Note: Thank you for the lovely reviews. They are so encouraging. They made my day. You really know how to...push my buttons... Other than that, I'm sorry this took so long. Hope you enjoy this part!


The Breaking
Chapter 6

Sparrow only returned to Bloodstone three days later, feeling calmer but a little less sane. His supply of food and potions had dwindled. As he shuffled back to Bloodstone, townsfolk he passed seemed torn between wanting to help him or run away from him. Sparrow was too exhausted to smile or reassure them he was still alive. With his wounds, dried blood stains, sweat and new scars, he guessed that he looked even worse than the hollow men or banshees he had happily slaughtered the days before. His arms still tingled from the multiple kills. There was a pleasurable ache running through his body. A whore smiled invitingly at him. He quirked a smile but brushed her off. There were hushed comments that reached his ears then faded into a numbing silence in his head.

He thought he heard Theresa's voice call him but there was nothing in his mind. His own heartbeats echoed within his frame.

Within moments, he had reached the mansion. Alex opened the door for him, obviously expecting his return with more than a little worry. Sparrow felt a tinge of guilt for making his butler wait for him like that. He apologised as best as he could. Alex just shook his head at him as he entered the mansion, fatigue slowly grappling onto him with every step.

He felt grey eyes boring into his back but he ignored the sensation.

Upon entering the bathroom, he was grateful to see servants scrambling to set up a bath for him. He sighed in relief, watching swirls of vapour float above the warm water. Slowly, Sparrow stripped off his soiled and torn clothes, piling them onto the floor. The servants left him then. As soon as he lowered himself into the water, he groaned at the sheer pleasure of enveloping liquid warmth. The servants had dissolved some healing herbs into the bathwater and the medication prickled delightfully over his bruises. It felt…amazing and soothing. A long breathy moan left his lips as he moved the flannel over his body, catching wounds in a mix of pain and pleasure. Sparrow rubbed at the dirt and grime on his skin, feeling sleep call him as his movements slowed down. His muscles weighed a ton now. The last thing he thought of was how Sable would never let him get this wasted when the mutt was alive. He laughed, then sobbed, then gave in to slumber.

When he woke up next, the water had gone cold but there were warm hands massaging his shoulders. Needless to say, he was alarmed but could do little. His body was not really cooperating with him at the moment. He tried, though. He tried moving away from the touches, sloshing the water weakly but trembled from the effort.

"Easy, Hero. I've got you," Reaver's voice tickled his nape. Sparrow sighed in both content and defeat. His muscles screamed at him when he stretched, feeling hands trail over his back. Sparrow groaned at the contact, sensitised from the healing. His skin had puckered from being too long in the water. He forced his body out of the tub, sluggish and uncaring about his nudity, water dripping on the floor. Reaver caught him before he fell. They slowly made their way to the bed where Sparrow collapsed. Insistent hands adjusted him so that he lay comfortably under the sheets even though he was soaking them with bathwater. He fell asleep again.

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Sunlight warmed his eyelids when he came to. He kept his eyes closed as he took in the morning and the sounds of the mansion. Alex was in the kitchen like most of the servants were. He heard their padded feet walking on the floor. The sounds of breath within his room also came to him. He was here wasn't he? A heavy hand wound its way around his waist, pulling him till his back was pressed against a firm chest. Warm exhales fluttered against the nape of his neck. Sparrow sighed in comfort.

"Still tired?" the other man asked, sounding like he did not care. Sparrow nodded anyway, shifting in the hold. His limbs were heavy and he still felt the traces of ache running through his body. He was exhausted even though he had just woken up from deep rest. He was too tired to fight.

Burning fingertips traced over his will lines as a pliant mouth lapped his skin. The grip on his waist tightened. Sparrow shuddered, feeling a bit more awake. He opened his eyes then, seeing the both of them reflected in the full-length mirror opposite the bed. His gaze met the pirate's in the reflection and Reaver stopped his ministrations on his neck to smirk at him. He saw his own cheeks redden before he felt the heat in them. He expected the pirate to comment but he only rolled over him, before capturing his lips in a searing kiss that was both gentle and demanding. The pirate was already much too energetic in the morning. The tip of a soft tongue slid over his lips, coaxing them apart to plunge into his mouth. Sparrow weakly shoved against him, the velvet muscle leaving the confines of his mouth, but their lips were still pressed together, breaths mingling. There was a taste of wine in his mouth. With a shaky breath, Sparrow turned his face away from him and the mirror. The same pliant mouth made a wet path on his throat, softly nipping at the flesh, a hum vibrating around each mark.

This felt very good. His touches always felt good. It had been just one night that they spent together but Sparrow was certain he knew enough to know the extent of Reaver's skills in bed. It was easy to be sucked into this. In fact, he was already giving up his resolve when the kisses slid down his chest so tender that they hurt. Those kisses weren't meant. They were just for breaking. He wanted to blame it all on exhaustion because he was indeed, exhausted. He wanted to shove Reaver but as he pressed a hand against the pirate's bare chest, heartbeats kissing his palm made him hesitate. He had forgotten that even demons had hearts. The skin was warm against his touch. The pirate lifted his head to meet Sparrow's sidelong gaze and for a moment, his teasing smirk faded into something akin to a human smile, a reassuring one even. Something pierced Sparrow right under his ribs then, something warm and sharp.

"I wonder what y' want. Y' nevr seem to want anythin', love." Reaver's voice slipped into a mixture of foreign accents that Sparrow couldn't place. There was a warm, wet kiss placed over his pulse. "M willin' to give it to y'…" Sparrow closed his eyes and snorted in response. His body shivered as he tried to control his inner demons that rose to meet him. He wanted many things. He just couldn't have them. Like his family back. He felt cheated. That was probably why he kept hoping Theresa would voice to him, again. Tell him she made a mistake. Tell him that there was some way he could get them back. It was not going to happen was it? That was why this was happening. This was the consolation prize. This push-and-pull-thing with the pirate. He wanted it, yet he didn't. This was going to be physically good, yet was this good? Why did he even want to be good in the first place? Being good cost him his family. Why was he thinking about this, even? No more. No more thoughts for today. As he stared up at the pirate who was waiting for some sort of answer, he felt that maybe it wasn't such a bad consolation after all.

"Reava…" he murmured. He felt the pirate shudder at the name he uttered. The grey eyes staring back at him had unbridled lust in them. Sparrow threaded his fingers through the soft, dark hair and pulled him close. "M'tired," he said weakly, his voice disappearing into the other's lips. Reaver grinned slowly as he nuzzled the man below him.

"Y' brought this upon yourself." He laughed. "Looking like this. Smelling like this. Being like this. And that voice…" Reaver pulled the covers up around the both of them. "I will not hold back later, Sparrow," he said firmly; his tone was a dangerous calmness. Sometime during this exchange, Sparrow fell asleep again.