Say My Name

Disclaimer-It all belongs to Disney. I am making no money from this, just laying to rest a small plot bunny-ette that hopped up to me in the shower when I came to the realization that warm water and second-degree sunburn don't mix.

*****

Elizabeth was sleeping when he entered her bedchamber. He could make out the slight rising and falling of her chest from the flickering light of the bedside lamp. Silently, he closed the door behind him, locking it before he approached the bed. He carefully removed the sheet from her body so as not to wake her, taking in her naked form as he began to undress.

She lay on her back, her face turned toward him, her right side in shadow. Most of the scarring from the burns was shielded from view, but he knew every inch of them by heart. The severely puckered white and pink skin of her right arm, stretched so tight that the elbow was constantly bent, rendering the limb largely useless; the mottled discoloration of flesh starting mid cheek, running down her neck and along her side to her hip, stray wisps reaching along her back, breast, stomach, and buttocks.

However much the lack of light hid these things from his sight, there was no amount of shadow that would disguise the fact that her right leg was gone, severed by a surgeon's blade a few inches past her hip. He'd been told it was a miracle that she lived.

Lived would not be the word he would use to describe it, for she no longer truly lived; he liked to think of it as surviving. For although she still ate and breathed, her mind had not endured. Whether it was damage from the explosion or the loss of her husband that had caused this, he could not say. It mattered little to him now as he sat on the bed fully unclothed, his hand slowly trailing up her left leg, causing her to stir slightly. Nor had it mattered to him for the past seven years that he had been coming to her at night, the nurse he hired to care for her sleeping deeply from an herb he would slip in her tea when he planned to come to Elizabeth's room. All that mattered was that she had come back, and that he had been allowed to have her when no one else would take her in.

Softly he stroked his fingers against her curls, causing her to spread her legs and moan. Feeling himself begin to harden, he increased the pressure, seeking and finding her nub and rubbing it with his thumb. She woke gradually, her movements and sounds increasing with his speed until he was sure she was fully awake. He removed his hand and positioned himself above her, entering her quickly for he knew that neither of them would last long; their couplings were always quick. His pace was frantic as she wrapped her left arm and leg around him, whimpering incoherent noises.

"Say my name, Elizabeth," he panted, feeling his release draw near. "Tonight, please say my name."

"Jack!" she cried, her walls contracting around him, drawing out his own release with a guttural cry. He held himself slightly above her, watching as slight tremors coursed through her body until she was finally still.

Carefully withdrawing himself from her body, he stood and padded over to the washstand in the corner, using the cold water and a rag to bathe before returning to the bedside and beginning to dress. Elizabeth had already fallen back into sleep, a small smile on her lips. For seven years he had asked her to say his name, and for seven years the answer she had given was the name of her husband, lost when the Black Pearl's powder magazine had exploded while fighting the navy. Elizabeth had survived, and was brought to port, and later, into his house.

Fully dressed now, he leaned across her, picking up one of the bed pillows and placing it over her face. "I'm sorry Elizabeth. I cannot wait any longer to hear you say my name."

Positioning his hands atop the pillow, he pressed down, using all of his weight to hold it in place as she began to struggle. He did not stop until she had been still for some time. Leaving the pillow in place, he moved to the door and unlocked it, exiting the room and not looking back. He walked down the stairs and to the front door, retrieving his cloak and hat along the way.

The chill night air filled his lungs as he strode purposefully from his house. Tomorrow, the nurse would find Elizabeth's body; he would be arrested in the morning and hung by the end of the week. But the night was still his, and perhaps one last visit to Esther was in order. Certainly, she was not Elizabeth, but Esther always remembered to call him Will.