Chapter 6 - Chapter 6: Frightful Bad Luck

Tortuga was at its peak at around eight o'clock in the evening. The local taverns were filled with scandalous activities, where men and women made themselves known to the outside world as drunks and pirates and whores.

Mr. Biggs walked into the closest tavern, lifting his hat off his sweaty brow as he let the prolific scent of Tortuga ravage his mind. A dark figure in the corner caught his attention as he lifted two pints of lager into his filthy hands and walked over to the man's table.

"Yer right, as always."

"I usually am in these situations, which, fortunately enough for me, 'appens all the time." The cockney voice commented as he lifted the dingy cup to his lips and savored the taste of the alcohol.

"It's dreadful bad luck to leave a man alone. You know that."

"And what would you 'ave me do, mate? Look." Sitting up, his red bandana became visible in the dim light of the tavern as gunfire and music drown out any quiet conversation.

"I go out there, into their waters, and what do I get? The hangman's noose; savvy? Why I should risk my own onesie just to save some poor bligh'er." He leaned back in his chair, propping his boots up onto the table with a chagrined look on his face as he brought the glass up once more.

"Jack, that poor blighter is one, William Turner."

Jack stopped drinking; his brows raised high as his mustache twitched.

"Well if you're going to tell me, you'd better make it quick."

"Well, as we thought, Norrington was up to somethin'. He'd never willingly show 'is face in Tortuga without some reason behind it, sure enough. So, I agreed to sail with him for a special ceremony to commend the Lady Elizabeth, a new high-to-do ship they built apparently takin' the place of the Interceptor."

Stopping for a moment to drain his glass, he turned back to Jack and laid a hand on the table.

"We board the ship early mornin', and from what I hear Will Turner is to be a special guest by request of the Governor. Turns out, the Governor didn't ask Will, it was a ploy by one, Commodore Norrington. Man's nuttier than sin. 'E takes a crew from here and put them in soldier uniforms so Turner won't notice. Whack! Lump to the back of 'is skull and poor Will's got 'imself a terrible 'eadache. I stay aboard to watch the ship under the name of Biggs and Bob's your uncle; BAM! Hear myself a gunshot I did. Don't believe he's dead though, too much like his father, if'n you know what I mean." He grinned, picking the glass up once more.

"I'm havin' a thought 'ere, mate. What say you and I gather a crew, and set sail? The Black Pearl needs to stretch her legs, and I can think of no better place for a vacation, than Port Royal."

* * *

The moon sat high above Port Royal, it's reflection in the waves washing up used to captivate her as she and Will would sit together, wrapped in blankets in the pleasant moments after sharing their love. The void in her life seemed to suck in the pale moonlight, tossing it to the floor of the balcony where the crumpled young woman sat.

A quilt wrapped around her shoulders, she leaned against the wall as she willed her tears and anguish to subside. She'd woken up this morning with every intention of being a mother and a wife, but fate wasn't on her side. Looking down in her lap where Will's crumpled pillow sat, her hands gripping the simple white cushion until her knuckles were white.

A sob escaped her throat as she lifted it up and buried her face in its soft depths. The scent of William Turner filled her with sadness, now that she didn't have him next to her. His loss was unbearable, and she knew now what her father had felt by the loss of his wife.

A soft knock on her door sounded through the room, but she ignored it. Again someone rapped, but Elizabeth kept to herself on the balcony, the moonlight shining in the tears she cried.

"Elizabeth?" Her father's voice filled the room, concern and love lacing the edges as his worried tone made her sob once more.

Finding the comforter off of the bed, he sighed as he passed through the open veranda doors. He spotted his little girl on the ground, her head resting against the rough brick wall behind her as she held the blacksmith's pillow in her clutched hands.

"Darling daughter, please come inside." He begged, reaching a hand out to her as she looked up at him; the grief he saw in her eyes took him back to the first few days without his own wife at his side.

"I...I don't wish to accumulate upon the situation, but I know exactly how you feel. I too lost a spouse. Your mother, my, my. Your mother had a way of getting me to do anything she wanted." He began as she placed her soft clammy hand into his and he led her back into the bedroom. Settling next to her on the bed he propped her up against the back board as he kept her hand in his, rubbing it lightly with his thumb. Just like Will used to, she thought, the mental image now burning itself into her memory.

"Absolutely anything. Especially when she was pregnant with you. She would always get me with her large brown eyes, much like yours, and the pouting lips and tell me it was only in the child's best interest." He laughed as his eyes still showed the pain, but it was being covered with happiness.

"When she died, I felt that my whole world was gone. That...despite having a new child in the world, I didn't want to live it without her by my side." Looking over into his daughter's lost hazel eyes; he saw what he was nineteen years ago.

"We share much in common, Elizabeth. Your mother left me a child to care after; to see that I wouldn't be alone. Will has done the same, I believe. He gave you the gift of life that you carry. Even if we are too blind to see, it is indeed a miracle. He loved you more than anything, and would gladly give his life for you. His loss will be mourned but I do no see that he would want you to live a life of sorrow. That was just not his nature." Patting her hand lightly, he left her room silently.

Elizabeth looked to the doors and sighed as she closed her eyes.

"If it is a miracle, why does it hurt so much?" She asked the darkness as she rolled to her husband's side of the bed, falling into a fit-full sleep.

