Summary: Jack and Elizabeth have some bonding time on the island, the pirate captain revealing the true story behind the mutiny- a story that he'd never told anyone. Sparrabeth. Set during COTBP. One-shot.
A/N: Assumes they spend two nights on the island. Contains spoilers for the young Jack Sparrow series as well as my one-shots Thanks and Deception. Thanks is the story from when Jack was nineteen, Deception is my version of the mutiny. I didn't intend this story to end up as long as it did, but hey, it's fine.
Welcome to the Caribbean, Love
"So, is there any truth to the other stories?" Elizabeth Swann demanded, walking in front of whom she spoke to.
"Truth?" Captain Jack Sparrow repeated, raising his eyebrows. He pulled up his right sleeve, revealing the pirate brand he knew she had already seen. He switched arms, unveiling the scars of a series of cuts along the veins of his forearm. Finally, he tugged his shirt collar aside to show her two bullet marks on his right breast. And there's more where these come from. "No truth at all."
She stared at him, dumbfounded.
Sighing to himself, he sat down in the sand and uncorked one of the bottles of rum. "We still 'ave a month, maybe more. Keep a weather eye open for passin' ships an' the chances are fair."
"And what about Will?" The young woman asked sadly. "We have to do something."
"Ye're absolutely right." He agreed, corking the rum bottle and rolling it down to her. He uncorked the other one and held it up. "'Ere's luck to ye, Will Turner."
Elizabeth slowly bent down and picked up the bottle as the waves lapped over it. In defeat, she uncorked it, coming to sit at his side and stare out at the horizon.
*X*
To the dismay of the island's inhabitants, the Caribbean heat only grew. Jack, used to being constantly on the move, grew restless and set out across the island on a walk. He'd left his effects- boots included- back at where they'd originally come ashore. The less he had on him, the less baked he'd feel.
The pirate was a little over halfway around the island when, to his surprise, he came across Elizabeth. He hadn't expected a daughter of a wealthy family like her to walk about in the heat. He half-heartedly raised an eyebrow in curiosity.
"There's nothing to do on this island." She complained, turning to join him in his walk.
"Not my fault, love." Jack pointed out. "Although, we could change that."
"And how's that?"
He adjusted his course and waded out into the waves, letting it come up to his knees. He nodded for her to join him. "It'll help cool ye off too."
Elizabeth sloshed after him. He turned away from her, pretending to examine something in the sand beneath the water. As she neared, he spun around, purposely catching his hands in the water and flinging it towards her. She let out a squeal of alarm, leaping back.
When her eyes narrowed and met his amused ones, he half expected her to say something about him being impossible and then head back to the beach. To his surprise, she flung water back at him.
A smirk pulled at his lips, his eyes shining with mischief. "That's the spirit, love."
Slowly, the splashes grew from small and few to large and countless. Elizabeth's hard shell gradually edged away, replaced by the laughter of the youth she possessed. Jack found himself glad that she was no longer demanding things of him and was being more warm towards him. It'd make their stay on the island go by smoother.
A sudden rush of pain coarse through his left foot, his leg giving out. He collapsed into the water with a gasp of surprise. A moment later, he resurfaced, frowning down at the red tinted water.
"That oughta call a shark." He mused. "C'mon, let's get back to the beach."
She obediently headed back for the beach. "What was it?"
"Conch shell. Mighty sharp one too." Jack replied, limping after her. He sat down on the dry sand, inspecting the bottom of his foot. "Well, on the bright side, it's not that bad. Got lucky it was a smaller one. Worst case scenario, it'll get infected."
Elizabeth sat down beside him. "How soon would a shark come?"
"Could be a matter of minutes, could be a few hours." He shrugged. "I recommend we stick to the beach over by our little camp. Far enough away, I'd imagine. But, later. Need to stop bleedin' before I do anythin'."
"Are you alright?" She finally asked.
"Love, I've been shot. This is nothin'." He assured her, laying back in the sand with a sigh.
*X*
When it'd finally begun to cool down, daylight fading to sunset and then to darkness, they'd returned to their camp. Jack had lounged around, drinking some rum and nursing his foot, while Elizabeth had stared at the horizon in hopes of spotting a ship. They both found, however, that the longer the sun was gone, the cooler it got.
