For the lovely brilliantrosetyler, who requested s) music: worse than the fear it's the lie you told a thousand times before -Hard to Say, The Used. Thank you dear, hope you enjoy! :)
Summary: On the way back from the Locker Jack has a bone to pick with his Charming Murderess. Sparrabeth.
Words: 1400
The Lies You Told
He wished that he could hate her.
That would have made this whole mess a whole lot simpler.
Any man even partially in his right mind would have, of course. She'd killed him. With a kiss. Worse than that, though…she'd done it without remorse.
I'm not sorry.
Her words had echoed through his ever-reeling mind in the Locker, and now that they were leaving that personal Hell they still would not stop. They were eating him alive.
All he wanted was a little peace, but it seemed that was not on the menu with his Murderess around.
He wished he could hate her, but when they'd found ol' Weatherby floating past in his little dinghy, caught between death and the next world, all he'd wanted to do was take her in his arms and comfort her.
What kind of a farcical joke was this? Somewhere on some mountain some god was laughing his arse off, no doubt.
Jack was determined to reach some solution. He did not survive the Kraken and escape the Locker just to be driven to wits end by some insufferable baggage like Elizabeth Swann. Getting her alone proved a chore, for despite their seeming estrangement the Whelp hovered incessantly. But when she took the late watch up in the crow's nest Jack knew his opportunity knocked.
Silently he climbed the ratlines, a good trick when babying a bottle of surprisingly good rum in one hand. Like a shadow he hefted himself over the edge of the bucket, landing with barely a sound. Elizabeth was staring off into the starry distance, and did not even notice him at first.
"Some watch you are."
His Murderess jumped, turning to face him with wide dark eyes. "Jack?" she hissed.
"In the flesh."
He pulled the cork of his rum, and offered her first swig. "Come to poison me?" she asked, eyeing the bottle dubiously.
"Ha! A waste of good rum that would be." Jack took a long pull as though to demonstrate his point, and offered it again. This time she accepted the proffered bottle, and took a long draw. Elizabeth winced as the vile drink slid down her throat, but did not sputter.
"Then why are you here?" she dared ask, pulling her coat closer around her. It was a bit chilly up in the shrouds, and yet perhaps not the way it should have been. Nature did not behave in the usual way here between worlds. The waters below were so black it was almost as though they sailed upon a velvety sea of stars.
"We have a bone to pick, you and I."
A sad smile curled her lips, and she sighed a little as she sat back in the bucket. "I imagine we have several, Captain Sparrow."
He'd been about to launch into a well-rehearsed tirade, but that smile gave him pause. When his eyes met hers it was as though something tugged at a string wrapped around his heart. Deucedly uncomfortable, that, and yet…
Blast.
Bollocks, damnation, and bugger it all.
He forgot what he was going to say, and so she beat him to it. "I suppose you would like an apology."
Jack's mouth twisted in thought, an expression that soon resembled a grimace. "That might be nice, if it were sincere."
"Indeed. I wouldn't mind one either, truth be told." She fixed him with a gimlet stare, and Jack felt that indignant fire return within him.
"For what, pray tell? Saving you?"
Elizabeth laughed, a short sharp sound that held no joy. "I never would have been in danger in the first place if it weren't for you and your scheming."
Jack narrowed his eyes. "Is that what you tell yourself so that you can sleep at night?"
The fact of the matter was that she didn't really sleep much at all anymore, and she thanked the endless night in this strange place for hiding the dark circles that must have shown under her eyes. In answer she simply shrugged, which only served to infuriate Jack more.
"To be clear, I am the one who was eaten by a Kraken, after you chained me to the mast of me own ship, even though I had already returned to give the rest of you a fighting chance at escape. As though that were not insulting enough, you had to ruin a moderately pleasant way to go with your little parting lie, Miss I'm Not Sorry."
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes in Jack's direction, even if her insides felt as though they were tied up in knots. "Who says it was a lie?" she asked coolly, and Jack narrowly avoided the temptation to reach out and shake her.
"I say," he insisted stubbornly.
Heat entered her tone, and her words held the edge of a well-honed dagger as she retorted, "I don't know why. I was furious and confused and more afraid than I have ever been in my life. When I looked out across the water and saw you rowing away…" She shook her head, unable to articulate the emotions associated with the memory.
Jack looked down at his bottle of rum, frowning. That hadn't been his proudest moment, truth be told.
Elizabeth knew she should let it lay, but some niggling little pestilence inside would not let her, now that the floodgates were open. Perhaps she could blame the rum. "You broke my heart, you know. I had thought…that maybe you were a little bit in love with me."
Suddenly Jack could hear his pulse in his ears, his heart thundered so hard in his chest.
"I may have been," he answered, so quietly she was hardly sure she heard right. The past tense in his statement inexplicably caused her heart to fall even further, which was ridiculous for a woman who was engaged to be married.
Wasn't she?
She and Will weren't exactly on speaking terms at the moment, but neither had they broken things off. She knew he'd seen her kiss Jack, and though she tried to assure her fiancé it meant nothing, neither she nor Will were exactly convinced.
"Well, I'm sure you're cured of it now," she mused sadly, looking out over the water, anywhere but to his eyes. Those soulful black eyes that told so much, even when his mouth spouted the most infuriating nonsense.
Jack too was reluctant to meet her gaze as he answered, "Perhaps not."
Elizabeth's head whipped in his direction, finding him already beating a swift retreat over the side of the crow's nest. "Jack, wait!" On instinct she reached out to grab his wrist, and with her fingers wrapped around him she could feel the tension humming down his arm.
This was not how he'd intended this conversation to go!
He tugged on his arm, not too hard, considering their precarious position.
"Jack, please," she begged again, though uncertain what exactly for. It was just…she'd fought so god damned hard to get him back, and now it didn't seem fair that he would leave so soon.
"Let go, love."
Love.
He had not called her that since their fateful rendezvous with the Kraken. It had been Miss Swann this and Charming Murderess that since they snatched him from the Locker.
"I don't want to," she admitted openly. It was surprisingly freeing to say exactly what was on her mind, though she had a feeling she was digging herself a rather deep hole in the process.
"You should."
She'd never been very good at doing that which she should.
She dared to meet his eyes now, and in them she was lost. In his eyes, she saw it all. Slowly she reached up with her other hand, as though dealing with a highly skittish animal on the brink of bolting. When her fingers touched his cheek a sigh escaped Jack he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "I'm sorry."
He didn't say it back.
His folly ran far worse, but not a thing in the world could have stopped him. He reached up to slide fingers into her hair, and pulled her into a kiss. It was everything their first was not.
Gentle.
Sweet.
Apologetic.
When at last he drew back for possibly the first time in his life Jack had nothing to say. He fled down the ratlines, and Elizabeth watched him go over the side of the bucket, his dark form diminishing into a tiny figure in the shadows of the ship below.
Elizabeth slumped against the railing, breathing heavily, her heart and mind racing. She'd always been told she would get into trouble telling lies, but it seemed the truth got her into far more trouble.