Title: The Afterglow
Rating: R
Pairing: Jack Sparrow / James Norrington, Jack Sparrow / Will Turner, side pairings (FPS)
Warnings: violence, character death
Summary: Let there be insane soap opera plot twists from hell. And buggery. Lots of it. This story resumes after the ending of Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl.
Disclaimer: At no point do I claim any form of ownership of any of the characters depicted in this piece. My representations of them are not necessarily indicative of the intentions of their original creators. The plot in which I place these characters holds no relationship to their original context. I make no profit from borrowed characters. Don't sue me.
Word Count: 1,118

XI. Massacre at Port Royal

Jack sank into the sheets and kissed Will's tanned shoulder. When they had caught their breaths, Will sat up and began to pull on his pants.

"I must ready things before we leave, tonight. It is already nearing noon and I'll have many things to keep me busy. I'm going to fetch some food and things from the market. Stay here and prepare whatever you will want from the house," Will said.

Jack nodded and tossed him a few coins from his leather pouch. Will didn't ask where it came from. He didn't want to entertain the possibility of it being blood money or something equally distasteful. He needed to stock up because it would be unlikely they'd be able to stop anywhere during the day after they fled. Will accepted the money, threw on a shirt and left the room.

For a moment, Jack listened to the sounds of the empty house. Birds sang, wood creaked, distant shouts from people in the village drifted through the air. Jack knew his time was limited and he roused himself, dressing and then looking for some kind of sack to put useful items in. He had busied himself for only a few minutes when he thought he heard the front door open. Instinctively, he spun around and reached for his sword.

"Elizabeth!" Jack breathed. "Not again…" he whispered.

"Jack!" She echoed his tone. Her eyes quickly scanned the scene. Mussed bed. Mussed, sweaty Jack. How was it possible that Jack managed to intervene on all of her romantic endeavors? She was utterly furious. Turning to go, she spied a sword hanging on the wall in the front room. She snatched it up and whirled back to challenge Jack. His sword was already drawn.

"It is not my intentions to fight you, Elizabeth," Jack tried to soothe her. "Whatever you think has happened surely has been a series of mistakes."

"Nonsense!" Elizabeth snapped.

"If you think I have killed your Commodore, you are mistaken," Jack said. "And I have not precisely revealed your obvious interactions with him to Will. You could turn on your heel and leave this room and no one would ever be the wiser." All Jack wanted was for Elizabeth to go. She would complicate his escape with Will. He was willing to tell her anything to prevent said interference.

Elizabeth did not respond. She parried and fell back expertly, but Jack did not tire. She would have to try another approach, and as Will's teaching had not made her as adept a swordsman as Jack, she had to rely on something else. She would stun Jack, remove his wits.

"I do not think you have killed Norrington," Elizabeth replied. Jack thought it was a little late. He was suspicious of what her reply would be.

"Why, then, have you got the entire royal navy convinced that I did?" Jack asked, warily.

"Because I killed him, myself." Jack's feet failed to move for a moment and Elizabeth nicked him on the shoulder before he could escape.

"What!" Jack gasped.

"I killed the Commodore, myself. I wanted him to take me away. He refused and then I found him with you," she spat in disgust. "After you were jailed, he promised we would indeed go away together, but again, I found him with you. You're both despicable. The only reason you escaped is because I did not find my weapon more quickly. You shall not escape me a second time."

Jack was dumbfounded. His mind whirled. He didn't know if he could justify killing Elizabeth to avenge the Commodore, as a lover is not always the same as someone you truly love. He didn't want to hurt Will. He didn't want to hurt Will, but he was incensed, he wanted revenge and he believed that Elizabeth deserved to die. Woman or no, she was cruel and callous and conniving. Rage swam through his veins. His blood turned hot, his vision tunneled, his footing became clumsy.

At that moment, Elizabeth reached quickly behind her and revealed a small pistol. It seemed to materialize from nowhere. For a moment, Jack stood looking at it. Just as it cocked and her finger wrapped around the trigger, he threw himself out of the way. Then, Jack saw the look on Elizabeth's face. The gun dropped from her hands and they rose to her mouth. Tears welled in her eyes.

Jack looked behind him. The front door… He had been standing in front of the door before he evaded Elizabeth's shot. Will must have opened the door at that very same moment, as he now stood in the doorway, parcels from the market strewn at his feet, blood seeping through his shirt from between his fingers. Jack stared horrified. Then, he retrieved his own pistol from his belt. He pointed it at Elizabeth. She did not look up until he spoke.

"You cheated," Jack said bluntly. She looked at him just before he shot her square in the middle of her chest. There was a moment of eye contact. Then, she stumbled backward with a muffled cry and Jack ran to Will's side. Jack fell to his knees. He picked up Will's head and held it to his chest. He wanted to tell Will everything Elizabeth said, but there was too much blood. Not enough time to figure out what to say or how to say it. Jack bent down and kissed Will, whose lips were almost too weak to kiss back.

Then, Jack saw stars as a sharp pain emanated from between his ribs. He fell back on his haunches, gently releasing Will's head. Looking down, Jack saw the knife sticking out of his own chest. Will had avenged his wife. Jack looked up at him, lungs failing, eyes filled with tears.

"I loved you," Will choked. There was blood on his tongue.

"She had wronged you, but I could never die by better hands," Jack replied.

Will's face contorted. He didn't see what Jack saw.

"Elizabeth killed the Commodore. She was trying to finish me off," Jack was cut short.

"The shot… She had shot… Oh god," Will stammered. He understood.

"I do love you," Will said.

"I have always loved you," Jack replied.

Jack leaned down again and kissed Will's lips. Will clutched at Jack's hair with his bloody fingers. Jack only stopped when Will's hands fell away. Jack smoothed Will's mussed hair as he had done in life. He wiped away the boy's tears and cleaned the blood from the side of his mouth. Then, Jack collapsed on an elbow as he breathed his last.

'Imagine of the headlines,' Jack thought. 'Massacre at Port Royal.'