Fathoms Below: Captain Jack Sparrow

Chapter 12: So what did that mean?

A loud bang woke me with a fright in the middle of the night. I jumped up in bed and squinted through the darkness, my eyes not adjusting well to the dark room.
A groan coming from the far corner shocked me until a familiar voice followed soon after.

"Scurvy-ridden, incompetent, belligerent bilge rats!" he grumbled under his breathe, just loud enough for me to make out his words in the quiet cabin.

"Jack?" I rasped out, still confused. My eyes were slowly adjusting to the figure in the corner who stood kicking a large mass on the floor. He looked up at me quickly and I could finally make out his face in the moonlight.

"Lily," his voice was raspy but sounded somewhat apologetic.
"What's wrong Jack?"
"Swines- buggering hammock, no good for no man." He grumbled, clearly quite annoyed. My eyes had adjusted now and I could see the off-white mass gathered on the floor was Jack's hammock. I was guessing it had fallen down whilst he was asleep, taking him down also.

He tried attempting to hook it back on to the window hook but it was no use. "That's it," he mumbled, walking quickly over to the door. I knew he would go barging into the crews quarters, ready to pick a fight, or worse, with Pintel and Ragetti and that was the last thing I wanted at this hour.
"Jack, wait!" I pleaded, my mind foggy from sleep. "Just sleep in here tonight."
The words had already left my mouth before I could process them. His head whipped round in surprise.
"Not like that!" I was sure I was blushing now, "no funny business or anything, just come lay down, it's late and everyone's tired. I'll move over."
It took a few moments before he moved, clearly unsure of himself, probably just as unsure of the situation as I was.
He took off his blue waistcoat, leaving him in his white shirt and trousers.
I turned to look for another pillow but couldn't see one. If he had given me his bed, the least I could do was give him the pillow. I moved the pillow onto his side as he lay in the bed.
"Have it love," he said, motioning to the pillow. I shook my head, "no Jack it's fine."
I laid down, flat without a pillow, but it was still comfier than a hammock or god forbid the wooden floor.
"C'mere," Jack whispered, when I looked over at him I saw him lift his arm and place it under his head. I didn't move, I just kept looking at him.
I felt his arm reach up and grab me, pulling me down by my waist so that my head was on his outstretched bicep.
"Knew you'd come around to my way of thinking," he mumbled sleepily and I knew he would have the trademark smirk playing on his lips.
I wanted to protest, but I was finally comfy and so, so sleepy. His hand never left my waist where he had grabbed me and I also made no effort to remove it, much too tired to protest his actions; it actually felt quite nice. My eyes grew heavy again and within minutes I was fast asleep.

—-
When I woke up the next morning, I was hot. Boiling hot. I opened my eyes, squinting slightly as the sun shone through the glass windows, illuminating the full breadth of the cabin. I frowned, seeing a lump of material on the floor in the corner, which is when the memory of last night replayed itself in my mind.

My eyes ventured down slowly, almost comically, as I began to notice the reason for my overheating.
Jack.
He lay beneath me, his arm still stretched out acting as my pillow, with his other arm tucked tightly across me over the blankets, anchoring my body to his.
Similarly to how we had woken up on the island, my hand lay on his chest and I must have snuggled closer in the night as my head now lay on the crest of his shoulder.
I pushed myself up timidly, careful not to wake him as I lay looking at his face for a moment. His features were so soft, so relaxed in his sleep. The black Kohl he wore around his eyes had faded slightly, creasing where his eyelids folded. Unlike at the beach, he wasn't mumbling this time.
I looked at his chest and watched as his tanned torso expanded with each breathe, the rhythmic motions of his shallow breathing soothing me.

I knew I should move, surely it wasn't proper, but I just couldn't bring myself to leave the comfy bed, or worse, risk waking him.

I lay there a while longer, thinking of how I had come to respect the man, care for the man even. I'd tried pushing the feelings away for so long but found them to be inescapable, at least inside my own head- Jack didn't need to know them.
Jack liked to flirt, that much was clear, but did he have any real conviction behind the teasing? And the touches! At first it had been exhausting, trying to push him off each time he would throw his arm around me, or grab my waist, knowing it was neither decent nor proper. But here I was, part of the crew of the black pearl under the captaincy of Jack Sparrow- I was hardly what you would consider a lady anymore, although I was never sure I was one to begin with.