* * *

Morning came slowly for Will as his eyes opened slowly. The searing pain of his shoulder reminded him where he was; not in his soft bed with his wife by his side. No doubt by now, Norrington had arrived back in Port Royal and informed everyone of his unnatural demise. Probably blamed the incident on pirates; the coward.

Rising weakly to his feet he trudged forward in search of anything that would keep him alive until he could think of a way to get back. Back to Elizabeth. He wouldn't live to see her in another mans arms, especially Norrington's he thought as he found a few coconuts lying on the ground. They did him little good if he had no way of opening them. Raising his eye brows, he returned to the beach. Four dead men lay face down in the surf as their swords rest beside their hands. Taking one, he slid it between the top of his trousers and his belt as he lifted another into his hand. Making his way slowly back to the coconuts, he hacked one open quickly, drinking the sweet juice as he peeled the fruit from the inside.

"It's better than nothing." He commented aloud as he sat down, the throbbing in his shoulder becoming unbearable.

Lifting his right arm had become nearly impossible and he cried out, leaning back against the tree. Raising the bandage, he noticed the flaming red around the wound and the slight yellow under the surface. Sighing, he knew that it was becoming infected, which meant he would have to squeeze the bacteria out.

"Later." He told himself as he continued to savor the fruit of the coconut looking to the sky. Contemplating his mode of action, he decided against swimming back. The blood of his injury would invite sharks to a fine meal. Plus, with his wounded arm he wouldn't be able to swim a very long distance like the one back to Port Royal.
"This is bad..."

* * *

The sound of rustling and thudding from the ceiling woke Governor Swann early in the morning. Rising to his feet quickly, he cursed himself for falling asleep as he rushed up the stairs into Elizabeth's room. Seeing his daughter with a small trunk lying open on the floor, attempting to stuff a few more belongings into it caused him to take a step back.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to find him."

"Elizabeth, you cannot be serious. Will is not coming back my dear, you must accept the truth."

"I am disinclined to acquiesce to your request, Father. Means no. Until I find his body un-moving and un-breathing I will not rest. I will not sit here and bide by Commodore Norrington's word that he is gone." Tears streamed down her cheeks as she slammed the suitcase closed, latching the lid with a small lock. "I have to know."

Sighing he watched his daughter drag the heavy case to the doorway, dropping it into a heap as she failed again to lift it. With a choking sob she kicked at it with her boot, hoping for it to budge as tears blurred her vision.

"Elizabeth...please stop. This isn't healthy for the child, you know that. This is what you have left from Will; this is what he gave you." The Governor placed a gentle hand on her stomach and the other on her shoulder, turning her away from the hallway and steering her back into the bedroom.

"I must know. He...he promised me he would never leave me. That if something would happen, he'd come back to me. No matter what." Looking up at him with pleading dark eyes that glistened with unshed tears, he nodded.

"I can't let you go, but I can promise that I will send out a ship. Dead or alive, we will bring him back here. I swear." He repeated as he took her face into his hands, looking deep into her eyes.

Nodding silently she turned away from him as he left the room, soundless tears filling his eyes at the sight of his child in so much pain.

"I promise."

* * *

Captain Jack Sparrow looked out at the Black Pearl, listing slightly to the right as he stood in front of his crew.

"I believe you told me that the hole was fixed."

"Umm...we did, sir." A gruff voice spoke up as Jack nodded.

"It's not fixed."

"Umm...no, sir."

" Coming from one dishonest man to another, lies aren't really going get us any where. However, holes in the side of my ship aren't really getting us any where either." He grumbled, walking back and forth, his hands locked behind his back as the crew looked down at their feet.

"We'll have it ready in two days, sir."

"Optimism! That's what I love to hear; optimism! Unfortunately, not many pirates use the humbleness of optimism to its fullest. We, however," He stated, his hands flailing about as the string of beads at his forehead bounced against his red bandana.

", Are not normal pirates."

"Aye, sir."

* * *

Will watched as the sun set on his third day trapped upon island he fondly named Commodore Island. His dry cracked lips showed his thirst as he prepared to clean out his injury once again. Removing the stick from his belt he found the grooves made by his teeth and set it into place inside his mouth. Untying the bandage across his chest, the swollen and infested lesion stung as the cool night air touched the infected skin. Taking the sword, he quickly cut across the center of the boil, screaming as he forced himself to squeeze out the impure liquid. Pinching it until it began to bleed freely; he swabbed it with yet another piece of his shirt before fastening his bandage back under his arm.

The heat was beginning to take its toll, and he longed for the peaceful night as he pulled the bitten stick from his mouth. Wiping away the tears caused by his pain he lifted the last bit of coconut juice to his lips, chewing lightly on the drying fruit.

His infection was making him weak, as was the lack of pure water. The nectar only satisfies for so long before you desire the crisp clear drinking water that the sea refuses to provide. He rejected the thoughts of never getting home, never seeing Elizabeth again. Even if just for a moment, he would pay anything to see that she was alright.

Long through the night, his paining shoulder disallowed him any sleep. Laying on the sandy beach, he vowed that Norrington would pay for his treachery as the stars twinkled overhead; the growling of his stomach lulling him to sleep.

* * *

~Jean~

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