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Bittersweet Homecomings	By : JennyPugh Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > General Views: 3442 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Look Mickey
Mouse, unless you’re a perv, I want Jack a helluva sight more than you do…!

Many thanks to
all those who have reviewed. If I name you all it would probably be longer than
the chapter itself. I will say thank you to Pendraginink for catching me out
though! Believe it or not, I had lain in bed that morning going over the
chapters in my mind and realised that the timeline was too short and was going
to amend it… Constructive criticism is always helpful. Thanks also to Hilary
for editing XX

One more thing,
do you all prefer two chapters posted together once a week or one chapter one
day and the next chapter a few days later? Let me know.

…

Chapter
three: ‘What th’hell d’ya mean, where’s Jenny?’

Jenny sat at the
table, waiting for Jack to return, wanting to make her peace with him and to
try and persuade him to sail to England. She waited and waited until her eyes
drooped shut and her chin rested on her chest and she slept fitfully throughout
the night until the three bells of the morning watch sounded. Her eyes shot
open and she jumped stiffly from the chair, looking around the room for signs
of his return but finding none. Her anger welled up once more and she rattled
the door handle, cursing out loud as it stayed shut. She went and sat down on
the window seat, staring morosely at the fort town. ‘Maybe I could send a
letter to James, explaining the situation and saying that I will visit as soon
as I can?’she thought to herself then shook her head. Mark would not have
sent for her if it was not serious. ‘Why James?’ she thought sadly then
shook her head again. She did not want any of her brothers to be hurt,
although with there only being eleven months between her and James, it was
natural that they would be closer and that she would worry for him more. There
were times as they were growing up when all they had was each other. Jenny
waited for an hour or so more and started to worry. Not only had Jack not returned
but none of the crew had either.

She changed into
a shirt and breeches, reasoning that she would get less trouble in the town
than if she was in a dress then went to the tallboy and pulled out a couple of
pouches filled with coins and tied a sash around her waist, attaching the
pouches. She then unfastened the cord around her neck and tied it to the laces
on her knickers, slipping the heart inside so it was between the fabric and her
skin. She did not want to risk losing it, it was far too precious to her. She
pushed open the stern windows and jumped straight into the water without
hesitation and started swimming the short distance to the shore. Jenny could
see that the ship sailing to Grand Turk that morning was already a hive of
activity as the crew made final preparations to set sail and wondered if the
two men were already on board.
She ignored the
curious looks she got from people as she hauled herself out of the water. Then,
leaving a trail of water behind her, Jenny started towards the town, hoping she
would find some of the crew soon. ‘I hope they’re not in the gaol,’ she
thought, her worry increasing tenfold.

…

‘It is her,
isn’t it?’ Thomas Hall grinned at his partner and they followed behind at a
distance, seizing the opportunity as Jenny turned down an alleyway. Nicholas
Boothe kept watch whilst Hall ran up to her and hit her over the head with his
pistol then picked up her unconcious form and slung her over his shoulder.

‘How are we
goin’ t’get her on board?’ he asked as he rejoined the other man.

Boothe thought
quickly then smiled a cold smile. ‘Leave her here an’ fetch a large trunk. We
can put her in that.’

‘Fer th’whole
journey?’

‘If needs be,
yes. Now go, we don’t have much time.’ Boothe stood guard over the prone woman
until his friend came back with a trunk and they bundled her into it and
carried it down to the docks and to the ship.

‘Ah Mr. Boothe,
you are just in time. We were going to sail without you.’ The captain of The
Marchionne strode over to the two men, eyeing the trunk which they had
placed on the deck.

‘Yes well, we’re
here now. If a member of the crew could show us to our quarters?’

‘Of course, of
course,’ assured Captain Smythe. ‘I do hope there is going to be no trouble,’ he
enquired, looking at the trunk once more and wondering what was in it. He did
not altogether trust the two men from England but they had paid him well for
their passage and he did not want to lose the custom.

‘No, I do not
anticipate there being any trouble whatsoever,’ he replied, lifting the trunk
with Hall and carrying it carefully down two flights of steps and along a
corridor to their cabin.

