Hello, Pirates fans! This is my first Pirates fic and I have to say, I had a great time writing it. I am a Sparrabeth shipper, but this isn't a fluffy Sparrabeth piece. This piece is fairly dark as it deals with the changes in Jack after his time in the Locker. This is a confrontation between Jack and Elizabeth after he was rescued because I feel that the movie never addressed Jack's reaction to seeing her again. I also don't think that if such a confrontation had been in the movie, it would have been a pleasant scene. So this story is all about an angry, slightly malicious Jack thinking of a punishment for Elizabeth. It does get a little more Sparrabethy at the end, but it's nothing extreme.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Please, read, enjoy, and review. Constructive criticism is always welcome. I'm not sure how good I did at keeping Jack in character with his speech, so if you have suggestions to help me write his character better, please tell me. But no flames, please. If you don't like the piece, tell me what I can do to fix it and improve my writing. If you like it, tell me what I can do to improve.
Darkness hid her from the world as tears steadily coursed down her face. She pulled her knees up to her chest, trying to keep her frame from shaking uncontrollably. With each breath she drew into her body, she felt the guilt hit her like a bullet, shattering her heart into a million pieces.
She had fooled herself into thinking everything would return to normal once they found Jack. They would rescue him from the Locker and they would return to the seas on the Pearl. He would return to his joking, infuriating self and they would return to their witty, innuendo-filled banter. They would continue their tension-filled relationship that she loved so much. She had to put on the face that she was entirely faithful to her loving Will, but she lived for the danger Jack offered her.
Had offered her.
She lived on that danger, that freedom, that passion.
She could still feel his lips hot against hers and it sent her deeper into her despair. She tried to tell herself over and over that she did it simply to save herself and the crew. She tried to tell herself she wasn't being unfaithful to Will. She tried to tell herself it was just good business. But she couldn't deny that passion that his lips had ignited in her. She had never been kissed in such a way, with so much fire and sensuality. She had never allowed a man to explore her mouth and her passion as she had let Jack. She had never been lit on fire before.
Her guilt increased ten-fold as thoughts of that kiss consumed her. The fire he had ignited in her continued to lick at her soul and with each moment she had journeyed toward him, it had grown. At the first moment she had seen him in the Locker, it blazed, threatening to pull her under. That was, until his indifferent words splashed over her like ice cold water, her passion falling to the side like cold cinders.
"Four of you tried to kill me in the past. One of you succeeded."
She wanted to keel over at his words. It was in that moment that she knew nothing could ever go back to the way it was. No matter how much she wished or hoped, things were changed permanently. And it was her fault.
From that moment on, her guilt built and built until she finally had to run away. So she hid, in a darkened corner of the Pearl. It hardly got her away from the source of her anguish, but it allowed her enough solitude to try and organize her jumbled, wrestling thoughts.
Her solitude only lasted moments, though.
As she let her sobs wrack her body, she did not notice his dark shape coming closer to her. In her oblivion, he drifted nearer, until he was only mere inches from her.
"Why the tears, darling?" he murmured, startling her. Elizabeth quickly tried to scrub away her tears as Jack scrutinized her face. "Ye've rescued me, yer betrothed is none the wiser, and ye've come off with scant punishment. I'd say that be cause for celebration, not sadness."
"Oh, don't toy with me, Jack," Elizabeth hiccupped. "I can't handle your taunts tonight."
"I'd say ye be the one toyin' with me, Lizbeth. To kiss me and then chain me to the mast. I have to admit, that is the most creative way anyone has ever tried to kill me. But ye did succeed, so I guess you would 'ave to be creative. Takes quite a bit to trick ol' Cap'in Jack."
"Oh, just stop," she pleaded. "Jack, don't do this to me."
"And why shouldn't I, Miss Swan?" he asked, his voice dripping with malice. "It be within me full rights as Cap'n to punish ye. Ye committed the highest crime, killin the cap'n. So I can do whatever I feel fit."
