Part Two (Chapters Ten through Eighteen) are available here.

Title: Native Warrior

Author: Jessie-chan

Rating: Overall, probably an R; could go to NC-17

Pairing: Sparrow / Turner, of course

Disclaimer: The characters, the boat (I mean, ship), and everything else good about the movie belong to Disney; I'm just a perverted middle-man.

Notes: I began writing this while listening to the Queen of the Damned soundtrack (the score album, not the one with the various artists), so you can imagine my mindset when I began this. Oh, and I know nothing about boats...so don't blame me ENTIRELY if some of the boat terminology sounds a bit...off. ^_^ Also, I normally write fantasy and a little science fiction (though mostly fantasy), and this is my first fanfic. *winces* Be nice, but honest, please.

Native Warrior (1/?)

Chapter One

Will Turner gazed out across the harbor of Port Royal, staring out across the choppy waters at the lightning streaking the sky in faint lines. A storm was slowly approaching the port town, and ship crews were prowling the vessels parked in slips along the shore, taking in the masts and untying painstakingly strung ropes. One sailor balanced precariously but gracefully on the railing of the crow's nest, calling out various instructions to nearby companions. A heavy wind pushed against the sailors' efforts, and sprinkles of rain didn't help matters any.

Will frowned as he turned his eyes in the direction of the approaching storm. Rumors said that it was to be a hurricane; several ships had already been lost at sea this season from the ferocity of the storm. And that made him worry.

He knew the Black Pearl was somewhere out there. She had last been sighted near one of the outer islands before the warm Caribbean waters blended into the colder ones of the Atlantic Ocean. He hadn't heard anything from Jack since the crazy pirate had fallen from the battlements on that long-ago day and swum out to the Black Pearl to rejoin his crew.

'Has it really been a year?' he thought to himself. 'It seems shorter.'

As much as he hated to admit to himself, he missed the eccentric pirate. Jack Sparrow had introduced a completely new love to his heart, and he had been unable to ignore it for the past year: that of a love for the sea. No matter how much Elizabeth tried to distract Will's mind from the waters with various social activities, he still couldn't shake the feeling that he should be out THERE, sailing under Jack's command if he couldn't get his own ship, rather than cooped up here in Port Royal with a fiancee who just didn't understand why he came out to the ports so much.

'Maybe a little TOO much,' he thought to himself, sighing and sitting on the edge of a pier. He bent a knee and rested his chin against it, his arms wrapped around his leg and his other leg swinging free.

Will knew he spent too much time out at the docks. He understood Elizabeth's worry completely; he would have been worried if she were doing the same. Of course, her father hadn't been a pirate; he was the Governor, and she acted decorously, as a lady of her stature should. HE was the one with the problem.

Looking up at the storm, which wasn't as distant as it had been moments before, he thought he saw a dark spot silhouetted against the lightning flashing more enthusiastically. Shaking his head, he stood, squinting his brown eyes in that direction. He couldn't see anything, and, shrugging, he turned away and started down the pier.

"It was just your imagination," he berated himself softly. "Keep it up, and you'll start imagining Jack walking up the pier with that damnable smile on his face."

The lightning flashed again, and he turned his eyes once more in that direction. Almost certainly, he saw the silhouette once again. Frowning to himself, his gaze moved along the horizon and then up to the sailors, who were chattering and shouting to each other in seeming amazement and pointing towards the storm.

"What is it?" Will asked a passing sailor as a wave slammed against the docks and sent a spray of sea on both of them.

"There's a ship out there," the sailor replied. "Riding the storm. We've never seen anyone brave enough to do that."

"Or foolish enough," another sailor muttered, bundling a rope and tying it up.

"Riding the storm?" Will repeated. "Why would it be doing that?"

"The crew must not have been able to bring it in to port soon enough; it looks like they're caught up in the storm," the first sailor replied. He and the other sailor looked out towards the storm, and Will's eyes followed theirs.

"How long do you think we have until the storm gets here?" Will asked.

"An hour at the most," the second sailor answered. "There's not much time," he added to the first sailor.

"I know. I'll be there in a moment." The second sailor walked off to assist the others, and the first sailor glanced at Will. "I suggest, sir, that you get to shelter and safety soon. This storm won't be pretty. It's one of the strongest sea-twisters I've ever seen or care to see."

Will nodded shortly, looking once more at the storm and the distant ship before turning and heading back towards the Governor's mansion and Elizabeth.

***

"Any news on the storm?" Governor Swann asked Will as he walked into the mansion and pulled his coat off to hand to the butler.

"It should be here in an hour at the most," Will replied, relaying what the sailors had told him. "It looks like things will be pretty bad."

"I hope it doesn't do too much damage to the town," the governor grumbled, leading Will into the sitting room. "It took us long enough to clean up and rebuild after that pirate attack last year without having everything destroyed by a hurricane."

"I know," Will replied, sitting on the sofa and looking around. "Where's Elizabeth?"

"I'm not sure. I think she stepped on the back veranda to get some fresh air before the storm got here."

Will nodded and rose from his seat, excusing himself from the governor's presence. He headed through the house to the massive back porch, where Elizabeth stood with elbows propped on the railing, gazing out on the waters--a different part of the waters than what Will had been watching, Will noted with dissatisfaction. He would have liked to see if the ship had managed to get in to port before the storm hit.

"Elizabeth," he said quietly to warn her of his presence.

She turned slightly and smiled. "Will, you're back," she commented, giving him a light peck on the cheek. He returned the gesture. "Where did you go?"

"I went on a walk," he replied, joining her at the railing, "mostly to find out anything about the storm. It should be here in about an hour." He paused. "We should get inside soon."

"I know," she said. "I..." She sighed and looked at him directly, brushing a stray blonde curl from her face. "Will, I'm worried about you."

He swallowed and made a show of being unconcerned. "Worried? What have I done to worry you?"

"You go out on these long walks without a word as to where you're going, and when you return, you look as dissatisfied as you did when you left, if not more so." She frowned slightly, her blue eyes concerned. "Have I done something to make you unhappy?"

"No!" Will exclaimed, unintentionally losing his nonchalance. "I just..." He closed his eyes momentarily. "It's nothing you should worry about. It's nothing you can control. I'm sure it will go away eventually."

Elizabeth stared at him for a long moment. "I wish you would talk to me about it."

"I don't want to," he muttered, leaning with his back to the view of the water and crossing his arms, his eyes averted.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to!" he snapped. He mentally smacked himself when he noticed the hurt look in her eyes. She stared for a moment longer, then turned and walked swiftly into the house.

Will sighed for what seemed like the thousandth time that day and turned back around, kicking the railing roughly. He didn't mean to hurt her feelings; it seemed like he screwed up everything lately.

Propping against the railing again, he rested his head on his forearms and stared out over the water. Maybe he needed a vacation from Elizabeth; they'd spent almost the entirety of the past year together, and maybe he was tiring of her eternal presence a little. 'That's always possible,' he conceeded to himself.

Then he found his thoughts wandering back to Jack, and he shook his head. "I have got to get out more," he muttered, straightening. He turned and walked back into the house.

He found Governor Swann standing before a blazing fireplace in the sitting room, warming his hands and sipping from a drink, which had the sharp, fruity smell of wine. Will cleared his throat and smiled when the governor turned around. "Governor Swann, I have a few matters I need to attend to at my blacksmith shop before the storm hits; is there anything you need me to pick up while I'm in town?"

Swann shook his head and wave a hand in his direction. "Go, before the storm gets any worse."

Will nodded his head shortly and left the mansion.

***

The storm had definitely moved closer to landfall, Will observed as heavy winds buffeted him. He actually found himself stumbling along the street, the wind doing its best to knock him off his feet and send him tumbling to the muddy ground. Fleetingly, he thought of the ship that was "riding the storm," as the sailors put it, and he wondered how the wind must feel onboard that ship. 'Probably strong enough to send a man overboard with no problem,' he thought to himself as he threw open the wooden door to the blacksmith shop. As he pushed it shut, he glanced at the sign twisting above the door and its newly painted words "W. Turner" and smiled a little. His master, Mr. Brown, had died of too much drink a few months after Will had returned from his little adventure with the pirates, and Will had taken over the business.

He firmly latched the door shut and turned to survey the the shop. Before he could set about with his tasks, running footsteps and shouts outside drew his attention back to the door. Curious, he opened the door and stepped out into the wind.

"What's going on?" he shouted to a man as he passed.

"A ship just reached the port and the sailors need help before the storm hits," he replied.

A strange, fleeting feeling shot through Will's mind, and he caught the man's sleeve. "What ship is it? Do you know?"

"The Black Pearl," the man replied before pulling his sleeve away and running towards the port.

Will yanked the smithy door shut behind him. That could wait. There were obviously more important things to attend to. He followed the somewhat small band of men to the port, where the large black ship loomed just where the water turned too shallow for a ship its size. It was definitely the Pearl.

Something was wrong, Will sensed, his eyes assessing the situation with one sweep. Several lines had snapped, and many of the newly white sails were torn or shredded. Two small dinghys worked their way slowly towards the dock, rowing against the waves that threatened to capsize both of the small boats.

Instead of heading for one of the many wooden piers, the boats beached themselves nearby, and Will sprinted for the spot, joined by several other men.

Anamaria was in the first boat, her black hair windtossed, her clothing soaked and torn. She looked up and smiled slightly at Will before the smile faded with worry. "Will! We need help!" she yelled, aiding her fellow pirates out of the boat she was in. She ran into the water, towards the other boat, and Will followed, staying a little behind as several of the pirates leaped out and tugged the boat to shore past Will. He didn't get the chance to look inside as they waded past him, his view blocked by several of the men he had sailed with once a year ago.

Will shoved his way through the rough waters and back to the sand on the beach.

And it was there, to his shock, that he saw the crew lift an unconscious Jack Sparrow from the second dinghy and carry him to shore.

Native Warrior (2/?)

Chapter Two

Will shook off his shock and headed towards Anamaria, who was charging through the wind further to shore. "What happened?" he called, feeling as if the wind had sucked the last of his breath from him. Or maybe the sight of an unconscious Jack had done that. He wasn't sure which.

"That's a matter for later," she replied. "For now, we need to get to shelter. That storm is going to hit very shortly."

"But the sailors said we had about an hour!" Will said in frustration.

"They were wrong," she shot back, pulling away from him and leading her men. "They're wrong about the entire storm."

Will quickly opened his mouth to ask her something else, but she looked at him, and he shut his mouth just as quickly. The look in her eyes was a little scared, almost traumatized, and it begged him to not ask anymore questions for now. He nodded shortly. "Do you have any place you can go?" he asked her, matching her stride as she headed up the port.

Anamaria paused for a long moment, stopping her hurried walk completely. "No," she admitted. "I'm so...so shook up, I'm not even sure where I was going just now."

