Chapter Seven - Birthday Celebration

I partied. Celebrated heartily, if you will. The pirates welcomed me – or at least welcomed the willing occasion to drink bottomless barrels of rum. I've always been my own person, never really gave in to any sort of peer pressure. . .

Until that day. It was so tempting, it was my birthday – and Jack, oh-so-very convincing. I began drinking the rum in the early afternoon, and needless to day, by mid afternoon, my speech was slurred, my walk was unsteady, and Jack's face was quite blurry before my eyes.

"Love, you can't hold your alcohol. . ." Jack murmured, throwing his arm over my shoulder.

Drunk and defensive, I shoved my elbow into his stomach. I couldn't process a comeback to shoot back at him, so instead I chose to excuse the remark. I shook my finger at him and dropped the bottle of rum back onto the table.

I felt absolutely great. Jack had patched my arm and my cheek up earlier, causing post-injury achiness – but now I was numb. I was no longer trapped on a pirate ship, but instead partying. . .It was perfect.

Perfect at least for the next half-hour or so. Perfect while I leaned drunkenly against Jack's arm and bellowed with laughter like an idiot. Perfect until I began to feel overheated and unbuttoned Jack's white shirt just about the whole way down, completely forgetting my surrounding and company. Perfect until the nausea.

"Love, you're sick. . ." Jack mumbled, chuckling with subtle amusement. I felt his hand crawl innocently beneath the back of my shirt and rub my lower back. Urging me to the side of the ship, Jack stayed with me through my drunken sickness. I felt hot and disgusting and I suddenly hated rum. The ship was my support for a long moment until I heard Jack gently say my name. I shifted my weight into a standing position until I felt myself nearly unconsciously shift against him.

"Off we go then," he said, sliding his arms down around me and lifting me over his shoulder.

I groaned lightly. "Ja-ack. . ."

"You're drunk, love. A good rest will do ye some good."

He took the stairs quite gently, but it was still fairly disruptive to my stupor.

Moments later, Jack slid me back over his shoulder to stand before him. I didn't move for a moment, but clutched his vest in my hands gently. He watched me carefully, and I swayed slightly in his arms, smelling the freshness of the sea on him. I barely noticed him ease me back into the bed. For a moment, I thought I felt him lying over me, but soon realized he was only kissing my brow.

It was then I clutched his forearms. It was then when I used them to pull me up into a sitting position. Then when I felt him help me stand, pinning myself against his chest. A moment later, my back was to the wall. His callused hands tore his own shirt from my body, fiddled with the lace to my pants.

My hands played in his hair, tugged at his bandana, and slid down to his shirt.

"Carrie. . ."

"Jack –" My breath caught in my throat when his shirt fell to the ground. His bare, well-toned chest was against my own – the coldness of the wall sent shivers through my body. His lips met mine, and I groaned into his mouth.

I don't know him that well! And you're drunk! So is he. But, he's so warm – so promising. And I was lost in him.

I paused heavily, leaving us both frozen, completely naked, our arms around each other. We didn't move for a long moment until he slowly shifted my leg onto his hip. He was watching me, his eyes boring into mine, but I would not look at him. Not in this situation – I could barely remember my own name. I didn't know what I was doing!

He didn't budge. Not until he tilted my chin up so I could see his eyes. The fear in my own eyes must've reflected into his, because it was all I could see.

"What are you waiting for?" I questioned.

Jack shook his head, and swiftly pulled his arms from around me. I fell gently against the wall and stared at him. He tossed his jacket to me to cover up and proceeded to pull on his pants. "Sorry, love – but, I can't." His voice was coated with regret.

"What. . .Jack – why?" I asked, angrily throwing his jacket to the ground. "I'm that revolting to you. . .?"

"No. 'Course you're not revolting, Carrie. You're young. . .inexperienced. I just can't take that away. . ." He couldn't look at me.

"Take what away, Jack? You think I've never done this?" I slurred, completely lying through my teeth.

"You haven't, love – I can tell." He stared at me with generous pride in his eyes.

I blinked away biting tears and turned away from him, suddenly too exposed. Fumbling with words, I said, "You don't know me. . .How dare you. . ." As I bent to clothe myself in his shirt once more, he spun to face me.

"Oh, better than you imagine. Not too difficult, you see." Jack shook his head and took a sigh. "You've seen enough on my ship – explored too many new experiences. I don't need to add another to yer list, Carrie, you understand."

I burned my eyes into his own. Gritting my teeth, I stared him down. "I'm not a child."

Jack turned away once again, bringing his hand to his mustache and shaking his head. "Carrie. . .get into bed. You need to sleep."

"Why – because I'm drunk? 'Can't hold your alcohol, love'. . ." I mimicked, moving closer to him. "I'm holding it a lot better than you. Look at you, you coward."

I was in his face, but his eyes were unwavering. Not a single flicker of emotion ran through the dull brown circles. Like I'd said before, there's no use fighting with a drunk.

Before I knew what was happening, his hands had grabbed my upper arms and were pushing me into the wall. He was gripping me roughly, kissing and nipping at my neck. My arms began to ache and I wriggled to get away.

"Jack."

"Wo't, love? You don't like it? This is what a pirate does, Carrie – it's what you wanted, no?"

"No!" I shoved Jack away with everything I had. "What do you think you're doing?"

Jack was smug. His shoulders tilted and he eyed me with those dark, knowing eyes. I felt about as big as an ant.

"I hate what you do to me. I hate how you make me feel. I hate you."

I don't think I'd ever quite seen that look on his face before – on anyone. I can't exactly describe it, and I can't even begin to explain the million different emotions that I saw in it. Disappointment, simple sadness, confusion. . . It was a painful moment. One that still remains clear even in the murkiness of the alcohol.

". . .And I love you," I whispered.

That was where his expression took a turn for the worst. I'd just sputtered out some of the most meaningful words ever to escape my mouth – and Jack Sparrow stood before me, mustering the audacity to actually roll his eyes with a scoff. I wanted to smack him, but at the same time, I wanted to hug him and ask him to love me back.

"What the hell was that?" I questioned, raising my voice just a bit.

"Carrie – you're drunk. Get into bed. Just sleep off this idiocy. You don't know what you're saying."

I shook my head. There was no way I was going through this again. I was absolutely drained, practically begging him for some sort of compliance, but he wasn't listening. Falling back into the bed, I tugged up the blankets and listened as he plopped into the chair with a heavy sigh.