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The Breaking
Chapter 12

It was like the pirate had shot him after all and he had bled everything out, leaving nothing but facts.

This was Reaver.

Reaver was dead.

This was… Reaver.

It never crossed Sparrow's mind that he would live to see a lifeless Reaver. Sparrow brushed his knuckles over Reaver's prominent cheekbones. The almost blistering warmth that was synonymous with the pirate was gone. It was…His body was cold to the touch. Unbearably cold because Reaver felt like any other corpse. The skin that Sparrow remembered as forever scorching was icy and passive. The lips that were now plain without its 'perpetual' smirk felt frozen on his fingertips. The eyelids that hid piercing eyes were unyielding. The too pale skin, paler than his own, was like porcelain. Devoid of fire. A shuddering breath passed Sparrow's lips as he mouthed the pirate's name on an unresponsive palm.

Cold.

So cold.

No twitches of breath. No tiny jerks of nerves where skin met skin. There was nothing that resembled Reaver.

Yet…

…this… was Reaver.

And Reaver was dead.

Sparrow only swallowed the lump in his throat as he closed his eyes, the image of a dead Reaver staining the back of his eyelids.

He turned to the sealed envelope in his hands. Alex had given it to him before heading back to Bowerstone Market. Sparrow's hands shook as he trailed fingers over his name curled in a beautiful flourish on the envelope. The pirate had written it before his death, before he left the mansion for Shadow Court.

Alex said Shadow Court finally claimed his soul.

Sparrow could not picture it. It was unlike Reaver to go into the darkness without a way out somehow. How could Reaver give in so easily? He would have fought death and tricked it for another century instead of letting go like this. It was… 'wrong' that the pirate was dead.

Yet, here he was, blissfully unaware of how Sparrow had weakened when he first recognised that handsome face under the lid of the equally handsome coffin. Never had Sparrow felt more… broken than he was now. Because he had never admitted to himself that he wanted this man and was envious of the many trysts the pirate had with others, that Sparrow sometimes wished he was the only one. Because in Sparrow's life, Reaver had been the only one. But Reaver was dead now and it was too late to wish for something more than a promised nothing.

The creak above him meant that one of the twins was awake; reminding him of his responsibilities. Sparrow dragged the coffin into the basement, the sound of wood scratching the floor echoing in the hallway. Trudging up to the bedroom, he checked the twins. The girl had pulled her toy sword close to her sleeping body. Laying a kiss on her forehead, Sparrow gently shut the door. He returned to the basement and lifted the lid of the coffin to press his lips on Reaver's forehead. Still very cold. Still very dead.

Sparrow traced the seal on the envelope before breaking it. He unfolded the soft parchment inside.

'Are you crying for me, Sparrow?'

That first line sounded so much like Reaver that Sparrow made a choked sound that was between a sob and a chuckle.

'Nobody has done that in a long time. Well, Nicole did last week. And Jenna before that with her brother Jesse. But your tears matter more to me, of course. Do I still look dashing in death?'

Aye, Reava. Ye do. But pale skin does not become ye.

'You should know that I am not one to seek or wait. I just miss your voice, love.'

Sparrow smiled sadly and he paused his reading to light a candle. Then, the letter took a different turn.

'It has come to my knowledge that you possess a very special machine.'

In that moment, Sparrow understood why Alex sent Reaver to him.

'A contraption that defies death.'

Sparrow's gaze darted over to the resurrection machine; the flame of the candle casting flickering shadows over the metal. So, this was why…The pirate had intended to cheat death after all.

'She told me you would be the one to 'save' me, Sparrow.'

Sparrow felt a weight settle on his shoulders and tasted bitterness on his tongue.

'Consider this an exchange for sparing your life… Do be quick, Hero. I am sure my soul is in an unpleasant place right now.'

Sparrow inhaled deeply as the strange mixture of relief and frustration spread through his being. The collar burned around his neck; it felt tighter and more constricting than usual, pressing against his windpipe.

He felt like he was toyed with. Then again, this was the way it had always been with the pirate was it not? He let the letter drop to the floor as he watched Reaver's supine form within the coffin. Even in death the pirate tormented him, pushing and pulling him apart. Breaking him like shattered glass.

Sparrow watched the dead till morning light spilled into the mansion as he worked out the resurrection procedure in his mind. He knew exactly what to do, the buttons to press, the levers to pull and the chemicals to pour.

The question was whether to let the love potion in the machine work its magic on Reaver as well.