Blackbeard by Roo
"My baby just cares for me…" Nina Simone
The following day Jack woke up in the empty bed with a dry throat and slight headache. He didn't tell Sara, she'd only say it was his own fault.
The day after that he had a sore throat, and felt sniffly and had to search for tissues on and off all day.
"It's just a cold!" he said batting Sara away.
"Then take something for it."
"It'll work itself out."
"What if it doesn't? You're still not eating enough Jack. You're not 100!"
"Dammit, don't you dare!"
"Dare what Jack? It's the truth! And the truth hurts doesn't it?" taunted Sara.
Anger rose swiftly and Jack threw the half full mug of coffee across the kitchen. It hit the opposite cabinet and shattered, spilling coffee down onto the floor
"Well, did that make you feel better huh? Jack? You can clean it up!" Sara muttered at him as she began to gather her purse and shopping list.
Jack sneezed. "I'm not going to any more damned doctors."
"Fine! Then get sick. I don't care!"
"I won't!"
The door slammed on his reply. Sara was gone.
But he did get sick. And Sara did care. A truly rotten cold settled in his chest and developed into bronchitis. A dry cough and low fever laying him low and keeping him in bed.
"Hey Jack are you awake?"
"Wha?"
"Drink this; it'll help clear your chest." Sara put more pillows behind him to help him breathe easily.
"Geordie?"
"Who?"
"Geordie…"
"No Jack, it's Sara."
"I'm not going to die!"
"Whoever said that?"
"They'll leave my body in here with you to rot, they will." He rasped before coughing again.
"Oh Jack I'm here, it's alright. You're not going to die."
"Bastards….sick…"
"Yes you're sick, Jack. But everything's going to be alright."
"No! They're sick…."
"Who, Jack? You can tell me,"
"NO! Not telling! So hot, wish it would rain…not going back in the box…I won't!"
"It's you that's hot Jack, you're feverish, love."
"I'm sorry," he wheezed.
"Just get better Jack", but she could tell he wasn't seeing her
"Won't get better if you're dead, if you're not here," he said
"I'm not dead Jack. And I'm right here"
"I was there, I saw!" he said beginning to pant and heave for breath.
"Calm down Jack," she urged.
"I couldn't stop it. You're dead!"
"Who's dead Jack?"
"You saved me and now you're dead. They killed you! They killed so many. I had to watch," he said calming a little but coughing hard.
"Shhh Jack. Let it go. Rest please". Sara soothed washing his hot face with cold water.
His eyes shut as he leaned into the coolness. He was murmuring under his breath as he fell asleep.
Sara was upset that the only way she could work out some of Jack's untold story was when he was ill and she had to change his clothes and the bedding. So she'd got some glimpses of his body in her haste to get him cooled down and into dry clothes. Before this he had blocked all of her attempts to get close to him. To be a wife. It never bothered him before, but now he always made sure he was covered up.
Over the next week he gradually got better and was angry when he realised that she had seen his body. She had always loved his long lean body and she wasn't about to quit now just because there were more marks on it. But it bothered him a lot. Sara wondered if it was his way of blocking out some of what happened to him. She had managed to work out some words Jack said in his bad dreams, swearing, denials, asking for water and reciting his name, rank and serial number. Jack must never know about the phrase book and her research, she decided.