Ten years he'd searched, ten years he'd carried this pistol, ten years he'd done nothing but plot revenge on the man before him, and Jack did not see Barbossa's body hit the ground, nor the poison-green apple rolling from his pocket. There was not a single level on which he cared.
Will seemed to crumple in slow motion, but even so, he was already on his knees by the time Jack got to him, the echo of Elizabeth's scream ringing in his ears. Jack dropped, catching Will as best he could on the bad footing of the treasure mound. They both slid down a bit in the process.
The boy's eyes were dazed, staring up at Jack without really seeing him. The shot had missed his heart, probably due to the fact that Barbossa's life was fading as he fired, but from the wet, choked sound of his breathing, it seemed to have punctured a lung.
"A surgeon," Elizabeth gasped, her eyes frantically canvassing Will's shocked face.
"No time," said Jack tightly. Will blinked, recognizing him, and reached a hand towards his face.
"Jack..."
"Don't you say it," Jack snarled, tearing off his headscarf and using it to staunch the flow of blood.
Elizabeth sobbed once, touching Will's hand where it was closed over Jack's forearm. "Jack, he's –"
"No he isn't," Jack said, sliding an arm under Will's shoulders and heaving upwards. Will cried out and he immediately gentled his tone, though it was no less urgent. "I know it hurts, love, but we've got t' get you up. Help." This last he directed to Elizabeth, who scrubbed tears away and clutched Will around the waist, though her face was still mystified. Together they heaved Will to his feet, staggering under his weight.
Will's head lolled, dropping onto Jack's shoulder. Jack freed one hand to hold his chin up, looking him steadily in the eye. "William. Listen to me. You are not going t' die." Will's eyelashes fluttered and he groaned, his body twitching. Jack continued speaking to him, pressing lips close to his ear. "Reach into that chest and take your life."
For a moment Will did not move. Jack fought off despair with everything he had, willing the boy to do this one thing that Jack could not do for him, however much he wanted to.
Then, with the tremendous effort it took written on his pallid face, Will stretched his arm out. His fingers fumbled before closing around a single coin. He held onto it as Jack and Elizabeth dragged him backwards. When the gold left the stone perimeter, the body in their arms lightened, hollowed, and they released him.
Will looked down at his arms in the moonlight. "So that's what my bones look like," he murmured, twisting at the waist to see himself more easily. A dull thunk made them all look down at the small, bloodstained black lump that had fallen from Will's ribcage.
"What does it feel like?" Elizabeth wanted to know, fascinated by the sight of clean white bone and shifting patches of flesh
Shrugging, Will replied, "Strange. I don't think I like it overmuch." He stepped backwards, out of the light, and looked the same as ever. He touched his fingers to where the wound had been, incredulous. "There isn't even a mark."
Just then, Jack remembered to breathe again. The strangled noise he made as he did saw caused Will to look up at him, brown eyes alighting.
"Next time you get an urge to question one o' me brilliant plans," said Jack after clearing his throat, "please do remember this. Same goes for you," he said sternly to Elizabeth.
Her face was solemn, though her eyes danced wickedly. "Duly noted."
Will rubbed his chin, the corner of his mouth twitching as he looked at the girl. "I can't decide if you're bad luck or good."
Elizabeth made a short bow. "At the moment I am only a girl in trousers, Mr. Turner." She wrinkled her nose, glancing down at herself. "They smell awful."
Jack felt a laugh form in his chest, but in the end he was simply too tired to make way for it. He put a hand to Will's elbow, nodding at the coin still in the boy's hand. "Time you gave that back."
Will held it up to the light, studying the skull. "It smiles as if it knows something we do not."
"Yes," said Elizabeth tartly, "'don't muck about with the undead.'"
"I'm afraid I have to agree," said Will. He bent down to retrieve the forgotten knife, having to stick his arms over the chest and into the darkness so that there would be skin to cut. They watched silently as he drew back, dropping the coin and turning his bones instantly back to flesh – for real this time, and for good. Jack stepped up behind him just to make sure, took his hand to check for a pulse. Will smiled at him, but a pained expression crossed his face and he nearly tumbled down the mound.
Jack grunted as he caught him. "Blood loss, I imagine. We'd best get you to bed."
"I feel fine," Will insisted. "Just a bit shaky." All the same, he leaned heavily on Jack while they made their way to the mouth of the cave. He caught Elizabeth shooting them curious glances, but when he raised an eyebrow she just smiled and shook her head indulgently.
There was smoke drifting off of the Dauntless. Elizabeth gripped his arm tightly, her eyes going blank.
"'S fine," he told her quietly. "Just some fighting. Anxious to get back to your da and your commodore, eh?"
"Yes, actually," said Elizabeth, heaving a sigh. "Adventure is all well and good, but I think it's preferable to have some healthy leisure time between near-death experiences." She gestured at the numerous boats pulled up on shore. "Looks as though we have our choice of transport, gentleman. You to the Pearl and me to the Dauntless, then?"
Jack started, rousing Will from where he'd been slowly drifting to sleep on his feet. "She's here still? Thought they were supposed t' keep to th' –"
"The Code, yes, I know," said Elizabeth, rolling her eyes. "You pirates are a bloody nonsensical lot, you do know that?" She hugged herself in her red coat, grinning smugly. "It seems I know many of the crew secondhand, thanks to your stories. I managed to convince a few that they owed you a favor or three. Also I described the treasure in sordid detail."
Jack saluted her. "You'd make a fine pirate, Lizzie m'girl."
"Yes, well, it'll take all the savvy of a pirate for me to convince James and my father that we are urgently needed in Port Royal and haven't the time to go tearing off after you."
