 |
|
|
|
|
Author: Guede Mazaka
Rating: PG. Some main characters dead previous to beginning of story.
Pairing: Mainly, Will Turner/James Norrington, Jacques/Jack/José Gaspar.
Feedback: Favorite lines, constructive suggestions, etc. are all welcome.
Disclaimer: None of this is mine except these versions of Jacques and José (sort of).
Notes: Jacques uses the occasional French phrase (still shouldn’t interfere with reading); translations upon request. //words// in Spanish. Modern-day parallel universe. Jacques looks like Brad Pitt, and José like Antonio Banderas. Some supernatural stuff. Special guest from Shrek II.
Summary: And what comes after.
***
“Better visit hell in your lifetime than after you’re dead.”—Spanish proverb
* * *
During the day, the desert was a brutal, harsh place that parched men to wizened cruelty, and during the night, it was an icy wasteland that chilled the marrow to fatal brittleness. Its dust was hard and dry and its cliffs were the shattered skeleton of the land, jutting up from crumbling flesh.
Every so often, though, it could be beautiful. Catch it at the right times, in between the normal and halfway past death, and its looks could do more than steal breath. It could take one out of life, easy as flicking a pebble over the lip of a canyon.
“That’s one hell of a drop.” José had come up very quietly from behind, and his voice nearly startled James into losing his balance. “Hey! Watch yourself!”
“Then don’t surprise me.” James had been a safe distance from the edge, so he wasn’t particularly upset. “And you said Will walked here every morning?”
“Something about liking the view.” The other man shrugged, leaning over to watch the rising sun dapple the cliffs in bands of glowing red and brilliant gold and rich purple. “It is pretty good. Almost makes you think there’s nowhere else in the world.”
A hand sneaked about James’ waist, its dirty fingers splaying grime all over his clothing, and not-very-fresh breath huffed over his shoulder. Still, his lips tugged up and he turned to pull Will in front of him. “Did you even brush your teeth?”
“What are you, my mother?” They both made a face, and snickering, Will hastily rinsed his mouth with some tequila. Then he tilted his chin up for a kiss, and James happily obliged, even though he could have done without the hangover reminder. Tequila was probably going to be ruined for him for quite a while.
Or perhaps not. It did go very well with the taste of Will.
“Romantics,” sniffed Jacques. His shirt billowed open to display a thick layer of bandages, and James reflexively laid a hand over Will’s still-healing shoulder. “Sunrise, cliff-top…could you be any more predictable?”
“Shut up. I got wall-sex yesterday, so I’m allo—mmmph.” After a few seconds of determined tongue-work on James’ part, Will finally stopped trying to talk. Instead, he hooked an arm around James’ neck and dragged them closer. Which banged something rather heavy against James’ knees. Will pulled back, more than a little breathless. “Sorry. Forgot I had her…Jack?”
“Right here.” Sparrow’s smirk balanced on José’s shoulder, and his hands were industriously moving into the folds of Gaspar’s shirt. Purring skittered around the plateau, echoed back in distorted echoes from the canyon. Jacques looked mildly jealous, but that expression quickly vanished as Jack reached out to rub a palm over the other man’s bandaged ribs.
It’d been close, for both Jacques and Will. Just one more—but the dice hadn’t rolled that way. For the first time in a long, dark while, they’d come up in James’ favor, and he certainly wasn’t going to question that. Not in the slightest. Because he finally knew just who he was, and where he was going, and with what company. He didn’t have to rely on what had happened before, and now he could look forward with genuine anticipation to what was to come.
* * *
“Well, last day.” Will sounded wistful, even to himself. It was kind of stupid, missing this place, but he was going to. He’d definitely lived in nicer spots, with more people, but this little patch of land had seen a lot. It’d given them shelter and rest. And it’d been the last circle had started, with James showing up, and where it was now ending.
With both hands, Will flipped up the silk-wrapped bundle and carefully handed it to Jack. His shoulder was aching a little, but not enough to really bother him—and anyway, James’ fingers were already massaging it. He relaxed back into the other man and contentedly watched as Jack undid the wrappings to display a strip of night sky.
The Pearl was humming even as she lay quiescent in Jack’s hands, and she sang of bliss and completion as Jack gingerly stroked her seamless flat. “So we’re really done here,” he whispered.
“Yeah. Yeah, we are.” Will took James’ hand between both of his and nibbled at the fingertips. He breathed in, breathed out, and glanced one last time at the landscape. Beautiful…but he was looking forward to finding somewhere that wasn’t overshadowed by Barbossa. “So where to?”
“Wherever you want,” James answered. Then his mouth twisted into a wry smile. “As long as Jack doesn’t drive.”
***