I don't own anything.

What transpired on the boat back to New York City.

Commit This to Memory

Ann was inconsolable. She wouldn't speak with anyone. Every moment of every day it took to return to New York City, Ann lived with the guilt and pain that gnawed at her. She was but feet from Kong, under the deck of the ship, captive in a small cage, frightened, angry, confused and kept drugged.

Most of the time, she slept. Sometimes her sleep was plagued by nightmares of his brutal murder and sometimes, even worse, by beautiful dreams of curling up in the crook of his big arm. But most of the time, her sleep was dark and deep and mercifully numb, thanks to Carl's whiskey Englehorn had mercifully placed outside her door. She knew it had to have been him. The captain was alarmingly perceptive and knew exactly what she wanted; drunken oblivion.

Always, when she woke, there was a fresh tray of food just outside her door. For the first few days she'd eaten nothing, hadn't slept. But the human need for food outstripped her pain. She still wasn't eating much, but it was a relief to Jack when he'd walk by one of the many times he walked by her door every day, to see half her bread and stew gone.

He'd gone in only once, right after they boarded the ship. Ann went straight to her room, shaking out of the hands of her guides and holding her head high in indignation as tears of grief and anger rolled down her cheeks. Jack followed slowly behind her, knocked on her door. She didn't answer, he didn't expect her to. When he stepped inside and shut it behind him, Ann was standing in front of her vanity, leaning her hands on the desk and hanging her head. Tears dripped off her cheeks and plodded softly in the dish of powder and the jewelry lain there.

"Go away." She snapped, but her voice was cracked with tears.

"Ann, please-"

"No, Jack." Ann spun to face him angrily. Despite her tearstained face and dirty, haggard appearance, she was frightening. Or maybe because of it. "You don't get to beg me for anything. You don't get any understanding or patience from me. I didn't get any from anyone. He didn't get any!" She pointed to the floor, under the deck to Kong.

"I'm sorry." Jack ceded, holding his hands out for her. All he wanted was to hold her. He spent the last two days thinking of only her, braving death and worse things for her. Now she was safe and her angry eyes were burning a hole through him. He hadn't known such pain in his whole life. What made it worse was the pain behind her anger, as well. Grief for that giant ape he'd rescued her from.

"I don't want an apology from you. I don't want anything from you. Go away. Get away from me!" She shouted, pushing him back against the door and storming into the bathroom, over the overturned furniture and strewn clothes.

Jack exited, defeated. Outside her door, he leaned his forehead against it, fingertips brushing down the wood as if it were her skin. "I love you." He whispered.

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Ann had first bathed and gotten into clean clothes. When she couldn't sleep anymore, she cleaned and organized her room. Seeing the broken furniture reminded her of the night the dark people came to take her to him. She wondered if everything would remind her of him.

The dirty, torn nightgown she'd worn those days was laid out on a chair neatly so she could look at it. Imagine herself in it, lying in his hand. Taking shelter under his big arms as he rescued her from the dinosaurs.

Had it really happened? She asked herself that question, too. It seemed like a dream, now. She didn't want to forget, although sometimes it seemed more painful to remember. Still, she went through every detail of it until she cried herself to sleep again.

Ann felt hollow. Kong wasn't a monster. He wasn't even a beast. He had a heart. He could feel and hurt just like her. That was the only thing she was sure of anymore.

When she'd opened her eyes early that morning to see Jack reaching out for her, there was a terrible moment of uncertainty. It seemed wrong to leave Kong, but she couldn't stay with him forever. She needed food and human companionship. She needed Jack.

But he didn't seem to understand her anymore. She wasn't sure if he wanted to. Who would want a woman who would defend a giant beast who'd killed half the crew of the Venture?

But Jack answered that question when he knocked on her door a few days before reaching New York. It was nearly dinnertime, and Ann was wearing a knee skirt with the blouse untucked and no shoes. Her hair was mussed from sleep, but clean, and she wore no makeup.

Ann didn't even think of her disheveled appearance when she called out, "Who is it?"

The door cracked open and Jack looked around it to her. "It's me."

Ann said nothing, so he entered and stood before her. She did not seem as emotional as his last visit. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. Ann was sitting on the edge of her bed, half empty whiskey bottle dangling precariously from her fingertips. Her elbows rested on her knees, her head hung. There were three empty whiskey bottles strewn on her vanity. Jack vaguely wondered how she'd swiped them without anyone seeing. Maybe someone had brought them to her.

"How are you?"

Ann didn't answer, just looked him in the eye, then down at her feet. She felt the bed give beside her, felt Jack's hand on hers. He set the whiskey bottle on her bedside table and interlaced their fingers.

"Ann, I'm so sorry. I had no idea what Carl was planning."

She just shook her head, her hair falling about her face. "It doesn't matter. Nothing matters anymore."

"Don't say that. You matter to me."

"You don't understand."

"No, I don't. So tell me."

