Fracture 3/7
Title: Fracture
Part: 3 of 7
Author: miss_drea_fic“miss_drea_fic”
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Pairing: Jack/Will
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Will loses himself to the Sea.
Disclaimer: The Mouse owns it all.
*
William didn’t show up for his second day on land in twenty years. He had no reason to, and he couldn’t bear to face Elizabeth with the scales and spinal fin that adorned his body. Ana Maria who had never once commented on his new features took his decisions all in stride, running his personal errands as her body remained clear of the damning curse. When asked, she just shrugged. “I never fell in love,” was her response and Will could never meet her eyes after the sentence.
Several days after he missed his day on land, he ceased being able to wear a shirt, the spinal fin long and large against his tapering back. It was Ana Maria who soothed his fevered sleep, shushing his cries with her willing mouth, and blissfully ignored the name dropping from his lips.
It went on for years, the ebb and flow, and nothing changed. It wasn’t until the crack in Will’s soul became and rend, and the rend became a fracture, and the fracture became a large gaping hole that Ana Maria did something.
She called Calypso.
*
Ana Maria stood on the shore of an abandoned island, the same (though she didn’t realize it) island that Jack had been marooned on almost half a century before. She laid a hand flat in the water and opened her soul to the driving force of the ocean. For a long time, nothing happened. Her knees locked, her back ached, and her hand grew cold but still she waited. She could feel the pull when Will tried to find her, and she sent back a reply and his prodding ceased.
It was only then, that Calypso appeared. Crabs crawled up towards Ana Maria, stopping within inches of her bare feet. The built on each other, melding and molding into a yellow taffeta dress, and dark skin that matched the woman in front of the budding Goddess. When her face appeared, she was smiling, the very image of a pleased God. Ana Maria bowed her head, pulling her fingers out of the ocean.
“You may rise,” the Goddess said, her voice echoing like many waves. “I require no homage from the likes of you.”
Ana Maria slowly stood, her muscles protesting at the movement. “My Lady,” she said, “I have a boon to ask you.”
Calypso laughed and the world shook. “A boon? To ask of me?” She laughed again, and the waves rolled a little higher. “What could I possibly do for you?”
Ana Maria licked suddenly dry lips. “Bring back Jack,” she requested solemnly. “That is what I ask.”
The smile faded from the Goddess’ face. “Ahh... that one... his soul was given to me freely by William Turner,” she intoned. “What say you for why?”
“Will... broke, my Lady Goddess. He...he loved Jack, I think, because he didn’t break until after Jack had gone.” Ana Maria dared look up into Calypso’s swirling black eyes. “Will broke Jack for love, and Jack broke Will by leaving.”
Calypso chuckled again, causing ripples in the water by her feet. “And why should you ask me this, and not my dearest Captain?” she asked, amusement coloring her voice. “Why not William?”
Ana Maria’s chin raised. “Because I have no other love but the sea. And I am the only one unaffected by the Dutchmans curse. Because if I don’t...who will?”
The Goddess regarded her for a long moment. “I will give you what you ask,” she said at last. “But you will owe me,” she added dangerously. “When you choose to leave the service of my Captain, and I shall let you decided when that shall be for you have loved my domain well, you will owe to me the rest of eternity.”
Ana Maria nodded sharply. “I understand.”
“Then consider your request done,” Calypso said, and vanished in a sparkling pool of water. Wondering for a moment how the rest of it would pan out, Ana Maria stepped into her doom and she too melted away, avoiding Will’s questions.
She continued to wait for a sign, any sign that Jack had returned. She was disappointed however, when more years flew by and Jack never appeared. Not alive, not dead and certainly not where she could see him. So she kept comforting Will with her lips and her body, devoting the rest of her eternity to his sanity and his comfort.
She never knew what Calypso had in store.
*
Captain Jack Sparrow woke one morning on the shore of Nassau, fully clothed, and more sober than he could remember being ever. A few quick checks of dates, names and the rest of the information he seemed to be lacking, found it several -more than several!- years into the future he never would have seen.
Elizabeth was dead, he found out, though he did speak to a man who claimed to know her son, the old William Jack, who owned a blacksmithing shop in Kingston, Norrington, Beckett and many of the crew that he once knew were also dead, and the Legend of the Black Pearl was just that - a legend.
Finding no sign of anyone he might have once known, and no memory of how he lost so much time, Jack continued to live his life going from one name to the next, one style to the other, and continued to hunt for immortality. (After commandeering a ship, he found that La Isla De Muerta still had its gold, and he didn’t have to work, just kept raiding its old stores.)
