FOR YOUR EYES ONLY

39—Understanding

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

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, as always! You're all magnificent!

I truly apologize for the delay in updating, but the end of summer has been quite, quite busy. So one job, four new classes and a litter of puppies later, I've managed to squeak this chapter out. I hope it's up to par!

Thanks again for your patience. Enjoy!

Half a day passed, the majority of which Jack spent avoiding Elizabeth and she spent avoiding him, though for very different reasons.

Her avoidance came from what started out as frustration and anger with Jack's seemingly complete incapability of being honest with her, but as the hours slowly ticked by, it transformed into a dull hurt tinged with confusion. Was his dishonesty, or rather, withholding information, rooted in distrust for her? Did he not see by now that it was safe to share things with her? Or was it a feeble attempt to protect her, which seemed noble enough, but didn't make her feel any better.

Jack's turn at avoiding her came from simple observation. It didn't take a genius to determine that Elizabeth was not happy with him… and to be perfectly frank, he didn't want to have the conversation that he knew was inevitable at one point or another… so until then, he would just put it off by keeping out of her way. His reasons for not divulging everything he knew about Davy Jones he knew to be insufficient, no matter how adequate they seemed at the time, and he didn't want to see the look on her face when he explained himself.

So he purely evaded her. Wherever Elizabeth was, he found something to do on the opposite end of the ship. Even when he heard from Gibbs that she was looking for him somewhere around two o'clock in the afternoon, he found himself hiding in the cargo hold like a bloody coward until he was certain that she'd given up and moved on to something else.

Now, with the sun long vacant from the sky and an almost-full moon up above (not to mention, nearly two and a half bottles of rum consumed), he was leaning against the wall outside their cabin.

His debate with himself should have been simple enough, and likely would have been if he was Will or Norrington or anyone else… he sighed. Then again, Will or Norrington likely would have been honest with the lass to begin with. So there he stood, debating on whether or not to go in and face her or take an extra shift at the helm.

He had just decided on that extra shift and had turned away from the door when a slight, petite frame blocked him. Rosalind's dark hair fluttered with the breeze and he could barely make out her face against the darkness of the night. Her arms were crossed and a nervous grin crept onto his lips.

"You're going to lose her, you know," she said quietly.

Oh, bloody hell, he thought, releasing an irritated groan and rolling his eyes. "I see," he replied, smirking. "You're one of those keenly observant females who knows all, eh?" He really didn't feel like discussing his relationship with Elizabeth with this fair skinned, balsy female. Not now, not ever.

"Psychic, no," she assured him, smiling faintly, confidently. "But observant, yes. Whether you like it or not."

Jack rolled his eyes again and brushed past her, but her hand shot out and took hold of his arm gently before he could get anywhere.

"I know I annoy you," she said quickly, "and normally I would keep my place and stay out of it. But I care about Elizabeth and I know how much she loves you. And whether you're ready to admit it or not, I know you love her."

He breathed in sharply through his nose. If he wasn't uncomfortable and fidgety before, he certainly was now. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, then back again before she took in a deep breath and continued.

"I come to you to spare you both heartache."

"You're awfully convinced of it," Jack said, sighing.

"She assured me of it."

That piqued Jack's interest. He tilted his head back, arching an eyebrow. "How so?"

"She told me…" Rosalind hesitated. Jack's lips were pursed and he tapped his foot quickly on the deck of the ship, seeming impatient. But his eyes… his eyes had grown large and uncertain, almost doe-like. She hadn't known him long enough to determine his true emotions, and he seemed like the kind of man whose feelings were always partially obscured by pride or maybe even a need for self-protection. She did know, however, that if he was truly aware of how much his eyes were giving away, they would have been narrowed into slits or rolling at her already.

"She told you…?" Jack prodded, his hands waving in little circles as if to lead her on.

