Two – Things Unsaid
Jack Sparrow had always known the one thing he was not allowed to ask of James. Jack knew the power he had over his lover, knew that if he asked and meant it, James would not refuse. And so, he kept silent and sealed away the words he could not speak.
Then, one night when the moon was high and full and they lay together atop fine linen sheets, Jack twisted his fingers in James' dark hair and whispered, "Come away with me." The wind carried the smell of salt as it brushed over them.
James exhaled slowly. He turned his face toward the window, seeking the eternity of sky and sea. The stars flared wild and bright over the water, and he nodded almost imperceptibly.
Jack scarcely gave him any time to pack more than a few necessary things, and he hurried James down the stairs and out the servants' entrance as quickly as he could for fear the Commodore might change his mind.
When two men instead of one came scrambling up the ladder and onto the deck of the Pearl some hours later, Gibbs, who was on watch at the time, raised an eyebrow at Jack. The Captain was in the habit of returning alone from his forays ashore. When the man he knew as Commodore Norrington stepped into the lantern-light, Gibbs nearly choked, and he stared unabashedly. Other pirates had begun to come out on deck, and they watched James cautiously as well.
"New addition to our crew," Jack said by way of explanation.
Wary tension drained from the Pearl's sailors as if it had never been. Jack had called the navy man crew, and that was enough. Not a soul on board ever thought to ask for anything more.
They sailed for the South China Sea as the moon was setting, and James did not look back.
James shared Jack's bed that night, and every other night after it. In the morning, he went to work and began quietly and unassumingly weaving himself into the warp and weft of life on the Pearl. Any who harbored reservations about taking on a soft, gentle-born officer were soon proved wrong. James climbed about in the rigging as though he'd been born to it, he did not shrink from even the most menial of tasks, and he was quick to lend a helping hand where it was most needed.
In time, the soles of his feet grew hard and tough from walking barefoot across the planks. He let his hair grow until it touched his shoulders and tied it back in a tail at the nape of his neck. He patched and mended the once-fine shirts he had brought with him from Port Royal until he looked as worn and threadbare as any other pirate.
Jack never asked him if he was happy, but he was. Wind and sea and air, and the lifting of responsibility, had brought him no small measure of peace. Jack followed freedom's elusive song across the waters, and James was content to be at his side. Jack turned to him for counsel, and James' sharp and rational mind was a counterweight to Jack's caprice. The legend of Jack Sparrow grew, and a new figure began to appear in the stories traded over mugs of ale and grog—the captain's mate, a pale-eyed, handsome man who bore more than a striking resemblance to an officer who'd gone missing from Port Royal.
Out of respect, Jack did his best to keep his distance from ships of the line, and steered the Pearl clear of ports where the navy had a noticeable presence. He had asked a great deal of James, and he would not ask him to stare across the void at the life he had given up.
But still, when a ship flying the Union Jack was spotted on the horizon, a serious, melancholy humor would come over James, and he would stand at the bow of the Pearl and press his spyglass to his eye until the vessel sailed out of sight. Jack wondered if James was searching for familiar faces, and if he found them, but Jack Sparrow was wise enough not to ask.
Later, when melancholy had deepened into need and sorrow, James pressed his body hard against Jack's and held him in a fierce embrace, as if to remind himself exactly what it was he had gained by leaving.
On those nights, Jack saw the raw, unburnished loss in Jamie's eyes. And though he did everything he could to smooth that pain away, Jack always wondered if there were some questions he should have left unasked.