It wasn’t until he reached a port city south of the coast of Africa that the trouble started. He ran into Pintel and Ragetti.
They blinked at him, and somehow in death Ragetti seemed to have regained an eye, and Jack blinked back, equally as stunned. “...Captain?” Ragetti asked, his jaw quivering.
Jack’s expression softened. Before the bout with Barbossa, Charles Ragetti had been a very good deckhand and better friend to him. “Aye, Charlie,” he said evenly. “It’s me.”
Ragetti jerked but Pintel held fast to his arm. “You’re supposed to be dead,” Edward Pintel spat out.
“Where have I heard that before?” Jack asked mildly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Now, if you don’t mind my asking gentlemen, how is it that you’re alive, when so many years have passed?”
“The... other Captain,” Ragetti choked out. “Will Turner. He took us in.”
“Ah,” Jack said. “Then we’ll be keeping this between us, won’t we?” he asked pointedly, glaring fiercely at his two former crewmates.
Ed nodded slowly. “Not a word,” he said. “Now it’s our turn. How are you still alive?”
“That,” Jack said, pursing his lips, “is a very good question.” He offered a hand to Ragetti, and the other to Pintel. “Shall we discuss it over a drink?”
*
When Charlie and Ed returned to The Dutchman, they were smiling widely. Will gave them an odd look (made more so by the scales on his face) and Charlie’s eyes widened and he turned to Pintel urgently. “Ed!” he hissed, when they got out of hearing range of Will. “Ed, on The Captain’s neck!”
“Which Captain?” Pintel grunted, uninterested and used to his friends yammering.
“Our Captain!” was the predictable response.
Rolling his eyes heavily, Pintel replied with: “Our Captain is which Captain that’s ours now?”
Ragetti paused for a long moment to figure out exactly what his friend had said. “Jack!” he hissed finally and Pintel turned to look at him, glaring patiently. “When we was drinking, he had a mark on his neck. Did you see it?”
“Aye,” Pintel said, dragging the word out. “So what? It looked like one of...” he trailed off, comprehension dawning in his face. “...one of Captain Turner’s.”
“But how...?” Ragetti began before the two friends exchanged identical looks. “Annie,” they chorused and raced into the fos’cle where Ana Maria had set up shop.
And somewhere Jack looked over the water and swore to the Goddess he now served that he’d find a way to get there.
*End Part 3
Part: 3 of 7
Author: miss_drea_fic“miss_drea_fic”
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Pairing: Jack/Will
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Will loses himself to the Sea.
Disclaimer: The Mouse owns it all.
*
William didn’t show up for his second day on land in twenty years. He had no reason to, and he couldn’t bear to face Elizabeth with the scales and spinal fin that adorned his body. Ana Maria who had never once commented on his new features took his decisions all in stride, running his personal errands as her body remained clear of the damning curse. When asked, she just shrugged. “I never fell in love,” was her response and Will could never meet her eyes after the sentence.
Several days after he missed his day on land, he ceased being able to wear a shirt, the spinal fin long and large against his tapering back. It was Ana Maria who soothed his fevered sleep, shushing his cries with her willing mouth, and blissfully ignored the name dropping from his lips.
It went on for years, the ebb and flow, and nothing changed. It wasn’t until the crack in Will’s soul became and rend, and the rend became a fracture, and the fracture became a large gaping hole that Ana Maria did something.
She called Calypso.
*
Ana Maria stood on the shore of an abandoned island, the same (though she didn’t realize it) island that Jack had been marooned on almost half a century before. She laid a hand flat in the water and opened her soul to the driving force of the ocean. For a long time, nothing happened. Her knees locked, her back ached, and her hand grew cold but still she waited. She could feel the pull when Will tried to find her, and she sent back a reply and his prodding ceased.
It was only then, that Calypso appeared. Crabs crawled up towards Ana Maria, stopping within inches of her bare feet. The built on each other, melding and molding into a yellow taffeta dress, and dark skin that matched the woman in front of the budding Goddess. When her face appeared, she was smiling, the very image of a pleased God. Ana Maria bowed her head, pulling her fingers out of the ocean.
“You may rise,” the Goddess said, her voice echoing like many waves. “I require no homage from the likes of you.”
Ana Maria slowly stood, her muscles protesting at the movement. “My Lady,” she said, “I have a boon to ask you.”
Calypso laughed and the world shook. “A boon? To ask of me?” She laughed again, and the waves rolled a little higher. “What could I possibly do for you?”
Ana Maria licked suddenly dry lips. “Bring back Jack,” she requested solemnly. “That is what I ask.”
