Pirate Dreams 1

Pairing: J/W
Rating: NC-17 overall
Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean is owned by Disney, etc. No infringement intended.
Originally Posted: 2003
Summary: Will joins the Pearl's crew after Jack becomes a privateer, leading to many adventures, including the most dangerous adventure of all: romance.

If I had a sister, Will thought, this would be she. How could I not have seen it?

"It's hardly your fault." He gently brushed an errant strand of hair from her forehead. "We've been so close since the day we met. Perhaps too close."

She smiled gamely. "I always wished for a brother." Then she looked wistfully down the passage where Norrington had retreated. "I don't suppose he can forgive me if you and I don't wed after all."

"You need time to think things through. As do I." He turned to look out over the parapet, where the Black Pearl sailed away from Port Royal. Was that where his heart truly lay?

Elizabeth touched his sleeve. "I don't honestly believe you are a pirate, dear Will."

The ship grew smaller in the distance, bearing Jack Sparrow away, no doubt to new adventures. He already missed that worldly smile, that glorious unpredictability. Yet Elizabeth was right. He may have acquitted himself well enough during the fight to save Elizabeth, but that could hardly change his basic nature.

"I know." Still, he watched the ship's sails with longing. "I could never rob innocent people, or take up a life of piracy. But I don't know if I can return to being an ordinary blacksmith, either."

"It's Jack Sparrow," she said. "He charms everyone. You can't help but fall under his sway."

They both laughed. Then they stood at the wall, watching together as the Black Pearl flew on towards freedom, until at last its great sails were lost to view.

"I have a feeling you'll meet again," Elizabeth said as they walked down the steps.

Will's heart lifted as he realized this need not be the end of his grand adventures. "Yes," he replied as they walked back through the plaza. "I believe you're right."

One month later, when the Spanish suddenly declared war, Port Royal was caught unprepared. Many men had been lost when Barbossa had shelled the city, and many more were killed or wounded during the attack on board the Dauntless. New personnel, as well as a ship to replace the Interceptor, had not yet arrived from England. Short of manpower, with but one ship, not even Governor Swann could blame Norrington for the disastrous events that followed.

Three Spanish warships sailed into the bay to mercilessly shell Port Royal. The Dauntless sank one of the enemy's ships before being severely damaged herself. In the end, after a valiant fight at sea and on land, the Governor had no choice but to offer terms of surrender.

The Spanish made themselves at home in the city, imprisoning Swann, Norrington, and all their men in their own cells. It was their leader's clear intent to stay in Port Royal, to use it as a base. He was called Capitan Sevaldo, and he set himself up rather nicely in the Governor's mansion.

Will Turner saw all these things unfold, and he fought bravely when the enemy came ashore, an attack which occurred at night. In his final fight against one of the Spaniards, he suffered a deep cut to his left arm, while in the very act of defeating his enemy. Staggering from loss of blood, Will fell through an open doorway, and crawled inside. He knew by then they were outnumbered, and could not win this battle. So he chose to save himself for another day, when he might have a chance to fight again.

And so he hid for the night, with the sounds of gunfire, cannon, and clashing swords all around him. He bound his wound as best he could, and curled beneath a table, where he lost consciousness until morning.

He came to in what turned out to be a baker's shop, utterly empty of people. Luckily, it was not empty of wares, and Will partook of much-needed sustenance, eating nearly an entire loaf of bread. His arm ached fiercely, and he took time now that there was enough light to see clearly by to find water in the shop and some clean rags with which to bind his wound more carefully.

When he peered cautiously into the street, he saw two Spanish soldiers not far off, and more further down towards the center of town. All sounds of fighting had ceased, and he knew the enemy stood in command of the city.

What could he do to help now? Alone, injured, he would not be much use. Will sat on a bench to think. They would search the city, he imagined, and would round up all able-bodied men to make them prisoners. He needed first to get away from town, into the countryside. And then what? If he could get to a boat somehow, he could go for help.