"She told me she's leaving," Rosalind sighed, wanting to grimace at the instant hurt on this supposedly self-confident, arrogant man. She knew his weakness, then, right away… Elizabeth clearly made him a different person.

Jack said nothing, didn't even utter a thank-you. He quickly turned on heel, slamming the cabin door behind him.

Elizabeth stood in front of the full-length mirror on the far-side of Jack's cabin. She'd been standing there for what felt like hours, just staring at herself until she didn't recognize her own face anymore.

She felt dull inside, completely numb, and likely could have stood there for several hours more when the door slamming broke her from her trance. She whirled around, hearing the stomp of his boots across the room until he stood about five feet away from her. She watched his face, tight with angry frustration, and traced his eyes as they move from her to the bed, where her few possessions sat out neatly, waiting to be packed.

"What's this, then?" he asked, finally breaking the silence, his hand gesturing towards the bed. "Yer leavin', then? That's bloody it?"

Elizabeth sighed a ragged sigh, using every last bit of strength to not cry in front of him. Her crying in front of him, she knew, would leave to a severe enough lapse in judgment that she might question her decision to go.

"Not now," she said quietly. "I'll stay until I know you're safe… until you've met with Jones and negotiated your freedom. Then you can leave me at the first port we come to."

"Like hell," he spat, quickly placing his hands on his hips.

"Excuse me?" Her eyes narrowed into slits and she crossed her arms. "You are not my keeper, nor have you ever been!"

"Perhaps not, dearie, but that doesn't mean I'm lettin' you leave." He took a few steps towards her, narrowing the gap between them by about half.

"I'm afraid, Captain Sparrow, that the decision is not yours to make," she curtly informed him. Completely unafraid and assured of herself, she crossed the remaining two and a half feet, their faces mere inches apart.

"Watch it, luv," he warned, lowering his voice, though managing to maintain a sense of sternness she wasn't used to, at least from him. "Need I remind you yer on my ship. Nat'rally that makes it my decision."

"You… you…!" She couldn't remember a time when he had been quite so infuriating. "You damn smug, cocky—"

What few inches were left between them were quickly closed when Jack's hands jutted out. One found a firm grip on her waist and the other wound into her hair, his long fingers intertwining with her long, golden locks. His lips crashed against hers, teeth scraping against teeth in an angry, passionate kiss. Her arms came up around his back, her hands grabbing onto the fabric of his jacket and gripping so tightly, her knuckles turned white.

Suddenly she realized what he was doing and she angrily pulled away from him. Before she could stop herself, a hand came up and cracked against his cheek, the slap sharply piercing the air. She watched, eyes wide, as his head shot to the side. As his fingers came up to cradle his cheek, her own came up against her tender, kiss-bruised lips.

"I likely deserved that—" he admitted, attempting to move towards her when she slapped him again, this time twice as hard as before. "Ow! Jesus bloody Christ, Lizzie!"

"Don't. Call. Me. Lizzie." She told said sharply, crossing her arms and taking a step back. "You don't get to just kiss me and expect all to be forgiven! And don't expect that your endearing little nicknames or niceties will make it better either!"

"Fine. Elizabeth." He said lowly, his eyes dark. "I'm sorry."

"Yes, well," she tucked a few stray hands of hair behind her ears and let out and angry puff of air, "you always are." She turned around and crossed her arms, walking a safe-enough distance away from him. She listened as he sighed and groaned. She angrily whirled around. "This is your life we're talking about, Jack! How do you expect me to help you if you can't be completely honest with me? How do you expect to beat Jones if you're not willing to let me in on all the information?"

"I told you before, Elizabeth, this isn't your battle." His eyes were cold and glaring. One hand rested on the butt of his pistol, the other balled in a fist at his side. "Besides. Ye know now, so what difference does it make?"

