Summary: Commodore Norrington must remember his past and a little girl in order to save a member of his family. Elizabeth must remember old feelings to save the man she loves. Bootstrap must find Will before it's too late.
Ship: The HMS E/N
AN: I promise that Bootstrap and Will are going to come up in the future... that wasn't just false advertising.
Disclaimer: The POTC characters are the property of the Disney Empire. Peter Pan & Associates belong to J.M. Barrie and Disney. I'm borrowing Nabakov and his Lolita for a moment or two here and there. And if you get the other references I make, you probably know who they actually belong to... Everything else is mine.
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Chapter 3: Stay
James was watching the young Carissa sleep. He'd spent six months with the child. He was only beginning to understand things. Her father, Henry, had left behind pages and pages explaining the situation, but James didn't have the vocabulary to understand the extraordinary details.
"My wife and I can't escape death," Henry had told him. "I've had to watch my wife and I die many times trying to change it, but I can't. Please take care of my little girl."
"I don't know what to say," James answered.
"You know who we are to you," Henry had said. "I'm part of your bloodline. We are the children of your children. And I know you love Carissa as much as I do. You have to save her."
That conversation confused him. The only thing he understood was that the girl sleeping before him was part of him… and now that her parents were dead, he was all that she had left. James still wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to save this little girl from, but he knew that he had to stay with her until she was ready to take him back. And he had to help the girl find Henry's brother, Liam, who was lost in time… And he also had to remember something…
Too many things to keep track of, but he could never leave this child to cope with her loss and this trauma alone.
"No, it's not what Lizzie thinks!" Carissa was saying in her sleep. "Daddy, you told me…"
James smoothed the girl's sweat-matted hair from her forehead, and she woke with a start. Her eyes stared up at him, expecting an explanation. But, her face fell as soon as she realized that she wasn't looking at her father anymore. Finding that it was only James, her lips trembled.
"What's not what Lizzie thinks, little sprite?"
"You didn't do it. You didn't do it," Carissa chanted dogmatically. "Not the way she thinks you did."
"Little sprite," he said in as calming a voice as he could muster. "What is the matter?"
"You didn't do it. You didn't do it. YOU DIDN'T DO IT."
James was frightened. Carissa was staring right through him and her chant was gradually turning into a near scream. It didn't seem like she could see him anymore. He grabbed one of her hands and held on as tightly as he could. She couldn't disappear now. He didn't know if she could find her way back in this state. If she got lost like this, it wasn't likely that she would survive. He'd seen her as a young woman, but that might change. He didn't know what he was doing… She'd disappeared once since her parents had died, and it gave him a fright that he thought would nearly kill him. She had only been gone for a moment, but when she reappeared, she was pale and had been mute for an afternoon. He knew that he couldn't let her be alone. Suddenly, her words hit.
"I didn't do what, Carissa?"
"Betray her."
What could the little girl possibly be on about? Concern radiated from his eyes. He wondered what her nightmare could possibly have been about to make her panic and doggedly chant that he wouldn't hurt… Lizzie.
There was a noise that came from the kitchen, and he turned around.
A much older Carissa—looking to be in her mid-twenties—walked towards her younger self, who was shivering with fright. She sat beside the younger girl and smoothed back her hair.
"Honey, it's okay now. Just go back to sleep."
His mind was spinning. A million questions were running through his mind and the woman that sat beside him was the only person who could answer them. The child wasn't making any sense, but something nagging at the back of his mind told him that her troubles had something to do with an unfortunate and tragic incident that happened in his recent past.
"James, don't panic," Carissa said. "Please try to stay calm right now. Something is about to happen. I need you to follow my lead."
Suddenly, there was a horrible banging at the door of the small apartment. "What's going on in there? We got a call about a screaming child."
The older Carissa quickly and calmly opened the door to the building's security officer.
"Hello, officer," she said pleasantly. "What can we do for you?"
The officer was obviously taken aback. He'd only ever seen the man and the child. He was told that the man was the child's uncle, but there was something weird about the way that the child looked at him. There was an adoration that bordered on sycophancy. And the manner of this man was very strange. He was too polite… too formal. He seemed to be too devoted to this child. And he was single. There was something amiss about the man. But this woman was different. She was pleasant, and stunning. There was an obvious resemblance to the child…
"People heard the little girl screaming," the officer said, embarrassed. "I thought…"
James was confused. The man standing before Carissa had, more than once, looked at him with suspicion and disgust. He couldn't imagine why…
"She just had a nightmare, officer. Nothing to worry about," Carissa told the officer with a sight. She started to continue, but her voice caught in her throat. "Her parents have just died." She paused. "Forgive me. I don't think I've ever introduced myself. I'm the child's aunt—the lady of the house."
