Fracture 7/7
Title: Fracture
Part: 7 of 7
Author: 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.
*
There were times that William realized that no matter how things had changed, Jack would never quite be fixed by the things that he broke. Jack would flinch whenever the rigging snapped in the wind the sound of a whip against flesh, or the way he would tense when an unknown hand would fall on his shoulder hands biting into skin.
He functioned, more or less, without help, and the crew accepted him readily as a second in command, even Ana Maria who smiled a little instead of firing off her hot temper at the news. With William’s loss of Jones’ syndrome, the men who had followed him either chose to move on to what lay on the other side of the sea, or lost the scales and starfish.
But Jack was a changed man. He could only call upon the power that Calypso gave him in times of great need, and without the comfort of always being able to escape, Jack would shrink in on himself, only a little, but to Will it was noticeable.
What was worse, was the unJack-like qualities the pirate possessed. Gone were the swaying hips, the coquettish grins and the pet names. Though the accent was still thick and prevalent, Jack was no more Jack than Will could be.
And it hurt. It hurt to watch the once animated man turn into a cold shell, a shell that opened during sex but closed so immediately after that it left the sex stifled and stilted. Once the act was over, once Jack had came and Will had released into him, Jack would pull away and curl up into a ball, never touching Will and jerking when Will would try.
He never initiated the sex, and Will began to feel like he was raping his old friend, and soon even that stopped. For weeks after Will stopped kissing Jack, he would catch the pirate giving him longing glances, and Will tried to encourage Jack to make a move - any move. But Jack merely would slip into the bed, under the covers and curl up into the tiny, pitiful ball.
“What do I do?” Will asked of Ana Maria miserably.
“Do you love him?” she answered back, her voice even.
Closing tired, tear damp eyes, Will nodded slowly. “Yes, God help me. I have no right to feel this way, Annie. I have no right to be hurt by his rejection. I broke him, I raped him, I practically murdered him.”
“And yet you are bound to him,” she said softly. It was not a comfort.
“I am bound to him,” Will agreed.
Ana Maria closed her eyes against the sadness in his tone and felt the sharp, amused tug of her patron goddess. Calypso planted the idea firmly and while Ana Maria knew it for the trap it was, she let the words spill from her mouth. “Will, where is your heart?”
One eyebrow lifted up, the crease found there deepening in confusion. It was such a face of the old William Turner that she stifled a gasp. “Buried with Elizabeth per my instructions. Why?”
“And the key, William?”
“Tell me why first, Ana Maria.” His voice was hard and the expression had gone.
“Because I have an idea, idiot. Where is the key?” Wordlessly Will turned and looked over at the still and silent Jack. Without her conscious consent, Ana Maria’s hand flew to her lips. “You gave it...he has it, now?”
“Aye.”
That one word, and Will was gone, flowing into the cracks of the deck. It gave Ana Maria time to plan.
*
She knelt in the sandy dirt of Elizabeth’s grave, the key clenched tightly in her hand. It had cost Jack something to give it to her, and she had nearly begged, telling him it was by Will’s request.
The fear and panic in Jack’s eyes nearly broke her resolve, but there was nothing else she could do. Her actions and ceased to be hers over a hundred years ago.
It was a small price to pay. She unlocked the old sea chest, and pulled out the beating heart, holding it close to her body in a grotesque hug. She faded away with a shimmer, leaving the chest on the edge of the water to be washed away. It’s old letters and mementos scattered by the tide.
Reverently she presented the gruesome appendage to Will whose lips turned up in a slight grin. “I see it still beats. Surprising, that,” he mused.
The heartbeat seemed to echo slightly in the cavernous cabin, but Will didn’t seem to notice. “I’m sorry, Captain,” she said though from here it meant nothing.
He grinned again, the smile unpleasant. “Leave me, Annie.” She turned to go before his voice stopped her at the door. “For what its worth,” he called over, “thank you.”
Ana Maria half turned to look at him. “For what?” she asked.
“Everything, though that doesn’t even cover it.” He stood, leaving the heart beating on the desk. “For being there, and for keeping me together before I fell. And even after.”
She crossed the room again and hugged him tightly. “Be safe, Will,” she whispered, tears in her eyes. “You only have a short time.”
“I know,” he breathed into her dark hair. “Take care of them for me.”
She nodded into his shoulder. “I will.”
He let her go and she left him, and in doing so missed the moment he stabbed his own heart through with the blade he kept at his waist. She missed the cringing pain on his handsome face. And she missed the sorrow that filled it when the single scale he’d kept fell to the ground in a gleam of blood.
*
“Jack.” The word was enough to stop him, mid motion, like a cat. It was something Will had only begun to notice in the later years of their time together. Jack was still a predator in his own way, it was though every muscle just ceased moving.
It was hard to hold himself upright, but he managed. Jack turned, one eyebrow raised. “Aye?” he asked neutrally.
“A word in your ear?” Will asked gently, making it a question, holding open the door to his cabin.
Jack nodded and gracefully slipped into the room, never once brushing against Will. He glanced around the room as was his habit but saw nothing amiss. “What is it, Will?” he asked, as Will leaned heavily against the corner of the desk. “Are you ill?”
