(A/N: This is a little scene I think should have happened after they see Elizabeth's father in Davy Jones' Locker in the third movie. I originally had this as part of my Sparrabeth Moments series, but since I'm trying to make that exclusively moments from the movies and deleted scenes, I decided to publish this as a separate oneshot by itself. I hope you enjoy it!)
It was a freezing cold night. Elizabeth could see her breath fog in the air in front of her when she talked. She shivered involuntarily, partly from the cold, and partly from the creepy feeling she got from this place. It was nothing like the warm blue Caribbean waters she was used to.
Suddenly, in the distance, she saw a hundred little pricks of light floating over the ocean. Squinting through the dark, she saw little dinghies traveling through the water, each with one lone occupier carrying a lamp.
Something about the closest one seemed familiar. Surely that wasn't - ? But as the boat drew closer, the weak light from the lamp illuminated the face of Elizabeth's father, Governor Swann.
A huge wave of intermingled relief and happiness broke over Elizabeth. She couldn't remember the last time she saw her father, hadn't known if she would survive to see him again, and she found that she had missed him more than she realized, after so many months away from Port Royal.
"It's my father, we've made it back!" she whispered excitedly. "Father! Father, here, look here!" she cried out over the dark waves, her voice a child's joyful shriek, an eager little girl once again.
Jack, close by as usual, was immediately struck with the change in Elizabeth's expression. Gone was the wan pallor, the quiet sorrow that he'd noticed behind her eyes lately. He could tell that there had been a scene with Will earlier – he had seen the defiance in her eyes, and the matching anger in Will's. But now all despondency was wiped clear, as an excited, innocent smile lit up her face, radiating hope all around.
Ah, Lizzie, love, Jack thought sadly. How he wished it was that simple. For a second, he debated: should he be quiet, let her enjoy this rare moment of happiness a few minutes longer? That expression on her face wasn't as common as it should be; should he keep it like that for a little longer? No, he decided reluctantly. Elizabeth deserved the truth – she had shown herself to be equal to it time and time again, even if she didn't always hear it from Jack.
"Elizabeth," Jack quietly murmured. Surprised, Elizabeth turned her head at the sound. She couldn't remember the last time Jack said her name like that. Quietly, seriously, without a trace of a joke or a tease in the word. Was it because he had changed in Davy Jones' Locker? Did death alter a man that much? Somehow Elizabeth wasn't sure she liked the change – she infinitely preferred Jack with a twinkle in his eye and a cheery grin on his face – and then she realized that the once-merry Jack was gone because she had killed him, and guilt stabbed at her heart once more.
"We're not back," Jack continued, in that same quiet, serious tone, his eyes boring into hers. If he had said it any other way, looked any other way, Elizabeth could have dismissed it as a particularly bad joke. But his eyes were sincere, his gaze concerned, and Elizabeth couldn't doubt them, though she tried her hardest, though there was proof enough that Jack wasn't trustworthy. This time, it was different. There was no sign of any mischief in his eyes, and that in itself was enough to erase Elizabeth's happiness altogether.
Jack watched dully as Elizabeth's smile shrank, and realization stole into her eyes. For some reason, the world kept trying to beat down the spirit of that young girl, forcing one hardship after another on her delicate shoulders. And Jack – so far, Jack had just contributed to the problem, hurting more than helping the girl. And this thought was the one that bothered him the most.
Trying her best to reject the implications of Jack's words, Elizabeth turned back to the boats. Out of the corners of her eyes she could see Will's arm, hesitantly stretching over to grab her, but Elizabeth could only care about the man on the boat below them.
"Father!" she called out, desperately this time. Governor Swann slowly turned his head, and found his daughter.
For a second, Elizabeth thought he didn't recognize her. But finally, realization came into her father's eyes and he said, "Elizabeth." Fighting back tears, Elizabeth felt her hopes rise once more. Perhaps –
"Are you dead?" Elizabeth's father asked her. Frantically, she shook her head as she sidled along the rail of the Pearl, trying to follow the boat.
"I think I am," Governor Swann told her, with a slight chuckle in his throat, although there was no humor in the sound. Panic attacked Elizabeth at his words.