James saw that the security officer was obviously enchanted by this older Carissa. The man was positively fidgeting under her smiling gaze. James was almost embarrassed for the man. Not that he blamed the man for bending his resolve under the feminine wiles of his brilliant daughter-of-sorts. As the thought hit, his eyes widened because he'd only just then realized what Carissa was going to say next.
"My husband was good enough to get the place feeling homey while I was away on business," she said while grabbing his hand.
She gave James a little squeeze as if to say, 'Don't worry.'
The officer's attention once again turned to James. Though it was somewhat diffused from the initial moment of eye-contact, the look of suspicion was still there. And his eyes moved to the child, who was now clinging to James's leg desperately. Was it natural for a child of ten to be so attached to her uncle?
"Mrs…?"
"Davenport," Carissa answered.
"Mrs. Davenport, you have to understand my position," he told her in hushed tones. "I'm not sure if you're aware what it looks like. A little girl with a single man that isn't her father… And this is the third time this week the neighbors have heard her screaming."
James watched as her eyes darted sharply to the name stitched on the man's uniform.
"Officer Briggs, my niece just lost her parents. She had to watch them die. Do you think that's easy for her to deal with?" she spoke with a deadly tone in her voice. "My husband and I are all that she has left in this world. How dare you imply that my husband has been anything but loving and supportive."
"I didn't mean," the officer said, unconsciously backing away from the older Carissa, "to add to your pain. But the screams…"
"Do you know how her parent's died? Let me tell you…"
Her voice lowered considerably so that James could barely hear her. Still holding her hand, he gave it a little squeeze. Then, he smoothed the younger Carissa's hair. The little sprite suffered too much… and now she had these nightmares… nightmares about him and Elizabeth. He tensed.
"And she saw it happen," the older Carissa continued. The she turned towards James. "Can you put her back to bed please, darling?"
James carried the little girl to the bed. She was now looking at him as thought he might disappear, and she was clutching his arms so tightly that it was starting to hurt.
"Don't leave me."
He gave her a small, reassuring smile despite the fear that was building in the pit of his stomach. He softly shushed her until she relaxed her grip on his arms just a bit. Then he looked towards the hallway, hoping that the older version of the girl would rid the place of the guard soon so that she could explain to him what exactly was going on.
As Carissa shut the door, she took a moment to drink in the world of her past. The huge bay windows of the apartment were still looking out onto the San Francisco Bay, and she smiled softly as she caught sight of the Golden Gate Bridge which seemed to be bathed in light that night. She had come home to a place and time that defined her life. She let a small, but genuine giggle escape from her lips as she realized that for the first time in a long time, she felt like she was home.
James tentatively walked down the hallway, and heard the older Carissa's soft laughter. Then, he heard her murmur, "I'm home." As he entered the living room of the rather large apartment, he caught sight of her. And for the first time in ages, she was wearing a genuine smile.
"The moon has come and gone twice since I last saw you wear a genuine smile," he said. "Even when you come to us from elsewhen, your smiles have felt less sincere… forced."
"It's not the company, James," she said, walking over to him. "I hope you know that."
She rested a hand on his arm—the same spot on his arm that still hurt from the desperate clutching of her younger self. He tensed, and she felt it. Her eyes darted to his forearms.
"I did that?"
"Yes," James answered. "I need you to tell me why."
"Because I was afraid that you'd leave me or that the officer would take you away. I didn't want you to leave me alone. The nightmares, as you called them, came from a memory that I didn't understand…"
James raised his arm to interrupt her. "What cause would the officer have to arrest me? He's harbored a suspicious manner around me since we arrived. What am I getting wrong? I've done everything exactly as you told me the last time you appeared."
"James," Carissa started gently. "What you still have to understand about this place is that both social and moral improprieties aren't spoken of in hushed tones anymore. Indelicacies are quite the norm and open fodder for gossip. You have the appearance of an unmarried man with a child that is not your own. The neighbors hear the child screaming on quite a regular basis. They think you…"
She met his eyes, praying that he would understand what she was saying. But he did not.
