Title: Leaving and Staying (1/1)
Fandom: Pirates of the Carribean (my first PotC fic!!!)
Summary: Their relationship was based on his inability to stay and her inability to leave. Neither was capable of budging, so they met each other halfway. In between leaving and staying.
Rating: PG-13
Pairings/Characters: Jack/Elizabeth, slight Will/Elizabeth because it's canon
Length: 3,300 words
Genres: romance, angst
Spoilers: major spoilers for AWE, since it's set in that giant gap of time while the credits were playing
A/N: Well, I've been formulating this since the first time I watched AWE, which was on opening night... Heh. I'm really hesitant about writing for new fandoms, even though I've written over a hundred fics in at least a dozen fandoms. I'm just weird like that.Oh, and there's also an alternate version of this fic that's a lot briefer and also has less Sparrabeth, more Willabeth angst. If you're a bigger fan of Willabeth, I'd suggest you go read "In Absentia". :)

Leaving and Staying

Nine years and three-hundred sixty-four days.

An awful long time for Elizabeth Swann Turner to get lonely on an island so far detached from everyone and everything. The first week without her new husband was the worst. Every day she could scarcely think of anything but her the emptiness in her heart left by the departures of her father, James Norrington, and most recently Will.

By the eighth day, the solitude was eating her from the inside out. She was starved for any sort of human contact to distract her. Any sort of touch that anyone could give her to fill the emptiness.

On the ninth day, as fate would have it, a terrible storm washed up a small dinghy with a certain familiar pirate aboard.

At that point, she would've gladly welcomed anyone to her island and the home she had begun to build there. The fact that it was Jack Sparrow was only a tacked-on bonus that she gladly accepted.

While staring through the pouring sheets of rain, she spotted his form on the beach, trying to haul his dinghy the rest of the way out of the water. Elizabeth immediately bounded down the beach to him. She helped him drag his boat up the beach to a safe distance from the turbulent ocean, then launched herself at and hugged him.

He blinked at her for a moment before returning the embrace.

She smelt the rum on his breath and figured that it was probably part of the reason he'd been blown ashore. When she pulled him through the wind and rain to her little cabin, he stumbled and she knew that if there were such a thing as too much rum for Jack Sparrow, he'd had it.

Once in the cabin, though, she kissed him and all drunkenness was gone from his eyes. He was startled sober.

Her marriage vows were still so fresh in her mind, her promises to remain true to Will, but she was so ravenous for any form of love, she let herself break them. She let herself step well over boundaries into places she never would've thought she could go.

She knew that first morning after that what she had done was wrong, terribly wrong, but she couldn't stop. The guilt always nibbled at the back of her mind, but for four more days, she broke her promises to Will, with Jack more than willing to help each time, even when he was sober.

In those four days, Elizabeth felt at once more lonely and more loved than she ever had before. She held on to the love, fearing that when it was gone, the loneliness would devour her.

In spite of that, Elizabeth couldn't dare ask Jack to stay. Despite all of his offers, she couldn't go with him when he left, either. Some part of her heart, still bound to Will even after all she'd done, wouldn't even let her consider the thought. If she couldn't stay so true to Will, she could at least pretend she did.

So Jack Sparrow went back to sailing the sea in search of treasure—the Fountain of Youth this time, he claimed—and Elizabeth sadly watched him set sail in his patched little dinghy four days after he first washed up in it.

The nights that followed his departure seemed even lonelier than the ones before his arrival. Now she had lost two lovers instead of one. Both were sailing out on the open seas, taking Elizabeth's heart out there with them. She wished she'd accepted Jack's offer, even though she knew she couldn't have.

It wasn't long after Jack left that Elizabeth discovered she was pregnant. Knowing that there was a child growing in her made her much less lonely, but some nights, the little reminder one of her lovers had left behind didn't help at all.

The baby's name was also a burden that nagged at her mind. When she first discovered she was pregnant, she'd immediately resolved to name the child after her father. But every time she whispered "Weatherby" to her unborn child, memories of her father came rolling back to her in waves that drowned her in sorrow. Finally, she took to simply calling the child "Bee." It hurt far less.

