Will decided that this was the absolute dirtiest he’d ever been. Sure, working in a blacksmith shop was by no means clean work but this … this was just dirty on so many levels. Wiping a bloody palm on the thigh of his pants, Will let out a deep sigh and shook his head before continuing across the deck of the ship.

************************

He’d been on board the Black Pearl for almost three months. Will had been surprised just how well the lifestyle suited him. He really hadn’t expected to adjust so easily to living on board a ship, a pirate ship no less. What’s more he’d been shocked to notice how quickly his previous life in Port Royal was mostly forgotten. And to top it all off he’d been no less than amazed (if not a touch guilty) by how easily he’d left behind his heartache.

When Elizabeth changed her mind, Will had thought she may as well have ran his heart through with a sword – it would have been quicker and less painful. But in the end the feelings of loss, depression, and a touch of betrayal had been cast off far more easily than he’d ever expected. Will supposed, had he remained in Port Royal, it would have been much more difficult, if not impossible, for him to get past the break-up of his long desired yet very short lived romance. There were some things that were just too much for a man. Having to see his once fiancée on the arm of another man was just such a thing and Will had decided to join up with Jack and his crew and leave the happy new couple behind.

It had taken a month away but Will had decided he could be happy for them, wish all the best for them in their new life together.

Leaving the very night Elizabeth had announced her intentions to marry Norrington … well, it wasn’t a coincidence. Will might be a rash acting man but he was by no means a stupid one – better to distance himself then find a rope around his neck for having skewered a certain Commodore.

Really though, Will had found that it took very little time for him to get over what had happened. Yes, that had been a most welcome surprise.

Crossing back to the Pearl from the other ship, Will thought about the first day he’d come on board again, this time to stay…

…and there had been Jack. Yet he was not exactly as Will remembered him. His clothes were cleaner, more refined. They were clearly made of sturdy fabrics yet the tailoring was rather fussy, almost like someone had used the pattern for a wealthy aristocrat’s clothes yet made them of more durable fabrics. He wore a white (or at least far closer to white than the pirates’ previous shirt had been) shirt, open at the collar and a green dark long coat with turn back cuffs and gold roping accents and dark wood toggle buttons. They suited Jack at least as well as the clothing Will had seen him in previously (and the boots were the same as before).

Will had noticed the absence of braids on Jack’s chin next. His beard had been shaved into a more refined, short goatee. Through his skin was a tanned as ever, his facial hair was very tidy. Jack’s eyes were kohl rimmed as before but they were now far less smudged. The narrow, dark black lines made his eyes look as intense as ever. Even Jack’s hair seemed less of a rat’s nest. There were still some beads, coins and other unrecognizable things woven into it but now the black locks were freed from their bandana. The overall length was much shorter, now just hanging an inch or two past his shoulders. Most of the dreadlocks had been removed (cut out Will assumed) and although it was still windblown and scattered, the look was now more one of eccentricity rather than totally unkempt.

But the smile was the same as ever and Will had seen the look of happiness dancing in Jack’s eyes before being drawn into a bear hug. Awkwardly, Will had returned the embrace which had come as something of a surprise (though really, where Jack was concerned, Will supposed he should have been expecting a lack of respect for personal space) though not entirely unwanted. Being held that close Will couldn’t help but notice that not only did Jack look clean he certainly smell that way too. In fact, Will took a small sniff and thought he even smelled cologne on the man. Jack had pulled him back, clutching his shoulders and holding him at arms length to get a good look at him. Whatever it was he saw (or perhaps what he reasoned) Jack had given Will a look of sympathy before putting an arm around his waist and leading him to his cabin. For a brief moment Will had felt the sting of walking in tandem like that with another. He thought it should be himself and Elizabeth strolling along the shoreline together, wrapped loosely in each other’s company. But then if he’d been with Elizabeth it would have been HIS guiding hand on HER back, not him being led.

Maybe that made it all alright.

Reflecting back on it now, Will could see that from the very moment he’d stepped aboard, every comparison between his old life and new, and, in time, between Elizabeth and Jack, had left the things of old lacking. It wasn’t the same life and it certainly wasn’t the same companion but as the months had passed Will thought less and less on his old existence, and all that entailed, and concentrated increasingly on his present life.

