Author's Note: Hello all! My apologies for the unusually long delay – I've been out of town recently. Anyways, thank you all so much for your support; I know there's lots and lots of "Pirates" fics out there, and the fact that you all saw fit to give mine some attention really means a lot. I've been editing this chapter pretty extensively; it's the mushiest, schmaltziest thing I've ever written, and I'm not sure how you're going to feel about that. . . I did my best to make it as un-cheesy as possible, and I think I did pretty well, but if anyone has any further suggestions to make it better (Ms. Critique, I'm looking in your direction) they would be more than welcome! In any case, on with the schmaltz. Please, let me know what you think!
Chapter 13: Jack's Confession
One night I lay awake in my cabin and went through all the events leading up to that moment, trying to determine whether I'd missed some important detail along the way. I was lying in my bed, trying to relax both my body and mind but failing. The ship churned back and forth in the Caribbean waters; there was none of the steady rocking that usually helped put me to sleep, but only the jostling of the chop, as if the sea itself shared my restlessness. I shifted in my bed and turned my thoughts over in my mind once more. The one piece I kept coming back to was that first night in Tortuga, when Jack and I were talking outside the tavern. It was then that he had explained why he'd left me with Covington: the other man was too insane to fight, he'd said. Jack would have been no match for him. But then I thought of our fencing lesson more recently, and I realized that I myself had been more than a little insane that night: I had honestly wanted to kill him right then. Granted I wasn't a particularly accomplished swordswoman, but surely I could have taken on someone less accomplished than Jack, and I was certain Covington himself fell into that category. Had Jack lied to me? It was possible, but I couldn't fathom why a pirate would lie in order to make himself appear less battle-ready. Why on earth would he do that? I got up and began pacing back and forth along the length of the cabin, trying to avoid the inevitable. But finally I braced myself, took a deep breath and pulled on my dressing gown.
"You've got to talk to him," I told myself sternly, "There's no getting around it."
I put a hand on the latch of door and resolutely pulled it open. I knew Jack had a habit of walking around on deck when the moon was out, so I had intended to go up the hatch and try to find him there, but as I left my cabin I heard a noise in the deck below me. I wandered downstairs, away from the hatch, and followed the soft, clacking noises into the kitchen. There I found Jack, sitting at one of the rickety tables, fidgeting absently with a piece of cutlery. He glanced up when I came in; his gaze was cold.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
"My apologies, love," he said flatly, "I didn't realize this cabin was off-limits for me now."
His hostility caught me off-guard; I hadn't realized what a blow it was for him to be allowed on-board without being in control.
"You don't have to get angry with me," I said defensively.
"You shouldn't have come between us."
"I was afraid you'd have killed Will if I hadn't."
"I had no intention of killing anyone. If you'd left me to my own devices you would have realized that."
"Well, how was I supposed to know that?"
"Abby, ever since you came aboard my ship you've been meddling in matters of which you have absolutely no understanding. You've tried at every turn to take matters into your own hands, and regardless of what you've chosen to believe that is one sure way to get yourself killed in this world."
"Well in that case I apologize. For trying to use my own brain instead of letting you do all the work."
He raised his cold eyes to mine, and for the first time I was no longer chilled by his disapproving stare; I wasn't afraid of him.
"I know you think you're infallible," I said evenly, moving closer to him, "But this isn't your fight – it's mine. So whether you choose to admit it or not, at some point you're going to have to step back and let me take matters into my own hands; I have to face Covington alone. And if I end up getting myself killed, so be it. At least I'll know it was my own decision to do so."
He could see that I was right; he didn't argue. I cautiously sat down in one of the empty chairs near him.
"Listen," I said, "I need to talk to you."
"Do you now?" he asked unemotionally.
"Why did you lie to me?"
"On which occasion?"
"Jack, please. I just want to know the truth. I know you could have beaten Covington that day on the Black Pearl. Why didn't you? Why did you give me up?"
"Abby, I've told you –"
"No, don't tell me it's because he's insane. That's not good enough. If that were the case, there's no way I'd be able to fight him, and that's just what you expect me to do."
"This may or may not be a fight you can win, Miss Jackson."
"Why are you tagging along, then? What's so different about it this time? You gave me up easily enough when Covington caught me before – why not do the same thing now?"
"Because I don't want to lose you again!"
He threw down the knife he'd been fiddling with. I wasn't ready for that. An ominous silence filled the room. I held my silence and waited.
"Don't look so shocked," he said in a low, dangerous voice, "That's what you wanted to hear, isn't it?"
I opened my mouth, to respond, but it was as if the capacity for rational thought had left me. I averted my eyes and tried not to feel his penetrating gaze on me.
"I understand your coming between Will and myself, but I'm afraid you and young Turner suffer from the same affliction: you're too honest. I'm not the only one aboard this ship who fancies himself infallible."
It was a cruel blow, but it was true. I nodded quietly.
"I know," I said.
