-1A/N: uhh…I am utterly ashamed that my last update to this was about two years ago…..ahem I must apologize that this fic will continue to follow it's pre-formed plot, despite the fact that the second movie will have changed some of the minor points. Please ignore that. This fic is now officially floating in its own time zone. Whoops.
And any former readers (I'm afraid they may've all died of old age by now) please review and spare me my life.
As most human beings throughout history have noticed during their minute stays of pain, joy, and obliviousness on this earth, being awoken from a night's sleep (be it contented or horrific) is not pleasant. And being awoken from a night's sleep multiple times in one night several nights over does no more than magnify this fact. This understood, Joshamee Gibbs was not a happy person as he stood in the midst of an irritated and comatose crew at some un-godly hour of the morning. To put it bluntly, the rest of the crew was not happy either.
Sun toughened, battle hardened men though they were, the crew of the Black Pearl did not take kindly to waking by banshee-like shouts. Through pure reflex, many had first started to their stations upon hearing Elizabeth Swann's nightmare riddled screaming and were none too happy to discover that the situation was, in fact, no situation. Several nights later, they were prepared to stage a mutiny.
"Quit all yer blasted cackling!" Gibbs yelled, throwing an empty bottle at the crowed behind him. "I'll be speakin' to the Cap'n." Gibbs attempted to ignore the disgruntled sounds following him as he made his way up to Jack Sparrow's quarters.
Moonlight shone brightly on the deck of the Pearl, creating bright pools where sea water had accumulated throughout the night. Squinting none too happily at the light that met his eyes, Gibbs shuffled through the warm breeze and ruffled his sleep-styled hair. Over the last few days, the scene had become increasingly familiar to Jack Sparrow's long time first mate as he, once again, made an entreaty to the captain. Gibbs did not like the idea of mutiny any more than the captain he served, but to his sleep deprived brain, the idea was becoming more and more appealing. Besides, women had always been bad luck in the past, and Miss Elizabeth seemed to be trying to prove it. At this point, Gibbs would do anything to entitle himself to a peaceful night. Humming a well worn tune under his breath, Gibbs rounded a corner and found Elizabeth leaning against the railing, a hollow look echoing on her face.
Elizabeth heard the words Jack aimed at her as she walked out of his cabin, a beaten aura about her.
"You've got ta' give it up, love. Fresh air innit going ta' help ya any more than the rum ya keep refusin'."
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew he was right. As the nightmares grew worse, Elizabeth's resolve weakened and she could not help but question her decision to "live the pirate life". Her heart was with Jack, that she knew, but somewhere deep inside, Elizabeth still felt herself tied to her husband. Tied to the man that she knew could not let her go.
Torn and tired, Elizabeth felt the weight of sleepless nights and chronic fatigue on her shoulders. She knew that Jack had the best of intentions when he left a plate of nearly palatable food close their bed every morning and she saw the weary concern in his eyes as she left it, mostly untouched, every evening. She simply did not feel up to dealing with life at all. Not hers, not Jack's, and certainly not the budding one within her. Silently she resolved that she would eat some hard-tack in the morning for Jack's sake. After all, he had been more than accommodating. Perhaps the idea of a child had softened him, she mused. Distantly Elizabeth wondered how Will's face would have looked when she told him the news. How his hands would have caressed her. Shaking her head, she pulled back a stray piece of hair and took a faltering step towards the barely lit doorway behind her.
"How do you put up with me, Captain Sparrow?" She whispered softly to herself. A strong, yet tired response met her query. "Ya haven't burned the rum yet, love."
Smiling slightly, the young woman turned back to the sky, knowing the man's response was all the reassurance he could muster at such an early morning hour. Rubbing her swollen stomach, Elizabeth sighed and stared out at the lackadaisical sway of the ocean's waves. The stars were no comfort, nor the moon. She knew that their light had fostered as many nightmarish scenes as love poems. And as she scanned the faint line where the sky met the sea, Elizabeth's hand froze.
"Miss Elizabeth--" Gibbs voice came out subtly but forcibly, "ya'd better go back inside and try to rest. I'll settle the rabble." Gibbs put his hand below her elbow and attempted to turn Elizabeth around, but she stuck stubbornly, one hand to the railing. Her honey brown eyes, hollow in her face, stared at a point on the horizon unmoving. Turning to face the unceasing ocean, Gibbs saw what precisely Elizabeth was staring at. A ship. Several leagues off and an indeterminate grey in the light of the moon, but a ship nonetheless. With an unwavering breath, Elizabeth slowly turned her head towards Gibbs and spoke.
"Will."
Yeah, I know. An incredibly long wait for that? Precisely my thought. My apologies. However, at the current time of 4 a.m., it's pretty darn good. Flame on!
