A/N: The initial idea was to write something were Sparrow chooses sacrifice (since my usual headcanon is choosing love) and some Logan +Sparrow fluff. ...Somehow this happened.
"Choose", she says and Sparrow stands there and stares and can't.
He thinks of a little girl (she had seemed so tall back then) and smiling and warmth and love and screaming pleasepleaseplease no don't stop don't leave me no and a shot and an open gate, music drawing him in, away from her and -
He thinks of a dog, of a little boy hitting it, of soft fur and warmth and my only friend and a port and knew before I knew and laughing and a cruel smile and a shot, a jump, a body falling to the ground and foolish creature.
He thinks of Hammer and a scream as her father falls dead and roaring in his head, shouting too late too late too late, failed again, can't protect, failure her sobs and her bitterness and call me Hammer.
He thinks of a man, smiling Lil my wife so happy together you'd love to meet her and glad I don't have a family and no please I'll obey no and a sword in his hand and he doesn't want to, he doesn't, but he has to and the Commandant is behind him and in his head and everywhere.
He thinks of starving prisoners and bodies like skeletons and pleading please why are you doing this just a little food but he can't and the collar is cold around his neck and he knows they're dying, they're dead when he returns and he didn't stop it.
He thinks, vaguely how can I forget and he thinks of a woman, blonde and young and pretty, and the note is in his pocket but he doesn't pull it out and it's nothing but a whim because her guilt doesn't touch him and her smile doesn't touch him and he doesn't love her.
He thinks of an infant in his arms and your son and he doesn't feel anything. He thinks of a child laughing and running and hugging him and he still doesn't feel anything, another infant and still not, knows my children, but there's no affection, not for her, not for them.
He looks up and there is a cold, amused smile on Theresa's lips that is so familiar, and she won't help him, she never helped him and he knows but still can't defy her.
He looks at Reaver and he is smiling, too, but so cruelly and Sparrow wonders how old he is, how much one must see to become so twisted.
He looks at Garth endure it don't let them break you we will meet again who saved him and he wants him to speak, to say something, anything and help but Garth keeps his silence.
He looks at Hammer and she's so solemn and he knows what she almost expects, knows what she hopes for regardless and his throat is dry.
Decisions have never come easy to him.
–
The letter and the statue are little consolation when he remembers a warm fire and Rose telling him stories and holding him and smiling.
–
He is glad when Theresa gives him another quest, returns to Murgo frequently, hoping he has something new. He should hate her in one week you won't be closer to your dream he knows that I simply listened but he can't because she made it so, because she is all that is left.
He frees the snow globe and is sick when the realization hits him, eagerly returns and destroys the necromancer (is she using him again? he can't even tell by now), doesn't hesitate a moment to come to the Spire.
–
It is a grand task she has given him and he will fulfil it, like he always does. So he fights and fights and fights until even he is sick of it, until even he wonders if he's doing the right thing (he remembers three young soldiers trapped in a cave and Walter's face when Sparrow frees them and starts to doubt).
And after that he searches, everywhere, for a queen; but decisions have never come easy to him and there's no one he wants. When he finally settles it is for a pretty woman; pretty and foolish and content with gifts and prestige.
He is not surprised when he feels no affection for the child in his arms – there's a vague sense of sadness when he looks at the tiny infant and hears them say he won't survive, but he would feel that for any child.
–
The boy still makes it and Sparrow watches him grow, always distant.
–
When the queen gives him a letter gone to slay Hobbes he's suddenly cold (remembers a a man and a child and we're too late they already turned him) and runs before even telling the guards. His sword twirls through the air and the Hobbes scream and run and never have a chance.
The boy is surprisingly calm.
Sparrow isn't.
He slaps the child, once, twice, thrice before pulling it near and doesn't know when he's started to care.
–
He watches the boy train, the second child trying to imitate him with a wooden sword (so much like his own, Sparrow thinks) and knows he doesn't have much time left.
He wonders how things might have gone if he had done things on his own, if he hadn't always listened to Theresa, but it's too late now to change anything.
Besides, decisions never came easy to Sparrow.