Will frowned. "I can put you up in my smithy." He looked back at the crew, who had followed silently. "There's not too many of you."

The woman slumped slightly in relief before straightening and gesturing to him with a sweep of her hand. "Lead the way, Mr. Turner."

It didn't take much time for Will to show the group of pirates to the blacksmith shop. He let them in and latched the door shut behind them all. Then he turned his gaze on Jack, who was supported by Mr. Gibbs and Mr. Cotton, one on each side with Jack's arms draped over their shoulders. Mr. Cotton's parrot perched on Jack's arm; it's normal perch was taken. Will took a quick moment to look Jack up and down.

Jack's head hung limply forward, so Will couldn't see his face. His legs were bent slightly at the knees, and he breathed harshly and with a slight rasp. Frowning, he motioned to Gibbs and Cotton. "Bring him in here," he requested, leading them to a small room off from the main one; inside was a table, several chairs, and a thick mattress on the floor in the corner. Gibbs and Cotton lowered Jack as carefully as they could to the mattress, and Cotton excused himself silently, heading back into the main room and tugging the door shut. It opened again half a second later, and Anamaria let herself in.

"How is he?" she asked Gibbs quietly, glancing over at the captain's still body.

"Still not showing any signs of life, other than breathing," Gibbs replied gruffly, sitting down in one of Will's chairs without so much as a by-your-leave. He took out a flask and took a long pull from it.

"What happened?" Will repeated his question from earlier with consternation, his brow furrowing as he looked over at Jack. He could see his face now, and it wasn't much different than it was a year ago. His eyes were closed, and the kohl normally around his eyes was streaked down his cheeks. His hair was a veritable rat's nest--more so than it used to be; the storm probably had a lot to do with that.

"We were caught up in the hurricane," Gibbs answered, drawing Will's attention away from Jack and onto the older man, who was propping his elbows on the table and fiddling with his flask. "Jack kept pushing for us to keep going, said that we had to get to the nearest port because if we didn't, the storm would tear us apart. Even HE knew we couldn't make it through a storm like that alive." Gibbs lifted his flask to his mouth again.

"Since the nearest port was Port Royal, we had to risk it and come here," Anamaria added, taking up where Gibbs had left off. "Jack knew that Norrington would still arrest him if he caught him here, but what Jack was banking on was not getting caught. Anyway, as Jack put it, it was far riskier to stay on the seas with that hurricane coming up right behind us than it was making for land here and hoping Norrington was never the wiser."

"Let's hope he stays that way," Will muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.

Anamaria and Gibbs nodded in agreement, and Anamaria continued. "Well, the storm was moving much faster than it looked, and it overtook us when we were about two miles from shore." She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, looking away and into the dead fireplace against the far wall. Will moved over to it and began getting a fire going.

"During the storm, Jack and Anamaria stayed at the wheel," Gibbs resumed after Anamaria stayed silent for a long moment. "The rest of us were fighting to keep the sails up and keep ourselves from being washed overboard."

Will looked back over his shoulder at the two in time to see Anamaria slowly close her eyes as Gibbs spoke. Will frowned and added a couple of more logs to the fire that he had finally sparked.

"The lookout was trapped in the crow's nest," Anamaria said softly. "He had been up there when the storm hit, and he couldn't get back down because the storm was tossing the ship so badly."

"Jack left the wheel to Anamaria and started to climb up to the crow's nest to help the boy down," Gibbs continued. "It was one of our new boys, a kid barely older than fourteen who Jack had met at Tortuga. Those two had developed an almost father-son relationship, so Jack must have seen the obvious distress the boy was in and went to help him."

There was a long moment of silence. "What happened?" Will asked as the logs caught alight.

"A huge wave hit the ship and almost capsized us," Gibbs said. Will straightened and turned to face them. "Jack fell to the deck, and then was washed overboard."

Will's wide brown eyes flickered over to Jack for a moment before returning to the two pirates at the table. "He fell?" he repeated emptily.

Gibbs looked at Anamaria, noticed the look of weariness and residing fear on her face, and passed her his flask. "It was only Anamaria's quick thinking that saved him."

Will could tell that Gibbs wasn't going to elaborate, and Anamaria DEFINITELY wasn't. "So he was still alive when you managed to get him back onboard?"

"Somewhat," Gibbs conceeded. "He wasn't breathing, but I pounded on his back until he started again. We think he may have some broken ribs. We're not sure."

Will nodded slightly, trying to process all of this information. He moved away from the fireplace and to Jack's bedside. The pirate lay limply on the mattress, his eyes closed, his mouth open slightly; his breath was light and raspy as he breathed out of his mouth. Will lightly placed a hand on the pirate's forehead and pulled it back quickly. "He's burning up," he told the two at the table.

"We know," Gibbs said. "We're not entirely sure why."

"He probably spent too much time in the water," Will murmured, getting up and grabbing a rag. He wet it in a nearby bucket and wiped at the kohl running down the captain's darkly tanned skin. He touched the captain's sleeve. "And his clothes are soaked. I don't think that's helping."

Anamaria seemed to take the hint and rose from her seat, heading into the main room, Gibbs' flask still in hand. As she shut the door behind her, Will could hear Mr. Cotton's parrot squawking.

Gibbs stood and joined Will at Jack's bedside. He reached out and began unbuttoning Jack's vest, but stopped and looked up at the ceiling. Will's gaze followed his.

"The storm is picking up outside," Will muttered. He glanced at Gibbs. "Was it really that bad?"

Gibbs nodded and resumed unbuttoning the vest. "The outer edges of it are the worst. It feels like the wind cuts right through you." He slid his arm underneath Jack's waist and lifted. "Pull that vest off, would you?"

Will carefully slid the vest off and set it on the ground near the fireplace to dry. Gibbs untied the red sash around Jack's waist and tossed it to join the vest.

"Do you have any dry clothes around here?" Gibbs glanced around the bare-bones room.

Will shook his head. "No. They're all at the Governor's mansion."

"What are they doing there?"

Will paused and blushed slightly. "Elizabeth and I...we're getting married. Instead of having me live in this smithy until we do, the governor gave me a couple of rooms at the mansion."

"Oh, I see." Gibbs nodded his head knowingly.

Will blushed even redder. "It's not like THAT," he muttered, picking up the sash and folding it, struggling to hide his embarrassment.

"Well, we'll have to leave him in his trousers and shirt for now," Gibbs said, moving to the foot of the bed to remove Jack's boots.

***

It was several hours later and the hurricane was slamming against the coast and Port Royal with full force when Anamaria emerged from the small side room and into the somewhat noisy main room of the smithy.

Will looked up at her from where he was sitting on a barrel talking to Gibbs. "Anamaria?" he questioned.

She gave him a grim smile. "He's waking up."

Native Warrior (3/?)

Notes: There're a few lines inspired by the movie itself (you'll know them when you read them), and Jack's obsession with his hat is something my mother and I noticed--pirates like hats, especially weird ones. Did everyone see the hat with the feather Will wore at the end of the movie? *shakes head* He's hopelessly lost when it comes to style, I swear.

Chapter Three

Will jumped up from his seat and shoved his way through the pirates to the back room. Jack was lying on the bed with an arm flung over his eyes, presumably to block the light of the fire blazing merrily in the fireplace.

"Jack?" Will said softly.

Jack pulled his arm away from his eyes slightly and looked up at Will with a slight smile. Will inwardly winced. Jack's eyes were red and very bloodshot, probably from the salt water he had fallen into. Jack sat up carefully, wincing a little and looking around.

"Where am I?" the pirate captain asked, looking first at Will, then at Anamaria, who was peering over Will's shoulder.

"You're in my smithy," Will explained, moving into the room; Anamaria followed. Will glanced back at her and sighed to himself, shaking his head slightly. "The crew brought the Black Pearl into port at Port Royal, and I'm hiding you in my smithy until the storm passes."

"The storm, eh?" Jack seemed to notice the wailing wind for the first time. He looked towards the door. "Where's the rest of my crew?"

"In the other room," Anamaria spoke up. "They're staying dry and warm."

"Dry and warm, eh?"

Will glanced at Anamaria again. "Is he in the habit of repeating everything we say?"

The woman shook her head. "No. I think he's still a little dazed."

Jack looked at the door again. "Where's James?" he asked Anamaria, his voice firm for the first time in the conversation.

"He's in the other room, safe and sound."

"Bring him to me."

Anamaria inclined her head to her captain and stepped out of the room. Will heard her call out, and a voice answered.

"So, Will, you've got the smithy to yourself now?" Jack asked, rubbing at the ribs on his left side.

"Yes. Mr. Brown died some time back. I was the only one in Port Royal capable enough to take over," Will answered.

"Good, good." Jack paused as a young boy looked into the room. Jack let out a face-splitting grin and gestured for the boy to enter. "James! Lad! I trust you got out of the crow's nest all right?"

James sat on the ground next to Jack's mattress and nodded obediently. "Yes, captain."

As the two conversed, Will took a moment to look from one to the other. In a mild form of shock. James looked so much like Jack, it would be amazing if they WEREN'T related. The young boy had Jack's sun-darkened skin--which Will was beginning to suspect was mostly a natural color, rather than caused by the sun itself--and dark, almost black eyes. He even had long black hair, though James's hung straight down his back, a little ruffled but DEFINITELY not in the dreadlocks Jack liked to sport. He even had Jack's high cheekbones and was wearing kohl. The only differences Will could notice--other than the dreadlocks--were the fact that James didn't have a mustache or beard, and he was quite a bit younger than Jack.

It was like having a minature Jack sitting on the floor next to the real Jack!

"So you're definitely okay?" Jack was asking James as Will snapped out of his thoughts and back to reality.

"Definitely," James affirmed.

Jack grinned again. James rose from his spot and gave Jack a firm hug, and then sat back down on the ground, looking up at Will. "Hi! I'm James," he offered cheerfully.

"Will." He looked at Jack, then back at James, and then back to Jack. "Are you two...related, by any chance?"

"Not really," Jack replied nonchalantly.

"'Not really'?"

But Jack wasn't going to elaborate, so Will dropped the subject. Jack slowly stood, wobbling slightly on his legs, and both Will and James dove forward to help.

"Where are my boots?" Jack asked, looking down at his bare feet.

"Over there," Will replied, pointing to the boots, which sat near the fireplace.

"And my hat?"

"I--I'm not sure," Will replied, looking over at Anamaria.

She shrugged. "Captain, you may have lost your hat," she said. "We couldn't find it, and you didn't have it on when we pulled you back onboard."

An irritated look came over Jack's face. "I want my hat!" he growled.

James patted his shoulder. "We'll find your hat, Captain," he soothed.

