Disclaimer: POTC is not mine.
A Sparrow's Shadow on the Sea
A Father's Failings, A Son's Lies
Jack kissed me awake in the morning. I opened my eyes to look directly into his beautiful, dark brown ones. I couldn't imagine a more wonderful sight to wake up to.
"I saw what you did, luv," he said quietly, as he gently brushed the hair off my face.
"You think it turned out nice?" I asked him, smiling.
"It's beautiful, Eve," he answered, clearly quite touched.
"We can paint the name or initials on it too, once we decide what to name the baby," I suggested.
"And do you have any ideas, regarding a name?" he asked, intrigued.
I thought I'd have a little fun. "If it's a boy, I thought Ichabod would be a nice name," I said, trying desperately to appear convincing and not laugh, "And if it's a girl, perhaps Gertrude or Agnes."
Jack stared at me blankly, a look of terror building in his eyes.
And I burst out laughing, unable to contain myself any longer. The look of relief I saw wash over him made me laugh even more.
"That wasn't very nice, luv," he stated flatly.
"What? You don't like Ichabod? We could call him 'Icky' for short!" I tried desperately to compose myself. "Sorry, darlin', couldn't resist," I confessed.
"Ichabod Sparrow," he mumbled, shuddering, "Now that's just begging for a mutiny."
I giggled, thinking of it as the equivalent of a 17th century "kick me" sign. "How about Gertrude Sparrow?" I teased, "Won't the boys just be lining up to get their hands on her?"
"They'd better not!" he suddenly said threateningly, "My daughter will not…" Jack stopped when he saw my expression.
"Our daughter will not what?" I asked, "Will not fall in love with a handsome scoundrel and live happily ever after?"
"That's not what I meant," he said flatly.
"If we do have a girl, you'll not be turning into an overprotective father, Jack Sparrow," I declared, "She will learn to sword fight and shoot pistols, just as a boy would. And she will choose her own man to love, without our interference."
"You've been spending too much time with Kate, luv," he teased.
"I've felt that way since long before I ever met Kate, or you," I informed him. "Besides, she'll be well-prepared to face the world with us as parents. You can teach her all about the ways men would try to manipulate her, while I can teach her how to manipulate said men," I explained, smirking.
"I hope we have a boy," he muttered.
I gasped dramatically. "It can't be! Captain Jack Sparrow, shying away from a challenge?" I teased.
"Not on your life, Missy!" he growled, pouncing on the bed and tickling me, "I just don't like being outnumbered!"
"Stop it, Jack!" I screamed, between fits of giggles, as I tried to block his agile fingers.
"And will you stop provoking me?" he demanded.
"Never!" I said defiantly, only to find myself the victim of further torment from his tickling. So, I tickled him back.
"Surrender, luv!" he ordered commandingly, while flinching to avoid my hands.
I smiled wickedly. "To you? A lowly pirate? Never!" And I tickled the sensitive sides of his abdomen relentlessly.
He grabbed for my wrists, then pinned me down on the bed. I fought his grip valiantly, but he used his body weight against me. "Surrender now, my darlin'?" he drawled with a gilded grin.
"Make me!" I retorted, my eyes blazing with insolence.
He grinned lecherously. "Now there's a pleasurable challenge I'd never shy away from!"
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The warmth of the afternoon sun prompted Jack and I to head for the cool breezes of the beach. Even as we made our way along the path through the rainforest, the heat combined with the humidity made the air oppressive. By the time we reached the beach, I felt hot and sticky, and the thin fabric of my short skirt and sleeveless top clung limply to my skin.
The cool breeze blowing off the bay was a welcome relief, as we sat in the shade of the palms. Anchored in the bay, the Black Pearl was a majestic sight as she gently rocked in the green and turquoise water.
I looked at Jack as he reclined on his elbows, absentmindedly twirling a small stick in his graceful, dexterous fingers. And I decided there was no time like the present.
"Jack, why are you angry at your father?" I asked, out of the blue.
His eyes shifted to look at me. "Humph," he said, sitting up, "Wasn't expecting that." His expression turned first somber, then cold, as he considered his response.
"I believe I mentioned that I cared for my mum when she was sick," he paused, glancing at me as I nodded, "And, naturally, she kept asking about my father, so I sent word to him that she was ill. And, in typical Grant Sparrow fashion, he never showed up. Not until after she was dead and gone." The muscles in his jaw tensed and bitterness swam in his dark eyes as he stared out at the bay.
He sighed deeply. "As her fever worsened and she became weaker, she was prone to fits of delirium, and she would hysterically cry out for my father and demand to know why he hadn't come to be with her. I was forced to make up elabourate excuses to tell her, to keep her from wasting the little strength she had," he explained defeatedly, as he angrily poked the stick into the sand, over and over.
"In the end, she was delirious most of the time, except for when she exhausted herself and slept. On the day she died, in her delirium, she mistakenly believed that I was my father. That he had finally come to be with her." Anger and sadness boiled inside him, a vile brew that had turned his expression icy cold.
"And, believing I was him, she professed her lifelong love to me. And she pleaded with me to tell her why I hadn't spent more time with her, to tell her what she had done to drive me away, and how she had hurt me so much that I spent a lifetime avoiding her," his voice cracked with emotion, making him pause for a moment.
Jack turned to look at me, his eyes swimming with unshed tears. "Eve, I spent the last hours of my mother's life lying to her. Inventing all sorts of pretty little lies to compensate for all of my father's shortcomings and broken promises…I should not have had to do that! That bloody bastard of a coward should've done that himself!" He threw the stick into the water as tears spilled onto his cheeks.