“No, I’m...I’m not ill,” he said and there was a load of humor behind his voice. “I just...had a question for you.” He was breathing a little too deep and Jack felt worry begin to grow in the pit of his stomach.
“Ask,” he offered, taking a step back as though to escape the wrong-ness of the situation he was in.
Will licked dry lips. “Would you kiss me, Jack?” he asked, “of your own volition and want?”
The worry was replaced with an uncomfortableness that Jack failed at hiding. “Whenever I kiss you it is at my own volition,” he answered carefully.
Somehow Will found it within himself to be amused. “Nicely answered, Jack, but while its of your own volition, you didn’t say you wanted to. You only do it because you think I want you to.”
Drawing in a deep, painful breath, Jack murmured, “aye.”
Resigned, Will nodded once. “I thought so. I do love you, Jack,” he said softly. “And I can never make up for what I did to you.”
“It wasn’t you,” Jack protested. “It was the curse!” He took two steps forward into Will’s personal space. “I told you! Things have changed.” He poked Will in the chest.
The Captain of the Flying Dutchman caught Jack’s questing fingers. “No, they haven’t. Not really.”
Jack didn’t pull away. He tilted his head to the side instead, gazing at Will with new eyes. “What’s wrong, dear William?” he asked with growing dread.
The head tilt, the words, they were all so essentially Jack that Will felt the last piece break inside of him. A tear slipped down his cheek and Jack gasped. “Kiss me Jack,” Will begged. “Kiss me and mean it.”
Confused, terrified and wanting, Jack rose up on tip toe and pressed his warm lips to Will’s cold ones. They kissed, the motion chaste and unassuming, until Jack made a ragged noise and deepened it. When they broke for air, mouths hot and red, Will smiled.
“Thank you,” he murmured, leaning his forehead against Jacks. “And...take care of her for me.”
Still touching, Jack opened his mouth to reply, and suddenly Will just...wasn’t there anymore. Water dripped down the desk side, and trickled away like it had never been. Jack cursed and raced up to the deck, gazing out searchingly over the star studded water.
There was a single candle in a boat, and Will lay in it, floating away to the other world, disappearing into the mists.
Jack adjusted his hat, he turned to a silent Ana Maria and didn’t get two words out before something broke in his chest. A deep racking sob tried to force its way out of his throat and he ruthlessly squashed the sound down.
“Weigh anchor,” he said instead. “We’re going topside.”
“Aye-aye,” she said, “Captain Sparrow.”
With one last thready beat, Jack could feel his heart stop.
The End
Part: 7 of 7
Author: 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.
*
There were times that William realized that no matter how things had changed, Jack would never quite be fixed by the things that he broke. Jack would flinch whenever the rigging snapped in the wind the sound of a whip against flesh, or the way he would tense when an unknown hand would fall on his shoulder hands biting into skin.
He functioned, more or less, without help, and the crew accepted him readily as a second in command, even Ana Maria who smiled a little instead of firing off her hot temper at the news. With William’s loss of Jones’ syndrome, the men who had followed him either chose to move on to what lay on the other side of the sea, or lost the scales and starfish.
But Jack was a changed man. He could only call upon the power that Calypso gave him in times of great need, and without the comfort of always being able to escape, Jack would shrink in on himself, only a little, but to Will it was noticeable.
What was worse, was the unJack-like qualities the pirate possessed. Gone were the swaying hips, the coquettish grins and the pet names. Though the accent was still thick and prevalent, Jack was no more Jack than Will could be.
And it hurt. It hurt to watch the once animated man turn into a cold shell, a shell that opened during sex but closed so immediately after that it left the sex stifled and stilted. Once the act was over, once Jack had came and Will had released into him, Jack would pull away and curl up into a ball, never touching Will and jerking when Will would try.
He never initiated the sex, and Will began to feel like he was raping his old friend, and soon even that stopped. For weeks after Will stopped kissing Jack, he would catch the pirate giving him longing glances, and Will tried to encourage Jack to make a move - any move. But Jack merely would slip into the bed, under the covers and curl up into the tiny, pitiful ball.
“What do I do?” Will asked of Ana Maria miserably.
“Do you love him?” she answered back, her voice even.
Closing tired, tear damp eyes, Will nodded slowly. “Yes, God help me. I have no right to feel this way, Annie. I have no right to be hurt by his rejection. I broke him, I raped him, I practically murdered him.”
“And yet you are bound to him,” she said softly. It was not a comfort.
“I am bound to him,” Will agreed.
Ana Maria closed her eyes against the sadness in his tone and felt the sharp, amused tug of her patron goddess. Calypso planted the idea firmly and while Ana Maria knew it for the trap it was, she let the words spill from her mouth. “Will, where is your heart?”
One eyebrow lifted up, the crease found there deepening in confusion. It was such a face of the old William Turner that she stifled a gasp. “Buried with Elizabeth per my instructions. Why?”
“And the key, William?”
“Tell me why first, Ana Maria.” His voice was hard and the expression had gone.