I pondered this a little while longer, thinking about what Elizabeth had said that day on the island. Maybe he was different with me? I had never once seen him touch Elizabeth, or even talk to her in the way he did me, he never called her love (or anyone else for that matter). And the forehead kiss in the brig of the black pearl, did that mean something?

I had witnessed the two women in Tortuga slap him when they laid eyes on him, meaning he was 'familiar' with him. So he clearly had been with women before and judging by the slaps, he didn't particularly treat them well.
I sighed, not wanting to think about this anymore.

Climbing back up from my mental rabbit hole, I attempted to pry Jack's hand from around my waist but it was useless, he just pulled me closer, his full hand now splayed across my ribs as he held me to him.

"Morning darlin," Jack said with a deep gravel in his voice.
"Jack, get off me," I urged quietly, playfully trying to wriggle out of his grasp.
"Can't do that I'm afraid love, much too comfy," he replied arrogantly, a knowing smirk plastered on his face. I huffed, finding the situation a little intense considering my thoughts only a moment ago. "Maybe I should claim yer as me own and force yer to pay a ransom to acquire your movement back eh?" He teased. My breathe caught in my throat at hearing his words. I knew what he meant, but the connotations of the words didn't get lost on me. I decided to play along for the moment.

Jack was like a Chinese finger trap most of the time, you had to carry on playing, delve a little further and accept your fate before you were able to pry yourself away.

"And what might this ransom be?" I asked teasing him, looking up at his face with a small smile. I had noticed that whenever I seemed to tease him with this voice, his eyes would widen and his usually cocky demeanour would drop slightly, usually walking off as if he'd been caught out.

His eyes remained closed, but I saw them twitch.
"Just a small token of donation, a trifle you might say," he mumbled. When I didn't reply, he opened one eye to check I was watching before closing it quickly. Suddenly his lips pouted, puckering up for a kiss.
I shoved him with the elbow closest to him and smiled at his ridiculousness as he opened his eyes, wiping away the pout and turning it to a smile.
"That's what I wanted to see," he said looking at me, his eyes flickering down to my smile. A lock of hair had fallen just in front of my ear and without hesitation, Jack reached out with his free hand and pushed it behind my ear. It took me a moment to realise what had just happened and I instantly cursed myself once I saw Jack's reaction.

I felt his finger brush my cheekbone, where I knew there to be the semblance of a bruise that had been forming. He frowned for a moment, looking at the blue and yellow tones plaguing my milky skin; clearly he hadn't noticed the mark before.

"How did you get that?" He asked, his tone of voice reminding me of the first day I met him when he noticed the golden coin around Elizabeth's neck, his question very similar.
I swallowed, not really wanting to answer but also not wanting to lie. I looked down, attempting to brush it off and get out of bed but Jack's arm still held me tight to him.
"Lily," his tone was commanding and firm.

"Norrington," I sighed. Instantly, Jack seemed to tense up, his grip tightening on me, before releasing me completely, throwing himself out of bed.

"He laid his hands on you?" Jack accused, his tone flat and his voice scarily low. I nodded, not really wanting to have this conversation.

"Jack it's nothing. I-" I began to say but it was too late, he was furious. He was halfway through putting on his blue waistcoat but stopped dressing as he heard my answer.

"Lily, no man touches you. And if anyone so much as breathes in your direction, you tell me straight away, savvy?" He said with a sternness I'd never seen in him, at least not with me. He didn't wait for my answer before continuing to dress, now sheathed in his coat and effects. I wanted to snark at him, calling him out for being the one that touched me all the time but in his current mood I was a little afraid, and also deep down I really didn't want him to stop the touching.
"Aye Captain," I said in a small voice, still looking down at the blankets, picking gently with my finger.
"It's Jack to you love, always has been."
I looked up at him but he had already walked off and onto the deck, the door banging shut with a resounding slam.

I sat there for another moment, still in bed, thinking about the turn of events. So what did that mean?