"I can't explain it." She looked up at him, eyes teary. She'd obviously had more than a little of Carl's whiskey that day. "He was lonely, that's all. All of his kind had died. He needed a friend, like any human."

"He wasn't human, Ann."

"I know that! And don't refer to him in the past tense! He's not dead yet, though who knows how long he'll survive being a captive." She sighed, drug her hands down her face. "He didn't mean anyone any harm. He just didn't know any better. All he wanted was a friend. He was my friend." Ann looked to Jack with innocent, pleading eyes. "I'm sorry."

Jack suddenly wanted a long pull of whiskey. She was killing him. He pulled her into his arms and to his relief, she wrapped her arms around him as well.

"You have nothing to apologize for, darling." He kissed her shoulder. "You did nothing wrong."

Ann clung to him tighter, tears washing over her anew. Not for Kong, though. For Jack. He'd been through hell and back for her and she was nothing but ungrateful and contemptuous. She pulled back enough to press her lips to his. Ann was desperate for him. She needed him to keep her on the ground, keep her from losing her mind. Needed to show him that she was grateful for him. Ann just needed to feel something other than pain.

She was on his lap, pulling him closer, pushing further, hands on his skin. Jack was drowning in her, but he felt her tears on his face and held her away.

"Ann please stop." He begged breathlessly. The unhindered look in his eyes disagreed, but he held her firmly at a distance. Ann whimpered a little and leaned forward to set her forehead in the crook of his collarbone. Jack released her wrists and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her back to lay on the bed.

Ann pressed her cheek against Jack's chest, his arms loosely about her shoulders. She hitched her knee over his legs and sighed contentedly, the warmth of the cabin, the alcohol and Jack's body next to her lulled her into sleep.

Jack kissed the top of her head, looked down at her lithe body draped over his and cursed his conscience and sense of control, which very nearly got away from him. He pulled her tighter to him, inhaling her shampoo and her skin, and was content to simply hold her for a while.

When she'd been sleeping for about a half hour, Jack carefully disentangled their limbs and slowly scooted off her bed. He wasn't sure if she'd want to see him there in the morning, after she slept off the alcohol. Jack looked out the porthole to see the sun slipping below the horizon, one last orange ray glinted off the moving waves. He turned the door handle quietly.

"Jack?" Ann asked in a quiet voice. She rubbed her eyes and leaned up on her elbow.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"Where are you going?"

Jack paused, looked at his hand on the doorknob, then back to Ann, whose eyes plead with him. He knew the sight would be forever committed to his memory.

"Nowhere." He said softly with a smile, and slid back into bed beside her. Ann smiled and immediately wrapped herself around him again, her head on his chest, and Jack pulled her close, this time drifting into sleep with her.

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The darkness pervaded her very soul. It was all around her, rolling and rumbling in the sky and beneath her feet. She couldn't see anything, but ran blindly through the night. Had to find him.

Ann recognized this feeling, knew she'd had this dream before. She couldn't shake herself awake, no matter how much she wanted to. She just kept running, trying to get away from the darkness, trying to find him.

Suddenly, she tripped over something heavy and landed on cold, wet earth. Ann spun around and felt feverishly with her hands over mud and rocks and sticks until she felt cloth. Torn cloth over a cold body. She knew it was him, but horror caught her voice in her throat as her hands felt up to his face. Her fingers traced the features she knew so well, and a bolt of lightning lit up the sky. Jack's white face stared up at her, expressionless in death. She'd found him.

The scream that had welled in her throat ripped free, and she bolted upright. The blankets were tangled around her legs, and Jack sat up with her, his arms around her. Ann was vaguely surprised to see him alive and the concern in his eyes for her. She hugged him close and cried into his shirt. His fingers worked into her hair and he shushed her sobs and murmured comforting things close to her ear.

When her tears ceased, Jack wiped the stains from her face with his thumbs and kissed her lips. They lay down, but Ann knew sleep would not return for her that night. Jack seemed to know it, too. He waited patiently, brushing kisses over her skin.

"It was you."

"What?" He half laughed.

"It was you I found. I-I've had that dream before. I'm running through the dark, but when I find what I'm looking for, I find Kong in a cage, dead. But this time, I found you…dead." She fought the tears back, and Jack kissed her lips.

"You won't ever have to worry about that. I'll always be here." Jack said slowly.

"Always?" Ann tilted her face up to him, hope in her eyes and voice.

"If you'll let me." He smiled, fingers tracing her jaw line.

"I'll let you." Ann grinned before Jack's kiss landed on her lips.

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Let me know what you think! Oh, and I have an original fiction I don't know if any of you who enjoy my writing will be interested in. It's called The Sham, a total made for TV movie story about an aspiring actress whose sleazy agent gets a big star into marrying her for publicity. I think it's really great, but then again, I'm a little partial. You don't know how happy it would make me if you'd email me and say you wouldn't mind reading it. You'd make my day.

Thanks for reading!

--Austin