"No! You can't be!" Elizabeth retorted stubbornly. Or if he was, she could save him! Her mind awhirl with ideas, she neglected to pay attention to her father's next words.
Of course, Jack heard them loud and clear. The calculating, rational part of his mind took careful note of this new information about Davy Jones' heart. But the frenzied expression on Elizabeth's face distracted him from making plans with his new information. If he knew that young lady at all, the next thing she'd be doing is trying to save her father by –
"Cast a line!" Elizabeth called back desperately. The boat started moving further away from the Pearl, and frustrated, Elizabeth grabbed the rope from Marty's hands and threw it to her father. "Take the line!" she ordered, panicking.
Governor Swann looked up at his only daughter with shining eyes. "I'm so proud of you, Elizabeth," he said simply, not even trying to grab the rope.
"The line, take the line!" Elizabeth urged, frantic at her father's lack of response. As the boat drifted further away, she raced after it in desperation. Somewhere behind her, she heard the rest of the crew following her, but she didn't care. She wanted her father here, on board the Pearl, going back to the world of the living.
A pair of arms grabbed her. Familiar arms that she immediately recognized as Will's. Arms that she loved, but were now restricting her, holding her back as her father drifted away. Feeling hope slip away from her grasp, Elizabeth gave up struggling, gave up trying to stop her tears, simply gave up, and sobbed her heart out.
...
Jack was the only one who hadn't moved in the effort to save Elizabeth. He told himself it was because there were enough fools already to stop her, that it was because Will was already there for Elizabeth. But the truth was, he probably couldn't have stopped Elizabeth even if he had tried. If she had been sobbing like that in his arms, he would have done the first thing he could to stop the tears – which, in this case, would be to either let the girl go after her father and ruin both her life and the fate of the crew, or to chase after Governor Swann himself, although he knew very well that such a move could only end in disaster.
That was the problem with liking a girl too much, he told himself, grabbing a bottle of half-empty rum. You stop thinking smart.
But if he knew Elizabeth at all, she wouldn't be stopped just by Turner's words. Knowing the girl, she would have another plan right up her sleeve. She loved her father too much to just let go of him entirely without a struggle. She wasn't the type to give up so easily. Something was going to happen tonight. As the rest of the crew bustled about getting ready for bed, Jack simply sighed and settled on the deck, with only a few drops of rum to protect him from the freezing cold night.
...
It was nearly three hours later that Elizabeth quietly opened her cabin door and stepped out onto the deck. It was no warmer than before, but now she didn't care. Her mind was preoccupied with her plan to rescue her father.
Climbing over the rails of the Pearl, Elizabeth stood rocking on her heels at the very edge of the ship. She wasn't going to give up her father so easily. She had a plan: dive into the water, swim after her father, bring him back from the underworld. Personally, she thought it was an excellent plan – simple, easy to remember. She wasn't sure how she was going to execute it, but she would make it work somehow - she had to make it work.
The way she saw it, the alternative was unacceptable. Her father had always been there for her - protecting her, saving her, comforting her. She wasn't sure she could life without him and his unconditional support. Who else would do that for her? Even Will - but she didn't complete the thought. Best not to think about Will.
"Bit chilly for a swim, innit, love?" a familiar voice murmured from the shadows. With a gasp, Elizabeth let go of the rails in fright, and would have fallen straight into the icy black waves below if a strong brown hand hadn't reached out and caught her waist just in time.
"Jack!" Elizabeth gasped, grabbing him closer to avoid falling over. She had wanted to swim after her father, yes, but she had planned on a silent dive rather than a loud, cold splash. She gazed back down at the ominous black water below and shuddered at the eerie feeling it radiated, huddling closer to Jack's warm body.
"Well, I must say, Lizzie, this is quite nice. Last time we were this close, I ended up chained to the mast for a Kraken's snack," Jack teasingly whispered in Elizabeth's ear. He could feel her whole body against his, and although he tried to stop the thought, it occurred to him how well they fit together.