The smile faded from the Goddess’ face. “Ahh... that one... his soul was given to me freely by William Turner,” she intoned. “What say you for why?”
“Will... broke, my Lady Goddess. He...he loved Jack, I think, because he didn’t break until after Jack had gone.” Ana Maria dared look up into Calypso’s swirling black eyes. “Will broke Jack for love, and Jack broke Will by leaving.”
Calypso chuckled again, causing ripples in the water by her feet. “And why should you ask me this, and not my dearest Captain?” she asked, amusement coloring her voice. “Why not William?”
Ana Maria’s chin raised. “Because I have no other love but the sea. And I am the only one unaffected by the Dutchmans curse. Because if I don’t...who will?”
The Goddess regarded her for a long moment. “I will give you what you ask,” she said at last. “But you will owe me,” she added dangerously. “When you choose to leave the service of my Captain, and I shall let you decided when that shall be for you have loved my domain well, you will owe to me the rest of eternity.”
Ana Maria nodded sharply. “I understand.”
“Then consider your request done,” Calypso said, and vanished in a sparkling pool of water. Wondering for a moment how the rest of it would pan out, Ana Maria stepped into her doom and she too melted away, avoiding Will’s questions.
She continued to wait for a sign, any sign that Jack had returned. She was disappointed however, when more years flew by and Jack never appeared. Not alive, not dead and certainly not where she could see him. So she kept comforting Will with her lips and her body, devoting the rest of her eternity to his sanity and his comfort.
She never knew what Calypso had in store.
*
Captain Jack Sparrow woke one morning on the shore of Nassau, fully clothed, and more sober than he could remember being ever. A few quick checks of dates, names and the rest of the information he seemed to be lacking, found it several -more than several!- years into the future he never would have seen.
Elizabeth was dead, he found out, though he did speak to a man who claimed to know her son, the old William Jack, who owned a blacksmithing shop in Kingston, Norrington, Beckett and many of the crew that he once knew were also dead, and the Legend of the Black Pearl was just that - a legend.
Finding no sign of anyone he might have once known, and no memory of how he lost so much time, Jack continued to live his life going from one name to the next, one style to the other, and continued to hunt for immortality. (After commandeering a ship, he found that La Isla De Muerta still had its gold, and he didn’t have to work, just kept raiding its old stores.)
It wasn’t until he reached a port city south of the coast of Africa that the trouble started. He ran into Pintel and Ragetti.
They blinked at him, and somehow in death Ragetti seemed to have regained an eye, and Jack blinked back, equally as stunned. “...Captain?” Ragetti asked, his jaw quivering.
Jack’s expression softened. Before the bout with Barbossa, Charles Ragetti had been a very good deckhand and better friend to him. “Aye, Charlie,” he said evenly. “It’s me.”
Ragetti jerked but Pintel held fast to his arm. “You’re supposed to be dead,” Edward Pintel spat out.
“Where have I heard that before?” Jack asked mildly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Now, if you don’t mind my asking gentlemen, how is it that you’re alive, when so many years have passed?”
“The... other Captain,” Ragetti choked out. “Will Turner. He took us in.”
“Ah,” Jack said. “Then we’ll be keeping this between us, won’t we?” he asked pointedly, glaring fiercely at his two former crewmates.
Ed nodded slowly. “Not a word,” he said. “Now it’s our turn. How are you still alive?”
“That,” Jack said, pursing his lips, “is a very good question.” He offered a hand to Ragetti, and the other to Pintel. “Shall we discuss it over a drink?”
*
When Charlie and Ed returned to The Dutchman, they were smiling widely. Will gave them an odd look (made more so by the scales on his face) and Charlie’s eyes widened and he turned to Pintel urgently. “Ed!” he hissed, when they got out of hearing range of Will. “Ed, on The Captain’s neck!”
“Which Captain?” Pintel grunted, uninterested and used to his friends yammering.
“Our Captain!” was the predictable response.
Rolling his eyes heavily, Pintel replied with: “Our Captain is which Captain that’s ours now?”
Ragetti paused for a long moment to figure out exactly what his friend had said. “Jack!” he hissed finally and Pintel turned to look at him, glaring patiently. “When we was drinking, he had a mark on his neck. Did you see it?”
“Aye,” Pintel said, dragging the word out. “So what? It looked like one of...” he trailed off, comprehension dawning in his face. “...one of Captain Turner’s.”
“But how...?” Ragetti began before the two friends exchanged identical looks. “Annie,” they chorused and raced into the fos’cle where Ana Maria had set up shop.
And somewhere Jack looked over the water and swore to the Goddess he now served that he’d find a way to get there.
*End Part 3