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That old bald cheater 1/4
Mar. 5th, 2007 11:51 pmTitle: That old bald cheater, Time. 1/4
Summary: What happens to Beckett after a battle.
Characters: Beckett, Elizabeth, Jack
Pairing: Beckabeth, Willabeth, Beckett/?
Rating: PG-13 Some Mature Themes
Disclaimer: This is totally AU. Disney owns everything and Ted and Terry are wonderful guys so please don’t sue!!! justin_barrette do not read this until you’ve seen AWE.
The sun shone so oddly bright compared to the maelstrom that had just occurred only hours before. An unnatural maelstrom, but Cutler knew what he was dealing with. He had merely underestimated it. The ship shook again as the cannons made their mark and he gripped the railing. However, he let it go quickly rather than show weakness. His head was held high when another ball whizzed past, taking the wood from beneath him. He fell and smacked hard against a beam as he slid into water. It had been a defeat as evidenced by the bodies and debris surrounding him as well as any possible rescue heading in the other direction.
“Bloody pirates,” he muttered and struggled to stay afloat. The exhaustion of battle along with a lack of sleep finally caught up to Cutler and his body wanted nothing more than to stop while his mind would not accept such fatal failure. Then, he heard flapping and his very own flag landed on him. It smothered all his attempts and he was so very tired. He took a breath to swim under it, but it was too difficult. At some point, he let out that breath and it was replaced with salty water that burned as it passed through him. His vision blurred so that there were stars under the water before everything went black.
The darkness turned out to be temporary as light began to grow and he could almost see something. He opened his eye tentatively and saw Jack Sparrow above him. This must be Hell. If he had the strength, he would have screamed. Instead, his stormy eyes widened and a cough replaced the scream, salty water coming back up the way it came and dribbling out of his mouth.
“I still say we should have left him to his fate,” Jack complained and Cutler wondered who his benefactor was…he must still be alive, “Get him to a hammock and out of my sight.” Strong arms picked him up and he fell back into darkness again. Fire woke him later. His body felt as though it was on fire except when he touched his hand to his face. His hand was like ice and he was…where was he? It was a ship and…Captain Jack Sparrow? There were images that didn’t make sense. A cool rag was placed on his forehead and he looked up to see her.
“Miss Swann?” he asked in a rasping growl. She frowned and said, “I’m a married woman now.”
“Mrs. Sparrow?”
“Mrs. Turner” she corrected sharply and turned to leave.
“Wait,” he called and started to rise, but the swaying undid him. He leaned over and lost what little was left in his stomach. There was a feminine sigh and red spread all over his face, he hadn’t used the floor for his vomit since he was a child. His eyes closed so he wouldn’t have to watch her clean his mess and he fell into an uneasy fevered state. Screams, the sounds of battle and cracking wood intermingled with conversations he hadn’t thought about in years and a baby’s cry. Occasionally, he would wake up to find Elizabeth or some random crew member looking down on him. Mercifully, it was never Jack again. Then, one day, he finally felt clearer as if he wasn’t under a fog. He had no idea where he was. Why wasn’t he in his cabin? Why did he feel so strange? He jumped to his feet to investigate and fell on the wooden floor. His legs had no interest in moving and his clothes were loose. Horribly loose so that they fell below his waist and he felt a draft. Luckily, he had fallen on his stomach. Cutler reached behind him and after two unsuccessful attempts, pulled his trousers up. However, it was too late as he heard snickering from behind him.
“Seem to have fallen out there,” an older man commented and was able to hoist him back into the hammock. A thought struck him that he should know who the man was, but nothing else came. He knew the woman next to him was Miss Swann, but not what had happened or why he was in such a state. His face was unshaven as though it had been several days and he knew this wasn’t The Endeavour.
“Where am I?” he asked in a soft, unused voice. A strange expression crossed Miss Swann’s face although the man was kind and answered, “The Black Pearl.”
The Black Pearl? Something was really wrong and he had a battle that he needed to be at, they needed him or the pirates would win.
“My ship, I should be getting back there,” he said with a spat of coughing and started to rise. He was pushed back down by the man and Elizabeth gave him another odd look as she asked in a harsh tone, “How could you not remember?”
“Elizabeth,” the other man warned and she countered by saying, “Gibbs.” Ah, so this was Mr. Gibbs…he vaguely recalled a Mr. Gibbs who worked on the Black Pearl.
“People can go a bit funny when inches from death. His memory may be the least of it,” told Gibbs as though he was accustomed to story-telling. She was unsure and looked at Cutler intently which Cutler didn’t appreciate and he didn’t like the insinuation that he was wrong in the head and body…he just couldn’t remember and what was this about death?