At his words, Elizabeth quickly let go of Jack, but nearly fell in again, and ended up clutching him even closer. She couldn't help noticing how strong and lean his body felt, strangely comfortable pressed up against her own. "You deserved it," she told Jack, wishing her voice sounded more sure, less quavery. Why was he bringing up that day again? Couldn't he forget, let bygones be bygones?
Jack merely chuckled mirthlessly, his face a smooth mask, nothing in his expression letting on the panic he had felt at seeing Elizabeth come so close to losing her life to Davy Jones. However, his hands stayed securely at Elizabeth's waist, determined not to risk any chance of her falling off the ship. "Be that as it may, love, I think this little parley had best take place on deck, hmm?"
Rather than reply, Elizabeth swung herself across the rails again, feeling rather relieved at the excuse for a slight delay. Honestly, she didn't much like cold water.
Suddenly, she realized that the warmth encircling her waist came from Jack Sparrow's strong brown hands, still wrapped firmly around her.
"Jack," she said, carefully keeping her voice even. "Would you mind removing your hands from my body?"
The pressure on her waist grew stronger. "And what would you do if I said that, in fact, I do mind, Lizzie?" Jack asked wickedly, raising one black eyebrow. It seemed like forever since he last teased her. The next second, he abruptly let go as Elizabeth's food came crashing down on his own.
"Bloody hell, woman – ," he began to curse, but looking at Elizabeth's dangerously slitted eyes, he stopped. "Perhaps I deserved that," he admitted sheepishly, "but you know me," he shrugged, as though that was a viable excuse.
Elizabeth's lips twitched suspiciously. A good sign, Jack noted.
But before he could say anything, Elizabeth asked, "What are you doing up at such late hours, Jack?"
"Unfortunately, love, it appears a captain's duties are never done," Jack lied easily. But Elizabeth spotted the empty rum bottles in a corner, and she rolled her eyes in disgust, opening her mouth to tell him off.
"But that's not the point, now, is it?" Jack hurriedly pressed on before Elizabeth could say anything. "What I am more interested in is what you are doing up so late, and hanging on the side of the Pearl, for that matter."
"Oh," Elizabeth muttered. She had hoped to distract him somehow before they reached this part of the conversation. "Nothing."
"Nothing," Jack replied, mimicking her furtive tone. "I see." Stepping around Elizabeth and leaning back on the rails, he asked in a careless tone, looking out at the sea, "And while you were doing nothing, is it possible that you were contemplating setting out after a certain…parental figure, with the intent of bringing him back to the world of the living with us?"
"Perhaps," Elizabeth replied, trying to act nonchalant and failing miserably. She wished to goodness that Jack wasn't so perceptive. Why was it that he always could tell exactly what she was going to do? There were moments when they almost seemed to think the same thoughts. Nervously, she glanced back at the misty waters, shivering a little.
Jack noticed the shudder, and couldn't help but feel a prick of admiration. It was clear that Elizabeth hated this place – hated it with a passion. But she was willing – eager, even – to go further into the murky depths of the Locker simply to save the one she loved. Jack wasn't sure whether he should admire her courage or shake her well for her stupidity and stubbornness. Well-intended though it was, diving off to save her father, without so much as a proper plan, was suicidal – and the sooner the girl realized it, the better for everyone involved.
"You know that's not going to work, Lizzie." If Jack hadn't been the only person there, Elizabeth could have sworn it was someone else talking. The joking tone was completely gone – in its stead was that serious, quiet tone that she had heard only once before, on that same day.
"Wh - what's not going to work?" she stammered, trying to keep up her pretense. She desperately wished he would look at her properly, but he was gazing off into the distance behind her at the black ripples beyond the Pearl.
"Rescuing your father. He's at peace. He won't come back," Jack replied, still not looking at her.
"And how are you so certain of that?" Elizabeth angrily retorted, only remembering at the last second to keep her voice low. She had to bring her father back. No matter what the consequences.
Finally, Jack turned to look at her, full in the eyes, black staring down into brown. "Because. I tried to rescue me mum when she died, just the same as you. I nearly died then. Me dad had to rescue me. Nearly got both of us killed."
Elizabeth was struck speechless. Somehow, she had forgotten that Jack too, must at some time in his life, had parents, parents that he loved, parents he could have lost.