Jack seemed to calm down slightly, reaching up to rub his head. "I feel funny." He staggered his way to the table, picking up his boots on the way, and sat down. Looking up at Will, he gave him a charming look. "Got any rum?"

Will rolled his eyes slightly and grinned. "No. I don't keep alcohol in the smithy."

Jack's face fell. "First I almost drown, then I lose my hat, and now I find out you have no rum?" He exhaled with irritation. "This is the worst day I have EVER had!"

Will looked over at Anamaria to find her supressing a laugh. She headed for the door, the grin still on her face and her shoulders shaking slightly. "I'll go get Mr. Gibbs," she said. James moved to follow.

"James, stay here," Jack ordered. James nodded shortly and obeyed.

Only moments later, Anamaria stuck her head in the door again. "Will," she called softly. Will turned to face her and saw concern written across her cocoa features. "We have a problem."

"What is it?" he asked, crossing the room and approaching her.

"Norrington is at the door," she replied. "I think he'd like to see you."

Will frowned, not understanding at first why this would be a problem but quickly realizing it nonetheless. "What are we going to do with you?" he asked, brown eyes wide.

Anamaria shook her head, then quickly looked around. "I'll get everyone to move into the other room."

"But it's too small!" Will pointed out.

Anamaria arched an eyebrow. "We'll make us fit." She moved off and began murmuring frantically to everyone. Within moments, they were moving into the small room as quietly as possible. Anamaria gave Will a thumbs up. "I've got it handled," she said quietly before going into the room herself.

When everyone managed to cram themselves in the room that was smaller by at least half than the one Will stood in, he pushed the door shut and moved to the main door of the smithy, where several sharp knocks erupted. "I'm coming," he called, reaching up and untying his hair and ruffling it messily. He yanked his vest off and tossed it onto a barrel, then roughly unbuttoned half his shirt. Satisfied that he looked messy enough, he pulled the door open to be greeted by a blast of heavy wind and a windblown Commodore Norrington. "Can I help you?" he asked coolly, forcing a yawn out.

"I hope I haven't disturbed you, Mr. Turner," Norrington said, stepping into the room and helping Will push the door shut.

"I was just sleeping."

"Which would explain why it took you so long to answer my knocking," Norrington replied drolly.

"I ask again, can I help you?"

"We've received various reports and heard several rumors that the Black Pearl is docked here, Mr. Turner."

"And this involves me how?"

Norrington gave him a strange look before turning and looking at some of the tools lined neatly across Will's work tables. He picked up a hammer and studied it before carelessly tossing it back down. Will moved around him and straightened it, scowling at Norrington's red-coated back. "You were involved with the Black Pearl just a year ago, Mr. Turner," he reminded the young man, turning to face him. Will quickly wiped the scowl off his face and looked up at Norrington innocently.

"So what makes you think I'd get myself involved with it again, Commodore Norrington?" he said in a mild voice.

"Because the temptation for Jack Sparrow to come to someone he knows is too great," Norrington commented.

Will thought he heard Jack hiss, "CAPTAIN, it's CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow," from the other room. He coughed harshly to cover the sound.

"Are you ill, Mr. Turner?" Norrington asked, continuing his circuit around the smithy.

"I believe I'm catching something, yes," Will replied, jumping on the opening.

"So you have been getting plenty of rest, yes?" Norrington continued.

Will's frowned to himself; where was the Commodore going with this? "As much as can be managed, yes."

Norrington picked up Will's vest from the barrel where it lay. "Do you leave your clothes scattered around the blacksmith shop often, Mr. Turner?"

"No, actually I do not," Will replied. "I was...hot, so I took it off."

"Mmm-hmm." Norrington tossed Will his vest and smirked a bit. "Mr. Turner, do you typically wear your shoes to bed?"

Will looked down to see that he was still wearing his shoes. 'Damn it all,' he thought to himself before looking up at Norrington and giving him a crooked smile. "Did I give you the impression that I was asleep in my bed?" he asked, setting his vest on his work table and picking up a half-finished sword. He examined the edge carefully as he spoke. "I merely took a nap in a chair in my room, Commodore," he said, idly running his fingers up and down the blunt edges of the sword; even if it wasn't sharp, he could inflict damage with it if necessary.

Norrington almost lost his composure but recovered it as Will set the sword down again. He opened his mouth to say more, but a light sneeze--one that to Will's ears sounded incredibly fake--came from the other room. Will, still looking down at the sword, his face hidden from view by his slightly damp, curly brown hair, felt his eyes widen, especially when Norrington moved towards the door.

"Did I hear something in here?" Norrington asked, reaching for the latch.

"No! No," Will reassured him, moving to stand between him and the door. "Nothing at all. Probably just the wind blowing through a crack."

Norrington narrowed his eyes suspiciously and moved around Will, pulling the latch. He opened the door slowly, his eyes widening again when he found Jack standing before him.

"Hello," Jack said lightly before giving Norrington a swift kick to the crotch. Norrington went down quickly, and Jack reached behind him and ran into the main room of the smithy, dragging James by the arm. "Will, let's get out of here!"

"What about the others?" Will asked, grabbing his vest and throwing it on. He grabbed a sword belt and a sword and hurried for the door.

"What about them?"

Will frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"They've already gotten out," Jack said. "There's a window in your room, silly lad." He picked James up and set him on the high step at the door before jumping up himself. Then he reached down for Will. "We're getting out of here."

"Where can we go?" Will asked as he flung the main door open. Another blast of wind almost knocked him off his feet.

Jack gave him a smile, his gold teeth glinting in the dim light from the smithy. "We're going to go visit some friends of mine!"

"Friends of yours?" Will repeated as the three moved into the street and the wind. Will was annoyed to find that the packed dirt roads of Port Royal had become mires of mud from the rain, and it was nearly impossible to run through it.

"Yes, friends of mine!" Jack shot back, still dragging James behind him; he was having no problems with the mud--his boots were much sturdier than Will's shoes. "It's a bit of a walk, but we'll get there in good time!"

"A bit of a walk?" Will repeated.

"Young William, would you stop repeating everything I say and apply the energy you're wasting on repeating my statements to running a little faster!" Jack shot back, turning to face straight ahead. His eyes widened as he spotted a black hat bouncing across the road, being blown all over by the wind. "My hat!" he exclaimed, lunging forward for it. He missed and had to watch it go sailing down a side street. "We're taking a detour!" he yelled, spinning on his heel and running down the side street.

"Where are we going?" James asked, desperately trying to keep up.

"Jack, we've got to get out of here!" Will added.

"Not without my hat!"

Will growled under his breath and followed Jack as he chased the worn leather hat around the streets. "Would you stop playing around?!"

Jack finally caught the hat, and, grinning, he placed it triumphantly and firmly on his head, heedless of the mud splattered all over it. "We can go now," he informed Will.

Will grimaced at the mucky hat and gestured, rolling his eyes slightly. "Come on, let's go," he insisted, looking down at James, who was grinning up at Jack like he was the greatest man in the world. 'Hero worship,' Will muttered in his mind.

"This day's starting to get MUCH better," Jack said, grinning as he slogged through the mud.

Native Warrior (4/?)

Notes: Things take a mildly historical twist, as I play around with the characters a bit. And Jack shows off his expertise in...fishing?

Chapter Four

Jack stopped James and Will in the wooded areas outside Port Royal. They looked back through the trees at the town once more, and then Jack stepped back from the trees and looked up at the sky as best he could.

"Where are we going?" Will asked, looking at Jack worriedly.

"If I told you, I would have to kill you," Jack said almost cheerfully. Will gave him a strange look, and Jack smirked. "No one knows the exact location of where I am taking you, and that information has to stay safe."

Jack began walking away through the brush.

"Wait," Will said, pushing his way past James and catching up to Jack. "We're supposed to just follow you, in the middle of a hurricane, towards some unknown destination?"

Jack stopped and looked up at him. Then he leaned close. "Is it too much to ask for you to just...TRUST me?"

"Yes," Will shot back immediately.

Jack rolled his dark eyes and glanced at James. "Well, I suppose telling you where we're going won't hurt any," he said to Will. "After all, you're the only one of the three of us who hasn't been there."

"Been where?" Will asked impatiently.

Jack looked back at Port Royal for a long moment, then gestured for both to follow. "I'd like to get a little further from Port Royal before I tell you this. There's no telling WHO could be listening."

The three trudged through the underbrush and driving rain and winds for over an hour before Jack stopped them and moved to the shelter of a large tree. James stood, shivering, next to his captain as Jack spoke in a low voice that could be barely heard over the wind and rain.

"We're going to take refuge with the Ani-Kituhwagi (1)."

"The what?" Will asked.

"Indians," Jack clarified. "The Cherokee. They're all over this area. I've got...friends among them, and they'll give us shelter for as long as we need it."

Will frowned. "You seem to make friends in the strangest places, Jack," he commented.

Jack grinned, his gold teeth dull in the dim light.

***

"So, how did you manage to make these particular friends?" Will asked Jack several hours later. The three had traveled a long distance, struggling through mud and underbrush, and Will was exhausted. His feet hurt--his shoes weren't exactly made for this type of journeying--and he was exceptionally hungry. He realized he hadn't eaten anything since the late breakfast he and Elizabeth had shared that morning.

"Familial relations," Jack replied. "My family hails from their tribe."

"Really?" Will asked. "I didn't know you were Indian."

"Most people don't," Jack muttered. "And it's Cherokee," he corrected after a moment.

"Oh. Sorry." Will paused, then asked, "So, was your mother or your father Cherokee?"

"Both," Jack answered. "My grandparents and great-grandparents, too."

Will's eyebrows arched. "Wow. That's amazing."

The corners of Jack's mouth turned up in a secretive grin.

"What?" Will asked.

Jack shook his head noncommentally.

"No, you're going to tell me," Will pressured. "What's that grin all about?"

"Nothing, nothing," Jack reassured him. "All in good time. You'll find out when we get there."

There was a long moment as the three continued walking.

"So, are you and James related?" Will asked Jack, checking the man's reaction out the corner of his eye.

"Yes," Jack answered, looking back at the young, quiet boy to make sure he was keeping up.

"How are you related?"

"He's my mother's brother's sister's cousin twice removed," Jack said in a monotone, almost serious voice. (2)

Will sensed that Jack wasn't being entirely serious, but he decided to not press the matter. Obviously, Jack thought that it was none of Will's business.

"How long until we get there?" Will asked after waiting a moment to make sure Jack wasn't angry or irritable.

"You're just full of questions today, aren't you?"

Will decided to shut up for now. He fell behind Jack and let James pull even with him. "Hi, James," he said.

"Hello, Will." James grinned up at him. 'Geez, he even has Jack's grin,' Will thought. "Don't mind Jack," James continued. "He's really touchy when it comes to discussing family."