“I am not dead,” he corrected them and Gibbs looked almost…sympathetic. Elizabeth crossed her arms and replied, “You would have been.” Her dark eyes were angry and she stalked away. He looked at the other man for some explanation.
“She’s not the carefree child she once was,” Gibbs clarified, “She’s gained a husband and…we still recall what you can’t.”
It seemed to Cutler that Elizabeth was the broken one and he was intrigued by what could have caused it. She was nothing like the girl who had held a gun to his head last year.
“What did happen?” he questioned and hoped that he had guessed Gibbs’ talent as a story teller correctly. There was a time when he loved to hear a good tale about the far places, Calypso and Davy Jones especially when told by his lover in particular…but he couldn’t…it wasn’t worth it to remember those times, they just hurt. Still, this was a telling Cutler needed to hear.
“We won,” responded Gibbs in a way that sounded like they hadn’t. Why were they all so sad?
“Was it Jack?”
He was met by confusion although he thought what he meant was obvious.
“Her husband, is it Jack?” Cutler asked.
“No, she married young Turner,” Gibbs replied, pulled the thin blanket up on him and walked off after Elizabeth.
Sleep took him and it was night before he stumbled on deck. He resembled a drunken sailor. The stars shone above him and he looked, really looked for the first time in twenty years. They were pretty again without attachments, Cutler tried to force that night out of his mind as he looked at Orion and Sirius and Ursula Minor. Then, he noticed that he wasn’t alone. Elizabeth stood at the railing and moonlight glinted off wetness on her cheeks. It shocked him so he hesitated at what he should do; go back below or converse with her. Cutler walked over, not sure of what to say. He opened his mouth in preparation for speech and nothing came out, nothing sounded right. However, she saw him because she wiped her face with the back of her hand and muttered, “And you recollect nothing.”
“I wish…” he started, but she interrupted him, “All those deaths and you don’t feel a thing, not a single trace of remorse for all those men you sent to death…so young and inexperienced, knowing nothing of real battle.”
Once again, he was at a loss for what to say so he resorted to the only way he knew how to deal with women who were crying, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t, you have no idea what’s been done,” she spoke, “I can’t bring him back, too.” Cutler gripped the railing for support as she slipped past him, leaving him wondering what had really happened. What had he done? How badly had the fight gone? He brought a hand to his own face and felt the stubble covering it yet he felt no need to remove it. The stars had turned cruel and reminded him of who he used to be before he stepped into Joubert’s that day. He needed answers but he wasn’t ready to face the man who’d have them, alone. Instead, he staggered back to his hammock and crawled in, hoping that tomorrow would be better.
The next morning, he woke up and he remembered the day before. It was a nice feeling; that little bit of security in insane world. He was no better than a prize of war; either, he could act as such and get put into the brig or he had to fit in somehow…be like them. The thought brought a shudder to him, but he had absolutely no interest of being in a brig. He gently dropped down and tied his shirt tighter as a makeshift belt. His clothes would be something else he needed to ask about as well as his wig, the lack of which made his head feel naked. The crew began to head out and he followed after them, ignoring the ones who were eating. Just the smell alone made him nauseous yet he didn’t want to be in his hammock anymore. Cutler wished to be out there in the sunlight, he always had. Unfortunately, he was immediately spotted by Jack who sauntered over to him. He grinned so that the metal on his teeth glinted and his brown eyes were particularly mischievous. From nearby on deck, he produced a bucket that he handed to Cutler and ordered, “You can scrub my deck.” It appeared to be what the rest of the crew were doing so he grabbed the bucket and a rag. No sooner had he kneeled down than Jack leaned in close to whisper in his ear, “It’s been years since I’ve had you on your knees.” Red started to creep into his cheeks despite his not wanting it, but Elizabeth showed up then.
“Is he well enough for this sort of labour?” she asked and he was shocked to hear concern in her voice.
“It’s good for him…builds character,” Jack explained while patting Cutler’s head so he couldn’t see her as she countered sadly, “That’s what you always say.” They left before he had a chance to ask anything and he dropped the cloth in the water with a plop. Then, he took it up again and rubbed it against the wood over and over. At first, it was unbearable. His mind felt like it would explode from lack of use. He was accustomed to worrying about every port and ship under the East India Trading company and how to extend their realm as well as the latest rumour of pirates and legends that could prove to be true. Every second of his day was filled until now. Now, he only had to see to his patch of deck being wet and halfway clean. It was almost relaxing. Cutler had had his own ship…he had the sneaking suspicion that it was laying at the bottom of the sea at present which made him sad. However, he’d never done any of the work himself before. Supervision had been more his forte so it was interesting to actually attempt the work until he started coughing a few hours later and nearly passed out which he took as a sign that he needed to rest more than he thought.