"Not Captain Jack Sparrow's most successful adventure, I can tell you that," Jack added bitterly, looking away once more.
"Jack." Elizabeth hesitantly put her hand on his shoulder. "I didn't realize – "
"Spare the apologies, love," Jack waved them aside, shrugging off her hand to turn and face her full-on. She needed to hear his next words well – and she needed to know he was not joking. "I didn't tell you to hear your sorries. Just tell me you won't go off this ship, as long as we're here."
Seeing the surprise in her eyes at how intense his tone was, Jack reluctantly explained, softening his voice slightly. "Turner will go off his head if anything happens to you, and he does enough stupid things as it is. He'll try to go after you. Which would require me to go after him. And, love, believe me, I have no intent of even coming close to dying anytime within the next forty or so years. So it would all be much easier if you just didn't do anything - stupid," he finished with a sigh.
The mention of Will caused Elizabeth to take her hand off Jack's shoulder like it had burned her. She turned away from Jack so he wouldn't spot the tears gathering in her eyes. "So there's no hope?" she asked dully, numbly, too depressed to really care about the answer. Even Jack Sparrow, the man who could do the impossible, the man whom she had witnessed to do what no other man could, was telling her to give up.
Jack looked down at her. Her chocolate eyes were shinier, a sheen of tears filming them. His heart ached at her still-vulnerable expression, trying so hard to suppress any sign of weakness. "No hope? Now, I wouldn't say that, love." He took her by the shoulders and turned her towards the sea. "Now, Elizabeth, what do you see?"
Elizabeth strained her eyes through the darkness, but she couldn't see anything besides water. "I see... water," she announced flatly.
"Yes!" Jack agreed triumphantly. "Water! What's more, lots of it! And now, Miss Swann, let me enlighten you with one of my favorite personal philosophies. As long as we have water, and a good ship, we not only have hope, we have freedom. The most important thing in the world, love. Now, we have already established that we have water. And the Pearl's the best ship in the world. Hence, we have both hope and freedom. Savvy?" And he grinned down at Elizabeth infectiously.
She couldn't help a rueful grin at his typical personal philosophy, and suddenly realized she felt...better. Still not good, but not as panic-stricken as before. Not as empty. No matter how much she might want her father back, she had enough common sense to know Jack was speaking the truth. Her father was at peace; it was only asking for trouble trying to evade the inevitable. But she couldn't let his death go unavenged. She would take down Lord Cutler Beckett with her own bare hands, if need be, but she would make sure he paid for the life of her father.
"Freedom," she said suddenly, her eyes snapping up to bore into Jack's. "It has to be earned, Jack. It can't just be bought, or taken for granted. I want freedom. But we won't get it till Beckett is dead, will we? We have to defeat him."
"Aye," Jack agreed, seemingly unaffected by Elizabeth's words. "That we will. Give it time, Lizzie. Cutler Beckett's a tough codfish to catch, but never you worry, love, we'll get you your precious freedom in the end." And again, that serious tone crept into his voice, making it impossible for Elizabeth to doubt him, no matter what anyone said.
Suddenly, Elizabeth realized how bizarre the whole situation was. Who would have thought that it would be Jack to make her feel better, to calm her down, to soothe her fears? A strange thought crossed her brain. Was that why he had stayed on deck for so long? To make sure she didn't try to kill herself trying to chase her father?
"Jack - I never thought I'd say this, but - I've missed you." The words were out before she realized she was saying them. But she didn't regret saying them at all. "So much. And - and I'm so sorry about the Kraken, sorry about everything, so sorry – " And to her own amazement, she found that she was sobbing once more, the quick flash of good temper drowned out by misery and guilt.
And somehow, Jack found himself hugging Elizabeth close yet again as the girl sobbed out a bucket of salty tears on his shirt front. Somehow, when he had pictured Elizabeth in his arms before, she hadn't really been crying, he mused.
"Shh, love," he tried to comfort her, patting her gently on the back. Seeing Elizabeth Swann, one of the bravest women he knew, break down and cry like a baby, was disconcerting. But it was indeed satisfying to know that she had missed his presence, had, despite her own words, regretted killing him. Jack knew very well that she did not repent the deed, was not apologizing directly for the deed – in fact, if the situation arose again, she would likely do that same thing. But still, she was sorry for the circumstances that had forced her to kill Jack. Which was good enough for him.
