Note: Sorry for the delay in this chapter. I had some difficulties during editing.
The Breaking
Chapter 15
Death did not change him one bit. From the way his eyes lit up in mirth, the way his lips were pulled into an amused smirk to the way he shrugged his shoulders as he coolly announced murder, Sparrow realised that death did nothing to Reaver's conscience. It was probably just another vacation to him, just another place he visited and left, like Samarkhand, like the countless men and women he bedded; just another uncharted map. All Sparrow did was cover his face as he let the news sink into the depths of his mind and his heart. What of Victor? The despair, desperation, and agony he must have felt at having to see the bullet rip the soul from his wife, a soul that he had so painstakingly tried to pull from death. That container which held that soul, the body, would have crashed to the ground, leaking a pool of crimson on the floor. Dead. The image of the dead Reaver came to him again and Sparrow shot out of bed.
"She always looked pretty in red," the deep voice added. Sparrow found himself walking to the door to leave the room. He predicted that whatever happened, it was not going to be a pleasant scene for his children to face should they wake up. Gritting his teeth, he made sure that the door to the twins' room was truly bolted before stepping down the stairs all the way to the basement. He threw a blaze onto the logs as soon as the chill of the room greeted him. Tying his hair into a knot, Sparrow heard echoing footsteps follow him. A glance at the man behind him told Sparrow that Reaver felt proud of himself as he swayed towards him. The pants he wore hung loose over his hips; Reaver had not bothered to lace it up, and fine hairs peeked over the crotch of the pants. Sparrow leaned against the table where countless books rested. He had not cleaned up the mess since he brought Reaver back to life. The pirate took a few steps towards him but stopped advancing when Sparrow glared at him. A smirk made its way to his lips. A surge of self-loathing came to Sparrow because after all that, he still wanted the pirate. It was because he had lain down with this man that he could 'forgive' him for being the person he was, sometimes. The truth of it was the confession did not surprise him.
"I just thought your friend deserved better," Reaver explained as though it was justified murder, as though he cared. "I also thought it strange when the wound stitched itself up." Sparrow's gaze darted over to Reaver whose smirk widened and he began walking again. When he was close enough, he brushed Sparrow's cheek with the back of his palm, causing a shiver to travel up his spine. Reaver's touch was still cold but the breath in his ear was warm. "Ah…but she lived." Sparrow's eyes shot to Reaver's grey ones that lit up with amuse. "She was undead, rather." A deep chuckle came to him. "Your gravekeeper finally told me his secret. At gunpoint, of course. He told me about your help. And the machine." Long fingers threaded Sparrow's own. "And here I am."
Here he was. If what he said about Lady Grey was true, then… That meant that Reaver was just as undead as Lady Grey. Truly immortal. And without the hassle of sacrificing humans to Shadow Court. In that perspective, Sparrow understood now why Reaver wanted to go through with this procedure. He could leave and not return to Shadow Court for years. Forever, even.
"You see, I've grown weary of Shadow Court." The fingers in his grip twitched at the mention of the court. "Too many rules." A sudden bite on his collarbone shocked Sparrow and he gasped at the mix of hot and cold on his flesh. With a smirk, Reaver leaned down to lick a trail up Sparrow's chest to his throat all the way to his ear where he tugged the lobe with his teeth. Where skin met skin, it was cold as ice but the fire that raked Sparrow's skin from that mouth burned him. "Now, I am truly undead," he whispered. "Free of the nightmares that plague me. I can now dream of you. And of this."
The easy smile came to his lips as Reaver pressed cold kisses onto his cheek and rubbed his body against Sparrow's almost lazily but it woke the longing that lay dormant within him. A choked sound escaped his throat at the feelings the contact induced. Unchecked desire. Longing. Familiarity. Reaver tipped his chin up to capture his lips in a kiss, drinking deep till their mouths went slack against each other, velvet wetness entwined in a maddening dance. There was no taste of wine or anything else. Just pure Reaver in that kiss. Just him and his essence. Sparrow had never forgotten this taste as he swallowed, causing tremors all over his flesh as his body awoke to the lover it had always craved. Reminding himself that he was presently unbound, Sparrow slid his palms up the cool body currently pressed against him. He relished the permission to touch; it was not often granted to him. The skin twitched with breath with each caress of a muscle, every scrape of their tongues, every flick of a finger on a hardened nipple. Sparrow swallowed every gasp that spilled from the other's lips. As Reaver swiftly untied the knots in his nightshirt, Sparrow felt himself get numb from the cold moving over his exposed skin. He nudged their lips apart to inhale. He was shivering like a fever had taken over and he opened his eyes to see piercing grey ones stare at him almost curiously.
"I wondered how she fell in love," Reaver sighed as he untied the knot in Sparrow's hair, plunging hands into the dark locks. For a moment, Sparrow thought he was going to be tied when Reaver grasped his wrists, but the pirate pulled the hands onto his cold skin, encouraging him to touch as he continued placing kisses over Sparrow's throat. Spurts of fire shot straight down his back at the teasing pecks on his skin. This was madness. Rough hands pushed off the shirt he wore and pressed him against the table. Faintly, Sparrow felt the bites on his chest as the sinful mouth travelled lower, down his navel to his abdomen. Heat raked his flesh that was just turning numb from continuous coldness. Long fingers tugged at his pants now. Sparrow lifted his hips and Reaver pulled the pants off him in one swift motion. There was open admiration in his eyes as Reaver stared at him. He parted his lips as though to speak but he kissed Sparrow instead, stealing his breath and consuming with so much passion. Twice, teeth grazed his lower lip but did not break the skin.
"She really loved him. Impossible as it seemed, it happened." Something changed in the air then. Something dark. Sparrow felt the tug of unease somewhere in his navel. There was this nagging feeling in the back of his mind that warned him that he was slowly walking into a trap. The same sinful kisses travelled up his throat. "You do know about it, I presume." Sparrow averted his eyes to the resurrection machine, trying to avoid the pirate's gaze. Reaver forced Sparrow to face him, rubbing his thumb over Sparrow's lips. The touch chilled the swollen flesh. "It turns out the cretin gave her a love potion," Reaver murmured on his lips.
"Reava…"
"Was it in the machine when you resurrected me?"
"Rea-" Sparrow started only to be cut off with a bruising kiss that was more like the pirate than the gentle kisses they just shared. The grip on his chin tightened as the pirate repeated the question. Sparrow fell silent at the way Reaver was staring at him.
"I see now where I have failed to break you, love."