Summary: What happens to Beckett after a battle.
Characters: Beckett, Elizabeth, Jack
Pairing: Beckabeth, Willabeth, Beckett/?
Rating: PG-13 Some Mature Themes
Disclaimer: This is totally AU. Disney owns everything and Ted and Terry are wonderful guys so please don’t sue!!! justin_barrette do not read this until you’ve seen AWE.
The sun shone so oddly bright compared to the maelstrom that had just occurred only hours before. An unnatural maelstrom, but Cutler knew what he was dealing with. He had merely underestimated it. The ship shook again as the cannons made their mark and he gripped the railing. However, he let it go quickly rather than show weakness. His head was held high when another ball whizzed past, taking the wood from beneath him. He fell and smacked hard against a beam as he slid into water. It had been a defeat as evidenced by the bodies and debris surrounding him as well as any possible rescue heading in the other direction.
“Bloody pirates,” he muttered and struggled to stay afloat. The exhaustion of battle along with a lack of sleep finally caught up to Cutler and his body wanted nothing more than to stop while his mind would not accept such fatal failure. Then, he heard flapping and his very own flag landed on him. It smothered all his attempts and he was so very tired. He took a breath to swim under it, but it was too difficult. At some point, he let out that breath and it was replaced with salty water that burned as it passed through him. His vision blurred so that there were stars under the water before everything went black.
The darkness turned out to be temporary as light began to grow and he could almost see something. He opened his eye tentatively and saw Jack Sparrow above him. This must be Hell. If he had the strength, he would have screamed. Instead, his stormy eyes widened and a cough replaced the scream, salty water coming back up the way it came and dribbling out of his mouth.
“I still say we should have left him to his fate,” Jack complained and Cutler wondered who his benefactor was…he must still be alive, “Get him to a hammock and out of my sight.” Strong arms picked him up and he fell back into darkness again. Fire woke him later. His body felt as though it was on fire except when he touched his hand to his face. His hand was like ice and he was…where was he? It was a ship and…Captain Jack Sparrow? There were images that didn’t make sense. A cool rag was placed on his forehead and he looked up to see her.
“Miss Swann?” he asked in a rasping growl. She frowned and said, “I’m a married woman now.”
“Mrs. Sparrow?”
“Mrs. Turner” she corrected sharply and turned to leave.
“Wait,” he called and started to rise, but the swaying undid him. He leaned over and lost what little was left in his stomach. There was a feminine sigh and red spread all over his face, he hadn’t used the floor for his vomit since he was a child. His eyes closed so he wouldn’t have to watch her clean his mess and he fell into an uneasy fevered state. Screams, the sounds of battle and cracking wood intermingled with conversations he hadn’t thought about in years and a baby’s cry. Occasionally, he would wake up to find Elizabeth or some random crew member looking down on him. Mercifully, it was never Jack again. Then, one day, he finally felt clearer as if he wasn’t under a fog. He had no idea where he was. Why wasn’t he in his cabin? Why did he feel so strange? He jumped to his feet to investigate and fell on the wooden floor. His legs had no interest in moving and his clothes were loose. Horribly loose so that they fell below his waist and he felt a draft. Luckily, he had fallen on his stomach. Cutler reached behind him and after two unsuccessful attempts, pulled his trousers up. However, it was too late as he heard snickering from behind him.
“Seem to have fallen out there,” an older man commented and was able to hoist him back into the hammock. A thought struck him that he should know who the man was, but nothing else came. He knew the woman next to him was Miss Swann, but not what had happened or why he was in such a state. His face was unshaven as though it had been several days and he knew this wasn’t The Endeavour.
“Where am I?” he asked in a soft, unused voice. A strange expression crossed Miss Swann’s face although the man was kind and answered, “The Black Pearl.”
The Black Pearl? Something was really wrong and he had a battle that he needed to be at, they needed him or the pirates would win.
“My ship, I should be getting back there,” he said with a spat of coughing and started to rise. He was pushed back down by the man and Elizabeth gave him another odd look as she asked in a harsh tone, “How could you not remember?”
“Elizabeth,” the other man warned and she countered by saying, “Gibbs.” Ah, so this was Mr. Gibbs…he vaguely recalled a Mr. Gibbs who worked on the Black Pearl.
“People can go a bit funny when inches from death. His memory may be the least of it,” told Gibbs as though he was accustomed to story-telling. She was unsure and looked at Cutler intently which Cutler didn’t appreciate and he didn’t like the insinuation that he was wrong in the head and body…he just couldn’t remember and what was this about death?
