A Fish Tale

Chapter 15

by

Oasis Herself

Jack was in his arms and sleeping deeply, and the cloth on his forehead was still damp.

Dusk then.

James glanced down at Jack and he seemed to be resting easily enough, though, as usual, one of the braids had fallen across his gills. James reached down to push it aside and ran the back of his hand along his cheek, checking for fever. Jack's color was high, the dark skin of his cheeks stained a deep wine color, and his skin was still far too hot. He ran a quick, critical eye down the length of Jack's body, and even more worrisome was the dullness of his scales.

He eased himself out from under Jack and leaned down to check the wound. It was difficult to see much in the dim light, but he could feel the heat of it radiating through the scales around it. Leaning closer he touched a cautious finger to the infected area and Jack only moaned softly in his sleep.

James wondered if he should be worrying about how deeply Jack slept or if that was a good thing, perhaps a healing thing. He was pondering whether he should try to wake Jack when there was a soft rap on the cabin door.

"Come," he called.

Anamaria poked her head in and James motioned her into the cabin.

"Wanted ya to know we're comin' up on Jamaica, Commodore. If the winds hold steady, I expect we'll be to your cove by daybreak."

She crossed the room to stand next to the bunk and took in Jack's still, silent form. "Will the Cap'n be alright, do ya think?"

"I wish I could be certain," James answered, and there was no hiding the worry in his voice.

She surprised him by reaching across Jack and clasping his hand in hers. "Jack Sparrow's a tough old bird," she said reassuringly.

He appreciated her words, recognized them for the kindness they were, but a part of him recoiled at her nearness. A sharp need to put himself between her and his injured and defenseless mate rose fast and unbidden. He withdrew his hand self-consciously and twisted on the bunk to do just that, and though he tried to make it seem casually done, he could feel his dorsal fin stiffening.

She looked at him curiously, her eyes darting to the fin on his back, but she said nothing and instead collected the empty bucket at the end of the bunk and refilled it from one of the barrels.

James murmured his thanks when she returned with it and watched her as she moved around the cabin, lighting candles and a lanthorn against the gathering gloom. He knew he was being ridiculous. This was Jack's trusted first mate, for God's sake. Still though, that distrust was as deeply engrained to him now as his fear of the creature in the trench. It was a curious paradox, James thought, to be a man himself and yet be so driven by an animal's instinctive fear of men.

He looked down at Jack and stroked his arm possessively. Jack's vulnerability only made his need to protect that much more acute.

When the cabin was filled with flickering light, she looked over at him. "Anything ya think you'll be needin' before I take to my hammock?"

"No, and my thanks."

He gave his shoulders a shake, resettling the softening fin and called to her before she reached the door. "Anamaria, forgive me if I seem... distrusting, but..." He looked down at his hands and gathered his thoughts before continuing. "Sometimes the instincts take us rather unexpectedly."

She nodded at him. "Cap'n explained some o' how it was between ya." She paused for a moment, and then gestured towards his back, "'Tis an odd thing, though, to see it firsthand."

With Jack, though, it was sometimes difficult to tell which was which.

James held Jack through it, sometimes wiping his fevered skin with a cool cloth, other times just rocking him and crooning softly. Mostly, though he just sat silently and tracked the slow, slow passage of the moon shadows across the cabin floor

Deep in the night, James eased himself carefully from beneath Jack to stretch his cramped body and freshen himself at one of the barrels. He slipped over to the open window and lingered for a few minutes, gazing out on the sea and just breathing in the scent of it. They were close enough now to the cove that he could smell it on the night breeze, and with the scent of it, a grateful sense of being almost home.

That was something he would miss when the enchantment ended... that heightened sense of smell.

He turned away from the window and returned to the bunk and Jack. There were a great many things he would miss.

Jack woke as he was sliding back onto the bunk. James pushed his hair off his face and tried to soothe him back to sleep but Jack lifted his hand and pushed irritably at him.