Set now with a purpose, Will gathered up more bread in a large pouch he found in the bakery, as well as water, and then he snuck quietly out the back door into an alley to put his plan into action.

The plan worked beautifully. Nothing and no one hindered Will as he fled Port Royal, nor as he made his way across the back country, past several plantations and through a short swath of dense growth and palm trees down to a tiny inlet where a few lonely huts housed several families of fishermen. His trek took all day, and dusk protected him as he made his way around the huts and down to the dock, where a sailboat of no more than fifteen feet lay moored. He knew enough to successfully "commandeer" the vessel, so swiftly and silently that if there was anyone in the huts, they utterly failed to notice.

"Jack would be proud." Will raised the sail and steered out to sea. Unfortunately, he had no idea where the winds would take him, having no map nor compass.

Jack trusted in luck, and so will I. That was what he needed to do, he decided, to survive this new adventure. He needed to take the unexpected action, to make things up as he went along. In other words, to think like Jack Sparrow.

"Though not quite that daft." Will smiled as he sailed on towards the dying rays of the setting sun.

He hardly expected the island he came to the next day to be one which he recognized, having been to so few. But there was no mistaking that harbor entrance.

"Trust to luck." He felt buoyed by the first real hope he'd had since the Spanish attack. Somehow, some way, he would convince Jack to bring the Pearl to Port Royal. She was larger than the two Spanish ships guarding the town, she had more guns. She could defeat them, he knew it.

Will sailed his stolen boat on into the harbor and tied up at the dock. No one questioned his arrival in this wild, lawless place. He headed straight for the tavern where he and Jack had gone with Gibbs. In the daytime the place was relatively calm, and he was able to walk up to the counter without having to plow a course through fistfights. "I'm looking for Captain Jack Sparrow." He put the only coins he had on him on the counter.

The barkeep studied the coins, stared hard at Will, then slowly pocketed the money. "You want the fancy house up the hill, top of Raven Street. Can't miss it. 'Tis the only mansion we've got in this wretched town."

"He's rich," the man said. "Filthy with it, swag comin' out of his ears. You'd best be a friend to Cap'n Jack, or you'll not get one step past the gate and the guards."

"You'd better not." Will gave him a sharp look, but the barkeep didn't so much as flinch. Right then. He left the tavern and found Raven Street, and headed up the hill.

At the very top he came to iron gates protecting a wide expanse of grass, at the end of which stood a huge three-story house. Not quite up to the standards of Governor Swann's mansion, perhaps only half as big, yet impressive enough. At the gates he was met by two armed men he recognized as part of Jack's crew, though he didn't know their names.

"Not yet." He spoke aside to his companion, who nodded, then loped up a gravel lane towards the house. "Sorry. Captain's orders."

Will waited impatiently as the news of his arrival was conveyed to those inside. Eventually the guard returned. "Cap'n says he's good as gold."

"Lucky you," the other guard said to Will as he opened the gate. "We don't have to beat you up."

"Ta." Will passed through and strolled on up to the house's portico. The massive teak doors swung wide as he strode up the steps, and there, standing just inside the entrance, was Jack Sparrow, grinning for all he was worth.

Will happily ran up the rest of the steps and into the house, clasping Jack in a warm embrace. When they pulled apart, Jack held onto his shoulders at arm's length, giving him a good looking-over.

Jack dropped his grip to clap Will on the back. "Good to see you, son. Come in, come in." He ushered Will down a corridor to a drawing room. "Drinks all round!"

Will marveled at the room's wealth of furnishings. Tapestries, velvet drapes, thick carpets, cherry wood buffet and sideboard, wingchairs, settee, paintings, statues. Despite Jack's declaration of "all round", there was no one else in the room but them. Jack crossed to the sideboard, which was strewn with bottles and glasses, to pour out some rum.

