Chapter twelve: Musings

I awoke suddenly, feeling a steady gaze on my face. However, I didn't open my eyes, knowing who was staring me.

"How is my face so interesting, Jack?" I asked, yawning. I heard him inhale softly at finding me awake, and catching him.

"Because its beautiful, love." I finally cracked open my eyes, smiling.

"Only to some." We kissed, both unaware of each others breath, lost in the moment.

Until a baby's wail hit the air like a death bell. I could feel Jack's lips snarling as we parted, and I fell back into bed.

"And we aren't even taking care of it!" Jack swore, getting up from the bed. Early morning sunlight flittered into the sheer curtains. Jack lifted up the shutters, and I had to close my eyes at the intensity of the sun.

"IT has a name." I said, rolling out of bed myself.

"I never heard."

"Wyeth." I stretched my arms over my head, and smiled over at him. "I wanna go to somewhere...I dunno. I dreamt about a place. Luscious, and rich with plants and beautiful flowers. There was so many different colored birds! Then, I saw my mother and father. Running through it all...laughing. Chasing each other. Then, I woke up." I looked up, trying not to show Jack I had been so affected by a simple dream.

He walked up to me, his bare chest shining in the morning sun. He put his arms around my waist, and buried his head into my tousled hair.

"I think I know somewhere like that." He said into my red locks, he inhaled deeply, a melancholy sound.

"Take me."

It was the most wonderful thing, the ship. I loved it, more then most things. I loved the crew, the sails, and the captain. Whether he felt the same, I didn't know. But I was happy at that moment in time.

But dreams plagued my sleeping hours. They were wonderful, but slightly haunting. I woke up a few times, calling out to my blissful parents. Jack's arms would always go about my waist, comforting silently. I had a feeling of guilt riding in the pit of my stomach, but I was clueless as to what it was. I only knew that when I was awake, I was happier.

"You need sleep." I looked behind me to see Jack standing there. I could barely make out his face in the darkness, but I saw his dark eyes shining brightly. I looked back at the passing ocean below us, rippling as the giant of a ship sliced through the calm waters. I put my chin to my chest, making a half smile, half painful grimace into my breast, then looked up and turned to face Jack.

"I need a lot of things, Jack." I whispered. "But sleep is something foreign to me at this point in time." I leaned against the railing, putting both hands behind me. I clenched the polished wood, until I knew my knuckles were white.

"I don't know what's wrong with me, I really don't. God." Suddenly, everything went black, and I remembered nothing of that night.

Jack stood there, gazing down into the placid face of Mackensy. Her breathing was shallow, and sometimes she called out. But this moment, she was calm.

He had been told by both Gibbs and Greg that it was due to stress. Jack had no clue what could have been causing her so much trouble. But then she started to fever. She would cry out names Jack had never heard, but one hurt. John. She wept, and laughed, and was miserable. Jack stayed there the whole time, impatiently swatting away food and drink. His main focus was the small and frail creature lying on the bed they shared.

He was even told to prepare for the worst, if it should happen. But Jack knew by the death of his mother that no matter how much you prepared for it, it was still a shock. He refused to admit that this woman would die on him. Just when he realized he did in deed love her. He was not ashamed to say it, if the question was asked. And he even prayed to God that if she lived, the moment she opened her eyes he would tell her so. So he hung onto a thread of hope that God would pull through, when he never had before.

All the while they steadily made their way to the place he had promised her. The place Jack knew she saw in her dreams. His only comfort was that perhaps if she did die, then he could bury her there, even if she didn't know exactly why she dreamt about it.

"Sir?" Jack looked behind him to see Greg, looking warily into the captain's cabin.

"What?" Jack snapped.

"Sir, we have docked in Accra."

"Tell Gibbs to decide who gets shore leave, and who stays for watch." Jack said, and turned back to Mack. Greg left, silently.

"Mack? Mack? Mack!" I slowly opened my eyes feeling them sticky as if they forgot exactly how to. When everything came into focus, I saw Jack's face looming above mine.

"I love you." He said suddenly, seeing that I was indeed awake.

"What? I pass out for a couple hours and you are professing your love to me?" I almost smiled until I saw the look on his face. He helped me sit up, thought with difficulty as I was weak for some reason.

"Mack...you've been out of it for near two weeks. I thought...I.." He put his head in my lap, and I stroked his hair, confused as to why I had been so sick. Was I sick? I remembered certain images, and certain times...surely not from the two weeks. I remembered my mother and father...and the night...

"Where are we?" I asked after a moment of trying not to let myself cry.

"Accra." I frowned down at him, and he sat up, running his hands as best as he could through his hair.

"You mean, in Africa?"

"The very same." Jack seemed to be coming down off of tenterhooks, and relaxed a bit. He did what he promised. If she took it was her problem.

"Why are we in Africa?"

"To see where you have been dreaming about, love." He stood up, and opened the door out of the cabin.

"Lazy arses!" He called out. "I need a bit of water in here! She's awake!" He slammed the door again, and swaggered back to the chair besides the bed.

"You are very thin."

"So are you." I said, crossing my arms over my chest, though weakly. I put my head back and sighed.