"All's well now," he whispered comfortingly in her ear, his fingers rubbing soothing circles on the small of her back. "Old Jack' s back like a bad penny. Shh, Lizzie, nothing to cry about, we'll get out of this hellhole soon and then we'll go put the world to rights." He murmured words of comfort into her hair for a few more minutes, waiting till the heaving sobs that pushed her chest against his had completely subsided.
Elizabeth breathed in Jack's scent contentedly, marveling at the unique blend of smells. She should hate that combination of ocean spray and rum, but it enticed her instead. Nobody, not even Will, smelled quite like that – Will! Her eyes flew open as she remembered her fiancé, guiltily realizing how close Jack's body was to her own.
Slowly, she drew back, disentangling her arms from around his neck, and she sighed when he quietly withdrew his own arms as well. The chilly night air washed over her back again, and she immediately wished she was still in Jack's warm embrace. It was not a thought she ever planned on having, and embarrassed, she cleared her throat and turned away from Jack.
"Thank you," she murmured in the direction of the sea, but Jack heard.
"Anytime, Lizzie," he replied, his voice as quiet as hers. Suddenly, the pet name didn't seem as childish as she had thought. It sounded more endearing now. Her father used to call her Lizzie, back when she was young, when she was still free to dream and imagine and play, when there was always refuge in her father's arms. She had stopped him from calling her Lizzie on her fourteenth birthday, believing it to be childish and inappropriate. Even now, it should have felt wrong for Jack to use that old moniker, but Elizabeth felt a strange attachment to the nickname – it felt like a reminder that it was still all right for her to cry every once in a while, to be a child, that she didn't have to be strong and mature and in control all the time.
The thought that there would always be someone – an unpredictable someone, but a someone nonetheless – who would be there for her in times of need like this made her throat catch. She had thought that Will would have been that person for her, but even Will these days – well, Will was just not the same. She felt like he was constantly judging her. He hadn't understood about the Kraken, hadn't understood why she hadn't told him. But Elizabeth didn't think she could possibly have told Will – he was still adverse to piracy, he had hated it for most of his life. Was she to blame for being afraid that he would shun her for being a cold-blooded killer?
The worst part was, his actions after he found out had only proven to Elizabeth that she had made the right choice. After all, Will hadn't been able to trust her, hadn't been able to respect her enough to confront her about his fears. He had suspected her to be in love with Jack, but hadn't asked her, he had just jumped to his own conclusions – her own fiancé hadn't trusted her! It was as though the whole universe was conspiring against her, insisting that she loved Jack – which she didn't. At least, not like that. Jack was just a good man whom she respected. Right?
Elizabeth shook her head, pushing away the unsettling thoughts. She turned around to see Jack grab two rum bottles and walk back over to her. Silently, he held out one bottle to her. In Jack's opinion, nothing worked better than a drink or two to keep sorrow at bay. Another personal philosophy.
Elizabeth eyed the bottle hesitatingly, and shook her head. She desperately wanted the escape of intoxication, but she didn't think she could accept any more gifts from Jack, not after all he had already done for her.
"Elizabeth," Jack insisted, brandishing the bottle, a clear order in his voice. "Come, love, the only use of being sad is getting a drink out of it. Otherwise, what's the point?" he asked, the jesting tone back in his voice.
Despite his tone, Elizabeth could tell that Jack truly believed his words – what's more, they made sense. Brooding and tears were only good for peace of mind; otherwise, they helped nobody. She brusquely grabbed the proffered bottle, uncorked it, and took a swallow of air. She sighed. "The rum's gone," she grimly informed Jack.
"WHAT?"
Now this was a problem.
(A/N: I always felt that there had to be some sort of reconciliation scene between Jack and Lizzie before the whole Brethren Court shebang. This was the result. I hope you liked it! Check out my story Moments of Magic, if you feel like it too, I should be updating that soon... Reviews are much appreciated, of course!)