He looked nearly the same, albeit a bit cleaner. He'd obviously availed himself of the aforementioned bathing facilities the house offered, and fairly recently. The bandana was off, and his hair had actually been combed out, freed of braids and adornments. He had quite a handsome aspect. He wore his usual pants and open-necked white shirt, though clean as well. And he'd either repaired the damaged cuff or bought a new shirt.

"Is that what you've been up to?" Will looked round the room. "Did that get you all this?"

"Only a little, and no, it didn't." Jack gestured at the room's trappings in that same off-balance fashion Will had come to know so well. "Have you not heard the story?"

"Ah. Pity." Jack took a healthy swig from his glass. "Well, then, it's really quite simple. We sailed right back to the Isla de Muerta, and gathered up all the treasure. 'Cept the cursed gold, of course."

"Thank goodness for that." Will should have guessed what had happened. It made perfect sense. "So you're unbelievably rich now, is that it?"

"I see. And the 'only a little' rum smuggling? Why do you need to do that, then?"

Jack smiled, showing a few gold-capped teeth. "Got to keep a hand in somehow, mate. Have you any idea how boring it is to have everything you want?"

"Can't say I do." Will felt happy for Jack, but he also felt anxious, knowing the state of things back in his home city. "Listen, if you want action, I've got just the thing for you, and for your crew."

"Have you now?" Jack cocked an eyebrow. "What have you been up to, lad? Thought you went off to be with Elizabeth."

"Not quite. It's a long story. Trust me, it can wait. The important point is that the Spanish declared war a fortnight ago."

"Yes. They've captured the town, and imprisoned the men. I barely got away." Will rubbed his sore arm, still bandaged beneath his shirt.

"You're hurt?" Jack set down his glass and stepped close. "Let me look." He pushed up Will's sleeve and undid the bandage. "Ouch. That's nasty."

"Ah, now, none of that bravado nonsense." Jack crossed to the door to yank the bell pull. "I'll send for a surgeon. Fix you up good and proper."

"Look, honestly, there's no need. And there's no time. I need you to bring the Pearl to Port Royal. We must free the city."

"We?" Jack raised both eyebrows. "Last time I looked, I was the Captain of the Black Pearl."

A servant appeared in answer to the bell. Jack spoke with him quickly, then sent him off.

"I don't want a physician," Will repeated. "I want to take action against our enemies."

"Because this is where the currents and the wind brought me." Will felt his frustration rising along with his impatience. "I thought it fortuitous."

Jack weaved across the room towards the sideboard. "Did you now? You thought I'd leap at the chance to do a good turn for the people who tried to hang me?" He refilled his glass. "I may be a bit touched, mate, but I do remember when someone puts my neck in a noose."

"I'm not asking you to do it for Swann or Norrington. I'm asking you to do it for me."

"No, thank you." Will set his half-drunk glass down. "I can't be socializing while Port Royal lies under foreign control. If you won't come, I'll have to find someone who will, even if it means sailing on to wherever the next winds take me."

Jack rolled his eyes. "You've got an overdeveloped sense of moral obligation, mate. It's only a town." He paused. "Or is Elizabeth in danger again?"

"So, not hastening to the rescue of a fair maiden this time. Then what? Have you got mates there?"

Will honestly didn't have any close friends. His work and his sword fighting practice never allowed much time. "Not really." He wondered if Jack had a point. It was only a town, one he had no close ties to other than his employment. Why did he care so much?

Because even though he had no close friends, people there had always treated him decently, because they'd given him a place to call home, an enchantingly beautiful island that shouldn't be overrun by a cruel enemy.

The servant returned to say the surgeon's carriage was coming up the drive. Will made a final appeal. "Listen, I can't speak for Swann or Norrington, Jack. But if you came to Port Royal and ousted the Spanish, they couldn't possibly hang you. No one in the town would allow it. You'd be the town's savior. I shouldn't be surprised if Governor Swann gave you a pardon in gratitude."

