Summary: "'Go.' He advised, his own voice betraying the exhaustion the world had left him with. His favored seafaring accent was cracked, his native voice showing through. 'Just go.'" Jack accidentally makes a confession during a quarrel with Elizabeth after his rescue. One-shot. Sparrabeth. Set during AWE.

Prompt: A: "Stop it!" B: "Stop what?!" A: "This! All this! What you're doing!" B: "Oh?! What am I doing, hm?!" A: "Making me love you!" B: "...excuse me?"

Apologies and Confessions

He hadn't even been fully awake when she'd intruded on his personal space, begging his forgiveness. He'd let her rant on about how she hadn't meant any of it, trying to understand what she was referring to. His tired mind was foggy and not allowing him proper access to his memories. What had she done, exactly?

"Jack!" She huffed, exasperated. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Hmm?" He mumbled. "What? Oh, aye. I hear ye, love. Loud an' clear."

She sighed, plopping down on the edge of the bed at the realization that he really hadn't been listening to her at all. "Bloody pirate."

"Lizzie-love, it's the middle o' the night. 'M too tired to focus on much." Jack informed her, looking away from the maps he had been updating. "Remind me what ye're apologizin' for."

Elizabeth practically scoffed, her annoyed expression masking any distress that still lingered inside. "You shouldn't even need to ask. You said it in front of the whole crew yesterday."

"Four o' ye tried to kill me in the past, one o' ye succeeded."

"Oh. That." He recalled blandly, wondering how he had forgotten about his own death.

He retrieved his quill from the ink bottle, resuming his work at adding a recently discovered island to one of the maps. Though he drew the island's shape accurately, his mind was elsewhere. What was he supposed to do, just accept her apology? She had killed him, after all, and that wasn't something to be taken lightly. Curse his morals.

"Well?" She inquired.

"Well what?" He retorted as his head snapped up so he could meet her gaze, wincing at the sharpness in his tone. "What do ye want me to say, love? That's all's well? That killin' me was no bother?"

Elizabeth glanced away, unable to hold his dark gaze. "Yes. I mean...I don't know. I suppose I just wish you could understand why I did it."

"I understand why ye did it, Miss Swann. But that's not the bloody problem 'ere."

"Then what is the problem, Captain Sparrow?"

The fact that I'm torn between killing you and kissing you, dammit. Jack gritted his teeth. "That's for me to know."

"I'm sorry, Jack." She stood up and made her way to leave the cabin.

"Ye're not dismissed. Get back 'ere." He called after her, putting his map materials aside and rising to his feet.

Elizabeth paused at the door, turning to look at him with pain in her eyes. "What do you want from me, Jack?"

He could feel his resolve crumbling. "Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Ye know what I mean."

"I most certainly do not!" Her voice rose. "Tell me, Captain Sparrow, what am I doing?"

The words flew from his mouth before he could kick his broken heart aside. "Stop makin' me love ye, dammit!"

She stared at him, her mouth hanging open. "...Excuse me?"

The reality of what he had said hit him, his face both flushing and draining of color at the same time. "Bugger. I didn't mean to say that."

He exhaled, sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. I knew talking to her would be dangerous. I really need to start taking my own advice, don't I? Restless in shame, he hopped back to his feet almost immediately and stalked to one of his cabin windows, looking out at the dark waters of the Locker with his hands folded together behind his back.

"Jack?" Elizabeth's voice was small.

"Go." He advised, his own voice betraying the exhaustion the world had left him with. His favored seafaring accent was cracked, his native voice showing through. "Just go."

He didn't hear any retreating footsteps. Instead, her tone a little stronger, she spoke up. "Is it true?"

"It doesn't matter. None of it does." Jack decided with a resigned murmur, one ringed hand rising to twist the braids of his beard. "All we need to worry about is gettin' the bloody hell out of the Locker an' killing Beckett and Jones."

"How are we supposed to fight them if we're fighting ourselves?" She asked him, her voice getting closer.

He pulled himself together, his typical accent taking precedence over the other. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, finding her only a few feet away. "We'll figure it out. Always do, us pirates. This'll be no different."

Elizabeth rested a hand on his shoulder. "Jack. I'm serious. If I had known how much leaving you behind would have hurt you, I wouldn't have left you. I'm so sorry."

As she turned and began to leave, he snatched her wrist to stop her. He could see the unshed tears in her eyes as she glanced back at him, the regret she felt for what she had done. She had been forced to live with the knowledge that she'd essentially killed him, and it clearly had done her no good. He saw that, now. She meant what she had said.

He gave her a long look, then a small nod. "I've no idea how ye do this to me, but...I accept your apology, love."