"Jack." Elizabeth called his name from somewhere closer to the water.
"Go find some sticks an' branches." He ordered wearily. "I know a thing or two 'bout startin' fires."
The sound of sand shifting filled the air as she got up and walked up the beach. "Are you coming?"
"No. I've stepped on one thing too many already." Jack huffed.
"What about me?"
"Hmm?"
"I haven't got any shoes." Elizabeth reminded him.
"Take my boots." He suggested helpfully.
She struggled to form a response. "I- you- No!"
The pirate snorted. "Your choice. Ye're gettin' the sticks either way."
He could make out her kicking sand angrily before she stomped in his direction. He heard the familiar sound of leather against skin and smiled softly to himself. That was before she kicked his arm.
"Ouch!" He hissed, wincing away from her.
She stomped off, muttering an audible,"Bloody pirate."
*X*
It was a while before she came back, Jack noted. He'd propped himself up against a palm tree and pulled his black vest back on by the time she returned, dumping the sticks at his feet.
"I was beginnin' to wonder if ye decided to stay on the other side of the island." He commented, getting to his feet and moving said sticks towards the middle of the beach.
"I considered it." Elizabeth told him, still sounding slightly annoyed. "But I didn't want the one person who's been marooned here before to freeze to death and leave me clueless."
"Ah." He felt around for a stone. Finding one, he drew his sword and began trying to light a spark. "Ye know, ye don't have to act like that."
"Like what?"
"Like a governor's daughter. We're marooned. No one's askin' ye to keep up with how everyone else wants ye to be."
"You make it sound easy." She sighed. "Though I don't suppose you come from a wealthy family."
He chuckled. "Quite the opposite, really. My family's all pirates, love. I was born on the sea. But, I do know how ye feel. I spent a few years under the East India Trading Company."
"Really? What was it like?" Elizabeth sounded genuinely curious.
Jack's eyes lit up as the fire roared to life. "It was bloody suffocatin'. Too many rules."
"What happened?" She asked him.
"That's a story for another time." The pirate tossed his sword back up the beach, the stone after it. He laid back in the sand, letting the warmth of the fire spread over him. "That's better."
Elizabeth followed his example, laying down as well.
The unlikely pair fell into a comfortable silence. The sounds of the gentle waves, leaves rustling in a light breeze, fire crackling, and crickets chirping soothed them.
Jack began to feel sleepy, finding himself falling into a light doze. He rolled onto his side, his back to the fire. Images of Barbossa, in his skeletal form, standing over the body of Will Turner roused him.
"Jack?" Elizabeth whispered, hesitating as she waited for an answer she didn't get. "Jack? Are you awake?"
"Aye." He murmured, too drowsy to come up with a witty response. "Can't sleep?"
"I'm worried about Will." She admitted.
"I know, love. Me too." The pirate replied. "But his fate's in his own hands until we can get off this island."
"What if we don't?"
He didn't answer.
"What happens if we don't get off of the island?"
"Don't worry 'bout it. We'll get off."
"Are you sure?" She asked doubtfully.
"Positive." He slowly hauled himself to his feet, accepting he wasn't going back to sleep.
Jack limped over to the shoreline, sitting down in the moist sand. He watched as the swells lapped at his toes. The sound was reassuring. He could always count on the water to put him at ease during times like these.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Elizabeth settle herself on his left. She absently poked holes in the sand, watching the waves smooth it out. He contemplated scooping up some water and flinging it at her, but recognized the shapes of his boots on her feet. He didn't want to have to wear wet boots if someone arrived early in the morning to pick them up.
"I'm gonna need those back, love." Jack told her.
"Need what back?" She asked, not paying attention.
The pirate captain stretched his joints, turning to face her. She still seemed clueless as to what he was thinking. On his hands and knees, he advanced until they were face to face. Oddly, instead of moving or demanding him to get away, she laid back on the sand. Intrigued, he positioned himself above her so that she had no way of escaping, looking into her brown eyes thoughtfully.
"Ye stopped by the cache when ye were gettin' those sticks, didn't ye?" Jack asked purposely.
