A/N: I feel like I haven't posted anything in ages! ^^ This story was written for a Sparrabeth hurt/comfort challenge at LiveJournal :)
Disclaimer: PotC belong to Disney.
Collusion
She was sitting on the bed with her knees drawn under her chin, numb and listless, just like Teague had said. Supposedly, she was like that for the past four weeks.
Jack doubted she had expected him to come, and yet she did not even look up when he came in without knocking.
Closing the door with his foot, he went straight to the windows and pushed heavy curtains to the sides, letting the sunshine flood one of the Shipwreck Cove's dark, dusty rooms.
"I'd rather have them as they were," said Elizabeth in a slightly hoarse voice, looking at the floor instead of him.
"That's what Teague said." Jack turned around taking a silent notice of the dark circles around her eyes, subconsciously estimating the number of sleepless nights she had endured. "About you."
"So many years without a Pirate King, and now all of a sudden the world can't go on without one? It's very kind of your father to pretend that there is any purpose to my existence." Her voice was blank, and yet there was a hint of curious nonchalance in her tone that puzzled him if only slightly. She was broken, and yet not quite.
"He is not my father," said Jack with a frown. "And even a seaweed has some purpose to its existence, Elizabeth. I don't see how you wouldn't."
Elizabeth chuckled wryly, and for the first time turned her head to look at him. "What a generous comparison. As for Teague, he told mehe is your father."
"Well, he lied." Jack took off his hat, and cautiously put it over a small sculpture on one of the bookshelves. "And if he didn't lie, it only proves more that he can't possibly be my father, aye?"
Elizabeth lifted her chin from her knees, and watched him for a moment. "What are you doing here, Jack?" she asked quietly after a pause.
He turned on his heels, and gave a her a mildly surprised look. "Visiting," he said with a glimpse of a smile in his eyes.
He seemed older, even though she had not seen him for mere four months. Or perhaps it was only that strange look in his eyes, bright and dark at once; simultaneously arrogant and... confused.
From what she had heard, he should have been miles away now, trying to get the Black Pearl back from Barbossa again. The thought crossed her mind, and she could see in his eyes that he guessed what she was thinking, but neither of them said anything.
"Visiting," she nodded, biting her lower lip. "Well, then. Would you sit down? That's what I ought to suggest, I guess," she said quietly in an awkward attempt to sound ordinary, crumbling the edge of the bed cover in her hand. She blinked too many times for it to be natural, and he wanted to look away to give her a chance to hold back tears, but found that for some reason he could not take his eyes off her.
"Lie down," he corrected in a strangely serious voice, almost before she finished her sentence, and she darted her eyes to him in confusion.
The next thing she knew he was next to her, tugging her toward him, and she was so surprised by his warm hand closing around hers that she forgot to protest, and just fell into his arms bursting into tears, wailing and sobbing into his chest. He closed his eyes, wrapped his arms around her, leaned his head against the headboard, and tried to keep himself from doing something unnecessarily ridiculous...
Suddenly, after several minutes she jerked upwards and met his gaze, a haunted look in her eyes.
"I'm not sorry," she whispered in a barely audible voice, and he stared back at her, for a moment taken aback by her words, but determined not to add any more splinters to her heart, especially after what she had just gone through.
"Elizabeth..."
She leaned toward him, and he trailed off, wrinkling his forehead. "I should be feeling awful, and I don't," she whispered in a bizarrely conspirational tone, as if telling him a great secret. Several tears rolled down her cheeks, and he clenched his fist to keep himself from touching her face. "Everybody pities me, and I don't know what they're talking about," she continued in a low, breaking, almost hysterical voice, looking at him with wide eyes.
Slowly, he placed his hands on her shoulders, and pulled her back into an embrace. It crossed his mind that he had made at least one mistake in the past, thinking that he could use words to defeat her, while perhaps it would have been enough to gather her in his arms and stroke her hair with the back of his hand. Why had he never thought of that?
"If that will make you feel any better, luv, they're probably just trying to say the right thing," he said, wondering if he should not feel awful as well, for not feeling as sorry as he should have probably felt when the news about her miscarriage had reached him through Teague's former first mate whom he had accidentally met.
"I'm a monster. An unfeeling monster. I would've been the most terrible mother anyway," she said in a cracking whisper, breaking into sobs again.
"You would've been a very fine mother, Elizabeth," he said almost sharply, frowning at her. "And you're not a monster," he added as an afterthought.
"You don't sound too convinced," she said with a small grimace, sniffing.
He absently twirled a lock of her hair around his finger, wondering how did he end up in the place he had tried to avoid at all cost since he was ten? holding in his arms the very woman he had tried to avoid since... she had kissed him. As bloody bizarre as it sounded.
"Jack?" she lifted her head off his chest, and looked at him with her eyes red from crying, her lips pursed into a small grimace...
"Are you the pirate I've read about or not?"
He pressed his lips to her cheek so suddenly that her eyes went wide and she gasped.
"You could search for the Pearl with me, Lizzie," he said in a low voice, dragging his lips to her ear.
