A Fish Tale

Chapter 14¼

by

Oasis Herself

It had been a very long night. Neither the seaweed nor the fluid from James's pouch had lasted much longer than a few hours and he had been wakened throughout the night by Jack's cries and restless thrashing.

As the night wore on, the severity of Jack's pain seemed to lessen somewhat. That or perhaps Jack had simply become too exhausted to react any longer. James wasn't sure; but blessedly, Jack had finally slipped into a deep sleep in the early dawn hours.

He opened his eyes finally and was surprised to find Jack awake and watching him quietly.

"How are you feeling?"

Jack furrowed his brow for a moment. "Well, my hair don't hurt."

His tone was light enough, but James suspected his words were far too accurate. He reached out and stroked his finger down a cheek. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"Figured I woke ya enough in the night." He seemed to hesitate for a second. "And I wanted some time to think bout what ya said to me last night." Jack frowned. "You did say somethin' to me last night... din't ya?"

James felt himself flush, but he held Jack's gaze and answered honestly. "Yes."

Jack's eyes softened. "Aye, not a dream then." The corners of his mouth quirked in the barest hint of a pleased grin, but then he looked away and fell silent.

Jack seemed comfortable enough for the moment and the two of them lay quietly, enjoying the temporary reprieve from Jack's pain and listened to the rain.

"Guess that must pose somethin' of a quandary for ya, don't it?" Jack asked after a while, "what with me bein' a pirate an' all."

Jack was baiting him; he could hear it in his voice, and James was tempted to just evade the question entirely. He had already spent much of the long night past contemplating just that quandary and facing his own truth.

James's arrogant view of the world had seen many shifts in the months since Barbossa (and Elizabeth's defection), and his carefully constructed life of black and white had been blurred and softened into a multitude of shades of gray.

Jack Sparrow had slipped quite easily into those gray spaces.

If it been anyone but Sparrow, perhaps someone of Barbossa's ilk, the outcome would have been greatly altered.

But it hadn't. It had been Jack Sparrow. Dishonest... yes; self-serving... yes; annoying pain in the arse at times... absolutely—but Turner had been well founded in claiming Jack to be a good man

James looked over and Jack was studiously avoiding his gaze and had affected an attitude of casual indifference to his answer. He doubted that Jack was aware of it, but it was in these moments that Jack's nature was most clearly revealed to him... and in these moments that Jack was most dear to him.

After a moment's reflection, he rolled up onto his side to look down into Jack's face. "I suppose it could be considered bad form for a Naval Officer to fall in love with a pirate, yes."

Throwing the words incautiously out into the open was well worth the reaction they wrought.

Jack's eyes flew wide and he stared speechless up at him. James almost grinned. Taking Jack by surprise, he thought in smug satisfaction, was always... gratifying.

It didn't last long, and that was to be expected.

"S'pect that's goin' to bloody well ruin me standing amongst the brethren."

"A most lamentable outcome, Sparrow, do forgive me."

Jack shot him a quick grin and then dropped his eyes and furrowed his brow in bewilderment. "Not entirely sure how I managed to get meself from wantin' ya to lovin' ya, mate." He fell quiet for several seconds before raising his eyes to meet James gaze, "I could be in for a rough spot, James, when this is over... a real rough spot."

James leaned down and kissed him gently. "As will I," he murmured softly. He pressed their cheeks together and then dropped his face to Jack's neck to breath in the scent of his mate. He paused at the strangeness of it, breathed deep again, and tasted the change of Jack's scent with his gills.

James pushed himself up and leaned over to examine Jack's tail. Jack tensed visibly. "Do not," he hissed fiercely, "touch my tail!"

The seaweed that the mermaid had packed into the wound had been removed and tossed into an untidy heap at the foot of the bunk.

"Did you do this?"

"Aye. Took a peek when you were still sleepin'."