He and Jack had quickly become lovers. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say they had quickly become bed partners and developed very soon after into lovers. Whatever the case, Will was now more than pleased with the arrangement and Jack was especially verbal with his thoughts about the same.

All in all Will had been very pleasantly surprised how quickly his life had changed for the better and was now the most satisfied (in more ways than one) he’d been in his life.

Having said that, there were occasionally days when he pondered if perhaps shoeing horses and creating swords was not a more suited career for him.

Today had been a terrible day from start to finish and a technically successful raid on a merchant ship had ended up with two deaths on the opposing crew. That was two too many for both Jack and Will’s standards. It had, sadly, been totally unavoidable and Will was nearly sickened when he glanced again at the blood on his clothes and covering his sword. He wanted to clean up but couldn’t quite talk himself into going below deck and changing out of his bloodstained clothes. Instead he sat, back against a barrel on the deck of the ship, as far as he could from the bustling activity of the crew who was moving booty across to the Pearl. He folded his arms, resting them on his bent knees and let his forehead sit atop them.

*****
Will was woken by a gentle shaking of a hand on his shoulder. Sniffing a bit and blinking Will looked up to find Jack crouched down in front of him looking concerned. He also noticed the rapidly paling sky and his sleep foggy brain finally deduced he must have nodded off.

“Come inside, Will,” Jack said simply before straightening up and offering a well manicured hand to Will. Will found himself staring at the hand. That was another thing that had surprised him: Jack was downright fastidious when it came to his hands. They were by no means soft, years of callouses had toughened the skin permanently. And his hands certainly didn’t remain totally clean. Indeed, pirating was not a clean career by any stretch of the imagination and Jack was forever getting his hands into something, whether metaphorically or otherwise. Nevertheless, Jack carefully cleaned his hands every night, even going as far as to use a small brush under his fingernails. True, he would never be able to keep them clean more than an hour into the next day (and he never seem to try to do so) but still he saw fit to clean that thoroughly every night.

Will considered himself to be reasonably cleanly by nature. He’d always bathed regularly and done his best to appear presentable in public. But he’d long ago come to realize that there was just no way to keep his hands clean as either a blacksmith or, apparently, as a pirate.

Pulling his attention away from the proffered hand in front of him, Will glanced down at the twin bloody, handprint-shaped stains on his pants. He swallowed thickly and blinked as if to block out unwanted memories. No, there was no way to keep his hands clean being a pirate.

Apparently Jack had noticed his distraction, or had just run out of patience. Will felt a strong hand grip his arm and pull him up easily but gently. Once he had Will on his feet Jack wrapped an arm around his waist and led him to their cabin.

“Time to get you cleaned up, mate,” he said sounding conversational to the casual observer. Will could catch an undercurrent of something else, it sounded vaguely like disappointment or resignation.

*****

Jack had tried his hardest to keep Will safe. While he never had intentions to keep the young man sheltered, nor would such a thing be possible living the lives they did, he had taken every necessary (and, quite possibly many that weren’t) precaution to protect Will from the more grizzly aspects of pirating. Sure, the whelp could handle a sword with stunning precision, but killing a man was very different from killing a cursed creature or practicing against invisible enemies.

Will no longer practiced 3 hours a day with his swords. He did, however, spend at least a few hours a week alone on deck going through the motions to maintain his proficiency. Jack watched silently in turmoil every time. Part of him couldn’t take his eyes off the youth, watching as the muscles in his back rippled and flexed as the sword gracefully sliced through the air. But there was another part of Jack that loathed seeing Will practice. It might be the most stunning show he’d see of Will outside the bedroom, but it was forever a reminder to Jack that someday it wouldn’t be imaginary opponents Will was facing off against. He knew Will wouldn’t lose in a fight. Surely the young man wouldn’t try to kill another unnecessarily, he wasn’t bloodthirsty, but he wasn’t one to back down either. The very rash nature that sometimes got Will into trouble would, in the end, be his saving point. Watching Will, shirtless and sweating under the hot sun, lunging and slicing through the air, Jack realized that if it came down to it Will would kill as needed. It was the inevitable end result of his training and practicing. And while Jack never for a second worried that the boy would do such a thing unnecassecarily, he knew someday a situation would arise where Will would find himself in a position that required he kill or be killed. Every time he silently observed the dedicated practice, Jack felt conflicted. He didn’t worry that Will wouldn’t be able to handle killing someone if need be – he worried that the young man wouldn’t be able to handle living with himself afterward.