"It makes a difference to me," she told him, throwing her hands up in the air. "You think you're protecting me from all of this, but you're not! The less I know, the less able I am to defend myself… and to help you defend yourself." The expression in his eyes didn't change. "I know what you are, Jack," she whispered, taking a few steps towards him. "I know you're a pirate and I know that requires a certain… lack of honesty. And I need you to know that I'm not trying to change who you are. But pirate or not, you're a human being." She placed her hand on his chest. "This, right here… it is a relationship and it is real. And I know you have to know that, or else you would not have asked me to marry you. I'm not asking to know every detail of your past… but when it comes to this… when it comes to Davy Jones, every detail you leave out or lie to me about just conveys a lack of faith in me and my ability to help you through this. And if you have a lack of faith in me—" her voice cracked from the emotional strain and she had to take a deep breath, steadying herself before continuing. "If you have a lack of faith in me, then we have no business going on like this."

Her eyes were filled with tears now and she went to brush past him, but before she could even get a foot and a half away, his hand shot out, gently grabbing her arm.

"Lizzie—" He stopped himself, not entirely knowing what to say, which was highly unusual, for him… "You're wrong." A smirk curled onto his lips.

"Oh, Jack," a few tears escaped her eyes. She wiped them away with the back of her hands. "You so know what I wanted to hear."

"Maybe it's not what you want to hear," he said, shrugging, but keeping the grip on her arm firm. "But ye need it." He paused and stared at her, his dark eyes penetrating hers and not for the first time since knowing him, she found herself completely unable to look away, despite how much she wanted to. "Now maybe I'm not entirely honest all the time. But pirate or not, who bloody is? What you need to know is that regardless of me integrity, I trust you. I trust you with me life, which is more than I can say about anyone I've ever known, ever.

"Sometimes I say the wrong thing or simply don't say the right thing. I'm not tryin' to pretend to be good at this because I've never had it before. Frankly, I never thought I wanted it… regardless, whether I say it every day for the rest of our lives or never again, I need you here, wif' me. Don't. Go."

He tightened his grip slightly and pulled her to him until she was against his chest. "I need you," he whispered.

She gulped and stared up at him with wide, teary eyes. It wasn't the sweeping declaration of love she had been hoping for, or the one that any other girl would only find appropriate. But she knew by the firm yet gentle grip he maintained on her and the utterly serious look in his eyes that it was the best he could do, and that was perfectly good enough for her. Jack's best really meant something to her. To other girls, it might not be good enough, but to her, it was the moon.

"Now," he said, his voice a throaty whisper, a subtle smile on his face, "can I kiss you again?"

She smiled and sniffled, answering by placing a hand on the back of his neck and slowly lowering his mouth to hers.

The entirety of the night was spent in their own little world, rocking against one another until neither had the energy to go on. Only with the first appearance of the morning sun did they allow themselves any rest. Lying together, replete and satiated, their sweat-slicked bodies hooked together like a human puzzle, their much-needed understanding had been reached.

"Bootstrap is alive," Jack finally said quietly, breaking the silence.

"Beg pardon?" Elizabeth asked, pulling herself up from her place in the crook of his arm.

"William's father. Bill Turner. He's alive."

"What?" She shook her head. "I don't understand…"

"Alive as the poor soul can be, I s'pose," Jack sighed, looking away from her momentarily. "Serves as Jones' henchman. He came to me the night I got this," he said, looking down at the black welt on his hand.

Elizabeth looked away, pondering the severity of what Jack was telling her. "Will deserves to know," she whispered.

"He certainly does… an' he will, eventually." He sighed again. "I just wanted to tell you. I should've sooner. M'sorry."

Elizabeth smiled at him before leaning down, kissing his chest softly. She nestled back into his arm, a familiar sense of security and belonging washing over her. "Thank you for telling me."

His arm wrapped around her back and waist. His you're welcome came in the form of a kiss, placed gently atop her head. He laid like that, an arm around his girl, lightly stroking her lower back until her steady breathing assured him she had drifted off.

Within moments, sleep found him as well.

A/N: Thanks for reading, now go review! I hope you all liked it!