind her.

"What wasn't right, dear? Who was happy?" He shook his head, wiping his nose with a sniffle.

"They… it was so sad. I could… I knew it, I felt it. Their… love. God, mom, I could see them! Two, two men, on scaffolds—gallows, with ropes around their necks and—it was sunny, mom. God, just… it was real." A shudder ran through the young man and he hugged himself. His mother frowned and patted his arm gently.

"You saw it? Actually saw this all?" He nodded slowly. He ran his hand through his hair, sighing loudly.

"I saw it, colors and people and things… all of it. And their ship was burning in the harbor!" He knew—he was sure—that the ship with the black sails belonged to the two men. He felt it. "God, mom, they didn't do anything wrong… they loved each other… fuck! She knew, everyone… it was wrong."

"Shh, honey, it's all right, it was just a dream." She gently pushed him back to his bed, moving the dampened hair from his face. "It was just a dream, no matter how real, sweetie. Now go back to bed, mm?" He nodded. He knew she did not understand, that she could not. She had not seen…

"Goodnight, dear," the weight left his bed and the footsteps moved away from him. "I love you." He shuttered briefly, the sentiment chilling him. He gaze wandered toward her voice.

"Love you," he whispered, pulling his blankets about him. His heart still pounded hard, his breath still came quick.

The young man could not dispel the sense of wrongness his dream had brought. He had never seen yet he saw the whole thing. The torture, the pain… the passion between the two men. The idea made him shiver and his heart squeezed painfully as the images flashed behind his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he choked around a sob. "I'm so sorry." He was overcome with heartfelt depression, truly agonizing about the dream. More and more it filled his mind, growing from flickering images to the entire scene.

"God, I'm sorry," his voice cracked. "Make it stop, I don't want to look!" He shivered and brought his hands about his head. "Please, please, oh God… I'm sorry." He was, for the scene would be all he ever saw.

*****

"It won't leave him."

"Nay, not for awhile, luv."

"Is it fair, Jack?" The dred-locked man pulled his lover close and rested his chin on the other's shoulder. They stood silently, watching the young man tremble on his bed and whisper for the scene to leave.

"It's the apology Elizabef never gave, dear William. We 'ad to wait awhile for it, indeed, but serves the same purpose, savvy?" Will exhaled quietly, clutching at the other pirate. He shut his eyes, knowing what the young man was watching, shuddering at the thought of their deaths.

"That's enough then, 'eh? Let's get back to the Pearl, luv," Jack whispered. Will nodded against his hair. He pulled away, and walked quickly to the young man's side. He brushed away the sweat that had gathered on the other's brow. The young man stilled instantly, breath shuddering and expelling with a frosty cloud. Eyes that had seen but one image sought to find something beyond their darkened gaze. Will smiled sadly, and bent to whisper in the young man's ear.

"I wish you pleasant dreams, young Mr. Swan." Will rose and turned as a soft hand settled on the small of his back. The look exchanged was impassioned, the love tangible. He leaned forward to capture Jack's lips in a soft kiss.

Their fingers twined as they embraced and faded from the room.