Will nodded absently and looked down at the shorter boy. "So, what were you doing in Tortuga?"

"Well, my mother died about three months ago. She had always told me that the easiest place to find my father would be Tortuga. So, after she died, I went there to find him."

As James mentioned his mother, Will could have sworn he saw Jack's shoulders slump, but he mentally disregarded that. He must have been seeing things.

"Did you find him?" Will asked James, turning his attention back to the boy.

"In a manner of speaking," James answered. He jogged ahead slightly and caught Jack by the sash. Jack turned and looked down at him. "Jack, is there any chance we can get some food anytime soon? I'm getting hungry."

"As soon as we move out of this storm," Jack answered. "It shouldn't be too much longer. The storm was moving pretty fast, and it only just now hit the coast. We should be able to move ahead of it a good ways soon."

Will stared at the boy as James moved to walk beside Jack. James was so much like Will, it was amazing. Both had lost their mothers, and both had gone on a search for their fathers. Of course, James was apparently lucky enough to find someone, even though he hinted it wasn't quite his father. Maybe Jack was James' uncle or something.

Will continued to ponder this mystery as the three drew closer and closer to their destination.

***

Jack stopped them several hours later. They had managed to get well ahead of the storm, and it was time for a rest. All three were disheveled, soaked, shivering, and starved. Jack looked to be weighed down by the weight of his wet clothing, and James seemed to be having seizures, he was shivering so hard.

Will was faring no better. He felt like he would never stop shivering. His feet hurt so badly, he felt like he was hobbling like an old man whenever he took a step. His sword seemed heavier than usual on his hip, and his hair hung in tangled curls around his face.

Jack motioned to a fallen tree. "Will, sit there for now. James, help me find some buckeye."

James nodded. "Yes, sir." He scrambled off into the underbrush.

"Be sure to get as much of the roots as possible!" Jack called after him.

"What are you going to be doing?" Will asked, rubbing his right ankle and wincing.

"We, my young William, are going to be catching some fish."

"With a plant?"

"Yes, with a plant." Jack moved around as he spoke, examining plants and passing them up as necessary. "In particular, with a buckeye shrub."

"What do you need the buckeye shrub for?" Will asked curiously, moving to the other ankle.

"When pounded, the roots bruise, and when put into the water, they stun the fish, making them easier to catch," Jack explained. "That's a little over-simplified, but that's probably the easiest way to explain it. You'd have to see it to really understand."

James burst through the underbrush just then, a plant firmly in hand. "I found one!" he said happily, handing the plant to Jack.

"Good job, James," Jack said approvingly, carrying the plant to where Will was sitting. He pulled took out the knife he kept in his boot and sliced the leaves and stems off the plant before setting the roots down on the log. Then, he stabbed a hole in the roots. "Not very traditional, but it will work for now," he commented to James. James grinned and took the roots.

"I want to plant them," he said as he raced away from Jack and Will, heading towards the stream nearby.

Jack motioned for Will to stand. "Come watch," he said.

Will followed and watched as James waded into the water. He dug a small hole in the silt below the waterline and "planted" the roots. They were weighed down with a rock, and he waded back out.

Within moments, several fish had floated to the top of the water. James waded in to retrieve them.

"Are they dead?" Will asked Jack.

"No, only stunned," Jack responded. "Get the buckeye out of the water!" he called to James. "Don't leave it in, or it might kill more fish than we need."

Jack took the fish from James and moved back to the log. After spending half an hour gutting and cleaning them, he managed to get a very small fire going, and the three roasted the fish and ate them quickly.

As they were finishing up, Will startled as Jack jumped to his feet. "There's someone near," he muttered to Will, stamping out the fire and drawing his sword in one movement. "Keep an eye on James." He moved off into the trees.

"What's going on?" Will asked James.

"I'm not sure," James replied. "But if Jack says there's someone out there, then there's someone out there."

Suddenly, Jack came running out of the trees and gestured for them to follow. "Let's go. Quickly," he urged.

"What's wrong?" James called as he and Will followed.

"Iroquois and Catawba," Jack replied urgently.

"Oh, no," James whispered.

"Who are they?" Will asked, completely clueless.

"The Cherokees' greatest enemies," Jack replied simply. "That's the only way you would understand it. I'll give you a history lesson later."

"Jack! Look out!" James yelled out.

Jack ducked as something flew overhead, and then he wheeled around and found himself facing an entire band of Iroquois.

"James!" Jack called. "Take Will to the others. I'll hold these off as long as I can."

"Jack, no," Will said, drawing his own sword and moving to stand beside Jack. "You can't defeat all of these on your own."

"Get James out of here," Jack insisted.

"No," Will repeated. "I won't have you stand against them alone."

Jack rolled his eyes and plunged into the fray. Will followed.

(1) "Ani-Kituhwagi" is a phrase the Cherokee sometimes call themselves. It is reputed to mean, "the people of Kituhwagi." Kituhwa was the name of an ancient Cherokee city near Bryson City, North Carolina, which was the center of the Cherokee Nation. The common phonetic spelling today is "Keetoowah."

(2) "Mother's brother's sister's cousin twice removed." I must thank Nicole for this line. Thanks, Nicole!

Native Warrior (5/?)

Notes: It was called to my attention that I forgot to mention something rather important in the Notes from chapter four. So I'm mentioning it now. When I began writing "Native Warrior," I was unaware of exactly where Port Royal was. So what I ended up doing was setting Port Royal on the coast of what we now call Florida. I apologize for any confusion this may have caused. And, as you may quickly learn, I have a penchant for beating characters up, no matter what I'm writing. That talent (if you could call it that) will begin to show itself in this chapter. And now, on with the show!

Chapter Five

Elizabeth paced back and forth near the governor's mansion's front entrance, worriedly peering out windows whenever she passed one. Governor Swann stood nearby, not pacing but watching his daughter fret.

"He should have been home by now," Elizabeth was saying to Swann, wringing her hands together and looking out of another window.

"Elizabeth, dear, the boy knows how to take care of himself," Swann said, repeating himself for what seemed like the fiftieth time. "I'm sure he's fine."

Elizabeth only shook her head slightly and looked out another window. Swann sighed and headed for the parlor. Elizabeth, now alone, looked out another window, then frowned to herself.

'Will wouldn't do something like this,' she thought to herself, turning and heading for the staircase. 'He would at least find a way to send word. Something's wrong.'

She made her way to her bedroom and pulled out a small satchel. She began shoving a change of clothes, a knife, and several other small items of use into her bag. If her father wasn't going to be concerned enough to go search for him, she would go herself.

***

Jack opened his eyes and groaned lightly. Sitting up, he looked around him, his bleary eyes refusing to focus at first. When they finally did, he noticed Will crumpled to the ground not too far from him; there was no sign of James.

Jack slowly sat up, wincing slightly as he noticed a gash on his right forearm. He ignored it momentarily, crawling over to Will to see if he was all right.

"Will?" he said quietly, reaching out with his left arm and brushing his fingers over Will's face. Will didn't move. Jack, running his eyes over Will's body in a cursory inspection, realized why.

The shaft of an arrow was sticking out of Will's abdomen.

Jack took out his boot knife and carefully cut Will's shirt partly open, examining the wound. He was wary of pulling the arrow out; to do so might cause more damage. Untucking Will's shirt, he sliced off a long strip of it and wrapped it around the place where the arrow met skin. Shaking his head, he stood, looking around once again.

"James?" he called out, his voice sounding hollow.

There was no answer.

Jack moved away from Will reluctantly, walking around the surrounding trees, searching. When, after half an hour, no sign of James turned up, Jack sighed and moved back to Will. Bending down, he picked Will up and headed through the trees, carrying the taller man rather awkwardly. Mentally, he formed a plan.

He would go ahead to the Ani-Kituhwagi and seek shelter. Hopefully, they could care for Will properly, though Jack had no doubts in that. He knew, from personal experience, that his people were excellent healers and would take good care of Will, remove the arrow, and insure that Will healed properly. After making sure Will was okay, Jack would set out to find James.

Looking up at the trees, Jack sighed again. It was going to be a long night.

***

James ran frantically through the forest, leaping over fallen trees and small brooks and streams, panting and straining with exertion. He glanced back behind him, cursing softly as strands of his dark hair whipped across his eyes.

The fight had been furious. He'd never seen Jack so mad before. Then again, he'd never seen Jack mad; he'd only spent three weeks with the pirate, and in those three weeks, Jack had only been a slightly eccentric, caring man. He'd never seen anyone--much less Jack--fight with such ferocity.

Not to discount Will. James knew that Will had tried his best to protect him from the Iroquois, as Jack had asked. It wasn't Will's fault that an Iroquois with a bow had been hidden in the trees.

After Will had fallen, James had turned and run as fast as he could. He had known Jack would come find him, but his more immediate concern had been to get as far away from his attackers as possible. So he had run and left Jack on his own.

James looked back once more, trying to see if the Indians were following him. He couldn't see anything.

When he turned back, however, he found himself slamming into a person standing in his path. Both of them tumbled to the ground.

He pushed hair out of his face again and looked at the person he had run into. His eyes widened in disbelief.

***

Jack was almost staggering when he finally decided to stop for the night. He picked a secluded spot near a copse of trees and lowered Will to the ground carefully. Easing his own tired body to the ground, he leaned back against a tree.

It was entirely too quiet. Jack had gotten used to James's rambling and giggling; it was actually quite entertaining just sitting and listening to James talk. Jack rather missed it, and it had only been about--Jack looked up at the sky, trying to judge time by the moon--four hours since he heard it last. He really hoped James was okay. He knew the boy was smart and could take care of himself.

And honestly, Jack couldn't understand why he was so worried. He'd never worried about anyone like this before; hell, he didn't even LIKE kids!

He was jerked from his thoughts when Will let out a moan. Moving over to him, he put his hand on Will's shoulder and lightly pressed down. "Will? Don't move. You might be injured further."

Will's chocolate eyes opened slowly. "What happened?" he managed to get out.

"You were shot," Jack replied. "By an arrow. I can't take it out, though; it might tear something up. I'm taking you to the Cherokees for help."

Will's forehead wrinkled as he thought of something new. "Where's James? Is he all right?"

Jack's lips pressed together tightly. "He ran. I'm sure he's fine, though," he added, noticing the worried look on Will's face. "His mother taught him to take care of himself."

Will relaxed back against the ground and grinned up at Jack. But only for a moment. His face contorted with a grimace of pain, and Jack winced inwardly. He'd never been shot by an arrow, but bullets hurt--he had two scars from being shot on the right side of his chest.

"So who was his mother?" Will asked after his moment of discomfort had passed.

Jack shook his head noncommentally.

Will frowned. "Jack, come on. You're not going to feed me a line like that and then not comment when I ask you about it."

