"Hey there mate, what brings you down here?" The voice held it's familiar
lilt, but it sounded pained, and you could see the sweat on his brow. It
was a severe injury, and both of them knew it. Norrington would have a
major discussion with Gillette when he finished with the man before him.
"I came to have a word with you." it was blunt, businesslike, very much like the proud naval officer was.
"Well then, by all means, sit. You look like you're ready to toss me bed and all into the ocean." The man with the feline grace before him laughed, and the Commodore allowed a small smile to play on his lips.
"John-" he started, after a long, drawn out, somewhat terrifying pause.
"Jack. Jack Sparrow."
"Why did you change your name, and why did you pick something as idiotic as that?" the question had plagued Norrington since he had found out about the man's name change.
"John's too formal of a name for a pirate, Jack sounds much better. And Norrington isn't exactly a common last name, now is it? Sparrows are beautiful birds, luv. No reason other than that."
"You just changed your name like that?"
"It's easy to do mate when you're a pirate. They believe whatever you say." Norrington nodded.
"I just came in here to say something."
"Is it to tell me you can't let me off this time?" Norrington smiled slightly, along with the other man.
"Well, I can't, but John-" This time the other man let the name slide.
"Yes luv?"
"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry." I'm sorry. Two words that were so hard for him to say. Two words that he never thought he'd have to say. The Pirate looked up at him, sympathy and something else, something lurking in those soft brown eyes that the younger man hadn't seen in ages.
"For what luv? You have nothing to be sorry about."
"Quite the opposite, really." A small smile crept across the injured man's face.
"you've got nothing to be guilty of." The words were pained, and they both knew that his time left was limited, that the great, legendary Captain Jack Sparrow might have finally met his final match.
"I do. I have everything to be guilty of." This was a side of the famed Commodore that most had never seen before. A side that showed emotion, a side that could actually feel, a side of the esteemed man that actually was human.
"Mate, you've done nothing wrong. You had your honor, you had everything you believed in." And this was a side of the legendary pirate that most never wanted to see. A side of the pirate that was too soft, too gentle for most to believe.
"I believed in killing my own brother."
"It was my choice to do this mate." He was so quiet, so small as he lay there each breath become more and more labored.
"But I should have never actively chased after you for so long. I was so wrong. This is all my fault. I killed my own brother."
"Shh, don't say that mate, I'm still alive." They both knew that he wasn't going to last much longer.
"John, I'm sorry. I almost killed you myself before, now I've gone and done it."
"Look luv, don't beat yourself up over it. It was your first mate that did this, not you."
"But it's my fault." He was on the brink. The man he thought he hated, the brother he thought he couldn't love was dying in front of him, and he couldn't help but be upset. This was the man that he had learned everything from. He couldn't help but pain over his lost brother, the man that he had disowned himself from.
"Just relax mate, I forgive you." The pirate drawl that the man had picked up was gone. This was no longer the loathsome pirate to be feared, to be respect. No, this was the John Norrington, the fearless man who would rather die than see his crew go down. This was the man that The Commodore remembered. This was the brother that he had loved, this was the man that he had respected, the man he wanted to follow in everything he did. "James?" The voice was so quiet, so weak.
"Yes?"
"Bury me at sea. Give me a funeral befitting a good captain." This was the last straw for The Commodore. The tears that had threatened the great James Norrington started to spill out. "Tell me men that I fell behind. Tell them that my last order is to leave here. And give me a good Navy death." The man on the bed smiled weakly. "I don't regret the life I've lived, but I always wanted to die a good death. I want the pomp, I want the drummers, I want the formalities. If anyone should be sorry mate, it's me."
"You were a good man."
"I guess. I never killed a man on purpose; I've never raped a woman. I guess you can say I'm a good man. I'm sorry luv, I'm just glad I could teach you everything I did. Goodbye luv." James understood what the man was saying, and he fought as hard as he could to stop himself from outright sobbing. He couldn't stop the tears that betrayed his control and slid down his cheek, but the least he could do was stop himself sobbing over the man.
The man on the bed was no longer Jack Sparrow, but the good John Norrington. The man that was weeping was no longer Commodore James Norrington, but the young Jimmy, the boy who would sit on the beach watching as his brother used the large rocks worn smooth by the ocean as his stage to tell the tales of ferocious pirates. They were not the men they pretended to be, the men they were now, but the men that the once were, when they were both young boys, idealistic and naive.
Now they were hard and cynical. Now older of the two still looked vibrant and youthful, while the younger was haggard from years of long work and fussing over being perfect. But they both had aged, and both had built walls against their hearts, walls only their own family could break down. James looked soulfully down at the other man, watching the harsh, labored breaths. "James." the Commodore grabbed the other mans hand, as if to draw the pain away. "You were my favorite brother."
"I was your only brother." The attempted joke faltered in the thick air.
"Well, that too. But you've come further than I ever have. Bring me back on the deck."
"Why?" Norrington was more concerned for the man's health than he was about what the man would do.
