FOR YOUR EYES ONLY

32—Premonition

DISCLAIMER: Jack'n'Lizzie etc. do not belong to me. I make no money from the writing of this fan fiction.

A/N: Sorry for the hopelessly infrequent updates! I'm trying to work my way through this part in the PotC trilogy as quickly as possible, but it's proving to be more difficult than I anticipated. DMC has always been my least favorite (and that's not to say I don't love it, 'cause of course I do, but…) of the three movies, and writing my way through it with my own Sparrabethy spin has been, well, a challenge.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed and everyone who voted in the poll! And thanks especially to those of you who did both! Sends virtual rum!

Anyways. On with the chapter!

It was bright. Brighter than bright, actually. When Elizabeth opened her eyes, she immediately squeezed them shut again, the sun hurt them so. Was it the sun? She wasn't entirely sure… whatever it was, it was bright. It reflected off the water surrounding the Pearl, creating a brilliant white atmosphere and the kind of warmth she typically only got from Jack, late at night, when it was just the two of them…

"Open your eyes, Lizzie." His voice, smooth and slow, was a welcome comfort against the harshness of her surroundings.

"Jack?" She did as she was told, opening her eyes and shielding them with her hand. She blinked several times and once her vision had adjusted, she saw him, looking down at her, a hand outstretched towards her.

She was, apparently, sitting on the deck of the ship, her legs tucked underneath her, her knees sore against the hard wood. She took his hand, curling her fingers around his own, and held on tight as he helped to hoist her to her feet.

"Where are we?" she asked, looking around. There was not a speck of land in sight, not another soul to be seen. It was just the two of them. No Gibbs, no Marty or Cotton…

She watched him as he released his hold on her and sauntered across the deck to the railing. He had a bottle of rum in the other hand and he tilted his head back and drank slowly before speaking to her again.

"Don't know," he finally answered, shrugging his shoulders in a slight, nonchalant manner. "Wherever it is ye go when it's all said an' done."

"You don't mean…" Elizabeth felt her breath hitch in her throat as an ominous feeling of dread made her stomach curl. "Are we… dead?"

Jack laughed. "One of us is, anyways."

She shook her head. She could feel the hot tears brimming in her eyes. "Was it the kraken?" she asked, almost hoping he wouldn't answer.

"Now, Lizzie," Jack stood upright again and made his way back to her. The rum bottle was gone. His hands first placed themselves on her neck, then moved up ever so slowly until his thumbs were caressing her cheeks. He smiled at her then leaned in, just barely brushing his lips against her own. "You'll be alright, luv. I have faith in ye."

"What??" She felt frantic now, completely out of control, which was something she decidedly did not like to feel. "Jack, I don't understand!"

"Shh."

"But—"

"Shh…" Jack leaned his forehead against hers and she could feel the warmth of his breath against her face. "No one wants this to keep goin' as much as I do. But it's comin' to an end, darlin', and some day ye'll come to terms with it. But until then, just try to be strong. For me."

There was so much she wanted to say… she wanted to beg him not to go, to tell him she loved him and that she didn't want to live without him. She wanted to tell him that he had given so much to her, changed her life in such a completely fantastic way… but the words wouldn't come. Her hands began to tremble and she reached for him, gripping the fabric of his shirt and squeezing it until her knuckles went white.

"I won't let you go," she said, her voice quiet and weak. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply through her nose, inhaling his musky, intoxicating scent.

Jack sighed and kissed her forehead before leveling his mouth with her ear. "You never have to." He placed another feather-light kiss on her temple.

Elizabeth opened her mouth at another attempt towards speech, but all that came out was a strangled sort of sob that she'd been suppressing somewhere in the back of her throat. She kept her eyes squeezed shut, not wanting to show any tears. Besides, opening her eyes would make this real. Maybe if she kept her eyes shut, she could go on pretending that this wasn't happening.

She moved to wrap her arms around his neck, to anchor herself to him, but when she did so, she found nothing. "Jack?" Her eyes flew open and the space before her had been vacated. "Jack!" She whirled around and again, found nothing. Jack was gone.

Elizabeth wasn't sure if it was the dizzying pain creeping its way through her skull or the gentle coaxing of her name that woke her up. Maybe it was a combination of the two. Either way, consciousness slowly returned to her before she had a chance to open her eyes.

There was something uncomfortable and itchy against her back and she was becoming more and more aware of a small breeze. Was she at sea? Or… her mind flooded back to more recent events… Rosalind, Will in trouble and then… She felt a dull sting on her neck, similar to a mosquito bite, and she lazily reached up to scratch at it. Being shot with what she could only assume was a tranquilizer of some kind was the last thing she could remember.

"Lizzie, come on, now…" the coaxing continued. "Wake up, dearie, we haven't much time."

"Jack?" The familiarity of his voice was of great comfort. She used a great deal of strength to open her eyes, only to be greeted by a very fuzzy, very distorted image of Jack. They were, from what she could tell, in a small hut made of twisted wood and branches. But how did they get there? How long had they been there? So many questions flashed through her mind, she didn't know which one to address first.

"Yes, darlin', it's me."

Elizabeth strained to see him and as her vision came into focus, she noticed his face. It was covered in decorative paint… was that a bug on his nose? She watched him, wide-eyed and confused, as he leaned down and helped her to sit up from what was, apparently, a bed of prickly sticks and straw.

"What's on your face?" she asked, her voice weak and not feeling like her own.

"Nothin' that won't wash off," he replied quickly, clearly in a hurry. He scooped an arm around her back. "Do ye need me to carry ye, luv?"

"No," she said, shaking her head lightly. "Just help me up." Without so much as a nod, he took hold of her hands and hoisted her off the ground.

