You said when you'd die that you'd walk with me everyday
And I'd start to cry and say please don't talk that way
With the blink of an eye the Lord came and asked you to leave
You went to a better place but He stole you away from me

He suddenly opened his eyes. It was like someone called him, whispered his name in the soft cold wind. The cabin was all dark, and he could see that nothing had changed since he had blowed out the lantern and the candles. It was late, just a couple of hours after midnight. He listened, paid special attention to the wind. But it was all still, just the usual sounds of the ship filling the clear nightair. The wood creaked against the gentle surface of the water; the old black sails danced/fluttered briefly in the wind and swished against the mast.

It was all calm, just as calm as every night in the Caribbean. If he focused he could hear his crew sleep deeply beneath the upper deck, dreaming of treasures, rum and the whores of Tortuga. The two men that were guarding for eventual enemies (the East India Trading Company) seemed to snore ryhthmicallyand made the sound of the sleeping night complete.

He twitched his eyebrows. Why had he wokenup? Lying on his stomach, he reached down the floor with his right arm. He muttered when he did not find what he was searching for, like a small child. Then he felt a thin, cold neck of glass belonging to a bottle. Relieved he lifted it up with tired, warm muscles and put the opening against his mouth. Slowly he turned the bottle upside-down, closed his eyes and soon felt the warming liquid pour down his throat. The heat spred throughout his entire body and made a sleepy feeling sweep through him. His eyelids became heavier, and he almost did not get to put the bottle down until he had fallen asleep again.

ooo

The full moon made its way through the open door into the cabin, and the strong light that hit the floor disturbed the captain in his drunken sleep. Muttering he turned away from the brightness, pressed his body against the wall and closed his eyes tight. He did not thinkof the door being slid open, nor notice thatthe night-sound that he had listened to so eagerly minutes before had changed. He did not even notice that the wind breezing over the seacradling him and the crew to sleep stopped, andthat its soft whispering was suddenly congested.

The only thing he first noticed was the sudden cold that crept beneath his blanket and into his bones. He almost immediately started to shiver, which irritated him and made him pull the felt quilt closer. But the chill would not disappear, and the moonlight shone even brighter than before.

Then suddenly, it faded. He was just about to relax and go back to sleep, when he heard soft steps at the old wood of the deck right outside his door. He sighed heavily, almost in a dreaming-state:

"Gibbs, ye damn fool – go back to bed!"

He buried himself into the chilly embrace of his sheets, and almost thought that whoever it was had given up when the soft steps continued. The sleepy anger inside of him grew, and he forced himself to turn over and sit up. He was just about to pull the blanket away, when he heard the whispering sound. The long, quiet and breathless reverberation that he thought he had heard before. He did not make a move, waiting to hear it again.

When the silence remained, he suddenly noticed all those things he had not noticed just a couple of seconds ago. The snores, the wind, the sea… He frowned.

"What the…"

"Jack."

He almost jumped out of his bed by the very noise. His heart beat so hard in his chest that he could almost hear it, like with Davy Jones'. Thump-thump, thump-thump. It felt like it was about to burst from his body,just like his eyes.

That voice. That soft, delicate voice that had always made him shiver. That trembling mouth that had spoken his name, formed it with those light pink lips. Only she could say his name like that.

But then he came to other thoughts, trying to ignore the steps and the noise he "thought himself to have heard".What could possiblymake her walking his ship, in the middle of the night, all alive and dare to wake him up like this?

" It's the bloody rum, ye ole dog", he murmured and setthe bottle down the floor a cursing look. "Makes ye think things ye don't actually think. Must've been a bad year…"

Enough time passed to make him believe that he had imagined the entire thing, except for those damn steps that never stopped. But his heart did not stop beating that heavily, and the shivers would not end wheneverhe tried to calm himself. His head wastoo heavy to keep up, and his eyes were protesting. His tired and aching body needed, wanted and therefore demanded sleep. He took a deep breath and lifted the blanket away.

"Go to bed Cotton, ye ole scallywag!" he shouted, swinging and staggering towards the door. He closed it as hard and definite as he could in his half-awake, confused and upset state. Muttering curses over his darned men he returned back to his kip, falling asleep on his stomach for the third time that night.