The time passed slowly. Elizabeth knew that Will wouldn't return for years yet, but she wondered about Jack. She didn't know when he would return, or even if he would.

But nine months after he left, Jack did indeed turn up again; empty-handed, but just in time to help deliver Elizabeth's child. He stayed a few days after the baby's birth, and hesitantly asked only once if the child was his. Elizabeth admitted to him that she honestly didn't know, but given the child's features, she had a good guess.

She saw in his eyes that it was too much for him to bear, and when the baby's cries awoke her the next morning, she found him gone.

Again, she was left wondering if and when he would return. She didn't have much time to dwell on the matter, though, as most of her time and effort was put into tending to her newborn. Still, she wondered about Jack.

Her perpetual thoughts of him brought her, at some point, to name the child after Jack. John Weatherby, she amended the name. She swore to still call him Bee, though, never John and certainly never Jack. And she would never to mention the child's full name to Jack either. She knew that would certainly be too much for him.

Six months after he left, she awoke in the middle of the night to startlingly find Jack asleep in her rocking chair. Even in slumber, he was slowly rocking the chair back and forth with the sleeping baby held protectively yet caressingly against his chest.

Though Elizabeth wanted to wake Jack and ask him half a dozen questions, she couldn't bring herself to disturb him or Bee. Instead, she laid on her side and watched them sleep until she fell back into slumber herself.

She awoke the next morning before Jack did, and laid there again, watching him. He awakened to find her staring and smiling at him. He stood quickly and laid the baby back in the crib, murmuring some excuse about how he'd accidentally woken the child up when he came in the night before.

Though he shrugged the whole thing off, Elizabeth could never forget the sight of him swaying back and forth with the baby curled against his chest.

She asked him about what had been through in the six months since he had left, and he recanted stories of the treasures he had searched for, the treasures he had found, and the adventures he had been on. She figured most were exaggerations—she expected no less from Jack Sparrow—but she welcomed the stories nonetheless.

They spoke of nothing of substance—no talk about how Elizabeth was holding up, no words about when Jack would leave, no discussion about Will. Only of Jack's adventures, the home Elizabeth had built on the island, how Bee was growing.

After Jack had been there a week, Bee exhibited one of his new developments. Speaking softly to her son as she held him in the crook of her arm, Elizabeth was encouraging him to eat when he giggled and murmured his first word: mama. He must've sensed Elizabeth's delight at his first word as he repeated it over and over again.

Jack too had been amused by the child as he walked over and smiled down at Bee. He tickled Bee's side with a finger, muttering about how they were never going to get him to shut up now.

The child reached out towards Jack, grabbing his finger, and uttered his second word.

Dada.

At the single word, the smile on Jack's face instantly evaporated and his expression darkened as he pulled away.

For Jack's sake, Elizabeth quickly shushed the baby and went on feeding him, then rocking him to sleep. Jack sat silently in the corner, watching them with a dark, brooding expression on his face.

Elizabeth wasn't at all surprised when she awoke the next morning to find him gone.

The next time he came, Bee was beginning to walk. Elizabeth tried to keep her son quiet, fearing that he would again cause Jack to leave. Despite her efforts, though, the child tirelessly referred to Jack as dada.

That night, Elizabeth resignedly went to sleep, all but knowing that when she awoke the next morning, it would be just her and Bee again.

But then she actually woke up the next morning to find Jack still beside her, his arm thrown possessively across her mid-section. Her heart did flips of joy, but she forced it to still. Tomorrow, he'd leave. She knew he would.

She told herself that every morning for two weeks, but it didn't come to pass. He stayed no matter how many times Bee called him dada.

The fourteenth day of Jack's visit was Bee's first birthday, and the three of them had a little party. Elizabeth made a cake, or the nearest she could get to it with what meager ingredients she had, and let the baby have an unaided go at his own slice of it. Grabbing two fistfuls of cake, Bee immediately hit both Jack and Elizabeth square in their faces with it. All three of them laughed themselves senseless at that.