"Come on," he said hastily, taking a firm grip on her hand and preparing to drag her off.

"Wait!" she cried, holding fast in her position. She stared at him, ignoring the puzzled look on his face as she made a point to look him in the eyes. She took a step closer and wrapped her available arm around his torso, letting her nose bury in his collar. "I had the most awful dream about you."

Jack sighed, sounding almost annoyed. "There, there," he said flatly, patting her back. "Now come on, Lizzie, we haven't a lot of time before they come back." He pulled her out of the small hut. A sharp pain stung her right between the eyes when they stepped into the sunlight and she blinked several times to let her vision adjust.

"Oh, how I've missed your sensitivity, Jack," she muttered as he pulled her along. "And who are 'they?'"

"The Pelegostos tribe," he explained. "Isla de Pelegostos was the unfortunate spit of land we happened on first. And by the way, darlin', I genuinely apologize for leavin' you on the Pearl after I promised you could come along."

"I'll be mad at you later," she huffed. "For now, I'll trust that you have a very good reason for doing so. I take it that we have more important things to worry about."

He turned around and smirked at her as they carefully made their way around more huts, all the same but unlike anything she'd ever seen before. "That's my girl, I knew there was a reason for my fondness of ye." She responded only by glaring at him.

"You certainly don't worry about taking in the scenery," she sniped, trying to keep up with him. Surrounding the village were a series of canyons and mountains, covered in the most luscious green scenery she had ever witnessed.

"Next time," he replied. "More important things, remember?"

"Would informing me as to what is going on be on the agenda of more important things?"

Jack took in a deep breath. "Do you remember the story I told ye about the flesh-eating villagers?"

"No!"

"Well, these are them, an' last time I was 'ere, I used my cunning to convince them of me sainthood an' as it turns out, they feel that I should… share the wealth, so to speak."

"Jack." Elizabeth halted in her steps, keeping her grip on his hand. "Are you trying to tell me that these people want to eat you?"

Jack looked away from her for a brief moment before looking back, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, and saying, "Pretty much." He went to pull her along again, but she stood fast.

"Can you just stop for a moment??"

"I knew you would be the death of me," he muttered, but obeyed her wishes and stood still.

"Where are the others?"

"Don't know."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Where's Rosalind?"

Jack's brows furrowed. "Last time I checked, she was in Port Royal with dear, sweet, William, but your inquisition leads me to believe otherwise."

"She's here. Or was here."

"Of course."

"She's in trouble, Jack," Elizabeth said. "Cutler Beckett has landed in Port Royal and he's arrested Will." Jack made a face and groaned audibly. "I take it you've heard of him?"

"I've had the displeasure of making his acquaintance, aye." He paused and sighed. "And Will's in trouble, eh? Fancy that. William in trouble."

"There's also a warrant for your head and mine, and Rosalind's if she doesn't comply with his wishes. But he's made allowances for our freedom if we return to Port Royale with your compass."

"Me compass?"

"Yes. Jack, what would he want with your compass?"

Jack grimaced again before taking her hand. "Let's focus on gettin' out of here and then we'll worry about my compass, alright, darlin'?"

"Some stories you haven't told me yet, hmm, Jack?" she asked as they began walking again. "Where are we headed now?"

"First to find supplies and then to find the others and then anywhere but here."

"Where are we to find supplies?" she asked.

Jack tightened his grip on her hand and quickly ducked into one of the huts, making a point to look over both shoulders before he did so. Once again, Elizabeth's eyes struggled to adjust to the change in light and she was greeted with the awful stench of what could only be rotting flesh. She looked up to see a large, machete-like weapon hanging from the ceiling of the hut, complete with blood, human hair and a small swarm of flies.

"Watch yer head, or someone else will watch it for you," Jack muttered, bending down and rummaging through the piles of goods that had clearly been traded.

"Where would they have gotten these?"

Jack continued to rummage before proclaiming a hearty AHA and tossing a small, metal canister in her direction. She flipped it over to see the emblem of the East India Trading Company, just in time to hear Jack say, "Cutler Beckett, our beloved benefactor. Taking over the Caribbean, one cannibal at a time."

"A charming man, I take it," Elizabeth replied, watching as Jack slung a rope over his shoulder.

"You've not met 'im, then." It was a statement, not a question.

"Not personally, no. But I've stories of his arrogance are as legendary as stories of your, as you put it, cunning." Jack chuckled. "My father never liked him. He always said that power in the wrong hands was as dangerous as any weapon."

"Speaking of dear Cutler directly, was he then? Smart man." Elizabeth smiled. She missed her father.

She turned around and began to rummage alongside Jack, pulling out anything that could be useful and was small enough to fit into the pockets of her breeches. "So why was I separated from the others?"

"I told them to keep an eye out for you," Jack quickly explained. "The Pelegostos, that is. I told 'em that if a fair-haired maiden of your description was found wondering around the island, to set 'er aside and I'd deal with 'er later."

"Deal with her later??"

"Big picture, Lizzie."

"Right," she replied, breathing in through her nose. "You knew I'd escape, then, hmm?"

"O'course."

"Then why bother locking me up in the first place?"

"Just wanted to keep you occupied, my dear," he retorted. "I think this'll be enough," he said, straightening himself and adjusting the rope around his shoulder. "Are ye ready?"

She took in a steady breath and nodded. "I trust you."

"Good." Again, he took her time, though this time it was without the frantic sense of urgency he'd been using before. She grinned at him and together they turned around.

However, the sight that greeted them made her gasp and she heard Jack mutter a curse under his breath, for staring back at them was the entirety of the Pelegostos tribe.

A/N: Thanks for reading, now go review!

I'll leave the poll open for a little while longer, just for anyone who hasn't voted yet and still wants to.

Thanks again! See you next time!