Jack sighed and shifted his gaze to the trees across from him. "His mother was one of my people, a quiet woman who was rather, well, high-ranking in the tribal society." He paused, still staring emptily at the trees. "She was killed by the Iroquois."

"I'm sorry," Will said. And before he thought about it, he opened his mouth and asked, "Did you know her?"

Jack sighed. "Yes." His gaze moved from the trees and back onto Will. "She was my wife."

***

Author's End Notes: Now how's THAT for a cliffie? Ah. Sorry so short this time; I've been busy. I made it as long as I could, though.

Native Warrior (6/?)

Notes: More beating up of characters in this section. I sort of feel sorry for them sometimes. Sort of.

Chapter Six

"Your wife?" Will repeated after a long moment of tense silence in which he stared up at Jack and Jack looked awkwardly away from him.

Jack sighed and pulled a knee to his chest. "Yes, my wife. It was. . .an arranged marriage."

"Oh." Will nodded understandingly. "Did you know her before you got married?"

"No," Jack answered. "She was from another clan. We don't marry into the clan we're from," he explained as he saw Will's forehead wrinkle.

"I get it," Will said. "I think I do." He paused for a moment, then asked, "What clan are you from?"

"Anitsisqua," Jack answered. "The Bird Clan. My wife was a member of the Aniawi, the Deer Clan. Apparently, many thought we were a good match. We eventually produced James. After that, I was sent to carry a message to Tortuga, I was pulled into piracy, and I never saw her again."

"I'm sorry," Will murmured.

Jack shrugged. "I'm not sure if I am or not," he replied after a moment.

"Does James know this?"

The pirate shook his head. "No. He thinks I'm his uncle."

Will frowned. "Is it wise to keep him thinking that?"

"Probably not," Jack acknowledged, moving a little closer to Will. "But it's for his safety. It's not good for him to have a father who's a wanted man." He gestured to the shaft in Will's stomach. "Let me take a look at that. I want to make sure it's not getting infected."

"All right." Will lay still as Jack took out his boot knife and carefully sliced his shirt away. He winced as Jack lightly prodded at the wound.

"I'm no healer, so I can't do anything about this," Jack muttered, almost to himself. "There's dirt in it."

"What?" Will started to sit up but winced and immediately lay back down.

"There's a little dirt in the wound, I think," Jack told him, continuing his careful prodding. "That can cause infection. I'm not a healer, though, so I don't want to do something that will damage anything further. Do you think you can hang on until we reach my clan?"

"I think so," Will replied, staring up at Jack with wide eyes.

Before he even thought about it, Jack brushed his fingers lightly against Will's cheek. He jerked his hand back as if burned, then mumbled, "You should rest," before backing away a bit and leaning back against his tree. "I'll give you a few hours before we set out again."

"Thank you," Will replied, shifting slightly to get more comfortable and closing his eyes. He opened them again a moment later. "How much further to we have?"

"Not too much," Jack replied simply, situating himself against the tree trunk. He drew his sword and lay it next to him within hand's reach. "We'll hopefully reach it tomorrow, if nothing delays us."

"What could possibly delay us?"

But Jack didn't answer. Will, after staring at him for another long moment, realized that he must have fallen asleep, so he shrugged mentally and relaxed. Within moments, he was asleep himself.

After about five minutes, Jack's dark eyes opened. He hadn't fallen asleep; he'd remained wide awake as Will had dropped off into sleep himself, and he had waited to make sure the younger man was asleep before he opened his eyes. He stood and, picking up his sword, began a silent inspection of the surrounding area. Satisfied that there was no one nearby, he went back to Will and sat down beside him.

Will looked peaceful as he slept. Jack found himself reaching out and running his fingers through tangled brown curls. His thumb grazed against Will's forehead, and he smiled slightly to himself. He shifted slightly on the ground and winced as the sting in his forearm became more pronounced. He looked down at his blood-stained sleeve and grimaced. He was glad Will hadn't noticed his injured arm, though he couldn't guess why he would feel so.

Jack's thoughts wandered to James. He was worried for the boy. Though James had been taught how to survive in the wilderness since he was old enough to walk, talk, and understand, Jack was still worried. He supposed it came from an instinctual reaction of knowing his son was running amok in the forest without a weapon and no food whatsoever. Well, Jack and Will were in a similar situation, not having any food. . .

Jack shook his head to himself and looked back down at Will. The younger man continued sleeping, undisturbed by Jack's mental thrashings. And Jack, astonished at himself, leaned down and lightly brushed his lips against Will's forehead.

***

Elizabeth pushed her way through the brush, pack strapped to her back, hair a tangled mess, and hands and arms scratched up. She had been traveling for at least two hours through the woods in the direction Jack and Will had last been seen. She was tired, more than a little hungry, and definitely thirsty, but she was wary about stopping to eat some of the little food she had grabbed as she left; she didn't know how far she would need to go, so she would ration her food carefully.

Her father would be worried, she knew, but she hoped he wouldn't send anyone after her. Yet. She could take care of herself, as she had proven a year ago, when Barbossa and his pirate crew had kidnapped her. She didn't need his help yet.

Movement in the woods to her left startled her, and she whirled around to face it. There was nothing there. Uneasy, she began walking again.

Then someone grabbed her roughly from behind. She let out a shriek, then everything went black as something smashed against the back of her head.

***

As the sun began to peek through the trees the next morning, Jack gently shook Will awake. "Time to wake up, Will. We need to get moving again."

Will moaned faintly, not opening his eyes, and mumbled, "I'm not feeling well."

"That's not surprising, what with an arrow stuck in your gut and all," Jack muttered sarcastically, sheathing his sword and kneeling. Bracing himself, he picked Will up. "Will, put your arm around my neck," he instructed. "I can't carry you if you're laying all over the place." Will obeyed, looping his outer arm around Jack's neck and resting his head against Jack's shoulder. Jack winced as Will's forehead came in contact with the side of his neck. "You're feverish," he said to Will, looking down at the man. Will didn't reply. He seemed to be asleep again.

Jack sighed and started walking in the direction they had been going the night before. He knew it would only be a matter of hours until they reached the clan's campsite, and then Will could get the care he needed for the wound in his abdomen.

Jack thought fleetingly of James, then pushed that thought aside. As cruel as it was, James could wait. Will was severely injured, and he was Jack's top priority at the moment.

Native Warrior (7/?)

Notes: Ah, a little action. Finally. Things are heating up. And if you see dialogue that looks like this: "<>", that's just where it's indicated that Jack / whoever are speaking in Cherokee. ^_^

Chapter Seven

The sun was beginning to show through the trees when Jack finally had to stop again. His arm stung, his eyes were heavy with sleep, and his mind felt like it was enveloped in a thick blanket. Will clung to him in a semi-conscious stupor, his eyes half-open and his breathing slightly shallow, shivering with cold.

Jack cautiously lowered himself to a sitting position, settling himself against a tree with Will in his lap. He leaned his head back against the trunk and thought on his present situation.

He was starving; neither he nor Will had eaten anything since the fish he and James had caught. He was exhausted; he hadn't had a wink of sleep in quite a while. His face felt hot, yet he was shivering; it was probably a result of from when he was thrown overboard and from the amount of time he'd spent in the rain. He was stressed; there had been no sign of James since they'd been separated, and he KNEW James would have tried to catch up as soon as everything was clear. He was worried; Will seemed, somehow, to be getting weaker and weaker, though not very quickly. Jack was tired of carrying him, but he refused to let Will walk on his own. And Will's skin was burning up, probably from the same reasons as Jack's was--though Will hadn't been thrown overboard by a storm.

He looked down at Will, who still had his face in Jack's neck. Uncertain, he jostled Will slightly. "Will, are you awake?"

"Sort of," Will replied softly, lifting his head with slight effort and looking down at Jack. "My head hurts."

"So does mine," Jack replied, shifting to make himself more comfortable. 'Well, as comfortable as I can get with Will in my lap,' he thought to himself. "Are you okay?"

Will frowned. "I'm not sure," he answered, his own uncertainty creeping into his voice.

Jack reached up and brushed a dark curl from Will's face. "You're shivering. Are you cold?"

"A little," Will admitted.

Jack smiled slightly and wrapped his arms around Will, pulling him close in an effort to get both of them warm. Will was feverish, his skin incredibly warm, and he was letting off enough heat to chase the shivers out of Jack. That worried Jack even more; he groaned mentally. He didn't need to be any more worried than he was.

Will tilted his head and looked into Jack's eyes. "Jack?"

"What?" Staring into Will's soul-dark eyes, Jack could feel himself melting a little inside as Will continued staring into Jack's eyes thoughtfully. And then Jack did the only thing that felt natural to him. He leaned in and he kissed him. Will's eyes widened in shock at first, but they soon fluttered as Jack's lips pressed gently against his.

Jack's own eyebrows raised in surprise, the entire sweetness of the kiss making him shiver slightly, but not from cold. This was making his heart sing in ways that he'd never experienced before, and that confused him, but he pushed it away and raised his hand to Will's cheek, gently running it down to his neck and through the back of his hair and into silky brown curls.

They were barely even moving, just relishing in the feeling of their lips gently touching, their breath smoothly flowing from each other's mouths. Jack had never imagined a sweetness to be so addicting and intriguing, but the more they gently kissed, the more he just wanted to fall into Will's arms and allow him to completely have his way with him, and this new feeling was making him feel incredibly dizzy and lightheaded.

When Will moved his lips from his, Jack just continued leaning into him, a bit dazed, his eyelids drooping slightly, as Will gently ran his lips over to Jack's cheek and up to his forehead. "Thank you," he finally murmured, sounding completely out of it.

Jack leaned forward, resting his forehead against Will's, to look into the younger man's eyes. "You're welcome," he managed. He smiled slightly, and Will finally raised his eyes to meet his, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Jack found himself completely mesmerized by Will, and for once in his life, he was in a situation where he actually didn't know what to do. All he wanted to do was to lay in Will's arms until he fell asleep, because being in Will's arms and having Will in his just felt so good.

Will leaned over to brush his lips against Jack's cheek, running them slowly down to his neck. 'Oh, wow,' Jack thought, his eyelids fluttering helplessly as Will softly sucked on his skin. He felt goose bumps rising on his arms and a long shiver running down his spine, but he merely let out a low, trembling moan and leaned his head back against the tree. It was almost magical, how everything was so quiet, and yet he could faintly hear the music of birds somewhere above. For some reason, he felt his eyes begin to fill up. He wasn't quite sure why, for showing this side of himself in front of anyone was something he just never did.

"Are you okay?" Will whispered into his ear, his warm breath tickling him, causing Jack to take in a deep breath and lean his head against Will's.