"I'm not drunk, if that's what you mean." Elizabeth assured him, a hint of that high tone of society coming to her voice.
He chuckled softly, fondly. This girl was growing on him. "'S alright, love. Don't worry 'bout it."
"Stop looking at me like that." She ordered.
"How come?" The pirate asked knowingly.
"It makes me feel uncomfortable, Mr. Sparrow." She snapped, shoving his shoulder.
The force of the push sent him backwards, landing atop her legs. He placed a hand gently on her stomach. "Right in 'ere, I'd imagine."
"Get off of me, Jack." She demanded through gritted teeth.
"I rather like ye in this position." He murmured in disagreement.
"Jack." Elizabeth warned.
"Persuade me."
"Please move, Jack."
Jack rolled his eyes for dramatic effect, doing as she commanded. He stopped at her feet, reaching a hand up to cup the back of her knee. He used his other hand to pull his boot off of her foot, placing it beside him. He lightly trailed his hand down her leg before releasing it.
"That's what you needed back." She realized quietly.
"Mhm." He hummed.
The pirate repositioned himself to get a better angle for her other leg. He slowly slid his hand up under her shift, to her mid thigh, before reaching for the boot. He rubbed circles in the skin of her leg, feeling her instinctively press closer to him. He hid a smirk, sliding the boot from her foot and laying it aside. He retracted his hand, hearing a whimper catch in her throat.
Jack returned to his previous position, at her side, watching the dark horizon quietly. He felt hands grab his shirt, pulling him onto his back. There was a weight on his shoulder, but he didn't mind. He knew it was only Elizabeth.
"Jack?"
"Hmm?"
"I didn't persuade you to leave me alone, did I?"
"No, not quite."
"Good." She murmured.
Jack wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. She didn't protest, splaying one of her own arms under his shirt and across the skin of his chest.
"Welcome to the Caribbean, love." He whispered in her ear.
*X*
Jack was awoken rudely the next day, thrown into the water. He was awake in an instant, surfacing from the shallows in which he'd been dumped. He coughed for a moment, clearing his lungs of water, before frowning up at Elizabeth.
"Thanks." He muttered shortly, climbing to his feet.
He walked up the beach to examine the fire, finding the sand a lot warmer than he would have liked. He circled around the ashes and charred wood, occasionally feeling for heat from it. He found the fire to be cool and completely out, to his satisfaction.
Jack clapped the back of Elizabeth's shoulder as he approached her, where she had moved to sit facing the horizon again. "Any signs of a ship?"
"No." She sighed.
"Shame that."
She nodded her agreement.
"The sand's burnin' up, love. The water oughta be cooler." He told her.
"All day?" Elizabeth asked him in disbelief.
The pirate shrugged. "Why not? Can't do much else in this heat now, can we?"
"I suppose not." She consented with a sigh. "Too hot during the day, too cold at night."
"Get used to it, 'Lizabeth." He advised. "We could be 'ere for awhile."
"What are we going to eat?"
"It's not food that I'm worried 'bout."
"But we have plenty of water right here." Elizabeth frowned as the pair waded into it.
"Salt water." Jack corrected. What do they teach them in school these days? "It's no good for ye."
"Oh."
"I think I 'ave a solution for that. I'll mess with it later."
"If the sun hasn't taken all of your energy." She reminded him.
"No worries, love. It replenishes every couple o' hours." He winked.
The governor's daughter snorted. "I could almost believe it."
"Right, let's worry 'bout water later. For now, let's get what we can out o' the day. Savvy?"
With that, he flung some of the sea water at her. She laughed, sending some back at him. He tried to dodge to humor her, but his feet slipped in the sand and he ended up underwater again. He knew she'd be laughing at his error, so he launched himself at her legs, knocking her under with him. They surfaced and he chuckled as she scolded him.
"What did ye think I was gonna do?" Jack asked her pointedly, unable to keep a smug look off of his face.
Elizabeth merely splashed him in response, causing him to grin wider. He held up his hands in surrender, wiggling his fingers for effect. Instead of taking him prisoner, her expression sombered. Frowning, he followed her gaze to his left arm, eyebrows raising as he realized she was eying the scars along it.