"I have a ship and you don't" she retorted, shuddering, trying to match his tone of voice, not sure how serious he was, how serious he expected her to be.
"Hence my proposition of searching for the Pearl together," he said with a sly smile.
She felt like grinning, but drew a sharp intake of breath instead. "I contribute a ship. You?" she asked dryly, arching an eyebrow, trying to ignore his fingertips on her neck.
"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow." Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "I contribute... myself," he announced with a complacent smile, raising three fingers, and narrowing his eyes at her. "Under three conditions," he said matter-of-factly, ignoring the look of absolute incredulity on her face. "I'll captain the ship and you'll sleep in my bed. Dress-less."
Elizabeth's eyes widened even more, if that was even possible. "No!" she sat upright, crossing her arms over her chest, and he was glad he had at last managed to distract her from her grim thoughts. "I will captain the ship and you will sleep in my be-" she blushed and stopped in mid-sentence, suddenly realizing what she was saying.
"Brilliant!" Jack outstretched his arms in a happy gesture. "So it seems we only disagree in regard to captaining the ship. A trifle, really. What are shifts for anyway? Do we have an accord, then?"
"These conditions are barbaric," said Elizabeth with a frown. "No lady would agree to them."
"And no gentleman would propose them," agreed Jack, grinning. "So we do have an accord," he took Elizabeth's hand in his and kissed it fiercely. "Now. May I see my- our ship?"
"Jack-"
He covered her mouth with his hand, his eyes suddenly serious, but still aglow with excitement she found contagious.
"Hush. Don't give the game away, 'Lizbeth," he whispered, running his thumb along her bottom lip; she held her breath. "Besides, even Mr. Cotton's parrot wouldn't believe you were really planning on spending a decade waiting for a glimpsy little dot blinking on the horizon. Horizon is out there, Elizabeth. Across the sea and in your soul."
"Jack," she smiled brokenly, placing her hand on his shoulder. "I'm-"
"You married me," he whispered, tucking a strand of her behind her ear, and she stiffened. "A mighty big ring that was, and the ceremony could've ended more happily, of course, but you gave me your truth on that day, and I gave you mine." She bit her lip and almost smiled. "Might not happen again, if you'll keep insisting you've never dreamed of me," he kissed her chin, and drew back, but she wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled him back to her.
"I did," she breathed with a grimace. "But I can't. Jack, you know I can't"
He slid her shirt sleeve off her shoulder and wrote a P with his forefinger. "Pretend it's only a dream," he murmured with a roguish smile.
"It doesn't feel like this in dreams," she closed her eyes and buried her face in his arm. "You're too real," she complained with a faint smile, bringing her hand to his face, watching his profile with her cheek pressed against his shoulder.
He chuckled and looked down on her, tightening his embrace around her. "I'm glad you noticed, luv."
"Don't laugh," she said gloomily, and he frowned at the uncertainty in her eyes.
"Are you afraid of me?" he asked, tilting his head to the side.
"Yes," she said cautiously with a small smile.
He smirked. "So am I," he said, brushing his lips across her forehead. "Of you."
"Really?" she seemed relieved and a bit proud, and he had to struggle not to laugh.
"I swear on pain of death," he said with conviction and her face fell. "Life!" he corrected quickly, but she was already sad again. "Lizzie," he lifted her chin with his finger and looked into her eyes. "I wouldn't be here if..."
"You would," she retorted with a small pout and a sniff. "You didn't forgive me. You just can't let an opportune moment to bed me pass you by," she said levelly, managing to keep a straight face despite the most amusing look that appeared on his face.
He looked at her for a moment in silence, then his eyebrows knitted, he glanced around the room, and then looked back at her. "You mean this is the opportune moment?" he asked with exaggerated astonishment, humor returning to his eyes.
She held his gaze, the sorrows of the past hidden in the wrinkles under his eyes, the kohl on his eyelids shading the sunburnt truth of rough storms and severe winds, his lips sea-bitter, not sweet; rings on his fingers carrying stories she was not sure she would believe.
"Yes."
It took her so long to reply that for a moment he looked as if he could not recall his own question. But she was so serious and calm, that all the humor evaporated from his face. "Yes," he echoed, and she snuggled against him, leaning her cheek on his shoulder.
"Yes."
"You would despise me most ardently tomorrow," he said in a low voice, and she laughed.
"Is there a reason to worry about it today, then?"
He looked at her for a moment in silence. "I worry about it since the very first day, Elizabeth," he said with a faint smile.
"High time to stop worrying, Captain," she brushed her lips against his cheek, "Sparrow."
"No regrets?"
"It's only a dream, after all, isn't it?"
"No promises? Lizzie-"
"Hush," she placed her finger across his lips. "Don't give the game away, Jack," she whispered, and he smiled. "Besides, even Mr. Cotton's parrot wouldn't believe your single promise." She covered his mouth with her hand when he opened it to protest, dried traces of tears on her face glimmering in the sunlight "As for the horizon... close your eyes." She smiled and whispered. "It's right here."