Title: Endeavour
Summary: She didn't say anything as she smiled in gratitude. But for Jack, it was enough.
Characters: Jack, Barbossa, Gibbs, Elizabeth
Pairing: Elizabeth/Will, Jack/Elizabeth
Rating: K
Spoilers: At World's End
Notes: May be read as part of 'His World's End' series but is not explicitly so. If you do, it's post 'Escape'.
She hadn't said anything since their rushed escape from the deck and crew of the Flying Dutchman and although it was justified, it was really rather disturbing – he wasn't used to silence from her. She'd wrapped herself tightly around his torso as they'd floated through mid-air; she'd clung to his neck as they'd splash landed into the sea but since they'd set foot on the Pearl she'd ripped herself from his side and found a spot as far away from him as possible.
He couldn't blame her, really. It didn't mean he didn't want to but he knew that he couldn't; it had been he who, not five minutes ago, had sentenced her to a lifetime of waiting. Waiting – on the whelp; what a waste. In fact, the whole bloody thing was a waste. That boy had an honest streak as wide and as dangerous as Jack's. He smiled at the paradox of the sentence.
He glanced around at the motley crew to see them standing around in anticipation – in wonder of a) where William was and b) what they were going to do next, now that the Endeavour was coming up on their starboard. Without having time to explain, Jack managed to annoy Barbossa again before managing to convince him to join himself at the helm, sparing a glance for the bereaved lass. For someone who'd just lost their fiancé, he noted, she didn't look particularly distraught – perhaps she was in denial. Or perhaps she'd just gotten better at that old 'hide-thy-emotions-until-they-consume-thy' malarkey that people were famous for. She glanced at him and shook her head slightly before looking away. He wasn't sure he wanted to interpret that.
Standing at the helm looking down on his beautiful Pearl, he noticed – with a great deal of distaste – how entirely unbeautiful she looked right at that moment; splinters and shards of wood littered the deck from the huge holes in the side of the ship; half his crow's nest was gone – how, he did not care to know; his sails were shredded and there was lots of dead people lying around – lots of dead fishy people, he noted with some pride. The place was a bloody mess!
His eyes found Elizabeth again and saw the contrasting composure in the contours of her delicate face as she scanned the calm surface of the South China Sea. She looked far to serene for someone who'd lost the last link to her previous life.
It was then in that deatheningly silent moment that he realised he could hear not only his own breathing but that of the three men around him. Short gasps permeated his hearing as they all studied the calm sea for any hint of the Dutchman's arrival. Suddenly, he felt exhausted and found himself wondering if an immortal being felt exhaustion. He growled; he'd never know – not in the close vicinity of the future anyway.
A few murmurs escaped the startled crew and he turned to see the Dutchman emerge from the glorious sea, disrupting the perfect quietness of anticipation. He smiled in triumph – he could imagine Beckett's face when he saw the Dutchman and the Pearl advance on him. A grin of wry satisfaction twisted his lips; revenge was sweet.
As they drew level with the Endeavour, Jack turned and smiled somewhat contentedly as Elizabeth moved to stand beside him. She'd become a fine Pirate – though he'd never admit that to the fiendish murderess. He could hear her calm breaths mirroring his own and he glanced down for a moment in complacent satisfaction.
For a moment, he wondered who would've captained the Pearl for this part of the battle had it been him to had stabbed the heart instead of William. A part of him wondered if there would have been a 'this part of the battle' had he stabbed the heart; he felt his brand burn at the thought and he knew that he definitely would have.
He turned to Gibbs when he saw Beckett at his own helm and murmured "fire".
As the cannon fire echoed across the sea and the cannon balls blitzed through the fine wood of the hull of the Endeavour, he felt smooth fingers on the back of his hand. He glanced down to the fingers and frowned slightly then up to her eyes. She didn't say anything as she smiled in gratitude.
But for Jack, it was enough.