"It's highly probable." Will heard footsteps coming along the corridor. "Tell me now, Jack. Do I stay and let the physician treat me, or do I waste no more time here and move on?"

Jack smiled softly, then set down his glass. "I'm glad you came, Will." He waved his hand idly at the furnishings. "When a man has nothing, he has nothing to lose. He can take greater risks, hare off on reckless adventures without a care. But give a man everything he ever thought he wanted, and suddenly he starts to worry. What if something happened to it all? What if someone tried to take it from him? He grows more cautious, starts to stay closer to safe places, starts daring less. And you know what happens to him then?"

The servant came in again, ushering along a man carrying a leather case. "The doctor, sir."

Jack gestured towards Will. "Your patient. He'll want you to be quick." He grinned at Will. "So do I. We have some urgent business at the next turning of the tide."

Will grinned back. "Don't worry, Jack," he said. "Even if you live to be a hundred, you'll never grow old."

The Pearl set sail that evening. Will was glad to see most of the same crew he'd met earlier, including Gibbs and Anamaria. He enjoyed helping them set sail, doing as much as he could with just one good arm. It was a fine evening, with a calm sea and a fair wind. After they cleared the harbor and set their course, Jack handed the wheel to Anamaria and guided Will down to his captain's quarters.

This was an expansive cabin, filled with dark wood furniture, lit with oil lamps and candles, and finely decorated. The ship's cook brought dinner in, and Will realized as soon as he caught the aroma how famished he was. The bread and water he'd lived on the past day hardly satisfied.

The cook lay the table with mutton, game hens, bread and cheese, warm pears in brandy, and a bottle of red wine, and then departed. Jack and Will sat down, and Will dug into the food while Jack poured out two glasses of wine. They ate quickly and quietly for a while, until finished with the meat. Then they relaxed and indulged more slowly in the bread, cheese, and the pears.

The ship rocked gently, and Will soon grew used to its cradling motion. And the food was deliciously filling. "You can't tell me it's all bad, having money."

Will quirked an eyebrow. He had wondered before about Jack's background, and now he was reminded again that the man had a better vocabulary than one expected of a pirate. He'd heard him use grandiose words before, easily, the way a well-educated man would use them. He made a mental note to find out more about Jack's history some day, but at the moment, he had something else on his mind. Something he had wanted to tell Jack for a long time.

"Listen," he began, leaning back in his chair, wine glass in hand. "I never had a chance to apologize for whacking you with that oar. I'm very sorry for that. It's just that, you see, I overheard you talking to Gibbs about leverage, and I thought you planned to make a bargain with Barbossa. My life for your ship back."

"What?" Will was taken aback. "No. You wouldn't have." He frowned. "I mean, I'd find that hard to credit."

"I'm not keen on planning ahead." Jack crunched down on a piece of bread and cheese. "Like to make things up as I go along," he mumbled between bites.

Jack washed the bread down with a good swig of wine. "I rarely have any idea what I'm going to do."

"Well, I don't believe you would have given me up to Barbossa. I believe that Jack Sparrow the Infamous Pirate is more myth than reality. You're a good, decent fellow at heart."

Will smiled. "Yes, I reckon." He sipped his wine, glad to have got past that. "So I'm still sorry that I hit you."

"I thought that might be the case when you turned up to save me from the gallows." Jack smiled back with genuine warmth.

"It was the right thing to do." Will had felt so guilty about hitting Jack, especially when Jack later returned to the cave to try saving him from Barbossa's knife. "And I also never had a real chance to thank you for saving my life. I'm afraid I was distracted by Elizabeth."

"Yes, she is." He hoped they could succeed in freeing Port Royal before word got to England about the town's capture. He didn't want her to worry about her father.