After Elizabeth cleaned up the mess and Bee, she presented the baby with his birthday presents: toys made from shells and rocks and various other things she'd found on the island. And Jack sat his hat on Bee's head like a special party hat. It was far too big for the baby and it flopped around on his head, but he giggled excitedly at his new treasure. Jack's attempts to take it back were harshly opposed and completely futile.

After Bee wore himself to sleep, Elizabeth laid him in the crib and slowly reclaimed Jack's hat. She proudly presented the hat back to Jack.

As she finished cleaning things up, Jack stared at the hat and brushed at the worn leather. Then quietly he told Elizabeth that he thought she was doing a wonderful job raising Bee. In return, she laid a hand on his shoulder and confessed to him that he was more of a help than he realized. They shared a smile.

When she fell sleep that night in Jack's arms, Elizabeth let herself hope that he would be there in the morning. He'd been there for two weeks when she was sure he would leave. Maybe he would stay a while longer.

The next morning, though, when she rolled over, expecting him to be there, he wasn't. With her hope dashed, Elizabeth was lonely once again. That day was harder to get through than most, and she silently berated herself for that slip in judgment. She was only going to cost herself more grief.

Only a month and a half later, Jack returned again. This time, he brought a gifts. Dresses for Elizabeth, clothes for Bee, plenty of foodstuffs, random odds and ends that Elizabeth could use around the house… And, most importantly, a late birthday present for Bee. It was a fist-sized model of a ship, carved from a block of wood and painted pure black like the Pearl.

It was all leftover plunder, according to Jack. Things that the crew had no want or use for, or things they had overflow of (like the food). Except for the mini Black Pearl, of course, which he'd had made especially for Bee. (When Elizabeth asked about the real Pearl, Jack grumbled that he hadn't quite regained it from Barbossa yet but that he was formulating plans… again.)

Elizabeth told him she couldn't thank him enough for all of the gifts. He replied it was a good thing he wasn't going to accept thanks.

The second night of this visit, he surprised her by taking her in his arms, brushing a kiss across her forehead and whispering in her ear, "I'm leaving tomorrow, love." It was the first time he'd ever warned her that he was going to leave.

Before she could stop herself, she'd whispered to him, "Stay."

As he shook his head, his eyes fell closed. They opened again in the direction of the ocean and she saw the longing there. It was then that she finally realized that he could never truly stay. Just as the sea still whispered to her heart sometimes, begging her to sail, it beckoned to Jack at the core of his being. He had to answer its call just as much as he had to breathe.

Elizabeth slept terribly that night and awoke before the dawn, while Jack was still preparing to leave. He walked over to the bed where she laid and took her hand. He kissed her fingertips, then her cheek. And he did another thing he'd never done before: he promised he would be back. He didn't say when, but he did promise to return.

That was a hope Elizabeth let herself have: that he would return. She kept that hope with her every day over the eight and a half months it took for that to happen.

Instead of coming in with the dawn or like a thief in the night, this time he waltzed through the door in the late afternoon, when the sun was beginning to edge towards the horizon. Little Bee squealed with delight and rushed to attach himself to dada's leg. Elizabeth expected Jack to just detach Bee and set him off to the side with a pat on the head, but instead Jack swept the child up to rest on his hip. He then waltzed across the room to peck Elizabeth's cheek and mutter a cheery "'Afternoon, love," in her ear.

Raising an eyebrow, she commented on his blatant liveliness. Jack simply shrugged and she didn't pursue the matter, but instead asked after his adventures since his last visit. He recapped them to Elizabeth and Bee over dinner.

When dinner was finished and Elizabeth stood to clean everything up, Jack stopped her and said he'd do the dishes, she needn't have to.

She sat obediently back down, wondering who in the world this person cleaning up her dishes was and what they'd done with her Jack Sparrow. She didn't complain, though—who would complain about not having to do dishes?—but she did wonder if he had some sort of ultimatum and if she should be afraid of it. She couldn't figure anything out, though, so she let the thought drift mindlessly away.

It was she was laying Bee down to sleep that it suddenly hit her that today wasn't just another day.

Today was, in fact, her second wedding anniversary to Will.