Another short silence followed, and then I sensed Jack moving closer to me.
"I sent you away because . . ." he began, "Perhaps I ought to start at the beginning. All my life I've been traveling, seeking out glory and riches and making a name for myself that would surely inspire fear and admiration across the seven seas. But here is something you may not know: every pirate goes hunting for treasure time and time again not to obtain great wealth – that feat is acquired easily, and within a relatively short amount of time. But every pirate is looking not for many different treasures, but a certain one. Something that will make his lawless, rootless existence worthwhile. I thought I'd found mine when I came into possession of the Black Pearl; I'd never felt so . . . satisfied, so complete as when I was aboard that ship. And when it was taken from me I fought with my own life to get it back. But some months ago, I realized I had never once found any treasure worth keeping. I endangered my own life and others' for the Pearl, it's true, but the reason I was so determined was merely to satisfy my own greed. I thought I needed that ship, and I would have done anything to get it back. But when I met you. . . Abby, I make a point of avoiding mistakes. I have never allowed myself to falter, and when I do I somehow manage to make it appear like a piece of some brilliant plan, and ultimately I always reach my goal. But when you came aboard I realized I could no longer think clearly. Do remember what you told me when I asked if you'd be followed?"
"I said I wouldn't be."
"You said 'I doubt it.' You can't lie, Abby. It's not in you. I should have realized right then that taking you aboard was a terrible mistake, possibly the worst mistake I've made in my entire life. But I took you in anyway, and now I'm in a worse fix than I could have ever dreamed of. You see, I've never met an enemy I could not defeat, and I've never found a treasure I could not take by force, but some weeks after you came on board I realized. . ."
I looked up. I had an idea what he was trying to tell me, and I knew it had to be difficult for him. But I didn't know what to say to make it easier. What could I have said? I'd done enough already. But I couldn't stand the pained look in his eyes as they gazed deeply into mine. I had to end it somehow.
"It's true then?" I asked gently.
He looked away.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
The peaceful understanding that had momentarily existed between us shattered like glass. It was my fault; I should have kept silent. I wanted so badly to take it all back, and not just my words but everything. Right then I wished I'd never met him. It would have been a dull, monotonous life with Covington, but at least I wouldn't have to feel the pain of true heartbreak, and the knowledge that I'd brought it on myself. Better than that I wouldn't have to wonder whether I'd just broken his heart as well. But then Jack spoke again, and his voice was different. In place of the careless, flowery drawl I'd begun to expect from him was a low, thoughtful baritone. It was so sad, but beautiful.
"I could have beaten that man, it's true. But if I had . . . You told me that no one would miss you, and I took that to mean you had no one who cared for you at all in your old life. I did care for you. Not at first, but something changed in me when you told me that. I realized then that I could never truly have you unless you chose to give yourself to me. You ran away from me that night, just before Covington's ship finally caught us. I thought you had made your decision then."
"Oh no," I said miserably, "So it is my fault."
"No, no it isn't," said Jack, and he reached out to take both my hands in his, "You must never think that. I misunderstood – the fault was mine, and I'm sorry. But after that, the other ship reached us. I don't believe in coincidence, and I never have, and so I knew what I had to do when that man came aboard asking for you. I had to let you go. It was a test, Abby. I had to see if you'd come back to me. Otherwise I could never be sure that this was where you wanted to be."
Suddenly I realized my cheeks were wet; when had I started crying? Jack reached up to touch my cheek, gently wiping my tears away.
"Abby, I'm so sorry," he said softly, "I've caused you so much pain these past months. Can you ever forgive me?"
No one had ever spoken to me with such open honesty. He must have really trusted me to let me see him in such an unshielded, vulnerable light. When I realized that I almost couldn't bear to look him in the eyes. But I did, and there I saw endless warmth and devotion, coupled with deep sorrow as he waited for my answer. I lifted my hand and moved my fingers along the contours of his face. His eyes closed and he leaned in close to me. Our faces nearly touched; I could feel his breath against my cheek, just like I had that one night when he'd come to me on the deck of the Pearl. My forefinger hovered at the edge of his mouth.
"Say it," I whispered.
He opened his eyes and met my gaze uncertainly.
"Please," I repeated, "I need to hear it."
I saw a light of understanding appear in his dark eyes as he realized what I meant. He took hold of both my hands again and gazed at me sublimely.
"I love you, Abby," he said.
I smiled.
"Then I forgive you," I said, "And I love you too."
Then I pressed even closer to him and we kissed. His hand slid to the base of my neck and he pulled me into the kiss. It's impossible to accurately describe what a miracle it is when two people who love each other deeply, but have for one reason or another kept their distance from one another, finally find their love realized. It was like a quiet fire had lain dormant inside each of us since the day we'd met, and over time it had grown and smoldered, eating away at our very souls so much that it could only be quenched if released, if we allowed ourselves to be consumed by it. This time I led him to my cabin.