"Yes?"
"How can I put this delicately?" she said, then paused. "They think that, whenever they hear the series of screams… James, they suspect you of ravishing a little girl's body."
His legs went dull. Even in his line of work, such things had never been so bluntly spoken of. The thought of a man his age with a child that had not yet grown into womanhood filled him with a sick rage. But that others thought that he would…
"James," Carissa said, trying to bring him out of his sickened daze. "They find and expose men like this often here. But it happens in your place and time as well. It's just that no one talks about it."
"They suspect it of me?" he asked weakly.
"Only the officer," Carissa answered. "It happened to his sister, according to him. But his suspicion might have been enough to separate you from me… it is why I'm here."
James's head was spinning. He'd made a promise to his own flesh and blood that he would never go back on. The sick suspicions of a traumatized man would not make him break that oath.
"And your nightmares, what of those?" he asked. "You said that they are memories. What do you see in them that induce you to scream of my innocence?"
"It was the night that you helped those women," Carissa said. "The women who'd lost their husbands to jaundice… and the slave woman."
"You'd been there when I'd caught the slave ship master trying to force these women to sell…" he paused, then continued tentatively, "their company?"
"Yes," Carissa said. "Elizabeth and I were there. It was the night that I watched Lizzie forget her infatuation… her love for you."
"That was a tragic night," James said, shaking his head. "But I do not understand why it would leave you screaming at night and plant the seeds of bitter dislike within the heart of the fair Elizabeth."
"If you think back, James that was the first time that you raised Lizzie's hand to your lips at her father's house. She was enthralled and followed you down to the docks, and I tagged along after her. You got away from us, and it took us ages to find you again. And we did… or we thought that we did."
"Carissa," he said softly, but firmly. "What did you see in those nightmares?"
"I can't tell you what I saw," she told him. "You still wouldn't understand. I have to show you… and my younger self, too."
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AN: I promise that no misguided attempt to turn Commodore Norrington into the barrister that represented the slaves on the Amistad will be made.
Look for a simultaneous moment of time-travel in the next chapter: (4) Carissas, (2) James Norringtons, and (2) Elizabeth Swanns... and another unseen time-traveling canonical character.
Ship: The HMS E/N
AN: I promise that Bootstrap and Will are going to come up in the future... that wasn't just false advertising.
Disclaimer: The POTC characters are the property of the Disney Empire. Peter Pan & Associates belong to J.M. Barrie and Disney. I'm borrowing Nabakov and his Lolita for a moment or two here and there. And if you get the other references I make, you probably know who they actually belong to... Everything else is mine.
*****************************************
Chapter 3: Stay
James was watching the young Carissa sleep. He'd spent six months with the child. He was only beginning to understand things. Her father, Henry, had left behind pages and pages explaining the situation, but James didn't have the vocabulary to understand the extraordinary details.
"My wife and I can't escape death," Henry had told him. "I've had to watch my wife and I die many times trying to change it, but I can't. Please take care of my little girl."
"I don't know what to say," James answered.
"You know who we are to you," Henry had said. "I'm part of your bloodline. We are the children of your children. And I know you love Carissa as much as I do. You have to save her."
That conversation confused him. The only thing he understood was that the girl sleeping before him was part of him… and now that her parents were dead, he was all that she had left. James still wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to save this little girl from, but he knew that he had to stay with her until she was ready to take him back. And he had to help the girl find Henry's brother, Liam, who was lost in time… And he also had to remember something…
Too many things to keep track of, but he could never leave this child to cope with her loss and this trauma alone.
"No, it's not what Lizzie thinks!" Carissa was saying in her sleep. "Daddy, you told me…"
James smoothed the girl's sweat-matted hair from her forehead, and she woke with a start. Her eyes stared up at him, expecting an explanation. But, her face fell as soon as she realized that she wasn't looking at her father anymore. Finding that it was only James, her lips trembled.
"What's not what Lizzie thinks, little sprite?"
"You didn't do it. You didn't do it," Carissa chanted dogmatically. "Not the way she thinks you did."
"Little sprite," he said in as calming a voice as he could muster. "What is the matter?"
"You didn't do it. You didn't do it. YOU DIDN'T DO IT."
