A/N: My second PotC fic. I'm a tad obsessed right now and I wanted to see if I could write for Jack. Please let me know if I succeeded a little bit or if I failed miserably. Happy reading!
Will slammed his fist on the desk in his captain's cabin aboard the Flying Dutchman. He couldn't take it anymore. He just couldn't. How pathetic was that? It had only been one week. One week. How was he going to survive the next 9 years and 51 weeks if he couldn't even last one week as the captain of this infernal ship without Elizabeth. In fact, he doubted he would even be able to handle this pressure if she was here with him.
Suddenly, the ship lurched to a stop, sending Will and his few possessions (all so kindly left to him with the passing of Davy Jones…not) flying across the room. He sighed irritably. Not another one.
Opening the door to his cabin, Will stepped out onto the deck. He composed himself so as not to scare whatever unfortunate soul had met their untimely end at sea and needed his help getting to the other side. When he had become captain, Will had pledged not to be the same frightful presence Davy Jones had been to the poor people who ended up in a watery grave.
"What have we got?" Will asked his father as he walked across the deck.
His father shrugged. "I'm not sure. The Dutchman sort of has a mind of her own sometimes. She must sense a ghostly presence in these waters."
Will looked up toward the surface of the ocean. It was odd living underwater for so long. But much of his time was spent above the water in the Land of the Dead, helping the ones Davy Jones had failed to escort along their way and who had been unable to make it on their own. And though he commanded the Dutchman where to go most of the time (his heart being linked to the ship had given him the strangest ability to sense danger) sometimes the old, yet timeless ship took on the heading all by her lonesome and Will was left only to guess where they would end up. At least it gave him time to think of his past…and hopeful future…with Elizabeth.
Interrupting Will's thoughts, the ship jerked and started to rise above the water. Will held onto the mast for dear life (though he technically was immortal and didn't have to; old habits die hard) and they rose above the shimmering surface, soaking wet, but none of them felt the cold. They were too used to the sea to notice.
Will scanned the surface, curious as to why the ship had risen so suddenly. Then he spotted his mark.
A few feet away from his own ship floated a small dinghy. As he studied the boat, Will's eyes grew large in realization and he gave the command to pull it in.
On the mast flew a Jolly Roger flag, a pirate flag, and in the ship there was a pirate. But this wasn't just any pirate. It was a sleeping Jack Sparrow. Will shook his head and automatically corrected his thoughts. It was a sleeping Captain Jack Sparrow. Though the ship he currently appeared to be captain of was several sizes smaller than Will had remembered the Black Pearl being.
The ship was hauled in closer and, using teamwork, as the crew always had since Will had become captain, the pirate was heaved aboard the ship. Will rushed over to him, fearing the worst, but noticed he was breathing. He really was just sleeping. But then why did the Dutchman decide to make a stop here?
Jack then started to contort his face in such a way that Will knew he was about to wake up. One black-lined eye opened and peered into Will's face. Then both of the eyes opened in apparent confusion and fear and Jack quickly jolted up and glanced out at the Dutchman's crew.
"Am I dead?" he asked bluntly and uncertainly.
"No, Jack. We found you. The Dutchman stopped here and you were sleeping in your…ship."
"Oh. Good." Then he turned to look at Will. He eyed his scar with an unreadable expression, then said. "You're looking…good."
Will rolled his eyes. "How long has it been since you've eaten?"
"Well, I've got rum in my ship."
Will stared blankly. "Rum doesn't count."
Jack stumbled back in horror. "Blasphemy! Rum counts for everything."
Sighing, Will turned and began to stride to his quarters. He had some food in there, he was sure. Maybe not the best food; some fish, he was sure; but it was better than Jack's diet of rum for the past…however long he had been floating in that ship.
"Where are you going? Wait for me!" Jack said, following Will and matching his stride in mock admiration for the captain of the Flying Dutchman.
Will ignored the pirate and rummaged through his things in his quarters. Ah! There it was. He winced in disgust at the smell of fish. Being immortal, he technically didn't have to eat, and he had been so upset about losing Elizabeth for the past week, that he hadn't had the stomach for it. But he decided to keep extra fish in his quarters just in case he ever got the urge to eat something.
He pulled out a fish and turned around. He looked uncertainly around him for a means of cooking and found none. Seeing that Will was looking for something, Jack moved his head this way and that, as if helping him, though he really had no idea what was going on.
Will led the way to one of the few "rooms" below the deck of the Dutchman and found the room which held the old organ that Jones had enjoyed playing so much. Will looked around in silence and found some wood stacked in the corner. He frowned, knowing that it would be wet, but if wood or other miscellaneous supplies were to be found, this, he had discovered, was the room in which they would be located. It was almost as if the Dutchman sensed when he needed something and configured it out of thin air and placed it in that room. It was rather odd.
Knowing that the ship was so wet that a fire wouldn't hurt it at all, Will stacked the wood in the middle of the room and left out two sticks to start a fire.
Watching all of this and following along in his own mind, Jack mumbled, "I swear, you're becoming more and more like me with every passing second. Shame."
Hearing this, Will stopped what he was doing, stood up straight and cocked his head at Jack. "What do you mean?"
Jack gesticulated wildly. "All of this. You've not said one word about what you're doing, and yet you're doing it. You've taken command, William, and you've not trusted anyone with the information about what your plan is. It's very…piratey."
Will narrowed his eyes, then nodded slightly and continued what he was doing. "It's obvious you haven't eaten. I found a fish and I'm making a fire so you can cook it and get on your merry little way, Jack. The Flying Dutchman is a very particular ship and wouldn't have stopped unless you were in danger of death by starvation."