Will sighed. "No, I didn't. We found out—well, it seems we are more like brother and sister than, well, than anything else." He felt himself flush slightly. "We met when I was only twelve and she ten years of age, and we were very close. The Swanns were the only family I knew well, and even though I was of a different class of society, we still spent a great deal of time together as we grew up. It was Governor Swann who arranged my apprenticeship with Mr. Brown, the blacksmith. Mr. Brown's sister-in-law worked in the Governor's household, in the kitchens. I lived with her and her husband, as Mr. Brown was unmarried. So I spent my free time in the Governor's kitchens, and Elizabeth would come down to meet me there. We'd go off for walks in the gardens, or to play games, or to read the books she had, which were all about pirates. Sometimes I'd take her to explore the town, as there were many places her father preferred she not go, and she would insist I help her disobey him. She was always strong-willed." He paused, aware he'd gone on at length. Jack probably didn't care about any of this. "Sorry."

Will shrugged. "I don't know." He looked into his wine glass, the red liquid aglow from reflected candlelight. "For a lot of things."

"Don't be sorry for being romantic," Jack said softly. "It's one of your better qualities."

Will looked up. Jack's intent gaze seemed entirely serious. Will smiled. "I suppose you could be right." He took a sip of his wine. "But for now, I'm done chasing after idealized love. How can I give myself to anyone else, when I'm not even sure who I am anymore?"

"I'm a swordsmith," Will replied. At least, that was the one part of blacksmithing he truly cared about.

"Maybe. I'm not certain. I'm good at it, and it suits me well. Yet I often feel a desire for something more, or something different, with no idea what that might be."

Will knew he didn't mean it seriously. "I prefer 'gentleman-adventurer'," he replied.

They both laughed. Then they set about finishing off the rest of the food and the wine, until the table was cleared.

Jack blew out the candles, leaving only two oil lamps lit. "We rise early at sea. Should get some sleep."

Will stretched and yawned. "Where is my berth?" He expected to bed down with the crew.

Will looked, and saw a large bed set in an ornate wood frame, curtained by thick, midnight-blue drapes. It certainly would be far more comfortable than the crew's quarters, and it seemed big enough for two. He hesitated, though. "I don't want to be singled out. I mean, won't the rest of the crew be bothered by that?"

"Not if you're a guest on my ship. And you are." Jack rose from the table and crossed to a cushioned bench set into the hull. He had removed his coat earlier to eat. Now he sat down to remove his boots.

A wave of tiredness washed over Will. He'd had an extraordinarily long day, and his arm was aching again, though the wine he'd drunk helped dull it a little. He supposed some small comfort was not undue him. So he stood to take off his vest and boots.

Jack stood and rolled down his trousers, then sat again to kick them off. He had only his shirt on now. "You don't snore, do you?"

"No one's ever told me so." Will divested himself of his pants. He rather wanted to leave on his shirt, as well as his smalls. Mrs. Brown had never instructed him on the etiquette of sharing a bed.

"Leave those on." Jack must have noticed his confusion. "If something happens to the ship, sudden squall say, you want to be on deck in a hurry." He followed his own advice and walked over to the bed in his shirt and underclothes. He threw back the covers, then gestured towards Will. "For the same reason, I'll take the outside. Best if the captain can get topside first."

Will nodded and crossed to the wooden frame. He climbed up onto the featherbed and shoved himself against the wall. He already felt drowsy, and the soft pillow and well-cushioned bed enhanced his sleepiness.

Jack tamped out the oil lamps. Then he clambered up beside Will, and pulled the thick covers over them both. He pulled the drapes to, plunging them into utter blackness.

There was plenty of room. Will felt himself drifting, cocooned, as the ship's gentle rocking lulled him deeper into slumber. He felt Jack shifting about, and then he felt Jack's arm drape across his chest, warm and comforting. "Dream good dreams," Jack whispered, and his breath tickled Will's cheek.

Will lay his own arm across his chest, right alongside Jack's, just touching. He put his hand on top of Jack's hand. He felt more at home here than he ever had anywhere else. "I will," he said softly.

