pirate_jack | (no subject)

(no subject)

From here.

"Steady on, lad," Jack mutters, supporting Wellard as the two of them cross first the shore and then the floating pier to the Black Pearl.

They stop there, as Jack looks up the sea-ladder with a frown.

"Can you climb?"

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He bites his lip, frowning.

"I was measuring the yard arm we're going to have to replace, and you- you were saying that Norrington wasn't here. I thought I'd go look for him, he's usually here. ... Didn't I?"

"You did," Jack confirms quietly, still watching him.

"I came after you when you didn't come back."

Wellard blinks, and starts shaking his head-

And stops, wincing.

"I didn't find him- at least, I do not think I did. I don't remember."

He looks at Jack, wide-eyed. "Did something happen? What happened, Jack?"

"It's all right, son."

Jack's voice is low, but steady.

"Had an accident, is all, and hit your head, savvy? Rang it like a bell-- it'll come back to you in time."

A beat.

"Just an accident."

It is supposed to be reassuring. It should be.

... And right now his head hurts too much to try to figure out what is exactly wrong with everything, that it is Not reassuring. Wellard takes a deep breath, and nods slowly at Jack.

("I'll remember.")

"... Things will be alright." He closes his eyes.

"Aye, son. They will."

Jack straightens, swaying, and strides over to a small chest that sits against the wall.

"Now where did I put-- ah."

He comes back across the cabin, and puts one hand on Wellard's shoulder as he holds out a small vial of dark brown glass.

"Take this--it's willowbark, savvy? Help with your head, what's probably pounding like a regiment of drummers about now," Jack tells him.

"Then get yourself into the hammock. I've got work to do, so I won't be needing it for a while."

Thankfully, that is one of the few painkillers Wellard would accept, from his own world and time. With a wry nod to Jack, he takes it carefully.

"Everything's all... twisting about, but it hurts too much to have been laudanum or something like that. At least for things moving around..."

Somehow, this make sense in Wellard's head, as he unstops the small vial and downs it. ...

Though he had forgotten how vile willowbark tea tasted, and this is worse. He gags, taking a quick sip of water.

"Aye, it'll do that for a bit," he says. "Come on now, into the hammock you go-- sleep it off, and you'll feel better for it."

Not that Jack has any intention of letting him sleep undisturbed for too long He's seen what can happen if that's done -- if the lad can't be woken, then he'll need a doctor himself, but otherwise...

"Up you get."

The spinning of the room has somewhat slowed by now- only a little of Jack's help is needed to get into the swinging hammock.

... At least he is able to move better than the last time he had been hurt, and needed help to get into a hammock.

"... thank you, sir."

"You're welcome, son."

As Wellard settles deeper into the hammock, Jack leaves the cabin briefly-- he has something to do.

A short while later, having cut the floating pier from its shore mooring and pulled it back against the Pearl, he returns.

Jack sits down at his table, ostensibly to work on his accounts. He stares at the papers without seeing them, thinking over the day's events and trying to ignore the occasional bump of a very large shark against the ship's hull.

Eventually, however, he hears a different sort of noise-- and in an instant, he's out of the cabin and waiting, out of sight under the quarterdeck stairs.

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