And now you live in heaven
But i know they let you out to take care of me

ooo

A cold breeze caressedhis face, bringing him slowly back to reality again. At first, before hetruly awoke, he wondered why the hell he could not be left alone. For the fourth time he woke up in his cabin, drawnback from his pleasant sleep and deep dreams of golden, shiny treasures.

That was his first thought. But when he slowly opened his eyes, he could not be sure if he was still dreaming. His field of vision was covered in light, bright as the full moon and the glimmering stars upon the black night sky. After a couple of seconds, he could discern thin and light straws of hair. In the moonlight it was light blue, but he knew the true colour – of gold.

He smiled. Finally he had fallen asleep for real; finally he was in sweet dreams of beauty and happiness.

Then he felt something all near his face, a cold breath that did not own a scent. The sight became clearer for him, and the brightness faded. Suddenly he saw a pale face just a couple of millimetres above his own. He recognized it, oh if he did recognize it. The shape of the nose, the rounded lips and the eyelashes flutteringfast and spirited.

This surely was not a bad dream.

He closed his eyes with the thought of never waking up again. He could spend his entire life dreaming like this. And when he opened his eyes next time, he would…

That was his second thought, but he did not get any further before his mind raced for the third; something touched his mouth, but not as cold and hard as a rum bottle or rough and wet like the ocean. It was soft and warm, stroking against his sleepy lips. He slowly opened his eyes a couple of inches, just so he was able to see what was going on. His next thoughts vanquished when he felta nose pressing gently against his own, and all he saw was smooth and almost white skin. He could feel eyelashes kissinghis cheek, and hair falling down and tickle his chin.

Oh, not to bad … he thought, pleased with his dream so far.

The mouth that was slowly rubbing in opposition to his pressed a bit harder, but he did not make a movement. He was terriblytired and the treatment was so… comfortable. He could feel thin breaths coming from the small nose, letting go of air that air that warmed his soul.

Suddenly he felt something sliding into his mouth. Slowly it pressed itself between his lips, stroking over his teeth. He frowned, feeling the sleepy sensation fade and the world around him seemed to clear.Therewas something different about this, or maybe not… He was not sure, not until he thought that it would retreat out of his mouth – but instead it pushed further in. Automatically, he raised his tongue and met it halfway.

It felt like a hit in his stomach.

His eyes flew wide-opened, and he tried to shake her off and sit up. But it seemed he was unable to move the rest of his body, his hands and arms were tightly attached in the mattress along his sides and his legs appeared to have lost its mobility. He tried to press her tongue out of his mouth, struggled to make her stop but he was frozenand she kept on caressing him with her mouth.

He panicked. The touch, the warmth, the softsweet taste. His heart beat so hard he could barely breathe. The memories flashed through his mind, everything that he had tried to forget this past three months stung him like a thousand knifes.

No, it has to be a dream! he thought, trying to calm himself. A nightmare. Of course it is, it's all up in me head! It's the rum, that bloody rum…

He told himself those words over and over again, but his heart kept hammering against his chest like a caged bird. Her tongue wandered and explored his entire mouth, caressing and tasting every bit of it. It sent shivers down his spine, but the fear was stronger than the feeling and need of returning the kiss.

When she suddenly pulled back, he was breathless. He gasped for air, but lost it when he felt her mouth against his throat and her hands creeping over his arms. She stroked him over his chest, kissed every piece of skin at his neck with a tenderness that made him tremble through all the horror.

"Just a dream, just a dream… " he whispered breathlessly, but stopped when she undid the buttons of his shirt and let her hands slip inside. She moved her head down and kissed his bare skin, starting at the top of his chest. Then kept on undoing the buttons, and when she finishedshe slowly drewit aside from his stomach. Her hair fell heavily against his chest, and followed the movements of her head when she stuck her tongue out and teasingly lapped his nipples.

He felt her warm breath growing hotter as she kissed his stomach, around his navel and up again. He pressed his eyes closed so hard that it hurt, and buried his fingernails deep into the mattress. He could hear both her and himself panting, but somewhere in his deepest thoughts he told himself that hers were not real. That all of this was of his imagination, his fantasies. A bittersweet dream turning into a nightmare.