Song's "All Apologies" by Nirvana. Don't ask why, it just seemed right for
it to be there. Small update, and I know it's been delayed, but I've been
lacking inspiration recently, or more to the point the next part (chapter
after this which I will post soon) of the story upset me to write. Bad
computer, bad.
* * * * * * * * * * *
The wind's dropped, leaving the night clear and silent. The slightest noise was instantly suppressed by the dark sky above, and everyone lay hushed with sleep. The moon hung like a watching eye overhead, a visible crater like a darkening pupil.
Jack dreamt. He fell onto his back on the floorboards of Elizabeth's little house, his closed eyes wincing as if in pain. He raised a hand over his face, and a slight groan escaped his salted lips.
Water swayed around him, distorting the sunrays that fell from the sky so they spiralled down towards him. He vainly swam upwards, knowing that if he didn't he would die. Endless water, endless water, the words repeated over and over in his head. Then the words changed, a beat picked up and he could just words, while the water went black.
"I wish I was like you, easily amused. Find my nest of salt. Ev'ry thing is my fault. I'll take all the blame, aqua seafoam shame. Sunburn with freezer burn. Choking on the ashes of her enemy" Came a heavy voice in Jack's head.
"That's not music," Jack whispered. He felt vaguely sick, and his dream spun changing again.
Jack Sparrow felt the sun heavy over head, and the touch of sand on his feet. All around him, for miles and miles, the immense water. But there was no love he felt for it, only bitter anger and salty tears. Friendless and alone, stranded on this island when a man he had loved like a son, a brother and a mentor had sailed away with his ship. He wanted to slam his fist into the wood of the trees, and yet he felt strangely removed from the scene.
An image of Barbossa's dead and rotting skeleton that they had found on the floor of the Ile de Muerta flashed before Jack's eyes and the dream wavered slightly. Jack raised his hand to his forehead, hearing the familiar sound of beads clicking near his forehead. My hat, he thought idly, trying to connect the thought with something.
He turned, seeing Ana-Maria walked down the beach towards him, the edge of her skirt in one hand, the other resting on his hat that she wore. She laughed, and he wrapped his arm around her, nestling against the warmth of her skin, his hand running along her stomach freely. She giggled, and ran down to the water. Jack watched her from the trees, noticing how her skin seemed almost bleached of colour like fading white wash. She turned towards him, her eyes like two dark pinpricks in the bright light of day.
They walked down the beach together; somehow now arm in arm. Ana-Maria was quiet now.
"Death is never Beautiful." She confided in him, pulling him around her as though for warmth. He looked over her shoulder, where a bright blue bird lay coiled on the sand, its beady eyes gazing up motionlessly at the sun. Jack thought it strange how Ana-Maria recoiled from death, the vulnerability in her eyes.
He was on the verge of waking now.
Jack hand on Ana-Maria's back, and felt the scar breaking open and bleeding again. Ana-Maria nodded, and reached out to touch Jack's cheek.
"Skeletons don't bleed." She said with mild horror, and placed her hands on the bones of Jacks face. He looked down at his body, feeling the skin stripping away painfully, not as it had with the curse before. He looked up at the sun light bewildered, a sharp pain burning him as the mild ocean breeze touched his exposed rib cage.
He fell into a memory of the night where Ana-Maria had nearly died. His fingers locked in her hair; he listened to every breath she took that night, not letting himself sleep unless he missed her last.
Ana-Maria's eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him in horror. Jack turned, and caught the reflection of a skeleton in the mirror.
He woke.
"Here." Elizabeth said, nudging him with the toe of her slipper. He sat up startled. He looked bewildered at Elizabeth, and then at the coffee mug, which he accepted thankfully. Elizabeth curled up on the couch, watching him.
"You didn't have to sleep down here." She said reproachfully. "We have a room for guests."
"But I'm not really a guest love," He replied, getting up and stretching, looking into the blinding light of the midday sun. "How's Wills head?" Jack said with a grin. Elizabeth laughed with a shrug.
"Sent him off to work with my mothers recipe for a hangover." She replied happily. Then she paused. Jack was careful not to appear like he was scrutinizing her. He'd never heard Elizabeth talk about her mother before. "She died, before we came out here. Back in England."
"Oh?" Jack said, looking at the bottom of one of Elizabeth's candlesticks, noticing that it was real gold. "What off?" He said and then looked guilty. "Didn't mean to ask you that love, if you'd rather not talk about it." He put the candlestick down hastily.
"No, no, it's okay. It was a long time ago. I barely remember her. She died in child birth, she'd had three miscarriages after me." Elizabeth shrugged as though this were common knowledge. She'd barely even spoken to Will about her mother, except on the off hand comment.
Parents were a touchy subject, with both of them.
Jack spat out the open window and rubbed his hands together. Elizabeth restrained herself from getting up to put a coaster under Jack's coffee, which lay on the dining table.
"Well, my mother was a Mexican whore, and my father was a English lord." Jack said casually, squinting to see if he could see the Pearl in their safe little cove from here. He stood on his tippee toes to get a better look. Elizabeth looked disbelieving.
"I thought your mother was a nun?" Elizabeth countered. Jack tilted his head and looked at her. He looked slightly perplexed but then grinned, lurching forward slightly as he spoke.
"She was a nun and a Mexican whore. Good woman my mother." He took a sip of coffee and added. "Very versatile." Elizabeth shook her head.
"Jack Sparrow.. I'm lost for words."
"Yeah, well, you seemed to have lost the Captain part alright, but seeing as how we're such good friends." He collapsed on the couch beside her, putting his hand on her knee jokingly. She didn't seem to notice, and he frowned. He removed his hand, and continued as nothing had happened. "I'll let you pass with just the Jack Sparrow, but no one else, savvy?"