"How many do you have?" She asked him, her voice barely audible over the lapping of the waves.
He shrugged. "Couple hundred, probably."
"Can...can I see them?" She wondered, sounding hesitant.
The pirate tensed for a moment, the bitter memories of some of the worst of his scars flashing through his mind. He pushed them aside and nodded, pulling out his careless side again. "It's hot out 'ere anyway, I suppose."
He unbuttoned his waistcoat, then his shirt, sliding them both off of his body. He let them drop to the water, knowing the waves would push them back towards the beach. Elizabeth eyed his bare, scarred torso with barely concealed horror for a moment. He couldn't blame her.
Once she regained her senses, she circled him to look at the whips marks and sword cuts on his back. He stiffened when he felt her reach out to trace a couple of them. He allowed himself to relax, reminding himself that his companion didn't have a whip or the need to harm him.
When Elizabeth returned to his vision and stopped in front of him, Jack could see so many emotions and questions in her eyes. "I didn't know anyone could have so many scars."
He offered a sad smile. "Ye kinda jus' collect 'em over the years. There's a price to bein' free."
"Can you tell me about some of them?"
"Which ones?"
"The gunshots." She decided.
He nodded, pointing to one on his stomach. "I was nineteen. We were surrounded an' outnumbered. I didn't see the man in the riggin' of the other ship. He shot me, left me down for the rest o' the battle. We were all lucky to get out o' that one in one piece. That was the first time I ever got shot. Will's father saved me life by draggin' me back to our ship."
"You knew Will's father?" Elizabeth's eyes widened in surprise.
"Met him when I was sixteen." The pirate confirmed, fighting off a wave of all sorts of emotions. "He's 'bout ten years older than I am. Good man, good friend...for awhile."
"What do you mean? What happened?"
Jack closed his eyes, sighing deeply. The face of a friend, of a traitor, appeared to him. He vaguely wondered if the man would want him to tell this story. He shook his head, opening his eyes again. For once, he found himself hesitating. "I- it's a long story."
Elizabeth didn't say anything, her understanding expression gently urging him to continue. She seemed to comprehend that she hit a fragile spot within him.
"The Black Pearl was my ship, once. Hector Barbossa joined the crew, quickly became first mate. I thought I could trust him. We were goin' to Isla de Muerta. He wanted the coordinates, I gave them to him. That night, he led a mutiny against me. He had every last man with him." He finally told her, his tone relaying how he felt.
"That's why you're after the Black Pearl." She realized.
Jack nodded. "I've only ever wanted my ship back. Jus' curious timin' that ye got kidnapped an' Will came to me to help."
"What happened during the mutiny?" Elizabeth asked quietly, sounding almost timid at how he'd react.
"They caught me off guard. Barbossa came up behind me, I thought he needed me for somethin'. Turned around, an' he shot me. The rest of the crew was standin' right behind him, silent as the grave. I had no idea. But he shot me, with two pistols. Hit pretty hard." He tapped the two bullet scars on his breast. "The impact blasted me over the railin', into the water. I managed to latch onto the side of the ship. They hauled me back up onto the deck, pinned me down on me back. Barbossa ordered Bill to cut his blade into my arm so I couldn't grab on again." He gestured to the grooves along the veins of his left arm. "They gave me my effects an' threw me in the ocean near 'ere. Barbossa said I likely wouldn't even make it ashore before I drowned. Proved him wrong there. I lay 'ere bleedin' an' drinkin' rum for three days, till I got rescued, patched up, an' dropped off in Tortuga. That was ten years ago now."
"Will's father did that to you?" She looked horrified, eyes following the scars on his arm.
"Well, he didn't have much o' a choice. It was either side with Barbossa an' the others or me. He probably would've gotten thrown out with me or killed if he disobeyed him."
"Is he still alive?"
"Not for long." Jack sighed. "I was told that he stood up to Barbossa after they got the treasure an' got cursed. He decided to side with me, a little late. Sent Will that medallion, sayin' the crew deserved to stay cursed. They threw him into the sea with a cannon tied to his back. He's goin' to drown when we break the curse. Nothin' we can do for him now."
"Oh."
"Aye, he's out o' luck."