"James?"

Jack's voice was just a soft, breathless whisper and James leaned closer to hear him. "I'm right here."

"Still hurts real bad."

"I know, I'm sorry."

Jack took a deep shuddering breath and his eyes fluttered closed. "Gettin' weary of it, luv."

The note of exhausted, defeat in Jack's voice shook James. He leaned over Jack and took his cheeks in his hands. "Open your eyes, Jack," he coaxed softly.

Jack dragged his eyes open and looked up at him, but his dark eyes were clouded and distant. "Best send for a priest, mate."

"A priest? No, Jack, hush; you've no need of a priest, don't even think it."

Jack went on as if he hadn't even heard. "Not sure I recall the last time I went to Mass." He furrowed his brow in thought and then the corner of his lip curled up. "Oh, aye, there was that time..." he looked back at James and tried to arch his brow, "best not mention that."

James sat up higher in the bunk, truly frightened now. This wasn't the first time he had heard Jack demand a priest. In, fact it had been James himself who had escorted the ancient Padre to Jack's cell before he had been taken to the gallows.

James remembered thinking at the time how even the most hardened of men (or in Jack's case, the most daft) desired absolution before facing the noose.

Jack had confided to him, one quiet night in their cave, that he had fully expected to die that afternoon in Port Royal. Surely he couldn't believe that now.

James took him by the shoulder and gave him a hard shake. "Stop it, Jack."

Jack hissed sharply in pain and looked up at him in angry confusion. "Bloody hell, why ya shakin' me?"

At least there was awareness in his eyes now and James leaned closer, holding his gaze. "Don't you dare give up on me, Jack Sparrow, do you hear me? I forbid it."

"What I tell ya 'bout given me orders, mate?"

"I mean it, Jack. I swear I'll..." He looked away and blinked back a sudden hot sting behind his eyes.

"And threats now too, is it?" Jack glared up at him for just a moment and then incredibly, it was Jack trying to comfort him.

"Shhh... luv," he raised his hand and gently stroked James's cheek and caught a tear on the end of his finger. "You an' me both know I'm too damn mulish to give up." He gave his best shot at a leer and added softly, "'specially with the possibility of debauchin' your fine self in me future."

James caught his hand and pressed it to his lips. "Jesus, Jack."

Jack closed his eyes and was silent for so long that James thought he had fallen back to sleep. He opened his eyes as if on second thought and cocked a brow at James. "Kinda curious, here. What exactly were ya goin' to threaten me with?"

James gave an embarrassed little laugh. "I don't rightly know. I suppose I could have threatened to take up with Cruu."

"Bastard." Jack's eyes drifted shut again and he fluttered his fingers. "He'd never be able ta make ya moan and cry out the way I do, and ya know it."

James leaned closer to his ear and whispered, "or perhaps get myself in a family way."

That, at least, brought a shadow of a smile to Jack's lips. "Aye, that'd teach me."

It wasn't until they were readying the jollyboat that it occurred to James that their journey had taken them well past a fortnight and he had missed Theo's return. Gibbs promised him that one of the Pearl's company would slip into Port Royal and get word to James's lieutenant.

"If someone would just let him know to return for me at the new moon," James said as he eased Jack finally into the water.

Dree darted ahead to search out the old healer and Aroo helped James with Jack.

The healer was waiting when they erupted into the surface waters of the cavern and Jack was quickly carried to the same ledge they had used during the storm.

The rest of the pod gathered anxiously around the ledge and sounded a long, low droning keen from their gills. The keen hummed through the cavern on a single note and then dipped lower in octave at his end; and each member's keen was a heartbeat behind the one before it. It was an ebb and flow of song not unlike the sea's tides and there was an oddly comforting quality to its sound.

The healer leaned carefully over Jack and breathed deeply, smelling the wound. When he sat back, he nodded his head and confirmed James's suspicions... it was the iron that had so poisoned and sickened Jack.