“I am not dead,” he corrected them and Gibbs looked almost…sympathetic. Elizabeth crossed her arms and replied, “You would have been.” Her dark eyes were angry and she stalked away. He looked at the other man for some explanation.
“She’s not the carefree child she once was,” Gibbs clarified, “She’s gained a husband and…we still recall what you can’t.”
It seemed to Cutler that Elizabeth was the broken one and he was intrigued by what could have caused it. She was nothing like the girl who had held a gun to his head last year.
“What did happen?” he questioned and hoped that he had guessed Gibbs’ talent as a story teller correctly. There was a time when he loved to hear a good tale about the far places, Calypso and Davy Jones especially when told by his lover in particular…but he couldn’t…it wasn’t worth it to remember those times, they just hurt. Still, this was a telling Cutler needed to hear.
“We won,” responded Gibbs in a way that sounded like they hadn’t. Why were they all so sad?
“Was it Jack?”
He was met by confusion although he thought what he meant was obvious.
“Her husband, is it Jack?” Cutler asked.
“No, she married young Turner,” Gibbs replied, pulled the thin blanket up on him and walked off after Elizabeth.
Sleep took him and it was night before he stumbled on deck. He resembled a drunken sailor. The stars shone above him and he looked, really looked for the first time in twenty years. They were pretty again without attachments, Cutler tried to force that night out of his mind as he looked at Orion and Sirius and Ursula Minor. Then, he noticed that he wasn’t alone. Elizabeth stood at the railing and moonlight glinted off wetness on her cheeks. It shocked him so he hesitated at what he should do; go back below or converse with her. Cutler walked over, not sure of what to say. He opened his mouth in preparation for speech and nothing came out, nothing sounded right. However, she saw him because she wiped her face with the back of her hand and muttered, “And you recollect nothing.”
“I wish…” he started, but she interrupted him, “All those deaths and you don’t feel a thing, not a single trace of remorse for all those men you sent to death…so young and inexperienced, knowing nothing of real battle.”
Once again, he was at a loss for what to say so he resorted to the only way he knew how to deal with women who were crying, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t, you have no idea what’s been done,” she spoke, “I can’t bring him back, too.” Cutler gripped the railing for support as she slipped past him, leaving him wondering what had really happened. What had he done? How badly had the fight gone? He brought a hand to his own face and felt the stubble covering it yet he felt no need to remove it. The stars had turned cruel and reminded him of who he used to be before he stepped into Joubert’s that day. He needed answers but he wasn’t ready to face the man who’d have them, alone. Instead, he staggered back to his hammock and crawled in, hoping that tomorrow would be better.
The next morning, he woke up and he remembered the day before. It was a nice feeling; that little bit of security in insane world. He was no better than a prize of war; either, he could act as such and get put into the brig or he had to fit in somehow…be like them. The thought brought a shudder to him, but he had absolutely no interest of being in a brig. He gently dropped down and tied his shirt tighter as a makeshift belt. His clothes would be something else he needed to ask about as well as his wig, the lack of which made his head feel naked. The crew began to head out and he followed after them, ignoring the ones who were eating. Just the smell alone made him nauseous yet he didn’t want to be in his hammock anymore. Cutler wished to be out there in the sunlight, he always had. Unfortunately, he was immediately spotted by Jack who sauntered over to him. He grinned so that the metal on his teeth glinted and his brown eyes were particularly mischievous. From nearby on deck, he produced a bucket that he handed to Cutler and ordered, “You can scrub my deck.” It appeared to be what the rest of the crew were doing so he grabbed the bucket and a rag. No sooner had he kneeled down than Jack leaned in close to whisper in his ear, “It’s been years since I’ve had you on your knees.” Red started to creep into his cheeks despite his not wanting it, but Elizabeth showed up then.
“Is he well enough for this sort of labour?” she asked and he was shocked to hear concern in her voice.
“It’s good for him…builds character,” Jack explained while patting Cutler’s head so he couldn’t see her as she countered sadly, “That’s what you always say.” They left before he had a chance to ask anything and he dropped the cloth in the water with a plop. Then, he took it up again and rubbed it against the wood over and over. At first, it was unbearable. His mind felt like it would explode from lack of use. He was accustomed to worrying about every port and ship under the East India Trading company and how to extend their realm as well as the latest rumour of pirates and legends that could prove to be true. Every second of his day was filled until now. Now, he only had to see to his patch of deck being wet and halfway clean. It was almost relaxing. Cutler had had his own ship…he had the sneaking suspicion that it was laying at the bottom of the sea at present which made him sad. However, he’d never done any of the work himself before. Supervision had been more his forte so it was interesting to actually attempt the work until he started coughing a few hours later and nearly passed out which he took as a sign that he needed to rest more than he thought.