For the most part, it didn't look too bad and James could see that already there was some healthy pink tissue where healing had begun. The injury itself extended down and just brushed at the leading edge of the fluke where it joined the tail. The torn flesh there had darkened, and when James leaned closer to examine it, he could smell an odd metallic odor.

"I think there might be some infection," James murmured thoughtfully, and then sat up. "It will need to be cleaned."

"No."

James frowned up at him and for the first time noticed just how still and careful Jack was lying. In fact, now that he thought about, he couldn't recall seeing Jack move any part of himself since he had awakened.

"Jack..."

Jack's eyes fluttered shut. "Said no, mate."

James leaned down beside him again and mulled his options. The wound would have to be cleaned.

"I got ship's business I'll be needin' to go over with Anamaria this morning," Jack went on stubbornly. "For the moment, I'm managin', but if I let you start foolin' with it... well, I expect I won't be."

"All right then," James began with a confidence he really didn't feel, "perhaps the first order of business should be to get your gills bathed, and then some breakfast."

Jack gave a minute nod of his head. "I want ta sit up, James."

Despite Jack's determination and bravado, it was a tortuous, pain-filled process. By the time James had Jack propped against the head of the bunk, Jack was panting heavily and his face was pinched and drawn.

"Breakfast." She announced and then by way of explanation, offered, "That damn fool Timothy's been swimmin' and managed to find ya some oysters."

"Oh, good, breakfast in bed," Jack jibed softly. "Can't tell ya what a pleasure it is to see ya finally takin' your first mate duties seriously."

"Don't give me none o' your sass, Jack Sparrow," she snapped. She crossed the room to glare down at Jack and then fixed her glare on James. "Well?" she demanded. "Is he gonna live?"

"Course I am," Jack answered for him. "Ol' Davy Jones don't want me just yet."

Jack's voice was tight and forced and he didn't fool anyone.

Anamaria's manner softened and she studied the angry wound in Jack's tail for a moment before casting a worried look James's way.

"I hope that damn box was worth it," she said softly.

Jack leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "Bugger it all an' I lost it."

"Nay, Jack, ya didn't lose it. I've tucked it up safe."

He cracked open his eyes and looked up at her silently for a moment and then turned his attention to James. "Would ya mind takin' some air, James? I'd like to go over accounts with me first mate, here."

"Of course," James murmured, though he couldn't quite keep the hurt from his voice or the suspicion from his heart. What the hell was in that damn chest anyway?

Jack slid his hand across the moss to grip James's hand and gave it a squeeze. "Maybe take a nice swim," Jack said softly. "Fresh air, the sea... it'll do ya good, luv."

James flinched at the endearment and his eyes darted to Anamaria. Her sharp ears hadn't missed it and she was watching now with narrowed eyes, her gaze going from Jack to their clasped hands and then meeting his gaze. James flushed crimson and watched horrified as her brows rose high in sudden understanding. She looked away with a tight-lipped smirk.

Jack's given it away, James thought in alarm, pulling his hand free from Jack's,

Jack hadn't missed the exchange and when Anamaria looked up at him, still smirking, he tipped his head back to study her thoughtfully through slitted eyes. James could see his tongue working madly in the corner of his cheek as he thought, and when he finally spoke, his tone was light and deceptively mild. "Reckon a woman what's clever enough to be first mate 'o the finest pirate ship in the Caribbean is also a woman what's wise enough to know how to keep her imaginings to herself, eh?"

She darted a sharp-eyed glance at James, before nodding to Jack with a quiet, "Aye, Captain."

Jack grunted his approval. "Now if you'd be so kind as to fetch the ledger, we can get down to the important business a runnin' my ship."

James mumbled a quick farewell, his cheeks still burning and slid from the bunk. Christ, he couldn't get out of there fast enough.

He shut the doors of the great cabin with a sigh of relief and headed across the deck. A warm steady rain fell from laden skies and he brushed his arms at the uncomfortable sensation of fresh water against his skin.

Cotton spotted him and sidling up to him, began gesticulating frantically with his hands. The parrot bobbed just as frantically on his shoulder and when the creature finally called shrilly, 'what do we do with a drunken sailor', Mr. Gibbs stepped forward apologetically.

