The Vow

"No. No, stop."

The pained moans woke me first, and I was turning to the source when, quite suddenly, a piercing scream rang out in the stillness of the night.

I shot up in bed, my heart pounding. The scream rang in my ears, and the tang of sweat and terror rested heavily on my tongue. Before I was even aware of my surroundings, I was reaching for my pistol, ready to kill whoever was attacking or hurting the members of my crew.

Before I could find the pistol, a hand grabbed my wrist. I gasped and pulled back, lashing out with my free hand. The back of it connected with flesh, and I heard a groan.

"Elizabeth," Will said, voice pained. "Calm down. We're not under attack."

My eyes were open by now, and I could see that the only one under attack was Jack, and that was by inner demons.

He'd been sleeping peacefully between the two of us, having dropped into an exhausted sleep after a marathon session of lovemaking the three of us had participated in earlier that evening. Now, however, he was anything but peaceful. His face was contorted as if he were in pain. Sweat poured down his face and neck, and his shirt was stuck to him in damp patches. Small moans escaped his throat between heady gasps as he writhed on the bed, bunching the linen, every muscle in his body pulled taut.

"Jack?" I reached out to wake him, but Will caught my hand.

"I'm not sure if we should wake him."

I frowned. "Of course we should wake him. He's having a nightmare."

Will looked at me, his eyes huge and scared. "I've heard if you wake someone, his dreams follow them into the waking world. The images take residence around the dreamer and haunt him, and everyone around him."

This from one of the most practical and rational men I knew. He did choose this moment to take off on a flight of fancy.

I forced myself to relax and soften my voice. "Will, love, you know that's a ridiculous notion. In fact ..."

"No!" Jack shouted, bolting upright.

I was knocked off the bed and onto the floor. My face slammed into the hard wood, breath knocked out of me.

"Jack?" Will said tentatively. "Jack, it's me."

I pushed myself up to gaze at the scene on the bed. Jack's eyes were open, but he didn't seem to be aware of what was going on around him. They were wild and glassy as he stared blankly at the opposite wall. He was still breathing heavily and he appeared to be trembling.

Will stroked his hair and shoulder tentatively. "Jack, please. Wake up."

Jack grabbed him, holding him so tightly that Will grunted, face twisting. "William?"

He frowned slightly; we very rarely, if ever, called him 'William', but Will answered, "Aye," in a calm voice.

"William." Jack turned to him, hands tracing Will's face and neck, down his body. "William." He sounded confused and weak. So unlike himself that I was frightened.

"Yes, Jack, I'm here. What's wrong?" He lifted one hand to Jack's face and rubbed his fingers over the sweaty skin.

Jack exhaled. "Don't let them maroon me," he whispered.

Will started, shock written on his face. "What?"

"Don't let them put me out on that rock to die. Not like this. I can't survive like this. They ..." His voice cracked, and he swallowed. He opened his eyes and turned once more to Will. "Kill me. Tonight, now, before they can do anymore."

Will raised his eyes to look at me desperately.

I shrugged, unable to make any more sense of Jack than he.

"William, please," Jack pleaded. His hands scratched at Will's clothing.

"Elizabeth," Will said desperately.

"I don't know what to do, Will." I rose and climbed on the bed behind Jack. "Jack, darling, it's me. Elizabeth." I pulled his hair from his neck.

Jack stiffened, inhaling sharply. His hand came up, catching me across the face. I cried out and fell to the floor as he roared, "Get back!" He rose to his knees, a towering rage. "Don't you dare touch me, you bloody mutineer!"

"Jack!" I watched as William lunged for Jack, tugging him until the fell over, Jack on top of Will. "Jack, that's Elizabeth. She isn't a mutineer. None of us are."

"You think you can use Captain Jack Sparrow! Animals! I'll have my revenge. You won't be rid of me so easily." And then, the life went out of him, like a puppet whose string had been cut. He went limp and rolled off Will so he was face down, shaking, beads of sweat rolling slowly down his back.

"Stay where you are," Will warned me, as if I hadn't already figured that for myself. Not that I could move. I was beginning to get an inkling of what was going on, and the heaviness in my stomach pinned me to the floor.

Will rolled Jack onto his back. He cried out, arching as phantom pains of injuries long since healed flared, but allowed Will to hover over him.