James was frightened. Carissa was staring right through him and her chant was gradually turning into a near scream. It didn't seem like she could see him anymore. He grabbed one of her hands and held on as tightly as he could. She couldn't disappear now. He didn't know if she could find her way back in this state. If she got lost like this, it wasn't likely that she would survive. He'd seen her as a young woman, but that might change. He didn't know what he was doing… She'd disappeared once since her parents had died, and it gave him a fright that he thought would nearly kill him. She had only been gone for a moment, but when she reappeared, she was pale and had been mute for an afternoon. He knew that he couldn't let her be alone. Suddenly, her words hit.
"I didn't do what, Carissa?"
"Betray her."
What could the little girl possibly be on about? Concern radiated from his eyes. He wondered what her nightmare could possibly have been about to make her panic and doggedly chant that he wouldn't hurt… Lizzie.
There was a noise that came from the kitchen, and he turned around.
A much older Carissa—looking to be in her mid-twenties—walked towards her younger self, who was shivering with fright. She sat beside the younger girl and smoothed back her hair.
"Honey, it's okay now. Just go back to sleep."
His mind was spinning. A million questions were running through his mind and the woman that sat beside him was the only person who could answer them. The child wasn't making any sense, but something nagging at the back of his mind told him that her troubles had something to do with an unfortunate and tragic incident that happened in his recent past.
"James, don't panic," Carissa said. "Please try to stay calm right now. Something is about to happen. I need you to follow my lead."
Suddenly, there was a horrible banging at the door of the small apartment. "What's going on in there? We got a call about a screaming child."
The older Carissa quickly and calmly opened the door to the building's security officer.
"Hello, officer," she said pleasantly. "What can we do for you?"
The officer was obviously taken aback. He'd only ever seen the man and the child. He was told that the man was the child's uncle, but there was something weird about the way that the child looked at him. There was an adoration that bordered on sycophancy. And the manner of this man was very strange. He was too polite… too formal. He seemed to be too devoted to this child. And he was single. There was something amiss about the man. But this woman was different. She was pleasant, and stunning. There was an obvious resemblance to the child…
"People heard the little girl screaming," the officer said, embarrassed. "I thought…"
James was confused. The man standing before Carissa had, more than once, looked at him with suspicion and disgust. He couldn't imagine why…
"She just had a nightmare, officer. Nothing to worry about," Carissa told the officer with a sight. She started to continue, but her voice caught in her throat. "Her parents have just died." She paused. "Forgive me. I don't think I've ever introduced myself. I'm the child's aunt—the lady of the house."
James saw that the security officer was obviously enchanted by this older Carissa. The man was positively fidgeting under her smiling gaze. James was almost embarrassed for the man. Not that he blamed the man for bending his resolve under the feminine wiles of his brilliant daughter-of-sorts. As the thought hit, his eyes widened because he'd only just then realized what Carissa was going to say next.
"My husband was good enough to get the place feeling homey while I was away on business," she said while grabbing his hand.
She gave James a little squeeze as if to say, 'Don't worry.'
The officer's attention once again turned to James. Though it was somewhat diffused from the initial moment of eye-contact, the look of suspicion was still there. And his eyes moved to the child, who was now clinging to James's leg desperately. Was it natural for a child of ten to be so attached to her uncle?
"Mrs…?"
"Davenport," Carissa answered.
"Mrs. Davenport, you have to understand my position," he told her in hushed tones. "I'm not sure if you're aware what it looks like. A little girl with a single man that isn't her father… And this is the third time this week the neighbors have heard her screaming."
James watched as her eyes darted sharply to the name stitched on the man's uniform.
"Officer Briggs, my niece just lost her parents. She had to watch them die. Do you think that's easy for her to deal with?" she spoke with a deadly tone in her voice. "My husband and I are all that she has left in this world. How dare you imply that my husband has been anything but loving and supportive."
"I didn't mean," the officer said, unconsciously backing away from the older Carissa, "to add to your pain. But the screams…"
"Do you know how her parent's died? Let me tell you…"
Her voice lowered considerably so that James could barely hear her. Still holding her hand, he gave it a little squeeze. Then, he smoothed the younger Carissa's hair. The little sprite suffered too much… and now she had these nightmares… nightmares about him and Elizabeth. He tensed.
"And she saw it happen," the older Carissa continued. The she turned towards James. "Can you put her back to bed please, darling?"
