It wasn't unusual for Jack to find himself wandering the streets of some strange city or another, and certainly Bombay was not a city unfamiliar to the well traveled pirate. The circumstances that brought him here, however, were another matter entirely.
Jack hadn't seen nor heard from Elizabeth in the four years after the battle outside Shipwreck Cove. Not that he expected to, really. Life had sent them on differing paths. She bound herself to Shipwreck Cove, pining away for the whelp, and he began his (hugely unsuccessful) search for the fountain of youth. Besides that, there wasn't much else for them to say to one another. They'd left things mostly amicable between them, but an invisible line had been drawn and choices had been made, leaving the two of them on opposite sides of the coin.
So receiving any correspondence from the Pirate King had been a surprise in and of itself and surely a cause for concern, but Jack wasn't about to jump to her beck and call just because she wished him to. It was only at Gibbs' urging that he made his way to Shipwreck Cove at all.
It took two weeks to persuade Jack to go. Throughout the entirety of the voyage he kept her missive crumpled in his coat pocket. He scoffed at it the first time through, but he'd read it countless times after that, each reading revealed more and more the underlying madness that likely fueled the written words.
My Dearest Captain Sparrow,
I don't know why I feel compelled to write to you, of all people, in this moment. I suppose I have no one else in which to confide. Though, I suspect I'm the last person you'd be inclined to pity.
There is so much I am unable to make sense of and a desperation for something I cannot name that is consuming me, body and soul. Do you ever feel like you're drowning, an unyielding need for breath, but the air is too thick to sustain you?
I feel as if I'm coming apart at the seams. I've become a hollow shell of my former self. I had assumed for so long the cause of my ache was due to Will's absence or the loss of my father, but as time has gone on, those wounds have healed and another has grown in its place.
I'm at a loss. Not even the sea brings me peace anymore. I need your help, Jack. I need to know how to escape this crushing darkness.
Please.
Elizabeth
—
Upon Jack's arrival, Teague had greeted him at the docks. Never a good sign when the old man was out and about, even less as it appeared Teague had been waiting for him. Jack felt the pit in his stomach grow larger with every step toward his father. He couldn't fathom a situation that called for Teague to intercept him so immediately. A crease appeared in Jack's brow as he noticed an envelope clutched between his father's gnarled fingers.
"What is going on?" Jack asked urgently before Teague could utter a syllable.
"This is for you." Was all he said as he handed Jack the envelope.
"Where is she?" Jack asked, staring intently at the wax seal, concern drowning his features.
"I don't know. I was not informed." Teague answered unemotionally.
"She's not here?" Jack asked, incredulous.
"She left over a fortnight ago without a word." Though he didn't understand all of the complexities surrounding the nature of Jack's relationship with Elizabeth, Teague was sympathetic toward his son and the distressed state he seemed to find himself.
"She sent for me…and she's not bloody here?!" Jack was incensed. He wondered if maybe she was toying with him, seeing exactly how far he would go to appease her.
"Got tired of waiting, I suppose. Perhaps you should read whatever message she's left for you." Teague suggested.
Jack sighed and opened the letter. His face fell as he scanned the sloppily written script. It did little to assuage his fears for her sanity or her safety as it gave no indication where she was going or why. It seemed she wished to send him on a wild goose chase to find her or to force his hand in admitting something he had hoped to forget about entirely.
"Will you be staying for the night?" Teague asked knowing full well what Jack's answer would be.
"No." He said quickly and turned on his heel.
—
Jack barged into his cabin, frustration billowing out of his every pore. He plopped himself down in the chair behind his desk, setting a bottle of rum down next to Elizabeth's letter. He stared at the two for some time before finally uncorking the bottle and taking a generous swig while the letter sat spread out, taunting him. He dared to wonder what was going through her head at the time of its writing.
If the sky were falling over us
If the ground below us turned to dust
Would you come to me?
If the birds stopped singing in the trees
Would you come to me?