"Jack, my love, wake up. You're dreaming; none of this is real. Wake up." He shook Jack.

"The treasure is said to be cursed, William," Jack said, his voice a painful whispered. "Cursed by the heathen gods. For your own sake, leave it be. You were always good to me, William. You ..." He groaned, a tear sliding out of his glassy eyes.

"He thinks you're your father, Will."

Will laughed hollowly and caressed Jack's stomach. "I know."

Jack gasped and shifted again. "It hurts. God, William, the pain. Barbossa ... He's done me in, I'm sure."

"No, Jack. Barbossa's dead, remember? You shot him a year ago."

"William. William, my best friend. Please. One last sip of rum, and then shoot me. Take my pistol and aim true." When Will said nothing, Jack sat up, grabbing Will's shirt in balled fists. "William, you must do this for me. Be kind to me. You're the only one who didn't ...." He lurched a few times, and I was certain he would throw up, but he didn't. Instead, he rested his head on Will's shoulder and whispered, "If I can't swim to the island myself, if I can't stand on my own two legs as ye sail away, I'd rather die now. With some dignity left. *Please.*"

"Oh, Jack." Will lifted his head and kissed him tenderly. "Anything, Jack, just please, wake up." He kissed him over and over, until Jack was pressing up into the kisses, hand threaded in Will's hair.

I stood by the bed, my hand at my heart, tears gathering in my eyes as I watched their kisses grow more passionate. I could see Will's tongue slide against Jack's, hear as the moans of pain turned into moans of pleasure and Jack's hands cease to clutch at Will so desperately. His body warmed to the activity and his hands caressed Will with increasing familiarity.

After a bit, Jack pulled away. He glanced around the cabin in confusion, before his eyes settled on Will. He cocked is head a moment, one hand raising in a familiar gesture before he smirked. "Tell me, Will. Do you always try to seduce me in my sleep?"

Will's eyes were wide as he said, "Jack, you were having a nightmare. I couldn't wake you, you ...."

"Shhh," was Jack's response. He lowered himself to Will and kissed him. "Don't talk of that," he whispered into his mouth.

Sinking to the bed, I pulled my knees to my chest and watched as Jack slowly undressed Will. He was oblivious to my presence. I wondered if he was even fully awake. A moment before he'd been speaking to Will's father, and now he made love to Will. The transition had been so sudden, couldn't help but wonder if Jack really knew who the body under him was.

Will gasped as Jack's mouth closed over his nipple, and then he bit his bottom lip, making his next groan muffled. He always tried to stay so silent when making love, and always, *always*, failed. Each time Jack ran his calloused hands over Will's smooth skin, he moaned and sighed and twisted. Normally, at times like this, it was my job to keep him from biting his lip raw in an attempt to keep from making a sound, as he was doing now, but I couldn't move. Couldn't do anything but watch Jack and my husband.

"So pretty," Jack murmured into Will's neck. His teeth took hold of the flesh, biting hard. Marking.

Had Jack been marked? Had they bit him, cut him, bruised him? He must have bled. Jack had always been so careful with Will, as well as show Will and I both how to prepare a man for pleasure. But I'm not stupid. I know what happens when one is taken to quickly and too roughly, and Jack would have been taken that way, over and over.

"Jack!" Will's voice was strangled as his hips arched off the bed.

Jack's laugh was a purr that washed over my skin. I could feel my body respond, yearning for someone, something. Yearning for my husband and my lover, but they were too wrapped in each other, and my mind was too much in turmoil.

Jack entered Will slowly, muttering curses and flatteries.

Had they flattered him? Said things that sounded like compliments ...

"So tight, Will ..."

... like love speak ...

"Perfect. Perfect ..."

... like something lovers said to one another ...

"Stay here always, inside you ..."

Had Jack had to listen to them abuse him like that? Or had they simply jeered and took their pleasure before tossing him below decks, in the brig, left to be cared for by William Bootstrap Turner.

Jack shifted and angled his body as he drove deeply into Will. Will bit down on his lip hard, breaking the skin, a scream sounding in his throat as blood gathered on his lower lip.

His lover laughed softly and tugged at Will's lower lip. When it was free, Jack drove in again.

"Jack. Jack!" Will threw himself onto Jack, arms and legs wrapping tightly around his body as Will came. His face, so angelic to begin with, was heightened with passion and pleasure, color beating in his cheeks, flushed and dewy with sweat, a look of ecstasy etched across it.