Jack cocked his head to the side and thought about this for a moment, amused that she had used the commodore's first name. He really did love weddings, especially ones he wasn't meant to attend. "Try a swoon or two," he finally said. "It seems to work for you."
"What?" Will mumbled, lifting his head from Jack's shoulder to peer sleepily at Elizabeth. "Are you off?"
"Yes," she said with a smile, "and I'd like to –"
Will suddenly shook himself, pushing at Jack's arm. "Wait a moment, something needs to be done." Elizabeth knit her brows in confusion as Will whispered in Jack's ear. He nodded, peeling the boy's arms off and making sure he could stand on his own (he wobbled briefly, but held). Elizabeth called after him as he ducked back into the cave.
Barbossa was lying on his back, eyes staring sightless at the rock ceiling above. Jack crouched beside him and looked at his still face. Flies circled it but moved off again, knowing they'd get no sustenance from this flesh
"I could hate you for what you done to me, Hector," he said, his voice flat. "For what you stole all those years ago, an' what you tried to take tonight." And he did; the feelings churned in his gut, warming his insides. He grasped his hatred tightly as he had for ten years, and then he let it go. "This ends here," he told Barbossa's body.
It was surprisingly easy, as easy as reaching out to lift Elizabeth's silver cross free of Barbossa's neck. He snapped the chain and stood, wincing at the creak in his knees.
Elizabeth and Will were seated on the edge of a jollyboat when he arrived, their heads bent close together. They looked up and smiled at him as one, and his breath caught at what a picture they made. A single meeting eight years ago yet here they were, chattering away like kindred souls. If things, perhaps, had been different...
Will got up slowly and Jack hurried over to steady him. Things had not been different; they were what they were, and no amount of pondering was likely to change that.
Elizabeth stood as well, covering a yawn with her hand. "I'd better get back before they send a convoy after me."
"Did you get it?" Will wanted to know. Jack pressed the necklace into his palm, hooking an arm around his waist as the boy offered his prize to Elizabeth.
"This belongs to you, I believe," he said rather shyly. Jack, remembering how familiar he'd been with the women of Tortuga, had to bite back a chuckle.
She gasped as she took it, her eyes going round as a child's. "I thought I'd never see it again," she whispered, holding it up so it caught the moon's rays. "My father gave it to my mother on their wedding day." Closing her fingers tightly around the little cross, she gave Will a look of deepest gratitude. "Thank you for returning it to me."
"I always meant to," he replied. Elizabeth's throat worked and she threw herself forward into their arms.
"Come back and visit me as soon as you're able." Her voice was throaty with unshed tears, but it was a distinct order.
Jack turned his face into her hair. "Not through your bedroom window though, I'm thinking."
The corners of her mouth turned up. "That's probably a good idea."
The three of them were so wrapped up in saying their farewells that they had entirely failed to notice a small boat cruising up to the beach. Elizabeth shooed them behind a large outcrop of rock. Jack watched, Will warm against his side, as she straightened her hopelessly tangled hair and buttoned the coat across her front.
It was the commodore himself who came splashing ashore, taking his fiancé by the arms.
"Elizabeth." His voice was low and anxious as he leaned down to her. "Are you all right? You should not have left the ship –"
"I'm fine," said Elizabeth, shrugging him off, and Jack chuckled at her put-out tone.
Norrington touched a hand self-consciously to his wig, luminous in the darkness. "I – if any harm had come to you, I would..."
Elizabeth wrung her hands in clear frustration. "No harm has come to me, James. I am not a glass doll to be protected and kept locked away in a cupboard."
"I know that," said Norrington, taken aback. "There's nothing glass about you."
"There is not," she agreed firmly. "Now, if you would move aside so that I could get into the boat?"
There appeared to be a stalemate as Norrington held out his arm, expecting her to take it, and she stood immobile, determined not to. After a moment they reached a compromise; he climbed into the boat and offered just his hand, which Elizabeth gripped as she stepped in beside him.
"I think they might be all right, don't you?" Will asked while they waited for the boat to return to the Dauntless.
Jack leaned in, kissed the tip of his nose. "I think they'll be just fine."
Will slept all the way back to the Pearl, perched between Jack's legs and leaning back against his chest. It made rowing an interesting conundrum, but he would not have disturbed the boy for all of Cortez's treasure. He had to knot a rope around Will's waist to haul him aboard, though the ride up woke him thoroughly. He crawled over the side with pink cheeks and a glare directed at the back of Jack's head. For the moment, Jack passed him over in favor of the helm. He closed his eyes, holding to the wheel and hearing the Pearl sing to him for the first time in far, far too long.
"She's missed you." Will, it seemed, had gotten over his embarrassment. He stepped up from behind, nuzzling past Jack's hair to where his neck met the hinge of his jaw. Jack pulled one hand away to lay it over both of Will's clasped about his waist. He didn't speak until he could pick out the thud of a heartbeat behind him, strong and steady.
"No worries," he said, turning his head just enough to be able to touch his lips to the corner of Will's mouth. "I don't mean t' see her taken from me again."
"Good," Will sighed, aligning the rhythm of his breathing to Jack's. "Good," he repeated more softly.
Jack let his head fall back against Will's shoulder, looking to the sky. The moon had set and the pale light of dawn lingered upon the curving edge of the sea. "It's ours, you know."
"What's ours, love?" He could feel Will's smile, warm like a summer rain and twice as gentle.
"The horizon," he murmured.
"Let's chase it, then," said Will, tightening his arms.
A wave broke against the ship's hull. Her sails had been patched and mended as best the crew could manage in the few hours since they'd taken command. Whether the wind at their stern ever bore them to that stretch of horizon was not important, Jack figured; it was the journey itself that mattered. The journey, and who would be alongside for the whole of it.