“Because I have an idea, idiot. Where is the key?” Wordlessly Will turned and looked over at the still and silent Jack. Without her conscious consent, Ana Maria’s hand flew to her lips. “You gave it...he has it, now?”
“Aye.”
That one word, and Will was gone, flowing into the cracks of the deck. It gave Ana Maria time to plan.
*
She knelt in the sandy dirt of Elizabeth’s grave, the key clenched tightly in her hand. It had cost Jack something to give it to her, and she had nearly begged, telling him it was by Will’s request.
The fear and panic in Jack’s eyes nearly broke her resolve, but there was nothing else she could do. Her actions and ceased to be hers over a hundred years ago.
It was a small price to pay. She unlocked the old sea chest, and pulled out the beating heart, holding it close to her body in a grotesque hug. She faded away with a shimmer, leaving the chest on the edge of the water to be washed away. It’s old letters and mementos scattered by the tide.
Reverently she presented the gruesome appendage to Will whose lips turned up in a slight grin. “I see it still beats. Surprising, that,” he mused.
The heartbeat seemed to echo slightly in the cavernous cabin, but Will didn’t seem to notice. “I’m sorry, Captain,” she said though from here it meant nothing.
He grinned again, the smile unpleasant. “Leave me, Annie.” She turned to go before his voice stopped her at the door. “For what its worth,” he called over, “thank you.”
Ana Maria half turned to look at him. “For what?” she asked.
“Everything, though that doesn’t even cover it.” He stood, leaving the heart beating on the desk. “For being there, and for keeping me together before I fell. And even after.”
She crossed the room again and hugged him tightly. “Be safe, Will,” she whispered, tears in her eyes. “You only have a short time.”
“I know,” he breathed into her dark hair. “Take care of them for me.”
She nodded into his shoulder. “I will.”
He let her go and she left him, and in doing so missed the moment he stabbed his own heart through with the blade he kept at his waist. She missed the cringing pain on his handsome face. And she missed the sorrow that filled it when the single scale he’d kept fell to the ground in a gleam of blood.
*
“Jack.” The word was enough to stop him, mid motion, like a cat. It was something Will had only begun to notice in the later years of their time together. Jack was still a predator in his own way, it was though every muscle just ceased moving.
It was hard to hold himself upright, but he managed. Jack turned, one eyebrow raised. “Aye?” he asked neutrally.
“A word in your ear?” Will asked gently, making it a question, holding open the door to his cabin.
Jack nodded and gracefully slipped into the room, never once brushing against Will. He glanced around the room as was his habit but saw nothing amiss. “What is it, Will?” he asked, as Will leaned heavily against the corner of the desk. “Are you ill?”
“No, I’m...I’m not ill,” he said and there was a load of humor behind his voice. “I just...had a question for you.” He was breathing a little too deep and Jack felt worry begin to grow in the pit of his stomach.
“Ask,” he offered, taking a step back as though to escape the wrong-ness of the situation he was in.
Will licked dry lips. “Would you kiss me, Jack?” he asked, “of your own volition and want?”
The worry was replaced with an uncomfortableness that Jack failed at hiding. “Whenever I kiss you it is at my own volition,” he answered carefully.
Somehow Will found it within himself to be amused. “Nicely answered, Jack, but while its of your own volition, you didn’t say you wanted to. You only do it because you think I want you to.”
Drawing in a deep, painful breath, Jack murmured, “aye.”
Resigned, Will nodded once. “I thought so. I do love you, Jack,” he said softly. “And I can never make up for what I did to you.”
“It wasn’t you,” Jack protested. “It was the curse!” He took two steps forward into Will’s personal space. “I told you! Things have changed.” He poked Will in the chest.
The Captain of the Flying Dutchman caught Jack’s questing fingers. “No, they haven’t. Not really.”
Jack didn’t pull away. He tilted his head to the side instead, gazing at Will with new eyes. “What’s wrong, dear William?” he asked with growing dread.
The head tilt, the words, they were all so essentially Jack that Will felt the last piece break inside of him. A tear slipped down his cheek and Jack gasped. “Kiss me Jack,” Will begged. “Kiss me and mean it.”
Confused, terrified and wanting, Jack rose up on tip toe and pressed his warm lips to Will’s cold ones. They kissed, the motion chaste and unassuming, until Jack made a ragged noise and deepened it. When they broke for air, mouths hot and red, Will smiled.
“Thank you,” he murmured, leaning his forehead against Jacks. “And...take care of her for me.”
Still touching, Jack opened his mouth to reply, and suddenly Will just...wasn’t there anymore. Water dripped down the desk side, and trickled away like it had never been. Jack cursed and raced up to the deck, gazing out searchingly over the star studded water.
There was a single candle in a boat, and Will lay in it, floating away to the other world, disappearing into the mists.
Jack adjusted his hat, he turned to a silent Ana Maria and didn’t get two words out before something broke in his chest. A deep racking sob tried to force its way out of his throat and he ruthlessly squashed the sound down.
“Weigh anchor,” he said instead. “We’re going topside.”
“Aye-aye,” she said, “Captain Sparrow.”
With one last thready beat, Jack could feel his heart stop.
The End