"Savvy." Elizabeth said, with some of her old mischief.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * *
The wind's dropped, leaving the night clear and silent. The slightest noise was instantly suppressed by the dark sky above, and everyone lay hushed with sleep. The moon hung like a watching eye overhead, a visible crater like a darkening pupil.
Jack dreamt. He fell onto his back on the floorboards of Elizabeth's little house, his closed eyes wincing as if in pain. He raised a hand over his face, and a slight groan escaped his salted lips.
Water swayed around him, distorting the sunrays that fell from the sky so they spiralled down towards him. He vainly swam upwards, knowing that if he didn't he would die. Endless water, endless water, the words repeated over and over in his head. Then the words changed, a beat picked up and he could just words, while the water went black.
"I wish I was like you, easily amused. Find my nest of salt. Ev'ry thing is my fault. I'll take all the blame, aqua seafoam shame. Sunburn with freezer burn. Choking on the ashes of her enemy" Came a heavy voice in Jack's head.
"That's not music," Jack whispered. He felt vaguely sick, and his dream spun changing again.
Jack Sparrow felt the sun heavy over head, and the touch of sand on his feet. All around him, for miles and miles, the immense water. But there was no love he felt for it, only bitter anger and salty tears. Friendless and alone, stranded on this island when a man he had loved like a son, a brother and a mentor had sailed away with his ship. He wanted to slam his fist into the wood of the trees, and yet he felt strangely removed from the scene.
An image of Barbossa's dead and rotting skeleton that they had found on the floor of the Ile de Muerta flashed before Jack's eyes and the dream wavered slightly. Jack raised his hand to his forehead, hearing the familiar sound of beads clicking near his forehead. My hat, he thought idly, trying to connect the thought with something.
He turned, seeing Ana-Maria walked down the beach towards him, the edge of her skirt in one hand, the other resting on his hat that she wore. She laughed, and he wrapped his arm around her, nestling against the warmth of her skin, his hand running along her stomach freely. She giggled, and ran down to the water. Jack watched her from the trees, noticing how her skin seemed almost bleached of colour like fading white wash. She turned towards him, her eyes like two dark pinpricks in the bright light of day.
They walked down the beach together; somehow now arm in arm. Ana-Maria was quiet now.
"Death is never Beautiful." She confided in him, pulling him around her as though for warmth. He looked over her shoulder, where a bright blue bird lay coiled on the sand, its beady eyes gazing up motionlessly at the sun. Jack thought it strange how Ana-Maria recoiled from death, the vulnerability in her eyes.
He was on the verge of waking now.
Jack hand on Ana-Maria's back, and felt the scar breaking open and bleeding again. Ana-Maria nodded, and reached out to touch Jack's cheek.
"Skeletons don't bleed." She said with mild horror, and placed her hands on the bones of Jacks face. He looked down at his body, feeling the skin stripping away painfully, not as it had with the curse before. He looked up at the sun light bewildered, a sharp pain burning him as the mild ocean breeze touched his exposed rib cage.
He fell into a memory of the night where Ana-Maria had nearly died. His fingers locked in her hair; he listened to every breath she took that night, not letting himself sleep unless he missed her last.
Ana-Maria's eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him in horror. Jack turned, and caught the reflection of a skeleton in the mirror.
He woke.
"Here." Elizabeth said, nudging him with the toe of her slipper. He sat up startled. He looked bewildered at Elizabeth, and then at the coffee mug, which he accepted thankfully. Elizabeth curled up on the couch, watching him.
"You didn't have to sleep down here." She said reproachfully. "We have a room for guests."
"But I'm not really a guest love," He replied, getting up and stretching, looking into the blinding light of the midday sun. "How's Wills head?" Jack said with a grin. Elizabeth laughed with a shrug.
"Sent him off to work with my mothers recipe for a hangover." She replied happily. Then she paused. Jack was careful not to appear like he was scrutinizing her. He'd never heard Elizabeth talk about her mother before. "She died, before we came out here. Back in England."
"Oh?" Jack said, looking at the bottom of one of Elizabeth's candlesticks, noticing that it was real gold. "What off?" He said and then looked guilty. "Didn't mean to ask you that love, if you'd rather not talk about it." He put the candlestick down hastily.
"No, no, it's okay. It was a long time ago. I barely remember her. She died in child birth, she'd had three miscarriages after me." Elizabeth shrugged as though this were common knowledge. She'd barely even spoken to Will about her mother, except on the off hand comment.
Parents were a touchy subject, with both of them.
Jack spat out the open window and rubbed his hands together. Elizabeth restrained herself from getting up to put a coaster under Jack's coffee, which lay on the dining table.
"Well, my mother was a Mexican whore, and my father was a English lord." Jack said casually, squinting to see if he could see the Pearl in their safe little cove from here. He stood on his tippee toes to get a better look. Elizabeth looked disbelieving.
"I thought your mother was a nun?" Elizabeth countered. Jack tilted his head and looked at her. He looked slightly perplexed but then grinned, lurching forward slightly as he spoke.
"She was a nun and a Mexican whore. Good woman my mother." He took a sip of coffee and added. "Very versatile." Elizabeth shook her head.
"Jack Sparrow.. I'm lost for words."
"Yeah, well, you seemed to have lost the Captain part alright, but seeing as how we're such good friends." He collapsed on the couch beside her, putting his hand on her knee jokingly. She didn't seem to notice, and he frowned. He removed his hand, and continued as nothing had happened. "I'll let you pass with just the Jack Sparrow, but no one else, savvy?"
"Savvy." Elizabeth said, with some of her old mischief.
* * * * * * * * * * * *