Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean.
A/N: Sorry- I know it's been done to death, but I couldn't resist.
Nearly Was
He holds a bottle of old rum in each hand, and she decides to drink for lack of anything better to do. Being stranded on a deserted island isn't nearly as exciting as she thought it would be; really, it's quite boring. She'd already stomped her anger out by walking on the beach in circles numerous times, all the while thinking of fruitless escape attempts, Will, and ways to murder that bloody Jack Sparrow. Elizabeth still resents him for telling him the truth about his time on the island- how the hell were they going to escape now?
(After all, she had spent much of her adolescence fantasizing about Jack Sparrow the legendary dashing pirate who would come to sweep her off her feet. Discovering that the real Jack Sparrow is a selfish coward who cares for nothing but his ship and the sea and perhaps copious amounts of rum is quite disenchanting. It takes a while to sink in.)
Jack's never heard of her favorite pirate song, but he seems interested and she decides to teach it to him. They play a drinking game- every time he gets a verse right, they both chug half of their current bottle. Soon they are barely able to stand, stumbling around the fire in a drunken haze while intensely chanting and slurring Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me, the infamous pirate song that she's now sure no pirate sings.
He leans in close to her face, smelling of rum and the sea, and while she knows that he isn't nearly as handsome or kind as her Will, he's there and who knows how long they will be on this godforsaken island. She wonders what it will be like to kiss a pirate.
Then he pushes it too far too quickly, and she comes back to earth with a startling jolt. Remembering what James- no, Commodore Norrington- had told her about signal flares (from before he wore the wig and treated her like a piece of fine china), she gets Jack drunk enough to pass out before she practically burns the wretched island down. She knows her escape attempt will work, but she cannot help but think she also just signed both their death warrants.
The next morning, he is understandably mad, especially about the rum. It is unsurprising that he cares more about the rum than the food. Elizabeth knows she missed her chance. Yet she feels merely a slight tug in the back of her heart, preferring to focus on finding Will and ignoring her splitting headache.
They'll only have that could-have-been, should-have-been, nearly-was-but-wasn't moment on the island. It hurts a little; she tells herself she does not care as she sees a ship on the horizon. She is relieved that her adventure with Jack is over and wishes it had been Will instead.