Lesser of Two Weevils
By: Missfortune
Disclaimer: Not Mine
Warnings: PG
Pairing: Jack/Will
Notes: A small drabble of many.
Summary: Mr. Cotton and his parrot keep Will company.

Will stared at the door that Jack had exited from. He looked around wildly for something to throw. An empty rum bottle sat near the bed and he picked it up to throw, but found no strength in his arm to do so. The bottle slipped from his grasp and shattered on the floor near the bed. Will cursed angrily. He cursed Jack. He cursed his complete lack of strength. He cursed the captain of the Cobra and finally, he cursed the fact that he'd survived being shot. Why? He could have easily died out there. Jack didn't want him and he had nothing else to live for, so why then was he saved? Why did he wake up to Jack snuggled up against him like he did after a long night of passion? Why?

No answers came to him. Only hot tears of anger and sorrow, punctuated by muted sobs that rocked his chest. He pulled a pillow up over his face not wanting anyone to hear his pain. He had to try and control the hard sobs as they shook his body, disturbing his wounds. After a while, he felt as if he had no tears left. "If I don't have tears, can I cry blood?" Will wondered aloud in a soft broken voice. That way he wouldn't have to face Jack again or deal with any of this pain, both the physical pain, and the dull empty ache in his heart.

After spending some time lost in daydreams of his own demise, Will eventually became aware of the fact that he needed to use the bathroom. He looked over the edge of the bed and eyed the shards of glass spread across the floor. Will groaned. Even if he managed to stand by himself, he couldn't avoid all the glass on the floor. He laid back with a frustrated sigh. The door began to open and Will glared, thinking Jack was returning, but instead of Jack, Mr. Cotton and his parrot entered the room with a tray.

"Braawk! Shiver me timbers," The parrot squawked as it took off from Mr. Cotton's shoulder and began flying around the room. Mr. Cotton sighed as he approached with the tray.

"Watch out...I had an accident with a rum bottle," Will frowned, indicating the mess.

Mr. Cotton nodded, stepping around the glass as best as he could, though a few shards still crunched beneath his boots. He motioned for Will to sit up and Will managed to get himself into a somewhat comfortable sitting position with his back propped against the pillows. The pirate set the tray on Will's lap, before leaving. The parrot flew over to the bed and landed beside Will, looking up at him. Will looked at the bird as it began to stare intently at the piece of hardtack on the tray. Will watched as a weevil crawled out and he carefully pushed the hard biscuit over to the bird.

"Lesser of two weevils!" The bird crowed as it began to nibble on the hardtack.

Will shook his head as he turned his attention to the bowl of soup and cup tea that remained on the tray. He slowly sipped the soup, sighing as it warmed his stomach. He watched as Mr. Cotton returned with a broom and began to clean up the glass.

"Swab the deck, ye scurvy dog!" The parrot cried as it flapped it's wings.

Mr. Cotton gave the bird a bemused look as he swept away the glass. Will silently finished his little meal and set the tray aside. Mr. Cotton had set himself to work tidying up the rest of Jack's cabin.

Hesitantly, Will called out to him. "Mr. Cotton?" The silent man turned, his expression questioning. "I have to go," Will said quietly, his face flaming.

The other man nodded in understanding. He picked up the bucket he'd used for the glass and brought it over to the bedside. He helped Will out of bed, steadying him before turning his back and allowing Will to relieve himself into the bucket. Will vaguely wondered who'd been taking care of that particular function when he was ill, but didn't ask, knowing he wouldn't get much of an answer. When he was done he climbed back into the bed. Mr. Cotton indicated that he should roll over. With a sigh, Will did so. He felt careful, calloused fingers probing his back and the bandages wrapped around him. After the fingers left, there was a rattle as the pirate picked up the tray. The parrot flew onto it's master's shoulder and the duo quietly left. Will was grateful for the silence. He didn't want to put up with any questions or talking. All he wanted to do was go back to sleep and stay that way. And yet, Jack had been there when he first woke up. What did that mean? He didn't want to think about it because he didn't want to hope. But as he closed his eyes, he couldn't help but wonder if Jack would be there the next time he woke.

To Be Continued...