"I figure he's askin' how Jack be, sir," he offered helpfully.

"Ah, of course."

Other crewmembers on deck edged closer to hear his news, and James raised his voice to carry.

"Your Captain is awake and tallying ship's accounts as we speak, gentlemen."

There was a general murmur of approval and Mr. Gibbs lifted his flask high into the air. "Ta Jack Sparrow, mates," he called with a flourish, "only Pirate Captain what's got more lives then a bleedin' cat."

There was several 'huzzahs' and some backslapping and James saw a rum bottle make it way through the ranks, but none tarried. James was watching with approval as they made their way back to their tasks when he caught sight of Timothy, standing to the side and distractedly scratching at his ankle with the heel of his other foot.

James turned to Gibbs, still standing beside him. "Mr. Gibbs, would you be able to spare Timothy to man a line for me? I'd like to swim and fish for Jack and myself."

He was chiding himself for his foolishness when he entered Jack's cabin.

Jack was exactly where James had left him, propped against the head of the bunk but wearing a wide, foolish grin now. Anamaria was sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bunk and weaving the long strands of what remained of the seaweed into a coarse lover's knot.

Jack looked up when he heard the cabin door shut and grinned even wider, "'ello darlin'," he chirped, cheerfully.

James pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. "Please tell me that you did not eat all of that weed."

"All right, luv," Jack agreed, good-naturedly, "I did not eat all of that weed."

James crossed the room and teetered high on his tail to glare down at Jack. "Don't lie to me, Jack. For God's sake, I can clearly see that you did."

"M' not lyin' luv," he tipped his head back to look up at James, "you din't ask me to tell ya if I did... ya asked me to tell ya I din't." He looked across the bunk to his first mate, struggling to focus his eyes. "In't right, Ana?"

"Aye," she smirked, staring down at the braided pile in her lap.

James climbed up onto the bunk beside Jack. He looked from Jack to Ana and back to Jack again. "What the hell were you thinking?" he hissed at Jack. And then directing his attention back to Anamaria, he demanded, "And what were you thinking to let him?"

"Actually," Jack dropped his chin to his chest and thought for a second and then tipped his face to look back up at James, "what I was thinkin' was, it made my tail feel fine, James. Real fine, in fact." He leered at James suddenly and waggled an eyebrow suggestively. "In fact, darlin' may I even go so far as to say that it feels fine enough to fu...."

James clamped a hand, hard over Jack's mouth.

"Wasted effort, Commodore," Anamaria said offhandedly, as she put the finishing touches on the lover's knot in her lap. "Cap'n's been singing yer praises for the last quarter hour. I hear yer quite accomplished in kissin' eh?" She handed him the completed knot-work and slid from the bunk. "Suppose this must be for you."

James went beet red and waited until the cabin door closed before he took his hand from Jack's mouth and rounded on him. "How could you?" he raged. He wanted to shake Jack, but bloody hell, that would only addle the man more than he already was.

James covered his face with his hands and slid down in the bunk. "You're an idiot, Sparrow," he muttered into his palms.

Jack was quiet for several long minutes before James felt a tentative touch against his arm. "What?" he snapped.

"She'd caught us out already and there was really nothin' for it but to explain." Jack was quiet for a moment. "I'll allow I might a explained a little more than was strictly necessary, and I'm sorry, James."

James sighed and clasped his hands behind his head, staring angrily up at the ceiling of the cabin. "A bit late for that, wouldn't you say?"

"Well, I'm sorry just the same." A moment's pause and, "ya still love me, James?"

James glanced over at him. Jack was looking at him through his lashes and his bottom lip was pursed into a mournful pout. Christ, he looked almost ridiculously contrite. James looked back at the ceiling and sniffed. Adorably contrite, actually. He looked sidelong and Jack was still watching him. "Yes, I still love you."

