Pirates of the Caribbean Oneshots

Illness (3)

The light hurt. Jack whimpered and buried under his covers in an attempt to escape from the brightness that was hurting his head.

He shivered a little, curling into a ball and pulling the covers around him to block out the light.

Settled by the rock of the ship, he went back to sleep.

A hand shaking his shoulder woke him some time later.
"Jackie, c'mon you've been asleep all morning apparently. It's past my wake-up time now."

"Dad..." Jack mumbled.

A moment later his dishevelled head emerged from under the covers and he immediately climbed into his father's lap, curling up with a yawn as he shivered slightly.

A frown appeared on Captain Teague's face while he ran a hand through Jack's brown hair, fixing it from its sleep-messed state.

"Ye need a haircut Astóirín," he murmured. His hand rested briefly on the boys forehead, feeling the slight temperature that heated his skin.

"Pirates have long hair."
Jack sneezed, then snuggled against Teague, who felt a smile appear on his lips as he put an arm gently around him, his other hand still running through his hair.

Jack glanced up at him.
"I don't feel good."

"What's wrong?"

"Head hurts, but you petting me is nice. And my stomach feels funny."

The smile stayed on Teague's lips at his son's use of the word "petting" to describe his fingers in his hair, slightly amused by his logic.

"Funny like you're gonna be sick or need the toilet or something else?" he asked, referring to his stomach.

"I don't know," Jack mumbled quietly, looking upset. "I want Mum."

"It's alright. I want her too," Teague said softly, missing his wife, who was on her own ship.
Soracha, the ship's doctor and his best friend who travelled between their ships, was currently aboard that ship too.
He was very much regretting persuading her to stay on the Misty Lady with Roxanne rather than accompany him and Jack aboard the Troubadour, missing both her company and her medical skills, which would be very useful right now.

Jack whimpered. "When will Mum be back?"

"We're going to meet her at home remember? She was going to England when we were in Spain and now we're going home again to see her. She'll be at home when we get there."

"I want to see her now," Jack murmured, his eyes half-closed.

"Go to sleep and dream about her," suggested Teague gently, fingers still running through his hair.

"Not the same..." he trailed off into a yawn and was asleep within minutes, curled in Teague's lap.

The cabin door opened. "Cap-"

"If ye wake him, I swear to god I'll kill ye." Teague spoke without looking up from his sleeping son, his quiet voice full of warning.
"What d'ye want?"

"You're wanted at the helm."
Devon, a tall, thin man with dark curly hair and sea-green eyes, lowered his voice, recognising the weight behind his captain's words.

"For feck sake, can't somebody else do it?"

"No. Apparently you're needed to check the course or something."

"Why the fuck did I let Sahara sail with Roxanne?" Teague muttered under his breath as he slowly and carefully shifted Jack into bed, making sure he was sleeping comfortably before following Devon out, leaving the door ajar so any noise Jack made would carry to reach him at the helm.

While steering, he was on alert, listening intently for any disturbance coming from his son and then getting irritated because it meant he wasn't paying as much attention as he should be to the Troubadour's wheel.

Finally, after several hours, he had himself relieved and returned to his cabin.

Jack, who had been awake for a while, emerged from under the covers and immediately curled up in Teague's lap.

"How do you feel now?"

"Bad."
Jack had his head bowed, not looking at him.

Teague noticed a smell and, pulling back the bedcovers, discovered it's source.

"Oh Jackie," he murmured, now noticing the dribbles of vomit on the front of Jack's nightshirt, as well as a bit on the side where he must have lain in it.
"Take your nightie off while I find you something clean to put on."

He found Jack one of his shirts and got him changed before starting to deal with the bed.

"Imagine what the Brethren Court would say if they saw their Code Keeper now," he muttered to himself as he disposed of the filthy bedcovers and gathered an armful of clean ones, starting to change the bed.

Once it was done, he sat behind the desk in the day room to get on with paperwork, leaving the door open to keep an eye on Jack and let him come to him if he needed to.

After half an hour, he sighed and stacked his papers again, having made very little progress.

Uncorking a second bottle of wine, he sat on the end of the berth, watching Jack as he slept.

Curled next to him was Regan, Teague's Irish terrier. The dogs eyes were fixed on Jack, one ear cocked in Teague's direction.

"Christ, I wish Roxanne was here."
Dark eyes fell on the slim gold band on his wedding finger.

He sighed again, missing his wife just as Jack was missing his mother.

The image of Roxanne at the helm of her ship came into his mind: her head high, hair caught in the wind, the sword he'd given her for a wedding present on her hip. Fierce and defiant and beautiful.

Jack stirred and Regan whined, licking his hair.

"Get off..." Jack muttered sleepily.

"He's worried about ye Jackie," Teague said, taking a sip of wine.

Jack hummed, turning over to lie on his back.
"Can I have a cup of tea?" he asked softly.

"Aye. I'll make one for us both."
Teague corked his wine and left the cabin, returning bearing two steaming mugs.

He gave one to Jack and sat down with the other.

Jack blew the tea before sipping slowly, staying quiet.
After a couple of sips he set the mug aside.
"You don't make tea like Mum does."

Teague ran a hand through his hair as he sipped his own tea. Choosing not to reply to that statement.

After several moments, he got into bed beside Jack, wrapping his son in his arms.

Jack curled up, slowly drifting off to sleep, safe in his father's embrace.

CupcakeTheNightFury  Thanks for the prompt!