"Or unless it wanted to stop because its heart felt a presence at which a stop would be adequately made."
As smoke rose above the pile of wood, a humble fire having been started, Will's head turned sharply in Jack's direction.
"Nothing," Jack said innocently.
Will scrutinized his old "acquaintance" and handed him the fish cautiously.
"Here. You need to eat and I need to go check on the rest of the crew and see if anyone else is out there dying."
Jack grabbed the fish. "And you're getting a sense of humor. A poor one at that, but it's a step up, I suppose."
Will decided not to make a retort and was about to walk out of the room when something told him he needed to stay. Most likely to keep and eye on Jack and make sure he didn't make trouble of things.
Jack poked around the room, looking for something in which to cook his fish. Having no luck and being extraordinarily hungry (though not starving to the point of death), He decided to throw the fish into the fire.
"Oh, yes. That was brilliance. I give you a fish and you toss it away as though it's garbage. I'm glad you're so full of gratitude," Will said dryly.
Jack quickly reached into the fire, yelping at the heat, and pulled out the flaming fish. He quickly blew it out and held the blackened object in his hands.
"I could say the same about you, mate."
Will swallowed guiltily at the comment, wincing a little bit. Then his eyes grew wide as it all began to make sense. His heart was linked to the ship. The ship hadn't stopped because Jack was about to die. The ship had stopped because Will had subconsciously wanted it to; to find Jack and talk to him about what happened aboard the ship one week ago. That's what had been eating away at him.
"Thank you, Jack," Will said quietly.
"For what?" Jack said, feigning obliviousness.
"For what you did for me. You gave up your chance at immortality to save me."
Taking a bite out of his fish en flambé, Jack shrugged, "Take a look at your chest, mate. I don't think you've got much to be thanking me for."
Will shook his head. "No, Jack. If you hadn't done that, Elizabeth and I…we never would have been together. We never would have been able to…"
Jack stuck his fingers in his ears, "Ah, no. La, la, la, la. I don't need to hear about your little honeymoon on a little deserted island. I've been there and done that, William. I don't believe I need to listen to your description."
Will gave a ghost of a smile. "I'm serious, though, Jack. Thank you for…saving my life. I have to admit it was very un-piratey."
Jack took another bite of the smoldered fish. "Then I guess we've both rubbed off a bit on each other, eh? Though I more so on you than you on me. That was a once-in-a-lifetime offer by Cap'n Jack Sparrow. You just be thankful you were there to receive it."
Will looked Jack in the eye with his ever-sad gaze. "I am."
Jack creased his brow as if afraid of the seriousness of the conversation. "Well, you've said what you wanted, so what say I get off this bloody ship and back to me own," Jack said, meaning his pathetic dinghy.
Will smiled. "I think I can do that," he answered, meaning something else.
"Captain Barbossa! There's something over there!" cried the man in the crow's nest, pointing in a westward direction.
Taking out his long spyglass, Barbossa pointed it in the direction the man was pointing.
"Bloody sea turtles," he murmured as he saw Jack Sparrow captaining his dinghy Barbossa had so kindly left for him at their last port. A short distance behind him sat the Flying Dutchman, with its captain, Will Turner, waving pleasantly at the helm in Barbossa's direction.
Barbossa yelled off the edge of the ship. "What be ya doin', Jack?"
Jumping at the sound of Barbossa's voice, Jack turned to him and cupped his hands around his mouth.
"I've come to take back my ship!"
"And what makes ya think I would do that?"
Jack pointed behind him, "The threat of needing the Flying Dutchman's captain to escort the dead souls left in the wake of the Flying Dutchman."
Barbossa's face fell. "And what would prompt the Dutchman to be helpin' the likes of you to gain yer ship back, Jack?"
Jack smiled a small smile and lowered his head to better gaze at the "current captain" of the Pearl. "Its heart, mate. Its heart."
Barbossa was still bewildered, but merely slammed his fists on the side of his ship and turned in the opposite direction. He wasn't going to incur the wrath of the Dutchman with a biased Will Turner as its captain…and to think he had married him.
Jack grinned back at Will and gave a thumbs-up.
"If he ever gives you trouble, Jack, I'll know," Will shouted to him. "And I'll be there to return the favor you gave me."
Jack nodded, "I know, lad, I know. But don't be expecting no more help from me. I'm retiring in the do-gooding field. I'll leave that to you."
Will gave a semi-smile and joked, "I dunno, Jack. You may have rubbed off on me a little too much."
Jack muttered to himself, "I hope not, mate." Then he continued his teasing. "And by the way, I'll take good care of your bonnie lass while you're at sea...for the next 10 years!"
Will's face lost all humor and he glowered at Jack. "Jack Sparrow, I swear if you--,"
"CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow, if you please, William. And fear not. I wouldn't dream of it…for at least another 3 years."
Realizing Jack was joking, Will smiled, "CAPTAIN William Turner."
Jack thought a moment, as if analyzing the sentence's meaning and humor, and shook his head, "Not quite, mate. But you're getting there."
And with that, Jack got back to his rowing and closed the distance between his dinghy and his beloved Black Pearl. Will watched until he was certain the pirates aboard would not put up another fight, then his ship sank to the deepest depths of the ocean as he continued his journeys. They would not be without their heartaches (though he didn't technically have a heart to ache…), but at least he had settled a few more of his old ones before he went on with his immortal life amid the sea…at least for the next 10 years.
Jack was curious to see what it was like to "do the right thing" and "gain the rewards and admiration" or whatever that followed. But I didn't see too much admiration that followed this good deed, so I gave him some. What d'ya think? Please R&R! Thanks.