So Close
Lyrics by Rascal Flatts
Request from xAquatic-Gypsyx
Originally published 2008.
As Jack lay awake that lonely night on the Barnacle, his thoughts drifted aimlessly to the past. Tumen and Jean, he had anticipated. Constance, he had anticipated with great …well, anticipation. But Arabella, now there was something he had not accounted for.
Going with Captain Laura? What had her bloody mother done to deserve such devotion? She kidnapped Bell for Lord's sake. And to think, he had thought of her as a dedicated first mate, a partner and shipmate who would be around forever. Still imagining that she wouldn't be there the next morning to admonish them for sleeping in and make sure their breakfast was ready, and rolling her eyes when he and Fitzwilliam had their daily Captain-or-not dicussion. He sighed. Arabella didn't need her mom. Arabella's mom needed her. It was just impossible not to become dependant on her sarcastic comments, her smug knowledge of everything, her motherly caring for the crew and everyone in it. She truly was his crew's mother, Jack thought, wondering what would happen to himself and Fitzwilliam, two lost little orphans now that she was gone.
Jack vaguely pondered if she was ever coming home again. Well… to the Barnacle again, he corrected. But, the Barnacle was much better than his real home, or Arabella's for that matter. Not quite up to Fitzy's standards, but the reason he down-sized on living quarters was a mystery Jack was not particularly concerned with solving.
Jack returned to the idea that she may return one day. And, of course, in it's wake, the idea that she might not stuck a reverberating chord. What then? Then he would simply go on with bloody Fitz? That seemed like a sad future for Captain Jack Sparrow. And that didn't make Jack happy in the slightest. He frowned a pondering frown, still working the possibilities through his mind. He wondered what it would be like now that the only reason he and Fitz hadn't killed each other yet was gone. But, then again, she was probably part of the reason they fought so much, Jack thought, ironically. Bell, me lass, if you only knew…
I can take the rain on the roof of this empty house
That don't bother me
I can take a few tears now and then and just let them out
I'm not afraid to cry every once in 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
It was kind of funny, Jack thought. Realizing these connections his small crew had formed in the few months they'd spend together. How Tumen's volcanic glass knife was all Jack could see in the darkness of the shining nighttime sea; quiet, but deadly, dark and shining in the light of the moon. Or how Jean's love of food had permanently inclined Jack to identify every kind of food Jean would fantasize about. Or how Constance, Jack grudingly and humorously thought, would leave a lasting enmity towards animals ingrained in his mind. Or how Arabella's little pink tongue sticking out from between her lips was the only thing Jack could think about when he thought about his playful arguments with Fitzwilliam. Or how she would take Fitz's bloody side just to annoy him. Or how she would always have an answer to any question. Or how she bit her lower lip when she was nervous, or thinking, or upset… well actually, Jack admitted to himself, she left some sort of mark on every part of his life now. The Barnacle would always be tainted with the memory of old friends lost, Jack thought quietly. He quickly shunned this thought and the little surge of ache deep inside.
What hurts the most
Was being so close
And having so much to say
And watching you walk away
And never knowing
What could have been
And not seeing that loving you
Is what I was tryin' to do
"What are ye thinkin' about, Bell?" I asked, leaning on the rail.
She kept staring straight ahead at the empty sea. "The past. The future. How pretty the night is." Arabella said slowly.
"Missing Tortuga and yer dear father?" I inquired, sarcastically. I knew how happy she was to get out of the Faithful Bride and mandatory servatude until marriage or death.
She laughed. "Sure, sure," she said, sarcastically. "But the past is a nice distraction. And I miss some of it. He wasn't always bad."
"The past is in the past. He's certainly not the same anymore," I pointed out.
"Yeah, but it's comforting to think that he didn't start out this way. That no human was born bad. That life does the corrupting. And that, I don't know, human nature doesn't include cruelty and evil? That we are loving, good creatures."
"Bell, I knew you were smart. I didn't take ye on as a philosopher," I joked.
She elbowed me, playfully. "I can't be yer first mate and a philosopher?"
"Well, I suppose I can make an exception. This one time. Secondary engagements are greatly discouraged on this vessel, though, Miss Smith, as they are much larger distractions than the occasional glance into the past."
She smiled. "Thanks for yer permission, Captain Sparrow." She mock saluted me.
"Yer welcome," I answered, smiling back.
"But, I don't think I'd want to stop being yer first mate, even if I had to stop philosophizing," Arabella admitted.
I just kind of smiled, taking in her comment and wondering what she meant.
"Well, I've had enough distraction for one night, I think. Good-night, Jack," she said, walking past me and down the steps to below-decks.
"'Night, Bell."
It's hard to deal with the pain of losing you everywhere I go
But I'm doin' It
It's hard to force that smile when I see our old friends and I'm alone
Still harder
Getting up, getting dressed, livin' with this regret
But I know if I could do it over
I would trade give away all the words that I saved in my heart
That I left unspoken
Jack pondered seeing her again. Years from now, when time had shaped them. When she was married or something, living on some nice island with little kids to take care of. The image this brought him wasn't very attractive, and he quickly dismissed it, not wanting his last memory of her to be like that. He wondered why it bothered him so much. Maybe the husband looked too much like Fitzy. He changed that quickly. It still wasn't right to him. He told himself to forget about it.
It was then when the thought entered his mind. About what Arabella had been thinking about that pretty night. "The past, the future, and how pretty the night is," she had said. They had spoken breifly about which past she was pondering, the problem with her father and the old memories of him that kept her from seeing him as all-bad. That was only one of the things she associated with the past, Jack knew, now that he had just experienced just how much Arabella's mother meant to her, and they had spoken about that even before they found out she was alive, even before Jack knew about Arabella's mother. But, he realized, this was only one of the things she had been thinking about that night.
"The future," she had said. She hadn't known how soon she would be leaving the Barnacle, so she wouldn't be thinking about the point when they would see each other again, as Jack had moments before. She would have been thinking of what? Jack wondered. The cottage by the sea and happy children and a stable husband? Somehow Jack didn't believe that was what she saw for herself. But what was? He sighed inwardly. Of course, this question would burn inside him now that he couldn't ask her. He stored it away in the rarely used cabin of his conciousness that he used for missing others.
What hurts the most
Is being so close
And having so much to say
And watching you walk away
And never knowing
What could have been
And not seeing that loving you
Is what I was trying to do
That miss-y kind of feeling festered like a sore, burning a hole fiercer and fiercer. Jack had rarely experienced this kind of pain, so he had no idea how to register it.
"Why did she have to leave…" Jack asked aloud, not even realizing he had opened his mouth.
"I miss her, too," Fitzwilliam said, a great understandingly kind tone attributed to his words.
"What are you talking about?" the Captain asked, pretending lamely that he didn't know where Fitz was coming from.
Fitz laughed. "Go on, tell yourself you have not an inkling of what I'm speaking of. You will still lose in the end."
"What are ye on about, Fitzy?" Jack demanded.
"Oh, Jack, just admit to yourself that you love Arabella." Fitzwilliam taunted.
"Whaaa…? That's ridiculous!" Jack replied.
"Yes, yes, and you fought me over her so many times because you did not care about her at all. I understand completely," Fitz said, dubiously.
"Ye're mad," Jack said simply, rolling over in his hammock, his back to the smug Fitzwilliam.
"Whatever, Captain." Fitz taunted, chuckling and rolling over to sleep.
Jack's stubborn frown melted into a dreamy smile in Jack's sleep, in a beautiful dream of a beautiful future where the past wasn't a trifling distraction from a life of freedom and joy.
Not seeing that loving you
That's what I was trying to do