In Dreams
This is a short that came to me after some particularly fevered dreams of my own. I like doing these short, angsty shots of what's going on in their minds. Look for more to come...
DISCLAIMER 1: I do not own any of the characters, the original plotlines, or anything else in the POTC universe. I'm just a fan with too much time on her hands. The characters herein are owned by Disney and the talented pens of Elliott & Rossio. The fiction is a product of my own fevered brain, belonging to me, thought up by me, written with my own words and talents (such as they may or may not be). I will be incredibly vexed if you hack my stuff, and in fact will lay a very nasty voudou whammy on you. No. Seriously. Don't do it.
DISCLAIMER 2: There is strong language, violence, hardcore sex and adult situations in many of my fics. Read at your own risk. I'm not going to police your kids for you, so don't blame me if they read something marked "Mature". Dig? Read the rating first.
DISCLAIMER 3: This story is very romantic, as are most of my POTC stories, because I'm a romantic girl. I've tried to stay in character as much as possible while venting my own romantic spleen about how I think Jack and Elizabeth should act. Just warning you. If you don't like the J/E ship, seek other fiction. Seriously.
In Dreams...
He comes to her at night, and tempts her like Satan. He slips into her room, silent in the moonlight, and whispers obscenities in her ears, things so depraved that it makes her twist and writhe in her bed. Except the twisting comes from desire, not the indignance of his words. He describes, in luscious detail, everything he's going to do to her when he sees her again. There are things she'd assumed from hearing the maids' talk, things she is shocked to hear that people actually do, and things she'd never even dreamed possible. And she sweats and moans and cries and reaches out for him. Sometimes she thinks she actually reaches his fingertips before he disappears. Most times he fades away from her, with her name on his lips, "Lizzie," calling her and leading her on. Calling her to find him. And she wakes weeping, soaking wet, feeling a heat in her core that she cannot name and has never experienced. Except for the briefest moment when she kissed him, before she left him to die. She holds that memory, that feeling, to bolster her when the journey becomes too hard or the distance seems too far. She is coming to find him. The compass tells her so.
Will doesn't understand why she is so distant, not really. He saw her kiss the pirate of course (Will refuses to say his name, even to himself), he knows something is going on and he knows she is as determined to get the pirate back as the rest of the crew who signed on for this. But Will doesn't know why she jumps and flinches when he touches her. And he is shocked when he begins to realize that what is in her eyes is naked pleading, that she wants to be touched. And on the heels of that, he realizes that it isn't his touch that she is craving. She is on this rescue mission not because of guilt or because the world is dimmer without that pirate it in. She is on this mission to find the man she loves. And that man is not Will. Still, when she turns to him, lifting her face to be kissed, he can't stop himself because he loves her so. And when she ravages his mouth like a woman possessed, he finds himself wondering if that kiss on the Pearl was the first for them, or whether it happened before. When Elizabeth runs her hands over his chest, trying to reach inside his shirt, somewhere in the back of his mind is the question of whether she did this to the pirate on that island they'd been on. And whether he cares, as long as she doesn't stop. Before he can explore that thought further, Elizabeth has broken the kiss, and run away from him, off the deck and back down into her tiny cabin. And Will Turner's heart begins to break a little more.
In the darkness, he doesn't know where he is. When he is awake, he is terrified, in pain and lost, sometimes screaming like a child, other times moaning like the dead. It's only in sleep that he finds any release, and what he dreams about most is his wild girl. The one who kissed him so deep and betrayed him so easily. Except he knows what he saw in her eyes as she left him. The near hysteria, the tears, the pleading voice that told him she wasn't sorry even as he watched her weep silently. He dreams of coming to her at night, of a cabin on a rocking ship -- not the Pearl -- and seducing her with his words. He watches her kick at the coverlet, watches her fingers twist the sheets beneath her as he takes great pleasure in slowly telling her what he will do to her body. He's pleased at how she responds, her breath gasping and her fingers fluttering. Sometimes he breaks himself, and whispers her name and the word "love" in tandem. Sometimes she tells him the same. And then he wakes to the darkness and the pain again. But he knows that she's coming for him, knows she is coming to save him. And after he yells and makes faces for a bit and the fingers are pointed and the wild gestures made, he will take her into his arms, tell her that he understands, and then ghost her away from Will Turner so easily and so finally that she will be his own Lizzie for all time. For Jack knows, you see. He saw her eyes. And so he can forgive her the pain and the fear and the darkness, most of the time. The times that he wakes up screaming into the darkness, pleading for someone to help him, he can't help but curse her a little. He so hates to be broken. But she's coming, his girl is coming. And she loves him. And he knows it. And he'll keep calling to her in dreams until she finds him. And Jack Sparrow will never let Elizabeth Swann go again.