I had expected Jack to go stomping off down the beach at that point. I hadn't expected him to reach for me, seeking comfort. I held him tightly in my arms. There was no sobbing, no more tears at all in fact. He simply clung to me, until the intensity of his emotions had passed.
"You're right, Jack, you should not have had to do that," I finally said, "But, was your mother comforted by what you told her?"
"Aye, she seemed to be," he admitted with a heavy sigh.
"So, you made it possible for her to feel happiness before she died," I told him, "Jack, that's a very generous gift."
"Aye, I suppose so," he said blandly.
"Have you ever told your father this?" I questioned him.
"I was far too angry when I saw him at her funeral," he explained, "Soon as it was over, I went and got myself good and drunk at the Bride. Never saw him after that, until the night you met him."
"Jack," I began, "My mother was also sick before she passed away. And she was in a great amount of pain. The medicine she was given to ease her pain made it difficult for her to think clearly. She hallucinated, and believed all sorts of things that weren't true. She was in a world of her own imaginings most of the time." I paused, consumed by my own painful memories.
"When I would visit her in the hospital, she would become very upset if I contradicted her ravings. And it was very upsetting for me to spend time with her when everything she said was completely outlandish…So, I avoided visiting her, except when my guilt got the better of me," I explained.
"But you did go see her," he said, as he listened intently.
"Yes, when I had to," I confessed, "I didn't ever want to, though. It was too painful for me to see her like that. She had turned into a stranger." I sighed, then continued, "I was afraid that the more I spent time with her, the more I would remember her like that. I didn't want to remember her as being crazy. I wanted to remember her the way she always was, as my mother."
I looked at Jack earnestly. "No one in my family ever understood that. They simply thought I was an uncaring, horrible person. They had no idea how much hurt and guilt I felt tangled up inside me. Do you think I'm a coward, Jack?"
He frowned. "Of course not, luv, that must've been awful," he said sympathetically.
"Jack, what if that's how your father was feeling?" I asked him, "What if that's why he didn't go to her?"
He stared at me. "I suppose you're going to suggest that I have a talk with my father about all this," he said with resignation.
"It's your choice, but I think you should," I told him, "He is the only grandparent our child has."
Jack glanced at me sideways, sighed, then conceded, "You're a harsh negotiator, luv. I'll talk to him next time we cross paths."
"Thank you, Jack," I said with satisfaction.
"Do you think your mum would've liked me?" he asked suddenly.
"Not at first, no, I don't think she would," I answered, beginning to smile, "But I'm sure you'd charm her into liking you, the way you do with just about all women."
"Not all women," he said modestly.
"Yeah, Jack, all women," I corrected, "You just can't help it."
"Sorry, luv, old habits," he said sheepishly.
"Whatever," I mumbled to myself with a slight smile.
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Just before sunset, a thunderstorm passed over the island, providing a soothing cool to the oppressive heat of the day. The limp plants seemed to stretch up toward the sky, eagerly soaking in the downpour.
I ran, laughing, out of the house to the lawn. I danced and spun and pirouetted barefoot in the drenching rain, giggling the whole time.
Today, Jack had shared another deep, dark secret of his with me. And this time, rather than stomping off to sooth his hurt alone, the way he did after he'd told me about Elizabeth, he reached for me. He wanted me to comfort him, to make him feel better. I was overwhelmed with joy!
Lightning flashed in the sky and thunder boomed loudly overhead with such ferocity that I shrieked and ran for cover on the veranda.
Jack was standing there watching me. He was chuckling warmly as he enveloped me in his arms. "What's this? The little jungle nymph's afraid of a bit of thunder?" he teased, "Surely you've endured louder cannon fire without so much as a flinch!"
"Yes, but Jack, thunder's scary," I said, nuzzling against the warmth of his chest, inhaling the comforting scent of him, as it mingled with the smells of rain and wet earth. The feel of his strong arms encircling me, his hands moving over my back, filled me with a deep yearning and gave me a wicked idea.
"Come with me, Jack," I blurted, pulling out of his embrace and reaching for his hand. I pulled him out into the torrential rain, across the lawn, and to the path that led through the jungle. Then, I veered from the path, pulling him along as I picked my way through the delicate ferns and the large, dripping leaves of philodendrons.
"Where are you leading me?" he asked, stopping.
I turned to look at him. The rain had soaked his linen shirt and it clung to his body in an enticingly revealing way. And I wasn't quite certain if it was exertion or simply the mere sight of him like that, that was making me breathless. "You're fond of games, Jack," I said, "Let's play Garden of Eden!"
He smirked irresistibly. "I think you'll be hard-pressed to find an apple out here, Eve," he mentioned, "Although, there's probably plenty of snakes." He looked around nervously.
"Jack, the last thing you need is more carnal knowledge," I purred teasingly, as I pulled his shirt free from his breeches, "You're already a dangerous enough man."
Brazenly, I pulled the thin, wet fabric of my shirt over my head, draping it on a branch. Jack did the same with his own shirt.
How I loved to feast my eyes on him! His bare chest wet from the rain, his long, dark hair falling over his shoulders. He watched with rapt attention as I admired him hungrily. No longer shamed by his scars, he carried himself with pride and elegance. He was truly magnificent!
Our eyes locked, and I beckoned to him, "Come here, my Adam."
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A/N: Sorry, that last part I wrote has turned my brain to mush! Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! I LOVE to read all your comments! Hope you enjoyed the chapter.