Prompt: Time's run out. Originally posted 23/5/07. AU.
I feel like I should mention that none of this belongs to me, since I haven't done that in a while. Although I will still gladly claim Will Turner, if non-one else wants him. (Hah.) Title of this chapter also stolen, this time from Dylan Thomas.
Also, thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed different parts of this…story? Collection? Whatever. I really appreciate every comment, whether praise or suggestions for improvement! Also, listening to AWE soundtrack now: did anyone ever notice how some parts of I see dead people in boats are not only similar but pretty much identical to parts of the Gladiator soundtrack? Zimmer, you funny. And since this note is now longer than the drabble, I'll shut up!
She lies on dusty, hard-packed soil; so still beneath their frantically working hands, struggling to save her—or just to keep her. The earth drinks bright blood thirstily; the spreading stain of damp darkness terrifies them. Jack swears as he examines her wounds, knowing he can do nothing but will not stop doing it; neither notice when his cursing turns to tears, frustrated resentful crying that brings no relief. Will is silent, his face not his own. They cease only when hope is long gone and remain, motionless, her blood on their hands, all three growing cold as dawn approaches.