AN: Okay here is another Evanescence inspired fic. This one is by "Imaginary"
Warning: Slash. Yes there is slash in this, though nothing overt. And I have been
told that it is a sad fic so yeah there I warned you all. :)
-----------------------------------------------------
AnnaMaria told me it was raining today. I didn't notice. Then again,
I tend not to notice much anymore. I wish I would have seen the rain
today. It would have been nice.
It tells stories.
// "If you listen to it, you can hear words from thousands of years
ago." //
I used to believe that it wasn't real. Just some daydream he had
created to amuse himself on the high sea. But now, now I can hear the
words too.
The words are always different depending on where the rain hits. The
rain that hits the deck is different from the rain that hits the
foremast or the mizzenmast or mainmast. It is even different than the
rain that echoes off the iron casted cannons. Most importantly, the
rain tells a stronger, more violently passionate story off the
rolling and swelling waves.
I'd like to think that is where our story would be told.
//"Together we will always be remembered."//
Laying here, I can still feel where he used to sleep. I tried to ask
for a different bed but neither Gibbs or AnnaMaria could get me one.
Makes sense though. Beds are for the high ranking memebers of the
crew. I shouldn't even have one anymore. I wasn't part of the crew, I
was their invaild.
They say I am mad. I am crazy.
Maybe I am.
But when I see the paper flowers that he had made me with those
creative hands, sitting next to my bed, the world seems like the
crazy one. It is truely amazing, that he made those flowers. They fit
so well. They fit him. Beautiful and fragile, one rough wave could
destroy them....him.
It was cruel, the sea that he loved so much, hurt him so much near
the end. It started out so simple.
Just some pains in his stomach. Too much of that rancid food. After
being at sea for so long, the food was expected to turn bad. Same
with the water. Filthy water diluted with that constant supply of rum
wasn't always the best for one's stomach. But it was laughed off by
everyone, even the ship's surgeon and everyone respected his opinion.
Who were they to question the word of an educated man?
I bet he feels guilty now.
From the stomach pains came the nausea, and the sudden burst of sea-
sickness. You had never had that problem before. I was worried by
then, but you always had a way to placate me. Make me feel so safe
within your embrace.
But you couldn't even ignore it when the pain intensified and spread
to your lower back and then to your head. Of course this took time.
It wasn't just in a week, no this was prolonged torture.
Yes, I knew that you would lay awake next to me, in so much pain that
you couldn't even wrap your arms around me. It grew to where your
skin was so sensitive that I would hurt you just to whipe the sweat
away from your brow as you became feverish.
The surgeon didn't know what to do. This was no food poisoning. It
was something more. A malignate disease of the likes that we had
never seen before and therefore had no cure.
The look in your eyes was the worse for me. That whimsical fighting
spirit was being broken not by a vengeful pirate cutlass but from a
demon within. This was the wrong way for you to go.
Your eyes were on me and held me until almost the end. But as it
approached with its certainty and cold hands, your eyes couldn't
recognise me anymore. You were in so much torment that you didn't
even know who was changing your sheets or your soiled clothing.
That was what broke me.
//"These are for you, flowers are hard to come by, out here, so
you'll have to make do with paper."//
I kept the flowers next to your bed as you began to fade. Skin seeped
away as bones protruded. I had hoped the flowers would let you
remember me. But it was a losing battle.
I was there when you slipped into Davey's embrace. I held your hand,
even though the skin burned and brusied at my feather touch. And I
saw that you held on too.
You hadn't been able to speak for a long time because the pain had
been too great. But you spoke then to me.
"I'm tired." it was a simple fact. But it raised my hopes.
"Then sleep." I softly encouraged you.
You were so childlike and innocent, but so full of pain. "I'm not
gonna wake up, am I?" it was quiet and resigned. And it crushed my
hopes that had so quickly risen at the sound of your voice.
"No," I manage to get out, trying not to show you my tears but not
even knowing if you could see anymore. "Just rest, it will be over
soon, love. It will be."
And you just nodded. Accepting my words like you ways did.
But then the feverish eyes looked once more at me and then closed.
And the shallow rattling breathing that my ears had become accustomed
to, ceased to be heard.
I can hear your question in the sound of those rain drops. Maybe
that's why I didn't notice them today. I didn't want to.
//"I'm not gonna wake up, am I?"//
You are gone.
And so am I.
//"I love you, ye know that whelp? Don't forget that. You'll always
remember today as the day that Captain Jack Sparrow told you that he
loved you."//
I am just left with some rain drop stories and paper flowers.
