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New Worlds - Havana	By : danglingdingle Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > Slash - Male/Male > Jack/Will Views: 1459 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The characters are sole property of Disney Corp. No money or other profit is made by using them here. I don't own PotC.

Chapter List
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Flavio was waiting in the hotel lobby when they finally made their way downstairs. Lean and muscular, the young Cuban was leaning against the counter, chatting amiably with the concierge. Deeply tanned, black hair slicked back, open-neck white cotton shirt, baggy pants, and canvas shoes, gave him the appearance of having just stepped off a boat.

He smiled widely when he saw them. “Jack Sparrow!” he said, enthusiastically. “What a wonderful surprise! What brings you to Havana?”

Will raised an eyebrow. “Surprise?”

Jack brushed aside the comment, sweeping the two men towards the door. “Surprise, indeed. I was just mentioning to my good friend here that we could use a knowledgeable guide for our evening’s entertainment.”

Flavio spread his arms. “Then you have found the right man. I will show you all the wonders of Havana, the hottest clubs and hottest babes. Leave everything to me.”

The two kept up their chatter all the way to the street where a taxi waited at the curb. Flavio opened their door with a flourish before sliding into the driver’s seat. The inane babble continued until they had pulled away from the hotel.

Will watched in wonder and some trepidation as Flavio sped through the narrow streets of Old Havana, cobbled roads that had originally been designed for horse and cart, not modern day automobiles, wide chrome and steel models imported directly from Detroit. Most of the streets were too narrow for even one-way traffic, but with a blithe disregard of the consequences, the majority were used as two-way streets. At most corners there were no policemen or lights to guide traffic; apparently the driver who blew his horn first was the one who has the right of way. As a result, it seemed most of the Cubans drove along at a merry clip, one hand constantly pounding the horn.

Another horn blare and they were careening around a blind corner and down another side street, passing the towering dome of the Capitol Building, a monument to Batista’s love affair with all things American. The Plymouth sped through the narrow streets of Old Havana and then onto the broad boulevards of central downtown before swerving onto the Malecón.

“I do not believe we are being followed,” Flavio said, after checking his mirrors for the dozenth time.

“Followed?” Will turned quickly to look behind them. “Would either of you like to explain what is going on?”

Jack laughed. “Nothing. Which is a good thing.”

“One can never be too careful these days,” Flavio added. “Batista, he has his agents everywhere. Watching, listening.”

“Why would he be watching you?” Will asked. “Jack? Is there something ELSE you are not telling me?”

Flavio was the one who answered. “Captain Sparrow, he has done great things for our cause. If he were suspected of assisting the rebels in the hills, Batista’s secret police would have him arrested, and tortured. Or worse.”

“Is this true?” Will grasped Jack’s arm in alarm.

Jack waved off Will’s concern. “Flavio here exaggerates. I have done nothing more than provide passage once or twice for some of his friends. Nothing to be tortured over.”

“You can never be too careful,” Flavio reiterated. “It is best that we pretend we are merely acquaintances, while in Havana.”

Will tapped Flavio on the shoulder. “Stop up there, would you please?”

Flavio did as instructed, pulling the car over and parked beside the wide sidewalk that bordered the seawall.

“Jack, out. We need to talk.” Will said, opening his door. Once they were alone, he turned and questioned Jack. “I thought we had an agreement, to stay out of the lives of others, including their civil wars and revolutions.” He shook his head in frustration. “This is not your argument, Jack.”

“Didn’t say it was,” Jack said, pointing a finger at Will. “But, unlike you, I live inthis world most of the time, and I cannot just sit back and see people I care about tortured and killed at the hands of a brutal megalomaniac. I’m telling you, Will, this Batista is as bad if not worse that Cutler Beckett. Thousands have disappeared, bodies turn up every day it seems, mutilated before being murdered, some of them just kids.”

“So you decided to take up their cause, the rebels in the hills?”

Jack didn’t answer, just stared out at the choppy waters of the bay, the waves hitting the seawall below bringing with them the salty tang of the sea. Will looked at Jack's stern profile and touched his arm gently. “You know we can't help everyone. You know we aren't even supposed to. We're accidents ourselves, you do realize that, don't you Jack?”

At that Jack glanced up at Will, seriousness engraved into his very being. He covered Will's hand with his own. “Yes. Yes I do. But we can do our best.”

The two men stood there in silence for a minute, Jack’s eyes on the horizon, Will’s on Jack. Finally, Jack broke the silence. “Will, you and I, we see things differently, live in different worlds. Yours is full of sorrow and death, you see first hand the terrible loss that comes from wars and such. Me? I get to live with the aftermath of it all, the ruins of people’s lives, their struggles. How can I ignore them and just walk away?”

“What happened to the man whose motto was ‘Take what you can, give nothing back?’”

Jack searched Will’s eyes. “He found out forever is a very long time.”

Will put his hand on Jack’s shoulder and squeezed it affectionately. “So these ‘bearded ones’ in the mountains, they offer a better life? From what I’ve seen, life is pretty good for the habaneros. I mean, look at this place?” Will swept an arm to encompass the skyline of Havana, with its towering hotels, modern monuments to wealth and prestige, glistening in the golden light of the setting sun.

“For some,” Jack amended, “and most of them are guaranteed only the most marginal of existences. Come, let us explore the Havana night. You can see for yourself.”

“What happened to Cojimar?” Will was not certain he wanted to spend a wild night in Havana. Accustomed to the solitude of the Dutchman, the teeming nightlife of Havana was sensory overload.

“Tomorrow, mi pichón. Tonight will be our last night in Havana.” Jack wrapped an arm around Will’s shoulders and headed him back towards Flavio and the waiting taxi. “If we are to understand why they wish for a revolution, we must see what it is they are revolting against. Aye?”
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New Worlds - Havana