"See here," he said pointing to the blackened area. "It tries to heal by encasing the embedded iron, but the poison within the metal weakens and kills the flesh."

The cure was a small, blind, venomous fish that lurked in the trench. Its poison was strong enough to burn off the sickened flesh and the iron, but would not harm the healthy tissue.

And it was Cruu, surprisingly, who volunteered to make the dangerous trek into the trench to find one of the creatures.

"I am sorry for your mate," the healer told James, "but it is the only way."

It promised to be an excruciating procedure and Jack was awake enough to be aware of what was coming. He clung to James's hand as they waited for Cruu's return and his eyes were black with his fear.

It took three of them to hold Jack down as the healer squeezed the foul smelling poison into the wound. Jack's screams reverberated throughout the cavern, and all James could do was continue to hold him down and whisper over and over "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," as Jack begged and cried and pleaded with James to make them stop.

By the time it was over and the bubbling, fetid mass was finally washed from the wound, Jack's body was wracked by violent shudders and he had bitten through his lip again.

But the wound was bleeding freely and the flesh beneath was a healthy looking pink. "The tail has not died," the healer told James, and then clasped his hand reassuringly. "It will heal now."

He wrapped the end of Jack's tail tightly with some sort of sweet smelling sea plant, and with a final pat to James's shoulder, promised to return in the evening.

The fever broke shortly afterwards and Jack fell into an exhausted healing sleep that lasted the afternoon.

Throughout that long afternoon, each member of the pod came to their ledge with an offering of food—including its littlest member, the infant whose birth he and Jack had witnessed.

Her growth and rapid development astounded James. She had more than doubled her size, and the egg sac that had initially kept her nourished was gone. She didn't speak yet, but her eyes were alight with intelligence... and mischief.

Her gift was an oyster, clutched tightly in her fist, and she didn't seem keen on handing it over. At her father's prodding, though, she set it on the ledge, until James reached for it, and then she snatched it back with a delighted grin. James withdrew his hand and she cautiously set it back, her hand hovering above it and watching James closely. He walked his fingers teasingly across the moss, coming ever closer to the oyster and laughed outright with her when she snatched it from him again at the last moment.

The game went on until James finally offered her a particularly tempting piece of sea grass and she seemed pleased enough with the trade.

She returned several times that afternoon, each time peeking over the edge of the ledge before slyly leaving another oyster and darting back to her own side of the cavern.

That had gone very badly.

When the wrappings were removed, the healer bent close to prod at the tissue with a finger and Jack awoke with a sharp cry and came up swinging. James just barely caught his arm in time to prevent him from knocking the startled healer into the water.

Apparently, he was feeling well enough to be difficult.

James pulled Jack against himself and whispered reassurance. "He only wants to re-wrap your tail, Jack."

"No."

"It's really looking very good," the healer assured, edging closer again.

'Good' was a bit optimistic in Jack's opinion.

Jack licked his lips, still dry and cracked from the fever. "Aye. I'm plenty good mate, so long's no one touches me tail." He narrowed his eyes in warning.

Reasoning with Jack was simply wasted effort.

"It has to be re-wrapped," James finally threatened, "with or without your cooperation."

In the end, Aroo and Dree came over to ledge to lend a hand and they held Jack as the healer bound the wound.

Jack wriggled and flailed and cursed in a repertoire that was as extensive as it was colorful and loud. James struggled to hold him still for the healer and entertained guilty thoughts of tossing Jack into the water just to shut him up.

When they finally had the ledge back to themselves, Jack lay scowling and glaring at James as if he were the worst sort of traitor. And through some odd quirk of James's nature, that's exactly how he felt.

He sprawled out beside Jack and dropped a light kiss to his cheek. "Don't be angry, Jack; you know it was necessary."

Jack sniffed and wouldn't answer, though his stomach rumbled loudly enough.

"Are you hungry?"