*The Pearl arrived at Port Royal around midday, and took on the two Spanish ships in a grand battle. Cannons fired, all the ships were damaged, but Captain Jack won the day, sinking one ship and sending the other flying off to safety far far away from the island after it picked up the first ship's survivors. Will's arm felt much better, and he fought quite bravely throughout.

The Pearl's crew rowed to shore to take on the Spanish soldiers in the streets of Port Royal. There came a running battle up and down the narrow streets, the Pearl's crew avoiding open ground where they knew they'd be outnumbered. Meanwhile, the Pearl shelled the fort which was completely under Spanish control.

They could hear the shelling close by, cannon fire shaking the very walls of the prison. Will stumbled as he went up the portico steps, and Jack helped steady him. They were both sweating heavily, exhausted by the battle. But if they could manage to free Norrington and his men, the day would surely be theirs. With the loss of his ships, Captain Sevaldo couldn't possibly outman them.

Will and Jack broke through the front doors together, swords ready. Only two guards were inside, and after a short, fierce fight, they both lay wounded. Jack found the key ring, and they hurried down to the cells. Jack and Will moved rapidly from cell to cell, opening the doors.

Men staggered out, all asking questions at once. All was confusion, until Jack finally found Norrington in the last cell, and sprang him loose.

"You?" Norrington, unshaven and looking a bit gaunt, gaped at Jack. "Have I gone mad?"

"Hope not. I need you to muster your men. There's a fight going on for your town."

Will pushed through the men to reach him. "Commodore, we must hurry. I talked Jack into bringing the Pearl and its crew, and they've already defeated the ships. But the crew is fighting in the streets with Sevaldo's men, and they're outnumbered. There are arms in the guardhouse, I saw them on my way in."

After one final, puzzled look at Jack, Norrington got himself under control. He quickly gave orders to his men to arm themselves from the guardhouse.

"We'll free him, then." Norrington nodded. "Good luck." Then he and his men headed off to fight the Spanish, while Jack and Will collapsed on the portico steps for a much-needed rest.

"That ought to give them a nice surprise," Will said. He took a few deep, refreshing breaths. "Pity we can't stay here long."

Will clapped him on the back. "Come on. We're going to rescue the Governor. He can't refuse you a pardon then, can he?"

"Ah, so that was in your head, was it? Thought you were volunteering us simply because it was 'the right thing to do.'"

Will grinned. "It is. Doesn't hurt if you gain some profit by doing the right thing, though, does it?"

When they reached the iron gates, they hid behind its marble pillars, cautiously surveying the lay of the land. "Don't see a soul," Jack said.

"Maybe Sevaldo sent all of his men off to the battle." Will peered round the pillar. "Or maybe they're hiding just out of sight."

"No." Will reached out to hold him back. "I know this house well, remember? I spent more time here than I did at the Browns' home, I know all its secrets. There's a summerhouse in the back garden. The Governor had a tunnel constructed from it to the main house. It was built for Elizabeth, so she'd have a safe place to run in case of danger."

They made their way round to the rear of the grounds. Will boosted Jack onto the top of the wall, then Jack pulled Will up and they both dropped onto the inside of the gardens. Still no sign of any soldiers. They wove between the shrubs and rose bushes, keeping low, until they reached the summerhouse and slipped inside.

Will rolled back a rug in the center of the wooden building, revealing a trap door. He heaved it open and they climbed down the steps into a small room swathed in cobwebs. Will found his way from memory in the dark, finding the latching mechanism on the wall that sprang open the door leading to the tunnel. It was cramped inside, shorter and narrower than he remembered, but then he hadn't been there since he was a boy.

They followed the tunnel for some fifty feet, then it made a sharp turn and went another twenty-five feet before ending in another small room. Will turned another latch, and a rusty hinge creaked as the door opened into the wine cellar.