If your heart is burning like the sun
If it means that you will have to run
If it takes leaving everyone
Would you come to me?
Credit where credit was due, it was quite poetic, but could she really be asking of him what he presumed she was asking of him? Dare he hope that door was not barricaded shut as he previously thought?
Jack took another swig. Vulnerability was not his strongest suit. He toiled back and forth a few times over what course to take and eventually arrived at the decision he was always going to make. Grumbling nonsensically, he knelt before a chest in the corner of his cabin and retrieved a long ago discarded item: his compass.
The compass had led him to Bombay. He couldn't figure what she would be doing in India. Given the especially large presence of East India ships in these waters, one would think it'd be the last place a pirate would venture. To his great relief, however, there seemed to be very few East India soldiers hanging about. He followed the bloody compass to an inn. A ramshackle, rundown establishment filled with all manner of unsavory patrons. He scanned the room, but could find no sign of Elizabeth. Jack approached the inn keeper, asking if he'd seen a young woman fitting Elizabeth's description. The inn keeper's answer was not to Jack's liking. No women had rented any of the rooms upstairs, nor could he particularly recall her having been inside the tavern.
Trying not to feel defeated by this information, Jack exited the inn and flipped open his compass. The needle still pointed, unwavering in the direction of the inn. He couldn't draw attention to himself and demand he be allowed to search the rooms for her. He would have to find an alternate entrance, sneak in undetected. Rounding the corner of the next street, Jack was able to locate an alley leading toward the back of the building. He looked down at the compass and watched the needle swing westward, pointing Jack directly down the darkened passage.
He quickened his pace, dread filling up every fiber of his being. He no longer stared down at the compass, but kept his eyes trained forward, though he feared what they would see. Then it happened. He'd found her. A small sliver of light shone upon her slackened form as if she were an angel. He ran as fast as his legs would allow and knelt before her. Hands bound behind her, she lay in a crumpled heap behind the inn. A small breath still managed to escape her mangled form, allowing Jack to release the breath he himself was holding. Her face was almost unrecognizable, it looked as if she'd been beaten to within an inch of her life. Her shirt was ripped down to her naval, her bindings undone and her breeches were slit open. Jack shuddered at the thought of what had likely happened to her.
He cut the rope wrapped tightly around her wrists, lightly running his fingers over the raw skin that lay beneath. He scooped her up into his arms, holding her close and tucking loose strands of blood soaked hair behind her ear.
"Elizabeth." He whispered to her, but she did not respond. "Lizzie, come on darling. I need you to wake up." He shook her as lightly as he could. She responded with a few small groans but ultimately remained in her unconscious state. Jack couldn't bear to think about the series of events that led to such misfortune, largely feeling great guilt for not going to her sooner.
He was lifting her into his arms in order to carry her back to the Pearl when she stirred.
"Jack." She whispered softly. "You came." She said with childish glee, as if nothing had gone wrong, as if his mere presence was all she ever needed.
"A little late I'm afraid." He answered sheepishly.
"Take me home." She said leaning her head against his shoulder.
—
Jack had just finished tending to Elizabeth's wounds when Gibbs returned from the errand Jack had sent him to complete. She was still unconscious and slightly feverish. Jack was reluctant to leave her side, but was desperate to learn what Gibbs had discovered on his trip into town.
The two spoke in hushed tones in the adjoining cabin.
"Several eye witness accounts all saying the same thing. The lass was full as a goat, carrying on, antagonizing a couple of East India men. Seems she was looking to pick a fight. In no state to defend herself, the two grabbed her and carried her out back. That was more than a few days ago. They've long since shipped out." Gibbs said sadly.
"She was left out in the alley like yesterday's garbage." Jack seethed.
"Probably assumed her dead, in all honesty, Cap'n. There's no sense in pursuing a course of vengeance in this instance. Let's just get her home." Gibbs had to be the voice of reason or they would be heading on a one way trip to the gallows.
