Title: Good Fortune
Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Character/Pairing: Jack/Will
Rating: PG-13/T
Challenge/Prompt: fan_flashworks #142: Fortune
Warning(s): Character Death
Word Count: 1,173
Date Written: 4 January, 2016
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Disney, not the author, and are used without permission.



He doesn't even see the woman until she speaks to him. She's beneath his notice, as most women are. There's only one for whom he has eyes, and that special person was taken from him years ago, just as most people he's known have been since. It's been a long time since Jack carried on an actual conversation with any one, and he isn't in the mood tonight to do so, either. But the woman beckoning him forth to her table now reminds him of another from long ago, one whom he once considered an ally and who helped to bring him back to life.

Such as this life is, he thinks miserably for he'd much rather be dead. At least, then, he'd be sailing the Dutchman with his beloved. He's been seeking death for a while now, in battle and at the bottom of his bottles of rum, but he won't die a coward. Even now, Jack's determined to go out blazing -- or so, he thinks. Perhaps, he thinks as he acknowledges the woman with a haunting gaze, this wench will prove to be the means to that end.

"I can tell your fortune," she says, and she speaks the same as did Tia Dalma years ago. He wonders if perhaps they even learned their magics from the same Witch, but he doesn't need his fortune told.

Still, if she can tell fortunes, perhaps she can be useful for other things, as well, so he takes the seat across from her, bottle always in hand. "Do shtell," he slurs, never one to appear as sober as he actually is. The rum doesn't help any more. It stopped helping years ago when he lost Gibbs, but it's a habit that, as many are, is hard to break.

"Tonight," she says, waving her hands over a cup at whose contents Jack doesn't bother to peer, "you will experience great passion."

He spits on the floor, pushes his chair back, and jumps to his feet. "Wench, yer th' last t'ing I need tonight or any night. Find ya another Pirate, one who might actually be interested in yer wares." He turns and strides away, not bothering to sashay for a change as he goes, quickly leaving the tavern, and the wench, behind him.

He walks so fast, in fact, that he doesn't hear the dark-skinned Gypsy call after him. He doesn't hear her try to explain that she isn't the one offering the passion but that it will come from another when he least expects it. And he most certainly doesn't hear her laughter that fades away into the night as she fades from the tavern.

=^.^=

It's cold tonight, and he knows he should seek shelter or at least go to a ship. He doesn't want to be bothered with any more wenches, however, and he hates having to board another man's ship. He still misses his Pearl, as he does so many others. She was always much more than just a boat to him. He'd once thought she would deliver his dreams to him, but all of that died with his cherished Will.

So instead of seeking shelter from the rising, cold wind, and the storm he can feel brewing, Jack simply sits on the dock. His legs dangle off of the pier, his bare feet skimming the water. He sold his boots tonight for another case of rum. It doesn't matter, he tells himself; he'll just steal another pair off of the next, unsuspecting, would be Pirate who comes ashore.

Nothing really matters any more, he thinks sullenly, downing more of his rum. Exhaustion is catching him, but he still doesn't want to be bothered with trying to find a room for the night or a new ship with which to sail. None of the newer Pirates appreciate his legend, and he's tired of letting another man be Captain over him. He is a Captain, after all, even if he no longer holds his own ship. He'll always be a Captain, just as his heart will always belong to the Captain of the Flying Dutchman.

He's already got one arm wrapped around a pole when he leans his head against the wood. His eyes drift closed. Listening to the sound of the sea, who even now sings such a sweet lullaby, Jack drifts into slumber, and it is to her sounds he awakens again, although much later. The storm has passed. He's evidently dropped his rum again for his hands are empty. A ship rolls underneath him.

Jack's kohl-rimmed eyes pop wide open. The ship sways again underneath him, and Jack realizes two things at once: He is no longer on the dock. He's in a ship, and in a bed. His body sings with renewed life, but the last thing he remembers is taking a nap on the dock.

"Hmm. Good morning, sweetheart," a voice he knows well murmurs in his ear, and then lips are cascading down upon his. He's kissed sweetly and with passion by a mouth whose tender, delectable taste he would know anywhere.

He pulls away, eyes even wider. His hands clutch the body in front of him as he takes a good, long look at the handsome face he'd come to fear he would never see again. "Will?! WILL!"

"Jack," he breathes his name, and then he frowns.

Jack knows the reason for that frown, but he doesn't care. It doesn't matter that he'll never breathe again, doesn't matter that he no longer lives. Indeed, this is the moment for which he has lived so many years pass his prime. "WILL!" he cries again, throwing them both back down onto the bed. His eager hands try to claim every spot of his younger lover's body at one time.

He finally understands the cliche of laughter sounding like music as Will's deep chuckle resonates throughout the Dutchman's cabin. "We have plenty of time, Jack," he assures him, but when he leans up and again captures Jack's mouth with his own, his searing kiss makes it clear that he's just as hungry and impatient for Jack as he is for him.

"We have forever." Those words ring through them both as Jack tears at Will's clothes. His mouth desperately tries to trace the same path his hands have already traveled, all the way down Will's body and back up again, but in between starving kisses, he gasps to him words he should have told him years ago, "I . . . love . . . you!"

Will laughs again, but it's a joyful laugh. "I love you too!" he answers, and Jack knows he's home. He's complete at last, mission, heart, and soul. He has Will and forever in which to enjoy him. He has everything!

=^.^=

Back on the shore, a body is found. A Gypsy laughs and smiles, because she knows, far more than the mortals who found the body, that her old, Pirate friend is finally happy. She smiles for him and disappears again.

The End