… … … …

Jack groaned as
the pain shot through his head worse than he reckoned a pistol would have and
he tried to stand but his legs gave out and he collapsed back down. ‘Jenny,’
he thought. Panic coursed through his body which gave him enough strength to
haul himself up and stagger down the alleyway he had found himself in. He
stopped for a moment to try and get his breath back but even breathing hurt.
Jack pulled the shirt out of his breeches and inspected his torso, wincing as
he saw a mass of bruises covering nearly every part of his body. He gingerly
touched his ribs, yelping as he did and confirming his suspicions that some
were broken.
‘Get moving,’
he urged himself, digging deep and continuing on his way.

‘Mother’s love,
Jack! What th’hell has happened to you? Where be Jenny?’ Joshamee Gibbs had
been searching the streets for his captain and now that he was found, the sight
shocked him and he went to help but Jack waved his hands away.

‘What th’hell
d’ya mean, where’s Jenny?’ he gasped, the panic returning tenfold.

‘A couple o’the
lads went aboard and she’s not on the ship. I thought she was with you…’ Gibbs
looked up and spotted John Williams further down the street and called to him,
relieved when he and various other crewmen came charging up towards them.
‘Jenny’s missing,’ he informed them.

‘She’s on
th’ship leavin’ fer Turks,’ Jack whispered hoarsely, finally accepting help
from his men but hissing with pain as their hands touched bruises and broken
bones. ‘Has she left me?’ he wondered worriedly. ‘No.’ He shook
his head, clearing the thought. She had come back to him, he knew she would not
leave willingly.’

‘The ship ain’t
goin’ ter Turks, Cap’n,’ came Daniel Woods’ voice from the back of the crowd of
men. ‘It’s goin’ ter Port Royal.’

‘Get ter th’ship
now.’

‘It’s already
left Cap’n Sparrow, ‘bout an hour ago.’

Jack sagged in
the men’s embrace and they looked at each other worriedly. ‘Get me back ter me
ship. We’ve got ter catch them.’

‘Who did this
Jack?’ Gibbs led the way to the docks, going as fast as Jack could manage,
which was not that fast at all.

‘Th’men I was tellin’
yer about. They’ve got Jenny.’

‘Why?’ came a
chorous of voices and the men quicken the pace slightly, eager to get after The
Marchionne.

‘Dunno,’ Jack
gasped, wanting to go faster and cursing his broken body for not obeying him.

… … … …

Jenny woke with
a start from the nightmare she had been having then realised it was not a
nightmare. She looked frantically about in the dark, realising that she must be
in a chest of some sort. She tried to move but ropes dug into her wrists
painfully, so she tested her legs, sighing dejectedly as she felt ropes around
her ankles also. She shifted in the cramped space and worked at the ropes
binding her hands together but it was useless. Whichever one had tied them had
certainly done a good job. ‘Probably had plenty of pratice,’ Jenny
thought darkly, tensing as she heard their voices from outside. She blinked
rapidly as the lid was lifted and she stared at the face of Nicholas Boothe,
sneering down at her.

‘Aw, don’t she
look sweet, Tom?’

‘Where are you
taking me and why?’ Jenny demanded, shying away as Thomas Hall also squatted
down and peered at her.

‘None o’your
business, Mistress.’ He pulled her up and held a mug to her lips,
tipping it back and roaring with laughter as she gagged and spluttered,
spilling most of the brackish water down her shirt.

Jenny whimpered
as she saw Boothe come towards her with a long piece of rag and she shook her
head violently to no avail and she choked as the gag went around her mouth.
‘Don’t want ya drawing attention to yourself now, do we? We’ll leave th’trunk
open, but ya make a sound an’ I won’t have any compuction about lockin’ ya in.’
he said over his shoulder, as he and his companion exited the cabin once more,
leaving Jenny to cry bitter tears in the increasingly warm cabin.

… … … …

‘Jack.’ Joshamee
Gibbs entered the captain’s cabin without being called with a worried frown. ‘The
Nomad is heading this way on our starboard side. What do you want us to
do?’

Jack sighed and
tried to get off the bunk, ignoring the stern look from Ned Cotton, but lay
back down as spasms of pain darted through him. ‘Can we avoid ‘em?’

‘No, not with
the coastal currents and they are too near for us to make it to open ocean.
Shall I ready the guns?’ Joshamee Gibbs had already ordered it but did not want
to do anything without his captain’s say so.