Jack did look at him then and lifted a shoulder in assent. "Well, I might be feeling a mite peckish," he murmured.

The truth of it was that his appetite had returned with a vengeance, and James had good reason to be grateful for the stores of food the pod had left for them.

When Jack had finally eaten all he could and fallen into an easy sleep, James curled around him and claimed the first real sleep he'd had in two long days.

When he returned, Jack had removed the seaweed from around his tail and it lay in a shredded heap in the corner of the ledge. Jack's expression was one of pure defiance. James judged that perhaps the best course of action was to simply look the other way and he kept silent on it.

He did his best to keep Jack entertained through the morning, but by lunchtime he was more than ready for an excuse to slip from the ledge.

On his way to find Jack's lunch, he was waylaid by the healer. He didn't relish the prospects of sharing the healer's news with Jack, but he dutifully returned to their ledge empty handed.

Jack frowned at him. "Where's my lunch?"

"The healer says you must get into the water and swim. You have to get your own lunch."

The look of incredulous disbelief that crossed Jack's face was almost amusing. James might even have actually grinned, if it weren't for the storm he knew was coming as soon as Jack realized he was serious.

Jack dropped his head back against the moss and lifted a hand to study his nails. "I can't swim an' you know it."

"You can swim... and you know it."

"It'll hurt."

"Well, yes. A little, perhaps," James admitted, "but the healer assures me that it's necessary to endure a bit of... of discomfort to strengthen the muscles."

"No."

He just knew Jack was going to be pig-headed about it. He scrubbed at his face and tried again. "Jack, you must begin using your tail, right away."

Jack levered himself up onto his elbows and nodded at his tail. "Ya see where my tail is now?"

"Yes," James sighed.

"Well, it don't hurt there." He pointed towards James. "If I move it that way... it hurts." Then he pointed towards the back wall of their ledge. "If I move it that way... it hurts." He flopped back down. "I ain't movin' it."

"I hardly would have taken you for a layabout, Jack"

Jack lifted his head, his eyes narrowed. "Layabout!" he sputtered angrily. "Bloody hell, James, may I remind you that just yesterday I was practically a dead man."

"Well, Sparrow, I dare say your mouth has certainly made a stunning recovery."

Jack ignored him. He pillowed his head in his hands and closed his eyes.

James took a determined breath and strengthened his resolve. "Then you'll just have to go hungry."

Jack's head snapped up at that. "Now see here James, you mean to say you're gonna leave me here all by me onesies?"

"Yes."

Jack stared hard at him for a moment and then set his chin stubbornly and fluttered his hand at him. "On your way then, Commodore."

Every so often, Jack would lift his head and search the cavern until he found James, gaze mournfully at him for a moment and then collapse back against the moss. He was the picture of dejection and James recognized it for the con it was. Still, even knowing that, James was wavering.

This went on for much of the afternoon until Aroo nudged him against the arm and nodded towards Jack.

Jack was watching James, grinning at him and very pointedly... chewing. As James stared at him in disbelief, Jack casually tossed an empty shell into the water.

"How?" James asked, incredulous.

"Keep watching," Aroo said, smiling broadly.

It was only a moment more before James saw a tiny hand come up out of the water beside the ledge and deposit an oyster there.

Jack gave James a smug, two fingered salute before he reached for the oyster

James turned his back on Jack and scowled at the back wall of the ledge. "Oh, for God's sake," he muttered in disgust.

Dree's hand was on James's arm now, trying to reclaim his attention. "I have a plan, James."

James listened carefully and then shook his head. "I'm not sure that's a very good idea."

"It's for his own good." Dree assured him.

James looked across the cavern. Jack was watching him again. The smug smirk was gone and now the dark eyes were wide and beseeching again. "Perhaps I should just give him one more day to get used to the idea."

"James..." and that was the both of them now.

James sighed in resignation. "Oh, all right, let's do it then and get it over with."

Grinning with delighted anticipation, Dree went off in search of Cruu.