the Dalaverse

Another ghostly tale, J/W this time. I can't help it, I love Halloween! See the PotC Ghost Stories Challenge for more fun.

Everything I've written lately has been fairly innocent. Saving the porn up, don't worry.



Things that Go Bump in the Night


The first time Jack awoke to find his clothing sopping wet, they puzzled over the phenomenon together. It had been strewn across the cabin floor along with Will’s, but not a stitch from Will’s back was damp except where it had touched something of Jack’s.

The second time it happened, Jack pursed his lips, muttered a curse beneath his breath, and forbade Will from mentioning the incident to anyone aboard. Thinking it might be part of some elaborate attempt at humor on Jack’s part, Will decided not to raise to the bait, and kept his mouth shut. As they supped that night, Jack took one bite of his dinner and coughed. Before Will could ask him what was wrong, he launched into a filthy story about a pair of twin mermaids, digging at the food on his plate, waving his fork around for emphasis – but never once lifting it to his mouth. He was so adept at distraction that it was only later Will realized this fact, after Jack left the galley and Will contentedly set about finishing the captain’s meal. Biscuit and fish and dried fruit were all salted so heavily that he spat them out at once and had to drain his ale to rid his mouth of the rotten taste.

There were other strange disturbances – a dead eel in one of Jack's boots, ink spilled across the pages of his ledger, his compass disappearing for twenty-four hours before being discovered in a pile of spew left by the ship’s cat. Jack began hearing things at night, sounds that caused him to jerk awake and remain that way, body rigid as a corpse, for hours at a time. Will didn’t know what these sounds might be, since he couldn’t hear them even when he stayed awake to listen, but the pounding of Jack’s heart beneath his ear kept him up just as well.

He spent nearly a week in a state of perpetual argument with Jack, who refused to consider the possibility that someone in his crew was sabotaging his peace of mind. “Let it go, Will,” he would growl, glaring at him with eyes ringed by more darkness than kohl could account for. “This is no business o’ yours.” Stung by the rebuff, Will would storm out of the cabin, but Jack would always come looking for him, coaxing him back to bed with sincere apologies and nimble dark hands.

On one such night, something in his dreams caused Jack to shout and tumble to the floor, where he shook off Will’s worried attention and buried his face in his hands with a groan.

“That’s it, Jack,” Will declared, swinging his feet over the side of the bunk and reaching for his shirt. “I cannot take this nonsense for one moment longer. I’m going to sleep on deck, and if you won’t look into determining the cause of all this bother, I demand to be set aside at the next port.”

It was a bluff, of course, but Jack’s wide eyes led Will to believe he’d meant it. However, he did not respond with promises of action. Instead he vaulted to his feet and shoved Will back onto the bunk.

The wind being thoroughly knocked out of him, Will found himself too dizzy to react for a moment. When his head cleared he tried to get up, but Jack’s full weight atop him and hands firmly holding his arms above his head made struggle a difficulty.

“All right, Bill,” said Jack in a ringing voice, glancing about the cabin in an irritated manner and ignoring Will’s attempts to get free. He went still with surprise and no little amount of fear when the hanging cot began to swing in violent arcs, apparently under its own power.

“You’ve made yourself clear, mate, and I ain’t denying you’ve a legitimate grievance,” Jack continued, sitting back on Will’s legs and releasing Will’s arms in order to plant both fists on his hips. He rode the rocking of his bunk as easily as he walked the Pearl’s deck upon a swell. “But the simple truth of the matter’s that your son is quite happy in my bed an’ will remain in my bed for the foreseeable future, no matter how you try t’ rattle me.”

The chains gave one last jangle before falling silent. The cot still swayed, but gently, not as though an invisible hand was shaking it. Jack gave a satisfied huff and flung himself down beside Will, looking for all the world like he intended to catch up on much-needed sleep.

“Jack,” Will began, clearing his dry throat. “Jack, what the devil –”

“Hush now, love, don’t go gettin’ ‘im all worked up again,” Jack mumbled sleepily.

“But how –”

Jack yawned against his ear and curled one arm around his waist. “Past time for sleeping ghosts to lie, and for th’ living to get some bloody rest.”