He sighed heavily and rolled up to check Jack's tail. "Did you eat?" he asked.

"Aye."

He glanced up at him. "I mean food, Jack."

"Aye, that too."

Jack tensed as James leaned close to look at the injury. "Don't touch it," Jack warned.

The healing areas were still looking well, though Jack's whole tail obviously needed to be soaked down in sea water, but that small festering spot by the flukes looked far worse than it had this morning. The flesh around it was nearly black and the sharp metallic odor was stronger.

James sat up. "It has to be cleaned. Now." He held up a hand to forestall any argument. "You're not going to talk your way out of it, Jack, so save your breath"

James slid from the bunk and gathered bucket and rag, ignoring Jack, who—as expected—wasn't saving his breath. James had to admit that Jack had some pretty creative arguments, but this was his mate's well-being at stake and James had no intention of being swayed.

When he returned to the bunk, Jack was clinging to the sides of it in a white-knuckled death grip and his gills were fluttering madly in fear. "Can we not wait a bit longer, James? Aye? Please? "

"I fear it's waited far too long already, Jack." James leaned in to give him a reassuring kiss and caught himself in surprise at the heat radiating from Jack's skin. He pressed his hand to Jack's cheek. "Christ, you've a fever."

James started bathing Jack carefully at his waist, working the cloth up over his chest and around as far as he could reach to the dorsal fin and leaving the actual injury until the last possible moment. Jack gave a shudder at his first touch and tightened his grip on the sides of the bunk.

"Are you all right?" James asked, glancing into his face.

"Aye," he whispered hoarsely, "s'not too bad, yet."

"Talk to me, Jack," James suggested. "Tell me something interesting and take your mind off what's happening."

Jack looked up at James, his eyes fever-bright now. "Well, I reckon there might be something I could tell ya." He paused for a moment. "Something I probably should tell ya."

That didn't bode well, but James only nodded. "I'm listening."

"'Aye well, remember, luv how fierce we needed to mate at first?"

"Yes, I remember."

"Turned out, once we'd each mated, it really wasn't somethin' we needed to be doin' again." He tensed and took a ragged breath when James slid the cloth along his flank, then continued softly, "unless, a course we wanted to... which I did. Want to."

"Are you trying to tell me that further congress between us was our willful decision? It was not nature's demands?"

"Aye." Jack chewed his lip thoughtfully for a moment. "I probably shouldn't a kept that from ya."

James leaned forward to kiss Jack gently on the forehead. "I already knew that, you know."

Jack huffed out a soft laugh. "You just take all the fun outa confessin', James."

James went back to bathing his feverish skin, working his way carefully down the long tail. "Were you planning on ever telling me?" he asked, trying to keep Jack distracted.

"Aye," Jack rasped out. "Was just waitin' for the opportune moment, mate"

Jack was becoming more and more anxious the closer James came to his injury. James could hear the harsh hiss of air through his gills and when James finally reached the edge of the wound, Jack gave a sudden lurch and made a grab for James's hand. James gave him a minute before pressing a quick kiss to his palm and then pushed his hand firmly back down against the bunk.

"When do you suppose the opportune moment might have been, Jack?" James asked softly. He was desperate to keep Jack talking as he flushed the wound with the seawater.

James could see tiny flakes of something, washing up out of the wound and he wondered if it was bits of iron from the brace.

He heard Jack whimper and looked up into his face. Jack's gaze was fixed on his tail and quiet tears were streaming down his cheeks.

"When would have been the opportune moment, Jack?" James pressed.

Jack raised his eyes to his. "After we... after we changed back to men." He caught his breath on another pained whimper. "Oh Christ, James... that hurts so bloody much."

James couldn't see any more of the dark flecks now, and he tossed the rag aside. "We're done, Jack."

He smeared the wound heavily with the fluid from his pouch and slid up the bunk to gather his shaking mate into his arms.

Jack slipped far too easily into a deep sleep and James spent the remainder of that afternoon pressing cool rags to the hot skin and worrying.