"I'm fine," he mumbled, just allowing himself to be overtaken by whatever world it was that Will had created. He rested his head on Will's shoulder, turning his face into his neck and just softly breathing. "You smell nice," he remarked, inhaling deeply. He felt Will working his fingers through his dreadlocks, so he just closed his eyes and relaxed. In everything he'd ever come to know in this life, this was the only time he'd ever felt so complete inside. He knew that they weren't doing anything exciting or spectacular, but just being there with Will seemed to be enough, for once. This feeling could never compare to anything he'd felt before, for it was so unique and incredible. "I could just...fall asleep here."

"Me too."

He could feel Will's breathing every moment or so, as he watched Will's chest rise and then fall with each breath. Looking up towards his face, Jack ran his tongue over his lower lip and raised his hand to gently cup Will's chin before softly pressing his lips to Will's once more. It was as if Will had taught him an entirely new style of kissing, one so very different from the way Jack used to kiss his wife, and now he couldn't even imagine going back the other way. The way their lips just seemed to move so perfectly together, so delicately and tender he could feel a light-headed daze floating throughout his head. Kissing his wife had always seemed so urgent and desperate, but now, kissing Will was sweet and soft and feathery to the point where he almost wondered if his lips were indeed touching Will's or if they were merely touching his breath.

When Will struggled to pull away from him, Jack's eyes fluttered open to stare back at him, a bit confused.

"I'm sorry," Will quietly murmured.

"For what?"

"For this. For always acting like I could care less about you, when obviously I do. And Jack, I just--"

"Shh," Jack whispered, too exhausted to get into this. "Let's just not talk about that right now, okay? You're injured, and you need rest."

"But I--"

Jack cut him off by pressing his lips to Will's and gently tracing his cheeks with his fingers. "Let it go, Will," he murmured before falling back into him once again, all sense of comprehension and sanity leaving his body, revealing a completely vulnerable and tender Jack, a Jack that he'd never known had existed before.

***

A sharp nudging was what woke Jack up later that day. He opened his eyes and found himself looking into the face of another man. And it was definitely NOT Will.

Then his mind caught up with his eyes, and he realized the man was asking him something. Will was still curled in his lap, shivering slightly. His legs were numb, probably from Will's weight being on them for as long as they'd been asleep. Several other men were prowling around the area, looking behind trees and conversing with each other in quiet voices.

Jack looked up at the man again in confusion, and his mind finally registered what the man was asking.

"Who are you?"

Jack's eyes widened; the man was speaking in Cherokee! He shifted slightly, and the man stepped back a step. "Jack Sparrow," Jack finally answered. "Of the Bird Clan."

The man's own eyes widened, and he knelt beside Jack. "The Bird Clan?" he repeated. "I am from the Bird Clan. You must be the--"

"Yes, I am," Jack answered shortly, interrupting the man. He looked down at Will. "I presume we're close to the camp. My friend is injured and needs care as soon as possible."

"Come," the man said. "We'll lead you to the camp. You and your friend can be examined by the healers, and you can get rest and food."

At the mention of food, Jack felt his mouth salivating. He shook his head mentally and struggled to his feet, staggering as he put weight on his numb legs. The man reached out to take Will from him, but Jack twisted away. "No," he said simply, and the man nodded in understanding before signaling to the other men in the area.

"Walk with us," he instructed Jack, moving away towards the head of the small procession.

"Wait!" Jack called. The man stopped and turned. "There was a boy with us, fifteen years old. He looked like me. Have you seen him?"

The man consulted with another man and nodded. "Yes. John saw him. He said he was with some men in red shirts, being led by one man wearing a blue shirt." He began walking again.

Jack felt his breath catch in his throat as he stumbled after the men. His stomach sank. Norrington had James.

Native Warrior (8/?)

Notes: Ah, a little action. Finally. Things are heating up.

Chapter Eight

Jack stopped short as his eyes caught sight of a motley collection of small wooden huts bunched in a rather small clearing. Will shifted in his arms slightly, and he gripped him tighter.

The camp was definitely smaller than from what he remembered when he last saw it fifteen years ago. There were no women or children in sight, which, judging by his memory, was rather unusual. Near the center of the small camp, an elderly man was emerging from a small hut and moving towards them, smiling and holding his arms out to the leader of the scouts who had found them.

"Blackbird!" he called in Cherokee. "You have returned!"

Then the old man stopped short, noticing Jack standing behind Blackbird, Will cradled in his arms. His old eyes squinted, looking Jack over, then they widened.

"Jack?" the man whispered. "Is that you?"

Jack nodded, reluctantly relinquishing Will to Blackbird's arms and slowly approaching the old man. They stood staring at each other for a long moment as Blackbird carried Will swiftly away, his men following.

Finally, the old man reached out with a shaky hand and gently caressed Jack's cheek. Then, with one swift movement, they leaned forward and tightly embraced each other.

"Jack, it's been too long," the old man said as they pulled apart.

"Fifteen years," Jack added. He paused. "I never meant to be gone for so long, Father."

"Where have you been, Jack?"

Jack stared for a moment. Could he really tell his father where he'd been for the past fifteen years? Could he tell his father what he'd done?

He couldn't. What he'd done and the things he'd participated in over the past fifteen years would do nothing but shame his father--and possibly his whole family. The last thing Jack wanted was to hurt his father.

"Can we...discuss it later, Father?" Jack asked hesitantly. "I'm not feeling well."

Jack's father reached out and took his hand, leading him to his small hut. "I will get you some food and water," he said quietly.

"Thank you, Father."

"And someone to look at that arm," he added.

Jack glanced down at his injured arm, seeing the red stains marring the white linen of his shirt sleeve. The pirate shrugged and followed his father into the hut. "It's not that bad," he assured his father, blinking slightly in the hazy darkness of the hut. "I've had worse."

"That's not something I really want to hear," his father muttered. He looked Jack up and down. "I'd better get you some dry clothes." He disappeared out of the hut.

Jack sat down on a soft pallet in the corner of the room and sighed. And then he realized that Blackbird had run off with Will. Curious, he stood back up and slipped out of the hut; picking a building that stood apart from the others, he headed towards it.

The door was slightly cracked, and Jack peeked through and saw two older men hovering over Will's semi-conscious form, which lay on the ground near a fire. The two men were whispering back and forth, and one of them was carefully cutting Will's shirt off of him. The arrow's shaft looked grossly out-of-place in Will's skin.

A hand touched Jack's back, and he whirled around, reflexively unsheathing his sword. As he realized it was only his father, he relaxed and put the sword back in its proper place.

"Come, son," Jack's father whispered, looking into the room momentarily before tugging at Jack's arm. "I have clothing and food for you."

Reluctantly, Jack allowed his father to pull him away from the healers' hut and back towards his own.

***

Elizabeth huddled in the corner of her own small hut quite a few miles away, her knees drawn to her chest and her arms around them; her head hurt. Her eyes warily followed the two women who were in the hut with her; they were conversing in a language Elizabeth did not recognize, and she was quite adept at learning languages.

One of the women turned and said something to her in her strange language. Elizabeth merely stared up at her in confusion, huddling further into her corner.

The woman looked at her companion and shrugged. They conversed a moment more, and then one of them slipped out of the hut. The remaining woman, the one who'd spoken to her, stepped closer and sat on the ground a few feet away.

"You speak this language, yes?" the woman asked.

Elizabeth's eyes widened. "Yes, yes I do," she said. "You have to help me. These men, they kidnapped me!" Wryly, Elizabeth thought, 'I'm getting a strange sense of déjà vu.'

"You were lost in the woods," the woman replied slowly. "Our men found you. They brought you here so we could help you."

"I don't want to be here," Elizabeth shot back almost desperately. "I want to go home."

The woman rose to her feet and headed for the door. She turned back and said quietly, "This is your home now," before going outside.

Elizabeth sighed in despair and lay her head down on her knees. Quietly crying, she wondered to herself where Will was and why he hadn't come to rescue her yet.

***

Jack sat on the floor in his father's hut, carefully balancing a bowl of stew on his knee and holding a large piece of bread in his hand. His other hand held a spoon, with which he hungrily shoveled stew into his mouth. His father watched, eyebrows raised in amusement.

"Slow down," he told his son. "You'll choke." He passed Jack a piece of deer meat, and Jack set his bread on his other knee and snatched it from him, taking a vicious bite from the meat. Jack's father chuckled. "You must have gone a while without food."

"Just a day," Jack replied. "I feel like I could eat an entire deer, though." He went back to his stew and bread, busily eating.

Jack's father reached out and lightly ran his fingers down the chain of beads and trinkets hanging on the left side of Jack's face. "You still have this?" he questioned. Jack nodded, his mouth full. He hurriedly swallowed and started coughing. His father sighed and passed him a cup of water. "I told you to slow down," he reprimanded lightly.

"Yes, yes," Jack said, his voice scratchy. He cleared his throat and set the water down beside him. Then his fingers fondled the end of the chain. "I wouldn't just toss this out, Father," he responded. "Mother gave it to me." He touched the charms hanging from above the scarf on his head. "And I still have the one you gave me."

There was a moment of silence, in which Jack continued eating and Jack's father continued staring at his son. Finally, he asked, "Did James ever find you?"

At once, Jack's face changed from peaceful to somber, and he sighed, dropping his spoon into his bowl. "Yes, he found me," he replied quietly.

Jack's father looked at him expectantly. "So where is he?"

Jack hesitated. "I...I don't know," he said after a moment. "I know who has him, but I don't know where they took him." He looked down at his lap. "We got separated," he explained simply.

His father stared at him in stunned silence for a long moment. Then he sighed. "He will find his way here, son," he said. "James is a very determined young man. I've seen him get himself out of more sticky situations than I ever dreamed he could get into." He paused, then added, "He reminds me of you at that age."

Jack smiled ruefully. "That's what frightens me," he muttered.

His father chuckled. Then he turned serious again. "That wasn't Billy you returned with," he observed, "though he did look much like him."

Jack swallowed hard, then looked up at his father. "That was Billy's son William. Billy is dead," he said in a monotone.

"Dead?" his father whispered, the news hitting him like a pile of bricks. "What? How?"

"He was...killed by pirates."

Jack's father rose from where he was sitting and moved to a corner of the room.

"Father?" Jack asked softly. He noticed his father's shoulders shaking, and he stood, moving to him and wrapping his arms around him from behind. He lay his head on his father's back and murmured, "I'm sorry."

A few sniffles answered him before his father lifted his bowed head. "A father should never have to hear the news of his son's death," he murmured. "Never."

Jack stepped away from him and walked to the pallet. "I'd better change clothes," he said, pushing thoughts of Bill from his mind as he picked up a dry white shirt. He held it up. "Where did you get this?" he asked his father curiously. It was similar to the one Jack already wore.