‘Aye Mr. Gibbs,
make ready th’guns but don’t open fire unless ya think they are goin’ to,
savvy?’

‘Aye aye Cap’n.’
Gibbs and Cotton exchanged a nervous glance then the quartermaster left the cabin,
bellowing orders as soon as the door was shut.

‘Mr. Cotton, I
need ter get to th’helm,’ Jack pleaded, although he already knew the answer.

‘Curse ye scurvy
landlubber,’ squawked the parrot, sitting on the window ledge just above Jack.

‘Damn you man, I
need ter do something.’

Ned Cotton
patted Jack’s shoulder placatingly whilst shaking his head then went about his
ministrations.

…

‘Mr. Gibbs,’
came the cry from the top of the main royal. ‘They’re flying the black.’

Joshamee Gibbs
swore under his breath and looked at Paul Rochester at the helm, who merely
shrugged. ‘At least they not be flyin’ a red, Mr. Gibbs.’

‘No I suppose we
should be thankful for small mercies,’ he smiled, shaking his head ruefully.
‘Run up the flag o’truce Davy,’ he ordered. ‘I want no firing unless I give the
order, is that clear?’ he called to the crew and getting a chorus of ‘Ayes’ in
reply.

‘What is The
Nomad doin’ down this far?’ enquired John Williams as he approached the
quartermaster, his post in the galley deserted now there might be a chance of a
battle.

‘I have no idea
Cookie but it is a helluva coincidence, is it not?’

The two ships
approached each other, almost cautiously. The gun ports on both ships were open
in readiness but for once the crew of The Black Pearl did not want a
fight. The wanted to be off giving chase to the merchant ship in the distance,
on her way to Port Royal. Gibbs’ eyes widened in astonishment as he saw through
his spyglass, Tobias Hoskins standing with Geoffrey Croft at the forecastle and
he started to get a very bad feeling.

‘Stand by,’ he
ordered quietly, adrenaline coursing through his body. Suddenly he was flying
through the air as The Pearl rocked violently from a broadside from The
Nomad and Gibbs screamed for the men to return fire but there were very few
men or cannons that were able to respond. Gibbs felt the ship lurching more
than she should have been and he looked in horror as Paul Rochester lay dead on
the deck beneath the remains of the main mast that had been snapped cleanly in
half by a chain shot. He staggered to his feet and hurried to the helm,
relieved to see that, apart from a few broken spindles, it was still intact but
turning wildly.

‘Get the mast off
him,’ he urged to nearby crewmen, who rushed to lift the shattered mast off the
stricken man and onto the deck whilst Gibbs took over the helm. John and Pete
carried the body of Paul down to the sickbay to join the other half dozen or so
bodies already being transported there, including that of the watchman who had
spotted The Nomad in the first place. Then they hurried below to the
bilges to help pump the water out that was pouring through holes smashed in the
hull by the cannonballs of The Nomad.

‘What
th’bleedin’ ‘ell was that?’ came Jack’s gruff, pain filled voice.

‘The bloody Nomad
opened fire on us and I had run up the flag of truce as well, the bastards.’
Gibbs turned and glared at the other ship, continuing on her way to Fortaleza.

‘What’s th’damage?’

‘Apart from the
obvious, I haven’t had chance to find out yet. But I expect most of the
starboard gun deck to be badly hit.’

‘Concentrate
th’men on repairing th’mast. Once that is mended we can make fer Sao Luis and
carry out proper repairs there.’ Jack leaned heavily against the railing of the
steps leading to the poop deck, suddenly feeling every one of his forty odd
years. ‘I will kill you Valentine,’ he vowed, rage starting to burn in
the pit of his belly. ‘What th’hell are they doin’ here Gibbs? Why did they
fire on us? Why aren’t they chasing us?’

‘God only knows
Jack. D’you reckon they have anything to do with those men an’ Jenny?’

‘I have no
idea,’ Jack shook his head, ignoring the pain wracking his body. ‘All I know is
my woman is on that ship,’ he nodded to the horizon, ‘An’ I intend ter get her
back. Then, I will deal with Valentine.’

…

Authors notes:
Three bells of the morning watch
is 5.30am
The main royal
is the uppermost sail on the main mast.

…
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Bittersweet Homecomings