"A thousand and one uses." Will felt his way again through the darkened chamber, until he found the stairs that led up to the kitchens. "Come on. This way."

Jack followed close on his heels as he climbed slowly up the stairs, pushed open the wine cellar door, and peeked inside the kitchen. The large room stood empty.

They entered the kitchen and drew their swords. Will crossed to the door. "There's a corridor," he whispered. "Leads in one direction to the dining room, in the other to the servants' quarters."

Will nodded, and they slipped out into the corridor. He led the way to the dining room. This room, too, turned out to be empty. A second doorway at the far end led to another short hallway, off which lay the front drawing room and the library. Will guided them down to the drawing room, where they heard voices.

They both stood to the same side of the doorway, Will closest. He listened through a slight gap between the closed door and the frame. He recognized Swann's voice. The other was clearly Sevaldo.

"There is no time left to argue," Sevaldo said. "You will come with me to the fort now, or you will die here."

"Then I will die here," Swann replied. "I will not be used as a hostage to subdue my people."

Jack slipped to the other side of the double doors. "Three," he mouthed. He held up one finger, then two, and then together on three they burst through the doors.

They would have done better had Swann not been only a few feet in front of the doorway, and had Sevaldo been closer. Will staggered against the Governor in his mad rush into the room, knocking them both to the floor. Jack stepped nimbly around them to face Sevaldo, who had time to draw his sword. They dueled at close quarters in the center of the room, crashing against the furniture. There was no room for finesse as they both made wild swings at each other.

Will scrambled to his feet only to find that there was another man in the room, a Spanish soldier already barreling at him. Will stumbled back under his furious onslaught, back into the corridor. He slashed madly at his attacker, desperate to dispatch him and come to Jack's aid. They clashed swords again and again, neither gaining the upper hand. Will might have won more easily, for he felt his skills were better than his opponent's, but he was distracted by the fight in the drawing room, trying to catch the action.

As he and the soldier parried back and forth before the doorway, Will caught glimpses of the other fight. He saw Swann pick up a vase and try to smash Sevaldo on the head. He saw Sevaldo deflect the blow, and knock Swann hard on the jaw with the hilt of his sword. Swann sank to the ground and stayed there.

As Will thrust and lunged at his opponent, he could tell the man was weakening. Then he heard a surprised gasp, and glanced into the drawing room. Sevaldo stood speared on Jack's sword, eyes wide. Jack drew the sword out, and Sevaldo fell to the carpet, utterly still.

Will felt a surge of relief, and a new energy. He moved hard against his enemy, cutting him on both arms with two quick thrusts. The man staggered, and Will ran a third thrust home to his guts. The soldier fell.

"Good work, mate." Jack stumbled into the corridor, holding his arm. Blood flowed from a wound there, and Will saw other cuts on his chest, though none looked deep.

Will reached out to clasp him in an embrace, but in the very act, Jack jerked upright as a loud report sounded. His eyes went wide in shock, and he collapsed against Will's chest.

"What...?" Will looked down the corridor towards the house's main entrance. A soldier stood there, gun in hand, smoke still rising from its barrel. "No!"

He looked down at Jack. Blood seeped from a wound in his chest, not from a cut, but from a bullet. His eyes closed and he sank all the way to the floor. Will stared at the soldier, who was trying to reload his gun. "You bastard!" He ran full speed down the corridor, sword raised.

The man dropped the gun and tried to unsheath his sword, but he was too slow. Will stabbed him cleanly through the heart.

He stared numbly at the fallen soldier. Jack couldn't be dead... it wasn't possible. He ran back to stoop beside his fallen friend, and took him gently in his arms, cradling his head. He pressed a hand against the wound. "Don't die on me," he muttered. "You can't do that. You know it's not possible."

Jack's eyes fluttered open. "Inescapable," he murmured. And then his eyes closed once more.

Pirate Dreams

Chapter 1