She clamped a hand over her mouth to keep in a short, startled sob that she knew would wake her son. Keeping that hand firmly in place, she hurried out of his room and closed the door behind her.

Jack was waiting for her in the main room with a sympathetic look. She realized then that he knew and had known what today was. That was his reason for being so cheery and nice—he'd wanted to brighten her day, assuming she would be having a difficult one.

He'd known what today was, but she hadn't.

The thought baffled Elizabeth. How had she forgotten her own wedding anniversary? Even with Will gone, she somehow felt as though she should remember. Yes, granted, she'd also forgotten her anniversary last year, but then she'd been dealing with a newborn and hadn't known one day from the next. Now, on the other hand, she had no excuse.

Jack opened his arms to her, and she fell into them sobbing. Not because she felt guilty for having forgotten, but because she didn't. She didn't know how long she cried, but the next thing she remembered was Jack guiding her to the bed and whispering that she ought to get some sleep. She'd nodded but told him she would only go to sleep if he promised to be there in the morning.

His nod was the last thing she saw before going to sleep.

She awoke early the next morning and opened her eyes not to find Jack in her bed as she expected. Sighing, she at first assumed that he'd broken his promise and left again. But when she rolled over, she found Jack asleep in the old chair that sat against the opposite wall of the room.

Smiling faintly, Elizabeth quietly slipped out of bed and went to go make breakfast. When she was halfway done, Jack came out of the bedroom stretching and mumbling something about never sleeping in that chair again.

Smirking, Elizabeth murmured that there had been no need for him to sleep in the chair in the first place.

That night, he certainly didn't sleep in the chair.

When she pulled him close that night, he backed away from her initial kiss. He quietly asked if he was her consolation, her replacement for her husband who wasn't there. In return, she whispered to him what was honestly written on her heart.

He could never be a consolation prize to her.

The next time she leaned towards him, he met her halfway.

When Elizabeth rolled over early the next morning and reached for him, she found her bed empty. Thinking that maybe he'd already woken, pulled a blanket around herself and searched the cabin for him.

Surely, she thought, he couldn't have left. Last time, he'd warned her before leaving. He would've told her this time if he was going to leave.

But she didn't find him anywhere in the cabin.

Leaning against a wall, she slowly slid down to the floor with the blanket pooling around her form. She sat there numbly for hours until the sun had fully risen, wondering why he hadn't given her a warning this time. And, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the wall behind her, she wondered if she would ever get used to this.

-

And she continued to wonder that for over eight more years. After each stay of a few days at the least to two weeks at the most, when he'd leave, the exact same thought would cross her mind again. Then time would pass and Bee would ask when daddy would be home. Sometimes it was only a month; sometimes it was seven or eight.

Even with the haphazard "schedule" he kept up, he never once missed one of Bee's birthdays, bringing some fantastic gift that the child loved for years to come.

Jack's love for Elizabeth and Bee never overcame his love for the sea, though. He always left, never stayed. But his love for the sea never overcame his love for Elizabeth and Bee either. He always returned.

On some nights, he would whisper to Elizabeth that he was leaving the next morning.

Most times, though, he would just vanish before the morning light.

Elizabeth never decided which was worse: knowing when he would leave and dreading his departure, or simply waking up one morning to find herself alone in her bed. Both ways left her feeling lonely, even though she learned how to bear it and hide it.

At times, she was sure that she was completely independent from him with the way she bore his leaving. At other times, she wondered how she would ever survive without him.

Their relationship was based on wanderlust and homebodiness. On his inability to stay and her inability to leave. Neither was capable of budging, so they met each other halfway. In between leaving and staying.

If you had asked her before all of this if it would work, she'd have dismissed the thought immediately. She'd have said that that wasn't a true relationship.

Now, though, she was eternally glad for this relationship. Or whatever it was that existed between his leaving and her staying.

A/N #2: Okay, I know I originally said this was a oneshot... But due to popular demand (and the very persuasive and helpful Tempo), there's going to be a part 2 that spans the next 10 years. :)

Please review. It would make me feel a lot less nervous about my first time writing PotC fic. :)