"I traded for it about a year ago," he answered in a slightly choked voice. He cleared his throat. "And the pants."

Jack smiled a lopsided smile and set the shirt down. He began unfastening his belts and unbuttoning his vest. Within moments, he had his shirt removed, and he was leaning down to pick up the clean one when a cold hand set itself on his back.

"You look like you've been in much trouble over the years," his father murmured. Jack shivered; he could feel his father running his fingers lightly over the scars crisscrossing his back.

"Yes, I have," he replied, straightening with the shirt in hand. He shrugged it on. "I'd rather not talk about it, though. Not yet." As he buttoned the shirt, he said, "It's quiet here. Where are all the children? And the women?"

Jack's father relaxed slightly. "I sent them to our northern brethren," he replied. "They are much safer there. As soon as we have the chance, we will be moving also."

Jack nodded. "Mother is with them?" he asked.

"Yes. I sent her by ship with them."

Jack nodded again and sat down to remove his boots. "When Will gets well and we go to find James, I will take him to her," he said. "James will be safer staying with his grandmother. Up there, he won't be able to get into much trouble."

"You're going after him?" Jack's father asked.

"Of course," Jack replied. "He's my son. I'm not going to leave him out there by himself."

Jack's father shook his head. "He'll be fine."

***

"Let me go! Let me go!" James struggled against the red-coated men who held his arms behind him. He kicked his legs out at Norrington as the man came close. Then he calmed down and looked up at Norrington, grinning wickedly. "My father's going to hunt you down, you know," he said calmly. "And when he does, you'll regret you ever touched me."

"Shut up or I'll gag you," Norrington ordered.

"You can't gag me," James shot back. "You haven't gotten what you want out of me."

"Fine," Norrington sighed out. He rolled his eyes and looked down at James, asking for what felt like the hundredth time, "Where were you, Jack Sparrow, and William Turner going?"

"It's CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow," James replied snidely.

Norrington threw his hands up in exasperation. "We're going back to Port Royal," he said to his men. Then he looked down at James. "We have a pirate to hang."

Native Warrior (9/?)

Notes: Jack's father gets a name (finally). And we meet the healers, who are much like the Cherokee versions of Murtogg and Mulroy. A moment is shared, news is told, bickering is barely tolerated, and our two brave heroes set out on their new adventure. Enjoy! Feedback is welcomed and highly appreciated.

Chapter Nine

Jack's father stood outside the small hut his son slept in, speaking quietly with one of the scouts who had just returned to the camp. Sighing, he waved the man away and turned towards the hut.

Before he could push aside the blanket covering the doorway, one of the healers called out his name. He turned and saw him approaching with arms outstretched.

"Halon," the healer named Tooantuh greeted, embracing him.

Halon smiled slightly and gave his own greeting in return.

"I bring news of the injured boy Jack brought with him," Tooantuh said softly, leading Jack's father away from his hut and towards the healers' hut. The other healer, Dioz, stood outside the doorway, a worried look on his face. Tooantuh looked him up and down. "Why aren't you in the hut with the boy?"

"Because he forced me to leave," Dioz said simply.

"What does THAT mean?"

"It MEANS, my dear Tooantuh, that the boy is panicking because he doesn't know where he is--or who we are." Dioz smirked at him before leaning against the edge of the doorframe.

Halon moved past the two bickering healers and towards the doorway. He peeked in to see Will sitting in the corner, his brown eyes wide. "William?" he questioned softly, and Will looked up at him, startled.

"How do you know my name?" he asked in a slightly shaky voice.

"Jack told me," Halon replied. He knelt near Will and held out his hand in a friendly, non-threatening gesture. "I am Jack's father, Halon." He looked towards Will's side. "That wound must be hurting."

"Not much," Will said, relaxing some. "It's bad, but I can handle it."

"Not without rest, you can't," Halon replied, smiling as he stood. He helped Will to his feet. "Would you like to stay here, or do you want to stay with Jack?"

"With Jack," Will answered. "I know him, at least. I think I'd be more comfortable there."

Halon nodded and headed for the door. Will hobbled after him, clutching a hand to his bandage-covered side. Halon pushed Tooantuh and Dioz aside; they were both bickering with each other, as usual. The two could never seem to make up their minds about how to treat a patient. There was one thing certain, though: when both saw Will up and following Halon, they lunged after him, babbling about rest and blood and wounds.

Halon quickly interjected. "The boy needs rest, certainly," he said to the two healers, who immediately stopped arguing and listened. "Which is why I am taking him to stay with someone he is familiar with, so he CAN get rest. I order you two to stay here and leave him alone." And then, as if on second thought, he added, "And leave me alone. I do not think I can tolerate your arguing tonight. You sound like a couple of grackles (1)."

The healers' mouths dropped open, but for once, they were silent as Halon led Will to his hut. He held the blanket away from the door for him. "There you go. Just pick a spot and make yourself comfortable. I will be staying with my cousin over there." He pointed to another low hut. "Just in case Jack needs to know where I am," he added before shooing Will inside.

***

Jack had been sleeping peacefully for the first time in at least a month when a slight cough and a soft gasp from the direction of the door woke him up. Grunting irritably, he sat up and reached for his sword, which lay beside his pallet on the ground. Then he seemed to come to his senses and looked up to see Will standing awkwardly right inside the door.

"Your father brought me here," Will explained softly. "He thought I'd rest better if I were around someone I knew."

"Oh," Jack said simply, still half-asleep. He rubbed at his face and looked around blearily before patting the pallet beside him. "Have at it."

After a long moment of hesitation, Will sat down on the edge of the pallet near Jack's feet. Jack pulled his feet up so Will would have more room. "Jack?"

"What?"

Will's forehead creased. "Why does everyone else have such strange names, while you're Jack and James is...well, James?"

The corner of Jack's mouth turned up slightly. "James and I have our own 'strange names,' as you so put it. We just use 'Jack' and 'James' outside of the camp. I've gotten used to Jack, so I go by it now."

"Oh." Will paused. "What's your other name?"

"Chayton."

"What's it mean?"

"Falcon." Jack watched as Will shifted slightly, wincing. Jack frowned and moved closer to him. "Are you okay?"

"My side hurts," Will admitted. "I didn't know getting shot by an arrow would hurt like that."

Jack smirked. "I've never actually been shot by one, but I've had one graze my arm." He touched his upper right arm lightly. "That burns, but it didn't really hurt. At least, in my opinion, it didn't."

As Jack spoke to Will, he was beginning to have his doubts. Their moment beside the tree before they were found by Blackbird and his men...he guessed it was only done in a fit of insanity, and Will only participated because he was delirious from his injury. That was Jack's guess, anyway.

So, of course, that guess was tossed out when Will himself let out a slow, shaky breath and leaned forward. Placing his hands on either side of Jack's face, he leaned in to kiss him.

Jack felt an overwhelming dizziness rush through his head. His hands slid down to Will's waist, where they then slid around to his back, and he pulled Will closer to him. His mind completely disregarded any sort of caution that was ringing in his head like extremely loud bells.

Then Will suddenly pulled back as a figure entered the hut. Jack reflexively moved away from Will and looked up at Halon, who'd just entered the hut with a grim expression on his face.

"Jack, we need to talk," Halon said.

Will started to get up. "I'll leave."

"No, stay," Jack said, catching Will's wrist and making him sit back down. Then he looked at his father. "What is it?"

Halon's eyes closed slowly; he spoke in a quiet voice. "I just received word from Blackbird, who heard from one of his scouts who usually stays near Port Royal to gather news. James has been seen."

Jack sat up straighter. "He has?" he asked hopefully. "Is he all right?"

Halon shook his head slowly. "He was being held prisoner by men in red coats, who were being led by a man in a blue coat. They took him to the prisons."

Jack felt his breath catch in his throat. "Father," he said nervously, his eyes wide.

"He is scheduled to be hanged in the morning."

Jack leaped to his feet. "No!" he exploded. "I won't let that happen!"

Halon caught Jack by the arm as the pirate moved to gather his things. "You can't go alone, Jack! You'll be killed! And you'll never make it to Port Royal in time. It's at least a two days' walk from here."

"He'll make it," Will spoke up quietly. Both Halon and Jack looked down at him, and he stood. "I know Jack. He'll make it."

Jack grinned at Will before grabbing the articles of clothing he'd stripped off right before going to sleep. As Halon went out of the hut to inform Blackbird of Jack's plan--if one could call it that--Will caught Jack by the arm as he fastened his belt on.

"Jack, I'm going with you," Will said.

Jack shook his head. "No. You're hurt."

"I'm fine," Will insisted. "Just let me help. At the very least, I can be a diversion."

Jack shook his head again, but this time in resignation. "Okay, fine. Whatever. Just get your things and let's go. We don't have all day." He peeked out the blanket covering the door. "Or night, rather," he said, seeing the darkness covering the camp.

Will grinned and left the hut to head to the healers' hut to retrieve his things. He'd have to put up with Dioz and Tooantuh and their bickering...but it was worth it if it meant he could go with Jack to help him save James.

***

As Jack and Will got ready to set out, they realized one thing they hadn't counted on: Dioz and Tooantuh wanting to go WITH them in order to keep an eye on their patient.

"They'll slow us down!" Jack snapped at Halon, making a sweeping arm motion towards the two healers, both of whom Will was currently attempting to avoid. "We need to get to Port Royal with all possible speed, and we can't do that if we have two very old healers with us who aren't exactly in the greatest of shape!"

Dioz and Tooantuh stopped their attempts to check on Will's injury long enough to glare at Jack.

"I'll have you know we aren't THAT old," Tooantuh snapped.

"I agree," Dioz said. "I'm only sixty-seven. Tooantuh is sixty-six. We aren't 'very old.'"

"The hell you're not," Jack muttered where only Will could hear. Will snickered and carefully dodged Dioz again.

"Dioz, I'm fine," Will told him, moving closer to Jack; the healers seemed to be wary of the pirate for some reason, so Will naturally wanted to stick close to him. "Your work on my side has done wonders. I'll be fine."

Jack heaved a very irritated sigh and gestured for Will to start walking. "Come on, Will. I don't have time for this mess." He and Will walked out of the camp, Dioz and Tooantuh on their heels. Jack turned around sharply and barked, "Stay here!"

Tooantuh and Dioz stared, wide-eyed, as Jack broke into a sprint into the trees, Will following at about the same speed.

"I told you he was fine," Dioz said pointedly to Tooantuh.

"No, you didn't," Tooantuh shot back. "/I/ was the one who said he was fine!"

Halon rolled his eyes and walked away from the two bickering healers.

(1) Grackles: a very loud, noisy bird that resembles a blackbird. At least ten of them come into my yard every morning to steal my dog's food. Apparently, they have an affinity for Purina. ^_^

Native Warrior (10/?)