"Aye." Jack answered looking more distraught than when he'd set sail to this godforsaken place. "Full Canvas, then."
Gibbs nodded and left the cabin.
Jack returned to Elizabeth's bedside, sitting down in the chair beside her, gently holding her hand in his. "What on earth was in your head, love?" He whispered to her.
"I just wanted to feel something." She answered back in a low whisper, surprising the hell out of Jack as he hadn't expected a response.
"How long have you been awake?"
"Long enough to know that Gibbs told you what happened." She said adjusting slightly in order to find a more comfortable position.
"What in the bloody hell is going on with you, Lizzie?" He brought his other hand to grasp hers tightly.
"Are you worried about me, Jack?" She asked with an impish smile. He gave her a pointed stare in response. "Don't look at me like that?" She added, averting his gaze.
"Like what?" He asked confused.
"Like It's so painfully obvious that you care." She huffed out.
"Is it not? Would I come all this way if I didn't? How do you think I found you?"
"Dumb luck?" She offered.
Jack immediately let go of her hand and rose from his chair, stalking to the other side of the room.
"Jack" she called after him, but he ignored her.
He was rummaging through a few things on his desk.
"Wait…come back…I didn't…"
He made his way back toward her and tossed an item on the bed before she could finish her sentence. She picked up the compass in her hands and stared at it intently, unable to formulate any words.
"There are a multitude of other, less desperate, ways to let a person know that you miss them." He grumbled.
She continued to stare at the compass. "I didn't think you would come otherwise. It's been four years, Jack."
"Four years since you made a choice, upon this very ship, no less. Perhaps you've forgotten. I was merely respecting that choice." Jack said, gripping the back of his chair.
She her turned her face toward him. Her swollen eye and split lip made her appear all the more sad. "I didn't mean for you to stay away. I hadn't planned on losing you too."
"You could have told me." He released his grip and sat back down in the chair.
"What would I have said?" She said barely above a whisper.
"The truth." He said grabbing her hand once more.
"The truth?" She couldn't hide from him anymore. He wasn't going to let her this time. Not after everything she'd put him through.
"Aye, the one thing we seem incapable of speaking to one another." He chortled softly.
"The truth is complicated. The truth does not render things undone." She said sadly.
"No, but it can provide solace to a weary soul. It can unburden heavy shoulders." He was about to enumerate a slew of other reasons to her, but she stopped him when she pulled her hand from his. A deep sigh escaped her as she put his compass in her palm and held it out for him.
She couldn't look him in the eye. Jack peered at the closed lid, eyebrows scrunched in consternation. Did he really want to know the truth of this? Would knowing really help either of them?
He covered the compass with his hand and pushed it back toward her. "I already know." He bent his head toward hers and placed a kiss on the only unmarked spot on her cheek. "I promise, I'll not be a stranger to the Cove If you promise to stop sending for me when you are at your most desolate."
She smiled at him. The depth of his understanding was beyond measure. "I promise." She answered earnestly.
"Get some rest. I'll come back later." He said rising from his seat.
Elizabeth grabbed his hand, stopping him from leaving. "Stay." She asked him, tugging slightly on his arm.
Jack gave a grand roll of his eyes in mock annoyance, but conceded to her request. She maneuvered herself slightly, allowing room for him beside her upon the bed. Jack looked at her with questioning eyes. "Please." She urged him.
He removed his boots and lay down next to her. She curled into his chest, clinging to him with every ounce of strength she had left. Reluctantly he wrapped his arm around her and before long she fell into a deep sleep. He dare not allow himself to find pleasure in such a development. She had all but admitted her love to him, but they both knew there was nothing either of them could do about it. This was as happy an ending as they could ever have. Perhaps he could take a little pleasure in that, he thought as he drifted off to sleep after her.
A/N:
Full as a goat means to be very drunk.
The words in Lizzie's second letter come directly from the song "Come to Me" By Lily and Madeline.