Again, a sad one. But it was a present for a friend of mine.
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Disclaimer: I own the story, not the characters. Trust me, these things are never clear.
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Jack ran through the forest of palms. The rain drenched his coat. His hat wasn't doing a particularly good job of protecting his face from the icy drops that were falling from the sky. The soil on the ground had turned to mud, dirtying his boots. He flung his arms over his head, hoping to compensate for his lack of an umbrella.
Deeper and deeper he found himself in the forest. Lower and lower he found his feet sinking into the muddy ground. Faster and faster he found his legs moving to find refuge from the storm. The thunder bellowed from the sky like the beating of a tribal drum. Lightening brightened the sky as the highlight of the weather's dramatic performance.
Ahead, he saw a small house. It appeared deserted, for there was no string across the two wooden poles for a clothing line. The roof needed to be re-shingled, but no rain seemed to be getting into the humble dwelling. He quickened his pace as he headed for shelter.
The door nearly broke off when Jack pushed it open. He closed it carefully, trying not to damage it. The wind tried to barge in, but he put his back to the door and barricaded it with his body, holding it back so that it wouldn't swing open.
"There's a lock," Jack heard a small voice echo through the vacant house. He turned and saw that there was indeed a chain lock on the door. He secured it and walked further into the room, searching for the source of the voice; possibly the owner of the house.
It was empty. There was no furniture, no artwork on the walls. The floors desperately needed to be swept. The sole source of light was the flames of a fire that was burning in a small fireplace. Jack hurried over to the light for warmth, stretching out his arms.
"Jack?" the voice asked, "Is that you?" It was coming from the ceiling. He tilted his head back and looked up. There was a small loft up there. It was like half an attic that you could see from downstairs. There was a ladder that could help you get up. Standing above him, staring down, was Elizabeth. "Lizzie?" he asked, just to be sure. She nodded and replied, "Yes. It's me."
Jack's mind began to wander. The last time he'd seen Elizabeth was years ago. 'Maybe four. Maybe five. Alright, you know and you know it! It's been six years and eight months!' Who was he kidding? He had been counting. Seeing her now, he remembered how much he loved her, and he realized that that hadn't changed. He'd been wanting to talk to her about it for what was almost forever to him. Finally, he had a chance.
He pointed to the ladder and said, "Come down from there." She shook her head and replied, "I can't."
"'Course you can. What? I don't bite. You should know that. I'm not gonna hurt you."
"No. I just can't. Please don't ask me to."
"Well, I want to talk to you."
"Then talk."
"Why can't you come down?"
"I have to watch Will's heart."
"Just bring it-"
"Jack, I can't."
Elizabeth seemed pretty serious. Her eyes seemed almost scared. What could it be? He ignored it and just watched her. She definitely looked older, but still beautiful. She was wearing a green dress that came down to her knees and wore breeches underneath it. Her hair was up in a ponytail.
"You care about me, don't you, Jack?" her voice was sad. He asked, "What do you mean?"
"You have feelings for me."
"I will admit no such thing." He crossed his arms.
"I knew it." She sighed.
"Alright, maybe I do... a little."
"I'm sorry. Is it wrong that that makes me feel good?"
He smiled and dropped his arms. "No."
Elizabeth laid down on the floor of the loft. She gazed down at Jack with curiosity. He shifted his weight uncomfortably. She cocked her head like she was trying to put pieces of a puzzle together- and he was the puzzle. "Tell me something, Jack," she said. "What?" he asked.
"Anything." She folded her arms.
"Like a joke?"
"No... something else."
"You said 'anything'."
"Anything but a joke. I don't feel like laughing."
The room fell silent to the sounds of the rain pelting the roof. Jack didn't know what to say. He wanted to tell Elizabeth what was exactly on his mind. The only problem was that he was... afraid. 'Afraid? No!' He was Captain Jack Sparrow! He wasn't afraid! The sound of her voice shattered the thought, "Come on. Anything."
Jack paced slowly across the filthy floor. His heart argued with itself until she finally spoke again, "I'm sorry that you love me, Jack." He looked up at her and lied, "I don't love you. I just care about you a lot more than I would like."
"Oh." Her voice was sad once again.
He gave into his heart's demands. "You know what, Lizzie?"
"What?" She sighed.
"I can take the rain on the room of this empty house. That don't bother me. I can take a few tears now and then and just let them out-"
"You don't cry, Jack." She shook her head in denial.
"I'm not afraid to cry every once and and a while even though going on with you gone still upsets me. There are days every now and again I pretend I'm okay, but that's not what gets me..."
"Jack, I can't be with you. I'm married to Will."
"I know. I'm not asking you to."
"I don't understand."
"I mean, it's hard to deal with the pain of losing you everywhere I go, but I'm doing it. It's hard to force that smile when I see our old friends and I'm alone."
"Jack..." A tear slipped out of her eye.
"It's still harder getting up, getting dressed, living with this regret."
"Regret?"
"But I know it I could do it over, I would trade, give away, show the words that I'd saved in my heart that I'd left unspoken."
"That day I left the Pearl... did you have something to say to me? Were you angry at me for leaving?"
"That doesn't matter anymore. That's not what hurts the most."
"What hurts the most, Jack?"
"...what hurts the most...was being so close and having so much to say, then watching you walk away...and never knowing what could have been."
"Jack..."
"And not seeing that loving you is what I was trying to do."
Elizabeth stood up and walked over to the side of the loft where the ladder was. She seemed hesitant, staring at the ladder. It was as if she was contemplating whether or not she should come down. Jack told her, "It's okay, love." She smiled at him and started to climb down...
"Jack!" He heard a someone shout his name, but it wasn't Elizabeth. "Jack! Jack, can you hear me? Jack! Cap'n!" The voice called him. Elizabeth landed on the ground and started to stride over to him. The voice came again "Jack! Don't leave us now! Jack! Come on, lad!" Elizabeth wrapped her arms around Jack's neck...
Jack's eyes blinked open. His first mate, Gibbs, was standing over him. Jack realized that he was on the deck of his ship. Gibbs blew out a sigh of relief, then declared, "Blessed, sweet westerlies!" "What the bugger is going on?" Jack asked. Ragetti, a one-eyed crew member, replied, "Pintel and I...accidentally knocked you on the head with the new crate of cutlasses." "That big, long thing? You petulant little maggots!" he growled at them and pushed himself up.
Jack started to walk to his cabin when he heard someone ask, "Is there room for one more on this fine vessel?" He turned around to find Elizabeth standing with the Dead Man's Chest tucked under her arm. She was wearing a familiar green dress that came down to her knees and wore breeches under it. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Jack felt a dj vu.
"Well," Jack answered her question with a fake tone of annoyance, "it will be a true inconvenience, but I suppose we can make room." He smirked. Elizabeth grinned and ran up to him, wrapping her arms around his neck.
And, knowing that he would probably wake up soon, is what hurt the most...