"I want to die with the sea spray on my face." With tears fresh in his eyes, Norrington helped him to his feet and all but carried the him up the stairs.
"I came to have a word with you." it was blunt, businesslike, very much like the proud naval officer was.
"Well then, by all means, sit. You look like you're ready to toss me bed and all into the ocean." The man with the feline grace before him laughed, and the Commodore allowed a small smile to play on his lips.
"John-" he started, after a long, drawn out, somewhat terrifying pause.
"Jack. Jack Sparrow."
"Why did you change your name, and why did you pick something as idiotic as that?" the question had plagued Norrington since he had found out about the man's name change.
"John's too formal of a name for a pirate, Jack sounds much better. And Norrington isn't exactly a common last name, now is it? Sparrows are beautiful birds, luv. No reason other than that."
"You just changed your name like that?"
"It's easy to do mate when you're a pirate. They believe whatever you say." Norrington nodded.
"I just came in here to say something."
"Is it to tell me you can't let me off this time?" Norrington smiled slightly, along with the other man.
"Well, I can't, but John-" This time the other man let the name slide.
"Yes luv?"
"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry." I'm sorry. Two words that were so hard for him to say. Two words that he never thought he'd have to say. The Pirate looked up at him, sympathy and something else, something lurking in those soft brown eyes that the younger man hadn't seen in ages.
"For what luv? You have nothing to be sorry about."
"Quite the opposite, really." A small smile crept across the injured man's face.
"you've got nothing to be guilty of." The words were pained, and they both knew that his time left was limited, that the great, legendary Captain Jack Sparrow might have finally met his final match.
"I do. I have everything to be guilty of." This was a side of the famed Commodore that most had never seen before. A side that showed emotion, a side that could actually feel, a side of the esteemed man that actually was human.
"Mate, you've done nothing wrong. You had your honor, you had everything you believed in." And this was a side of the legendary pirate that most never wanted to see. A side of the pirate that was too soft, too gentle for most to believe.
"I believed in killing my own brother."
"It was my choice to do this mate." He was so quiet, so small as he lay there each breath become more and more labored.
"But I should have never actively chased after you for so long. I was so wrong. This is all my fault. I killed my own brother."
"Shh, don't say that mate, I'm still alive." They both knew that he wasn't going to last much longer.
"John, I'm sorry. I almost killed you myself before, now I've gone and done it."
"Look luv, don't beat yourself up over it. It was your first mate that did this, not you."
"But it's my fault." He was on the brink. The man he thought he hated, the brother he thought he couldn't love was dying in front of him, and he couldn't help but be upset. This was the man that he had learned everything from. He couldn't help but pain over his lost brother, the man that he had disowned himself from.
"Just relax mate, I forgive you." The pirate drawl that the man had picked up was gone. This was no longer the loathsome pirate to be feared, to be respect. No, this was the John Norrington, the fearless man who would rather die than see his crew go down. This was the man that The Commodore remembered. This was the brother that he had loved, this was the man that he had respected, the man he wanted to follow in everything he did. "James?" The voice was so quiet, so weak.
"Yes?"
"Bury me at sea. Give me a funeral befitting a good captain." This was the last straw for The Commodore. The tears that had threatened the great James Norrington started to spill out. "Tell me men that I fell behind. Tell them that my last order is to leave here. And give me a good Navy death." The man on the bed smiled weakly. "I don't regret the life I've lived, but I always wanted to die a good death. I want the pomp, I want the drummers, I want the formalities. If anyone should be sorry mate, it's me."
"You were a good man."
"I guess. I never killed a man on purpose; I've never raped a woman. I guess you can say I'm a good man. I'm sorry luv, I'm just glad I could teach you everything I did. Goodbye luv." James understood what the man was saying, and he fought as hard as he could to stop himself from outright sobbing. He couldn't stop the tears that betrayed his control and slid down his cheek, but the least he could do was stop himself sobbing over the man.
The man on the bed was no longer Jack Sparrow, but the good John Norrington. The man that was weeping was no longer Commodore James Norrington, but the young Jimmy, the boy who would sit on the beach watching as his brother used the large rocks worn smooth by the ocean as his stage to tell the tales of ferocious pirates. They were not the men they pretended to be, the men they were now, but the men that the once were, when they were both young boys, idealistic and naive.
Now they were hard and cynical. Now older of the two still looked vibrant and youthful, while the younger was haggard from years of long work and fussing over being perfect. But they both had aged, and both had built walls against their hearts, walls only their own family could break down. James looked soulfully down at the other man, watching the harsh, labored breaths. "James." the Commodore grabbed the other mans hand, as if to draw the pain away. "You were my favorite brother."
"I was your only brother." The attempted joke faltered in the thick air.
"Well, that too. But you've come further than I ever have. Bring me back on the deck."
"Why?" Norrington was more concerned for the man's health than he was about what the man would do.
"I want to die with the sea spray on my face." With tears fresh in his eyes, Norrington helped him to his feet and all but carried the him up the stairs.