Warning: Slash. Yes there is slash in this, though nothing overt. And I have been
told that it is a sad fic so yeah there I warned you all. :)
-----------------------------------------------------
AnnaMaria told me it was raining today. I didn't notice. Then again,
I tend not to notice much anymore. I wish I would have seen the rain
today. It would have been nice.
It tells stories.
// "If you listen to it, you can hear words from thousands of years
ago." //
I used to believe that it wasn't real. Just some daydream he had
created to amuse himself on the high sea. But now, now I can hear the
words too.
The words are always different depending on where the rain hits. The
rain that hits the deck is different from the rain that hits the
foremast or the mizzenmast or mainmast. It is even different than the
rain that echoes off the iron casted cannons. Most importantly, the
rain tells a stronger, more violently passionate story off the
rolling and swelling waves.
I'd like to think that is where our story would be told.
//"Together we will always be remembered."//
Laying here, I can still feel where he used to sleep. I tried to ask
for a different bed but neither Gibbs or AnnaMaria could get me one.
Makes sense though. Beds are for the high ranking memebers of the
crew. I shouldn't even have one anymore. I wasn't part of the crew, I
was their invaild.
They say I am mad. I am crazy.
Maybe I am.
But when I see the paper flowers that he had made me with those
creative hands, sitting next to my bed, the world seems like the
crazy one. It is truely amazing, that he made those flowers. They fit
so well. They fit him. Beautiful and fragile, one rough wave could
destroy them....him.
It was cruel, the sea that he loved so much, hurt him so much near
the end. It started out so simple.
Just some pains in his stomach. Too much of that rancid food. After
being at sea for so long, the food was expected to turn bad. Same
with the water. Filthy water diluted with that constant supply of rum
wasn't always the best for one's stomach. But it was laughed off by
everyone, even the ship's surgeon and everyone respected his opinion.
Who were they to question the word of an educated man?
I bet he feels guilty now.
From the stomach pains came the nausea, and the sudden burst of sea-
sickness. You had never had that problem before. I was worried by
then, but you always had a way to placate me. Make me feel so safe
within your embrace.
But you couldn't even ignore it when the pain intensified and spread
to your lower back and then to your head. Of course this took time.
It wasn't just in a week, no this was prolonged torture.
Yes, I knew that you would lay awake next to me, in so much pain that
you couldn't even wrap your arms around me. It grew to where your
skin was so sensitive that I would hurt you just to whipe the sweat
away from your brow as you became feverish.
The surgeon didn't know what to do. This was no food poisoning. It
was something more. A malignate disease of the likes that we had
never seen before and therefore had no cure.
The look in your eyes was the worse for me. That whimsical fighting
spirit was being broken not by a vengeful pirate cutlass but from a
demon within. This was the wrong way for you to go.
Your eyes were on me and held me until almost the end. But as it
approached with its certainty and cold hands, your eyes couldn't
recognise me anymore. You were in so much torment that you didn't
even know who was changing your sheets or your soiled clothing.
That was what broke me.
//"These are for you, flowers are hard to come by, out here, so
you'll have to make do with paper."//
I kept the flowers next to your bed as you began to fade. Skin seeped
away as bones protruded. I had hoped the flowers would let you
remember me. But it was a losing battle.
I was there when you slipped into Davey's embrace. I held your hand,
even though the skin burned and brusied at my feather touch. And I
saw that you held on too.
You hadn't been able to speak for a long time because the pain had
been too great. But you spoke then to me.
"I'm tired." it was a simple fact. But it raised my hopes.
"Then sleep." I softly encouraged you.
You were so childlike and innocent, but so full of pain. "I'm not
gonna wake up, am I?" it was quiet and resigned. And it crushed my
hopes that had so quickly risen at the sound of your voice.
"No," I manage to get out, trying not to show you my tears but not
even knowing if you could see anymore. "Just rest, it will be over
soon, love. It will be."
And you just nodded. Accepting my words like you ways did.
But then the feverish eyes looked once more at me and then closed.
And the shallow rattling breathing that my ears had become accustomed
to, ceased to be heard.
I can hear your question in the sound of those rain drops. Maybe
that's why I didn't notice them today. I didn't want to.
//"I'm not gonna wake up, am I?"//
You are gone.
And so am I.
//"I love you, ye know that whelp? Don't forget that. You'll always
remember today as the day that Captain Jack Sparrow told you that he
loved you."//
I am just left with some rain drop stories and paper flowers.