Elizabeth watched his warily. This wasn't Jack. This wasn't the dashing, daring Captain she had admired. This wasn't the admirable, fair man she had grown to love. Had the Locker really changed him that much?
"Of course, there be the classic punishments: lashin', keel haulin', the brig, maroonin'. But I don't feel those be appropriate in this certain predicament," his tongue spun the words, emphasizing each syllable, chilling Elizabeth.
"Then what is, Captain Sparrow?" she asked sarcastically.
"I wouldn't be vexin' me, Lizzy. Not when I'm determinin' yer fate. You'll find I'm not as kind as you make me out to be."
"I already know that," she spat. He drew dangerously close, his hand raised, ready to strike her. She looked deep into his eyes, defiant.
His hand snaked up behind her neck, twisting in her hair and pulling her head back as a sinister glint entered his eyes. "I ask ye, Lizzie, has Will finally had his way with ye?"
"Why would that be any of your business?" she asked timidly, her eyes dropping from his as she wrested out of his grasp.
"I'll take that as a nay, then. Then maybe I should hand ye over to me crew. They're kind to ye now, but they would not hesitate."
He saw her shudder and a dark smirk crossed his mouth. Her defenses were crumbling.
"Or maybe I should have my way with ye. I haven't known a woman in many months, much thanks to you. So maybe I should use ye to scratch that itch. And that way, when dear William comes to ye late at night, he'll always wonder, 'Did he take it from her? Or did she give it to him willingly?' Course, that may not be much of a punishment for ye. If that kiss was any sign, I think you would open yer legs up willingly to ol' Jack."
She raised her open hand to slap him, but he caught it easily in his own, pushing her back against the wall, pinning her arms behind her. He leaned his weight upon her, his lips mere inches from her, their chests heaving up against each other.
"Don't strike me, you filthy whore! That'd just be one more transgression to add to your mile-long list," he hissed, his rum-leaden breath washing over her, the smell of her terror rising to his nostrils.
"Or maybe I should just send you and William off to Port Royal. You can be the wife of a lowly blacksmith and get fat with children and live a life of domestic hell. You'll never see the sea again, never feel the salt air against yer skin. You'll never have that freedom you so long for."
Silent tears spilled from her eyes as he glared down at her, his eyes black with hatred. Releasing one of her hands, he swiftly pulled his pistol from his belt, bringing it up to her temple.
"Or maybe I should kill ye here, condemn ye to the Locker. Then you can experience the hell ye put me through."
Her breath caught in her chest as the click of the round echoed in her ear.
"Do it," she whispered, closing her eyes, bracing herself for the shot, the pain.
Jack looked down at her trembling form and the pistol dropped back to his side. He released her wrist and turned to walk away. Before he could, though, she pulled the pistol roughly from his hand. He spun back to see her press its cold barrel to her head, her shaking finger wrapped around the trigger.
"What ye be plannin' on doing, luv?" he asked warily, some of the anger leaving his eyes.
"You obviously want me dead; you just can't do it yourself. So I'll do it for you. I can't stand to live like this anyway, with this constant guilt, with this hatred between us."
"Lizzie, I'm not worth dying for."
"And neither am I," she said shakily. "But you did. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth."
"Maybe yer not the pirate I thought ye were. Pirates don't feel guilt. And pirates certainly don't live by any moral code, especially one as idiotic as what you just spewed at me."
"Then maybe I'm not a pirate, Jack. Maybe I'm just a girl who feels awful for what she's done and wants to return to the way things were," Elizabeth sobbed, as the pistol dropped from her temple. Jack eyed it cautiously as he edged forward, pulling it out of her trembling hand.
"No, yer not a pirate, luv. But ye shouldn't feel guilt. It's over now. Ye rescued me. And I'm the person I was, more or less. A few more demons, maybe, but ye can deal with those."
"But things are never going to be the same between us," she said, shaking her head as if hoping she would wake from a nightmare.
"Nay, they can't be. From now on, you will always be my charming murderess," he said, before pressing a kiss onto her forehead. "The one who finally caught Captain Jack Sparrow and killed him with a kiss."