Jack grunted and pushed Will back down. His hips pistoned frantically, causing Will to moan in gentle protest and welcome, eyes glazed with pleasure. When Jack came, he did so with a roar, his head thrown back, body stilling as he poured his essence into Will.

Panting, he bent over and kissed Will. When he pulled out, he flopped onto the bed. One hand came to rest across Will's chest, the other flung out across the other side of the bed.

A frown creased his forehead suddenly, and Jack blinked and raised his head.

"Elizabeth." He sat up quickly, glancing at Will, before turning to me.

"Jack." I reached for him.

He hesitated a moment before drawing me to him. "Enjoy the show?"

"Aye." I blinked tears from my eyes.

"What's this, then?" He touched the side of my face gently.

I winced; my face was tender and squishy from where I fell and he hit me. "Tis nothing," I assured him.

"No, not nothing. You weren't bruised when we went to bed."

"No. I wasn't. But it was an accident," I assured him. "You thought I was a mutineer."

His face changed, going dark and blank. "I see." Jack looked down at Will and examined him a moment. His thumb touched Will's lacerated lower lip gently, but as that was nothing new, he did not comment. He looked back at me. "I'm sorry, love. Wasn't thinking clearly."

"It's all right. You were having a nightmare." I frowned. "Darling ..."

"No, love," Jack cut me off. "Twas a nightmare. Don't neither of you worry about it."

Will draped himself over Jack's back. His arms closed possessively around Jack's chest and he said, "I don't think it was just a nightmare. I think it was a memory."

Jack sighed and rested his head against Will's shoulder. He hugged me tightly to his body as if I were a doll. "Yes. A memory. But long past, even so. No sense dragging up demons over a bad dream."

"But Jack ..."

"Why bother? Naught that we can do now. I've my ship back, the crew is dead. I have my revenge. Besides, they suffered truer agony every moment for ten years than I did that night."

"You were begging me to kill you."

Jack shook his head, not moving it from Will's shoulder. "I was begging Bootstrap to kill me." He turned his head slightly to look at Jack. "Told you I was one of the only men who knew him as William. Ever wonder why?"

Will flushed. "I try not to think of it."

Laughing, Jack stroked his cheek. "Clear your dirty thoughts, young one, 'tis not what you think. We were as close as any two men could be without falling into each other's beds. Not for lack of wanting on my part, true, but 'twas worth the sacrifice to have the friendship of a good man. And be the lover of his son." He sighed and closed his eyes again. "For years I cursed him for not killing me, not showing me the mercy. But, eventually I realized he was right. He was always right."

I leaned forward and kissed him. Jack received my kiss willingly enough, although he didn't raise his head from Will's shoulder. He did caress my back and up into my hair, tracing along my spine until I shivered.

"I'm so sorry, Jack," I said, tears spilling over onto my cheeks.

"Tis not your fault, love. Nor yours, Will. And I'll not have the two of you mourning for me. There be no reason. What's done is done, it's in the past, and we're sailing toward the future. Ever free, ever out of walls." He pushed Will back until we were all lying on the bed.

I laid my head on his chest, and listened to his heart. It was beating fast, as it always did after sex, but now, with the smell of fear still on him, it felt different. My Jack, my strong, brave, brilliant, if a bit mad, captain had been hurt. Which meant those nights when he clung to me, he didn't just cling because I was there, or because he wanted something. It was to help keep the demons away, the same as Will. The same as I did to both of them.

Jack needed me. He needed me to be strong for him, to protect him and to love him. Even if he never admitted he needed any of it, I knew now.

Kissing his chest, I thought. One year ago, I'd married Will. I promised to love, cherish, and honor him. I'd also sworn to stay by his side and protect him always.

Four months ago I'd taken Jack Sparrow into our bed. We'd made no vows and no promises. There had been no need. But now there was.

I turned my head and rested my head on his chest. Whispering so softly that no one could hear me, I vowed, "I promise to protect and love you for all the rest of my life, Jack. I swear it."

He didn't hear me. He did, however, feel my words against my chest. I know, because even though he said nothing, he ran his hand up my back and kissed my hair. And thus we stayed, Will, Jack, and me, twined together in body, spirit, and soul.