The Sense to Recognize
Disclaimer: Not Mine
Notes: A small drabble of many.
Summary: Jack is a little blind in matters of the heart.
The crew snapped to attention as a weary Gibbs stepped out of the Captain's cabin sometime after noon.
"Well?" Annamaria spoke up. "How's the lad?"
Gibbs shrugged helplessly. "He might make it. He might not. He lost a lot of blood. It's all up to Will now, there's nothing else to do."
It wasn't the answer they were hoping to hear, but it was the best they'd get for now. They all knew that Will was a strong one, but everyone had their breaking point and they all had one question settling in their minds. Did Will's running away mean that he had given up? Would he even try to fight, or was it truly too late?
Inside his cabin, Jack was asking himself the same question. He had a chair drawn up to the bed where Will lay face down. Will's skin was nearly as pale as the white linens. His lips were tinged blue and his breathing was soft and rattling. Jack's usual reaction to having Will in his bed was one of desire. Now, all he felt was pain. Will was hurt and the reason he was hurt was because of Jack's stupidity. Annamaria was right. He had been hurting Will. By sleeping with the lad while they were at sea, and then abandoning him for the arms of whores in the ports, he was treating Will like just another whore. However, it was worse than that. Whores were paid to sleep around, no strings attached. Will was different. Will wasn't in it for money, or even simple pleasure. Will had feelings and emotions that got twisted and injured every time Jack turned away from him. Will loved him and every time they stopped in a Port, Jack laughed and threw that love back in his face like some sort of unworthy offering as he let himself go off into the arms of strangers, instead of staying with Will.
He could see it now. He could see it so clearly. But why had it taken so long to really see? Why did it have to come to this? "Why?"
There was no answer, just the faint rise and fall of Will's breath. That small sound was Jack's lifeline; it was his assurance that Will was still alive. He reached out to touch Will's skin, trying to remind himself that Will wasn't yet dead. Will's skin was cold and clammy. They weren't sure how long Will had been in the water. All they could say was that the wound was fairly deep but the temperature of the water had slowed the bleeding somewhat while the salt of the sea helped to cleanse it. Gibbs had patched Will up to the best of his ability. He left telling Jack that it would only take time to see if Will ever woke.
He had to wake. He had to. For Jack wasn't sure that rum and the Pearl would be enough for him without Will. He once thought that rum and the Pearl were the most important things in his life. Somehow things had shifted. They were still important to him, but not the most important things. Will had replaced them. He was the one whose warm smiles were like dancing shafts of light that warmed Jack's life. He was the one whose body fit Jack like the lost piece of a jigsaw puzzle. He was the one that could touch Jack's heart where once there had been a wall of ice. He wasn't afraid to tell Jack what he thought. He wasn't afraid to act on his impulses. He wasnít afraid of leaving his old life behind all for Jack. And what had he given Will in return? A few nights out at sea and a cold shoulder every time they hit land.
What kind of lover was he? That was just it. He was no lover at all, just a stupid blind pirate who didnít have the sense to recognize one of the best things in his life.
To Be Continued...