Since Will had come onboard his ship, Jack had taken more measures and greater care to ensure that all raids were as efficient and bloodless as possible. He’d been careful and lucky before, but now he was more diligent and organized than ever. Not that anyone of the victims of said raids would know all this. Carefully orchestrated chaos appeared remarkably similar to the real thing and in the apparent confusion people were very willing to be helpful. While Jack loathed Barbossa and all the man had done with his ship, the reputation the evil man had left the Black Pearl with wasn’t entirely inconveniencing. There was something very satisfying about having the power to board and raid a ship without ever having to fire a shot, to see men surrender and lead you right to valuables, all the time looking as though they thoroughly expected to become his sword’s next victim. How the tales of his bloodthirsty and destructive nature kept growing Jack never knew. He just thanked his lucky stars that his reputation proceeded him and his careful plans made the very acts he was supposedly so eager to do largely unnecessary.

But in the end they were pirates. With the title came the occasional less than wonderful situation and despite all the careful plans and well trained crew, sometimes things didn’t go perfectly, same days they were forced to live up to their reputation. Today had become just such a day. All that Jack had done to keep Will from finding himself in the position to put all those years of practice to use had been for not. It was with a heavy heart and a feeling of failure that Jack approached curled up form of Will.

Upon pulling the boy up from the deck Jack saw the blood still covering Will’s clothes and hands. He noticed the tiny splattered row of rusty brown dots on Will’s neck. He had to get that stupid bastards blood off his Will for both their sakes.

*****

Will followed Jack to their cabin, feeling almost dizzy and blank. He knew he should feel something but for the moment all he could feel was the stiff scrape of dried blood on his clothes as they brushed against him. As they made their way across the deck Will became aware of another feeling as well, the familiar touch of Jack’s warm hand on his lower back, guiding him. Memories and fears threatened to overcome him for a moment, but Will pushed them down, focusing on the sensations he could feel on his body rather than those that loomed in his mind.

Will was so purposely focused on Jack’s guiding hand on his back that he failed to notice the rather unlikely new addition to their cabin until he very nearly walked right into it.

“What’s this?” he asked staring down at the huge decorative, claw footed tub.

“That’s a bathtub, luv. You’ve not been out to sea for so long that you could have forgotten,” Jack said keeping his voice light.

“Yes, I see that. I meant what is it doing here?” Will asked. If he hadn’t felt so tired and foggy he’d likely have snapped at Jack like he wanted to. At the moment it just seemed like too much effort. Will scratched at his chest where the stiff fabric rubbed against his skin.

“Was getting tired of always having to find rum bottles. Slippery little buggers, always rolling off when’er the sea turns rough. I figure we fill this ‘ere tub wif rum an’ then I can just scoop it out like,” Jack said, miming filling an invisible cup from the tub.

Getting no reaction from Will Jack dropped his act. “I thought you’d want to get cleaned up. Got a bit…” Jack paused, searching for the right word, and not finding it, he continued, “messy earlier.”

“Messy,” Will repeated, his tone flat. He snorted lightly, in what was probably meant to be dismissively, but this was closely followed by a shudder as the blood-stiffened fabric scraped against his chest again.

Wordlessly, Jack unbuttoned Will’s ruined shirt and tossed it into a corner. The smooth skin beneath was darkened where the blood had soaked through.

Feeling Jack remove his shirt Will started undoing his pants. He refused to glance down, knowing his fingers were stained, blood dried in the cracks and callouses, caught under his finger nails.

Stepping out of his pants, Will let Jack guide him into the tub. He was surprised by how hot the water was as he sank down.

Believing it was a safe topic, Will asked, “Jack how on earth did you manage this?”

“Wasn’t easy, mate.” Jack took off his coat as he spoke. “Keepin’ it hot like that and haulin’ it up from the galley was somethin’ of a challenge.”

“Where did you get all this?” Will asked, referring to the tub and the large quantity of water he was now immersed in. Will had been on the ship long enough to understand that water, fresh water that is, was something that was never to be wasted. While not the most exciting of cargo, fresh water was a necessity and one that was never to be squandered, particularly not by doing things like filling a huge bath tub.

“From the raid. We’re only two days sail from Tortuga. We can afford it.”

unfinished

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