This Chapter was inspired by the song Follow Me by Uncle Cracker. And rather than listing the lyrics, I've incorporated them into Jack's speech. I thought it would be kinds cute. If you don't recognize the parts from the song, give it a listen and it will be clearer :)

Chapter 6: Follow Me

Jack leaned back comfortably in his chair, watching the spindle of his compass shake violently left and right, taking in the aroma of the faint morning outside, dew on every window as the heat rose, and a good deal of company surrounding him. This was far from his element, the 'comfort' aspect. He didn't appreciate being somber and homely, domestic life was not his way, and sitting in the great hall of the Cove, staring at a table that could suit the mouths of a hundred or more, he felt strange. Somehow his father had found interest in this lifestyle, this containment at the end of a long hole of successes on the seas. 'He's a fool…' Jack thought to himself, kicking his heels back to the floor and standing to leave. He immediately felt lightheaded, more than likely attributed to the amount of porous alcohol consumed in his gut.

"Heading t' bed Cap'n?" Gibbs inquired, looking up from his near empty bottle.

"Not likely. Keep an' eye out, eh?"

"Aye." The response was to a question the first mate had understood for some time. He was to keep an eye out on the ship, and nothing or no one else. "She's safe, Jack." His smile provided Jack with his exit, barreling through the creaking wooden door and into the tight space that was once a hallway. The stretch of doors and rooms was enough to make him dizzy, still spinning from his early morning intoxication. After having walked Elizabeth back to the house, he had needed drink to fill his mind with thoughts other than of her. It hadn't done much.

'Elizabeth Turner…dear god rest er' soul fer that choice.' Confessions and outburst fluttered from the walls of his brain, circling and drowning him in the pain of it all as he continued down the hall to his room. "Dear…ole' William…' He tried to express outwardly, hiccupping with each careful and swooning step, "Is a right…err…wonderful husband, Lizzie." With one hand to the wall in haste, Jack fizzled along the side of the tunneled space, his eyes fixed on the last door. "He shall…be…a right well husband. Take care o' all yer needs…" He couldn't help but burst into laughter at his own remark, wit and charm blended forcefully to create a snide cynicism. This was Jack Sparrow, try as one might to change him.

From inside of the closest room, shifting silently beneath the sheets and staring blankly at the backside of the door, laid one such a husband's love. Elizabeth tried to hold back every bit of laughter, only smirking as she saw Jack's shadow trickle past, with the light flooding from beneath the doorway. Everything he was saying, whether he realized it or not, was truth in his eyes. This she knew.

From outside rather, Jack leaned softly against the wood frame, his lips practically meeting the door as he spoke to the woman he believed to be asleep and dreaming. "Uhh Lizzie…dear…" Her ears perked with interest as she sat in bed to take a closer listen. "Just…follow me, an' e'ery thing, is alright."

"What's he talking about?" Whispering to herself and holding the sheet to cover her lips from giggling. Jack trudged on with words, out of context and out of consciousness. "Let me…be the one luv, t' tuck you in at night, eh?" His heart was on the very tip of his tongue at this point and Elizabeth was well aware, the things that were spilling out were not meant to, but she could not have stopped him now. So she stayed put, hand to her mouth, and eyes wide to the shadow beneath her door. "An' if ye, uh, want t' leave…I can...err guarantee…that ye won't find anyone else…quite like me dearie…"

'Oh I'm sure there's a few more like you Jack…' She thought inwardly, rolling her eyes at every bit of his prideful front, but was still greatly amused. This speech was a far cry from his island speech about freedom. "An' Liz'beth, I'm not worried bout' that ring ye wear…well…if the whelp did get ye one? I doubt it, not…rather couldn't be William's style…" Slurring was beyond such a comparison, with Jack's palms gripping tightly to the edge of the doorway, trying to stand upright as he continued and held his ear to the door. Even through his stupor, he was trying to listen to her breathing. "Cause…as long as none o' these gits know…then not a one of them can care luv…"

His voice had changed, she could feel it. Softer, smoother like the ocean.

Gutteral ease was sliding the length of his neck, forcing the words to come out from somewhere deep inside of his mind, his spirit, his heart possibly. Jack couldn't stop it if he tried. "All I know …is that when I'm with ye…" Coughing, holding back his breath in anticipation of what was coming; Jack halted and stood starkly at the door. Inside, Elizabeth's mind was tumbling in fear, having heard it all up until now, and not exactly sure where the following seconds in time and space would lead them. "All I know…is that I'm free with you Elizabeth."

Her heart stopped.

His head fell weak.

"It's just so damned hard…" He wasn't finished and made this clear as his fist belted into the door, as Elizabeth's head rose to listen again, she noticed that the corners of her eyes felt wet. "It's like yer swimmin' through me veins all day…in an' out all day…like a fish through the sea, an' it hurts. It hurts so bad Lizzie." Tears dropped like embers in a burning flame to the sheets below, one by one like bullets into the chest of someone she loved, unable to think or respond, breathe or move. Somewhere in the darkness of the hallway Jack stood, hand still pressed lightly to the door, his knees wobbling in frustration of himself, and his head angered with rum. Before he could collect himself to go into her room and wake her, and before she could accept his confession and run to the door to meet him, their spirits died out. Jack turned easily down the corridor and into the adjacent doorway, falling through to the blank heartache of his old room. Elizabeth's head quickly lunged into the pillow, her eyes seeping holes through the cotton.

'Why Jack…why now. I'm married, nothing…nothing can change. Why now…?'

Nothing would process inside of her head; it was all lost somewhere deep down where she could no longer harvest it. On the other side of the wall, less than a foot apart from where her weary mind buried into her pillow, Jack's head lay silently against his own. The early morning purples and grays of the island trickled in through the window to meet his tired eyes.

Rather than moisture, there was only heat. He was drained of all emotion, even though, he didn't quite take recognition of what that emotion was yet.