James carried the little girl to the bed. She was now looking at him as thought he might disappear, and she was clutching his arms so tightly that it was starting to hurt.
"Don't leave me."
He gave her a small, reassuring smile despite the fear that was building in the pit of his stomach. He softly shushed her until she relaxed her grip on his arms just a bit. Then he looked towards the hallway, hoping that the older version of the girl would rid the place of the guard soon so that she could explain to him what exactly was going on.
As Carissa shut the door, she took a moment to drink in the world of her past. The huge bay windows of the apartment were still looking out onto the San Francisco Bay, and she smiled softly as she caught sight of the Golden Gate Bridge which seemed to be bathed in light that night. She had come home to a place and time that defined her life. She let a small, but genuine giggle escape from her lips as she realized that for the first time in a long time, she felt like she was home.
James tentatively walked down the hallway, and heard the older Carissa's soft laughter. Then, he heard her murmur, "I'm home." As he entered the living room of the rather large apartment, he caught sight of her. And for the first time in ages, she was wearing a genuine smile.
"The moon has come and gone twice since I last saw you wear a genuine smile," he said. "Even when you come to us from elsewhen, your smiles have felt less sincere… forced."
"It's not the company, James," she said, walking over to him. "I hope you know that."
She rested a hand on his arm—the same spot on his arm that still hurt from the desperate clutching of her younger self. He tensed, and she felt it. Her eyes darted to his forearms.
"I did that?"
"Yes," James answered. "I need you to tell me why."
"Because I was afraid that you'd leave me or that the officer would take you away. I didn't want you to leave me alone. The nightmares, as you called them, came from a memory that I didn't understand…"
James raised his arm to interrupt her. "What cause would the officer have to arrest me? He's harbored a suspicious manner around me since we arrived. What am I getting wrong? I've done everything exactly as you told me the last time you appeared."
"James," Carissa started gently. "What you still have to understand about this place is that both social and moral improprieties aren't spoken of in hushed tones anymore. Indelicacies are quite the norm and open fodder for gossip. You have the appearance of an unmarried man with a child that is not your own. The neighbors hear the child screaming on quite a regular basis. They think you…"
She met his eyes, praying that he would understand what she was saying. But he did not.
"Yes?"
"How can I put this delicately?" she said, then paused. "They think that, whenever they hear the series of screams… James, they suspect you of ravishing a little girl's body."
His legs went dull. Even in his line of work, such things had never been so bluntly spoken of. The thought of a man his age with a child that had not yet grown into womanhood filled him with a sick rage. But that others thought that he would…
"James," Carissa said, trying to bring him out of his sickened daze. "They find and expose men like this often here. But it happens in your place and time as well. It's just that no one talks about it."
"They suspect it of me?" he asked weakly.
"Only the officer," Carissa answered. "It happened to his sister, according to him. But his suspicion might have been enough to separate you from me… it is why I'm here."
James's head was spinning. He'd made a promise to his own flesh and blood that he would never go back on. The sick suspicions of a traumatized man would not make him break that oath.
"And your nightmares, what of those?" he asked. "You said that they are memories. What do you see in them that induce you to scream of my innocence?"
"It was the night that you helped those women," Carissa said. "The women who'd lost their husbands to jaundice… and the slave woman."
"You'd been there when I'd caught the slave ship master trying to force these women to sell…" he paused, then continued tentatively, "their company?"
"Yes," Carissa said. "Elizabeth and I were there. It was the night that I watched Lizzie forget her infatuation… her love for you."
"That was a tragic night," James said, shaking his head. "But I do not understand why it would leave you screaming at night and plant the seeds of bitter dislike within the heart of the fair Elizabeth."
"If you think back, James that was the first time that you raised Lizzie's hand to your lips at her father's house. She was enthralled and followed you down to the docks, and I tagged along after her. You got away from us, and it took us ages to find you again. And we did… or we thought that we did."
"Carissa," he said softly, but firmly. "What did you see in those nightmares?"
"I can't tell you what I saw," she told him. "You still wouldn't understand. I have to show you… and my younger self, too."
_________________________
AN: I promise that no misguided attempt to turn Commodore Norrington into the barrister that represented the slaves on the Amistad will be made.
Look for a simultaneous moment of time-travel in the next chapter: (4) Carissas, (2) James Norringtons, and (2) Elizabeth Swanns... and another unseen time-traveling canonical character.