Notes: Aww. A sweet little moment in the life that is Jack's. Oh, and Will's there too. Enjoy! Feedback is welcomed and highly appreciated.

This chapter was written while listening to "Falls on Me" by Fuel and was inspired mostly by that song. Just in case you haven't heard the song, I would highly recommend it. It's a beautiful song, and I thought the lyrics fit this chapter well, especially the lines in the chorus that go: "And all of your weight / And all you dream / Falls on me, it falls on me / And your beautiful sky / The light you bring / Falls on me, it falls on me." There's a few other random lines in it that go well, too.

Anyway, on with the story!

Chapter Ten

Will caught Jack by the sleeve, panting and clutching at his side. "Jack, we need to stop for a moment. Please."

Jack slowed and looked at Will. They'd been running nonstop for several hours, and Jack knew that Will was injured; he cursed himself mentally for pushing Will so much after such an injury. "Will, I'm so sorry," he apologized, stopping in a small clearing in the trees. He motioned to Will to sit as he pulled his coat off and spread it on the ground. "There. You can lay down right there."

Will moved to the coat and lowered himself onto it. "Thanks," he murmured, making himself comfortable and laying back on the coat.

Jack sat on the grass beside the coat and smiled slightly. "We'll rest for ten minutes and then get moving again. Is ten minutes enough for you?"

"Yes, of course."

Jack lay on his back and stared up at the moon, which was almost directly overhead. It wasn't quite full--the moon looked as if it'd had a slice taken out of it; Jack thought he remembered someone telling him once that it was called a "gibbous moon," whatever that was. It was glowing orange, and it was so large it looked like a dimly lit sun. It was one of those really rare moons that made Jack stop and stare for a while. The night was only lit by the illumination of the moon and the bright twinkling stars above as the two men lay on the grass underneath the massive sky. It was entirely too beautiful for words, and Jack found himself resenting it; why should the night be beautiful and peaceful when his son was mere miles away, probably terrified out of his mind?

Jack turned his head and stared at Will for a while as Will stared up at the sky, his eyes focused intently on the dark blue oblivion, his breathing slowing from his frantic run.

"How long has it been?" Will murmured, stretching his arms a bit and sitting up on his elbows. Jack caught an almost imperceptible wince.

"I don't know. Two or three minutes, maybe?"

"Should we get moving again soon?" Turning to look at him, Will's eyes twinkled in the moonlight.

"In a few more minutes," Jack replied. Smiling, he raised a hand to Will's cheek to brush a curl out of his face. "I'm really glad you followed me."

Will grinned back. "Yeah, me too. You're too helpless. You always need my help." He sighed, looking thoughtful as he observed Jack. "Where's the pirate who I helped break out of jail, who I helped commandeer a ship, who I saved from being hanged? Where's the swagger and the...well, flamboyancy? I miss that guy."

"How in the world could you miss that guy?" Jack asked. "I can be so obnoxious sometimes."

"I'm not arguing with that." Flashing Jack another grin, Will giggled when Jack reached over to pinch his arm.

There was a long pause, and Jack gave Will a serious look. "You know...I have a really, really hard time dealing with you and Elizabeth."

"I know." Will swallowed, his face suddenly serious.

"I guess that was the plan, though," he added knowingly, his dark eyes twinkling and a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"What do you mean?"

"You, trying to make me jealous. I could see RIGHT through you, you know." The grin spread across his face.

"You are insane."

"Oh, really?" Laughing softly, Jack pulled himself up into a sitting position so he could look down at Will.

"I'm sorry," Will said quietly after a moment.

Shaking his head slightly, Jack felt the smile fade from his face as he stared into Will's eyes seriously. "Don't be sorry." He reached over and ran his fingers through Will's hair, pulling them back through his dark curls and gently brushing them across Will's cheek, down to his jawline. "Will?"

"Yeah?"

Jack slid down a bit so he was propped up on his elbow, staring at Will. Will attempted a weak smile as he looked up at Jack, but his lower lip trembled slightly, marring the attempt. Jack reached over to tenderly brush a few strands of hair out of Will's eyes again. Leaning over, he gently pressed his lips against Will's forehead. Then Will ducked his head.

"Are you blushing?" Jack asked teasingly. "Why are you blushing?" Grinning, he reached over and removed the hands that had just flown up to Will's flushed cheeks.

"I'm not blushing," Will mumbled into his hands.

Feeling a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth again, Jack gave into it, then leaned in to press his lips against Will's, feeling a warmth in his chest that only expanded as his hands slid down to Will's waist. Will's legs slid around his waist and pulled him closer, the kiss tender yet passionate at the same time. Jack raised his hands to Will's face, running his fingers along Will's cheekbones and down to his chin and neck. A slight breeze rustled through his messy hair, and he shivered.

Pulling back slightly, Will stared deeply into Jack's eyes for a few moments. "Cold?"

"No," Jack murmured before licking his lips and moving back in to kiss Will once more. Sliding his hands back down to Will's waist, he ran his hands over Will's flat stomach as he began to unbutton Will's shirt. As he ran his lips down to Will's neck, Jack felt Will trembling, leaning his head against Jack's as he nuzzled on Will's skin.

Removing his face from Will's neck, he glanced down as his fingers tugged at Will's shirt; Will arched up, and Jack finally pulled it off completely, tossing it aside as his breathing picked up a bit.

"Something wrong?" Will quietly asked, his eyes connecting with Jack's.

"You're so..." was all Jack managed before urgently pressing his lips to Will's. His tongue began exploring Will's mouth, mingling with his tongue, grazing his teeth and then pulling back to slide across his lips. Moaning softly, Will began tugging at Jack's vest and shirt, pulling it off him and then discarding it, his lips pulling away from Jack's only long enough to take off the clothing before returning.

To Jack's surprise, Will began to lower him down so that he was lying on his back while Will's lips and tongue continued playing with his own. Sliding his arms around Will's waist, Jack rolled over until Will was the one lying on his back, and for a moment he allowed his gaze to roam over Will's body, his eyes taking everything in. The way he smelled, the way his skin felt, the way the night air felt so calming and comforting. It was wonderful; he couldn't think of anything beyond Will.

He lowered himself to Will again, kissing him, then moving his lips down to Will's neck before moving to his chest and settling on his stomach. The rough bandage wrapped around Will's midsection got in Jack's way, but Jack moved on, running his tongue across Will's navel. Still situated where he was, his fingers began fumbling with Will's pants, tugging on them until he had them completely off and shoved to the side. He slid his hands over Will's legs and began kissing his way back up Will's body, over his stomach, back up to his neck and finally to his lips, where they connected hungrily with Will's. He could already feel himself getting so anxious that his stomach was starting to ache, so he put up no resistance whatsoever as Will began tugging his pants off. Within seconds, he'd managed to help Will completely disrobe him, and the two were lying there, nothing covering them except for the cool night air.

Just as Jack began to spread Will's legs apart, he felt a drop of rain tickle the back of his neck, and then a few more. Looking at the sky, he squinted as he felt a few more drops coming down, and within a few moments it was raining lightly. "Oh Lord," he whispered, and then in spite of himself he began laughing. Underneath him, Will was beginning to giggle, too.

"It's raining," Will informed him, as if neither wanted to believe it until one of them voiced that thought aloud.

"I'm not stopping," Jack boldly stated, his eyes sparkling. His skin was quickly becoming damp, but he paid no attention to it as he lowered his lips to Will's once more, one of his hands stretching out to find Will's arm, and he traced that arm with his fingers, finally coming to Will's hand. He linked his fingers with his, running a finger over the scar crossing Will's palm. With his other hand, he gently prepared Will, listening to his gasps and moans. Jack could feel his insides suddenly shaking. Taking in a deep breath, his eyelids fluttered as he began to enter Will, and he heard Will suck in a gasp. Once he'd managed to begin, he could feel his entire body beginning to shake, and he could feel Will shaking too, and he hadn't even moved yet. When he saw that Will's eyes were tightly closed, he began breathing heavily and raised a hand to Will's cheek. "You all right?"

Will nodded, finally opening his eyes to stare into Jack's.

Jack closed his eyes and began to move gently and slowly, so he didn't hurt Will, and before long he'd managed to pick up a steady pace. Moaning softly, he felt his palms sweating in Will's, and the rest of his skin was quickly growing damp, but it was partially the rain, he knew. He could feel the mixture of rain and perspiration sliding down the back of his neck as he continued clinging to Will, each wave bringing an entire new set of emotions.

When Will took in another sudden breath, Jack stopped for a moment. "Are you hurting?"

"No. P-please don't stop," Will managed to get out before wrapping his free arm around Jack's neck and pulling him closer. Jack pressed his moist lips against Will's damp forehead and began moving against him again, feeling something building inside his stomach.

Will began shaking at about the same time he did, and Jack's fingers tightened their hold on Will's as he bit down on his lower lip, letting out a moan and squeezing his eyes shut tightly. He breathed in quickly and rapidly, the entire experience draining him so much, yet giving him so much energy at the same time. Gasping in a deep breath, he felt the heat rising in his stomach. He shuddered helplessly, his insides shaking, his heart racing, his mouth watering as he lowered his face into Will's neck to feel the remaining shivers rippling through his body. Even after it was over, he could still feel himself shaking uncontrollably. He would've blamed it on the rain, but somehow he knew better. Nuzzling his face in Will's neck, Jack just wrapped his arms around him, breathing in deeply and trying to calm himself down. He could feel Will's chest rising and falling rapidly, and his breath kept coming out in quick spurts.

"Are you all right?" he asked Will, his voice a hoarse whisper.

Will didn't say anything for a moment. "I think I'm okay," he replied. A peculiar smile spread across his face, and he tilted his head down to look into Jack's eyes. "You?"

"I'll be okay," Jack said, his smile deepening, and he raised his lips to softly kiss Will before resuming his previous position. His arms tightened around Will as he closed his eyes and softly sighed. Glancing up to the sky for a moment, his eyes roamed over the stars, before they closed again and he exhaled once more.

"Jack?" Will asked after a very long moment of quiet contemplation.

"What?"

"We're going to die tomorrow, aren't we?"

Jack's forehead wrinkled. He hadn't thought of that. "Probably."

Will seemed to relax slightly. He sighed and smiled a little. "Good. I'm glad we did that, then." He lazily flung his arm out to search for his shirt.

"Why?" Jack propped up on his elbows and looked down at Will.

"Because I didn't want to die a virgin." Will managed to find his shirt, and he nudged Jack a little as he tugged it on. "Come on. We need to go save James."

Jack stared into space for a long moment. Had Will just used him? He couldn't figure it out, and he really didn't want to. So, instead of asking, he reached for his own clothing. He'd ask Will about it later. For now, it was time to get to Port Royal and save James. That was more important.

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