Chapter 3:  Damn

 

James yawned as he opened his eyes.  He sighed and turned to look at the man lying beside him.  Damn.  He was still in Jack’s cabin, where he was not supposed to be after dawn, and it appeared that the sun was already rising.  Although the crew knew full well of the nature of their relationship, James was expected to leave before morning.  It was a Jack thing, he supposed, or perhaps a way of reminding James of his position in life.  He was, after all, only a crewmember aboard a pirate ship.

He slid out of the bed and smiled softly at the blissful look on Jack’s sleeping face before quickly pulling on his clothing.  He was vaguely confused about his boots, which seemed to have somehow never been removed, but he did not dwell on any of the night’s events as he hurried to make it to his hammock before he was to rise for his shift.

Though James would sometimes run into a crewmate on his way to where he was supposed to sleep, he had never had anything happen like what did as he ventured into the relative darkness below decks this particular morning.

Before James even knew that someone was nearby, he had been forced roughly against a wall.  “What the hell is wrong with you?” a familiar voice hissed.

André…

“What are you talking about?” James asked, the same question André had just asked him running through his mind.

“The captain’s whore?  Is that all you believe you’re good for now?” André said, his breath brushing against James’ face.  He smelled strongly of rum.

“You’ve been drinking,” James accused, avoiding the question.

“Damn right I have been,” André replied coldly.  “I can’t believe that you would allow yourself to become so…to do…”

James closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his senses confused by the scents of rum and the sea that usually associated with Jack.  “André, this is all I am.  I’ve no title, no wealth, no honor…”

“Obviously you have no honor,” André snapped.  “Being captain’s pet and all.  Although, perhaps you enjoy it.  Maybe you like playing whore, Jamie.”

James was not sure if it was the accusation (which was partially true) or the use of Jack’s nickname for him, but something prompted him to switch positions with André, and now James was the one pinning the other man to the wall.  “Perhaps I do,” he hissed into André’s ear.  “Perhaps I do happen to like him.”

“God forbid,” André breathed.

“Do not tamper with what you do not understand, André,” James said under his breath, attempting to remain calm.  “I suggest you go ashore as soon as possible and get back to Port Royal.  Don’t throw away everything for me.  As you clearly believe, I’m not worth it.”

And again James found his back painfully impacting the wall.  “You are the most foolish bastard I have ever met,” André said harshly.

James opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off as André suddenly and forcefully kissed him.  James’ eyes widened in surprise and he tried to pull away, only to find the wall behind him impeding him.  André seemed to pour out his soul in the kiss as he slowly explored James’ mouth, and James found himself getting lost in it as well.  André tasted of rum, a familiar and comforting taste, yet he was different and strangely refreshing, with a tenderness behind his motions that was somewhat lacking with Jack.

Just as James was giving in, André abruptly pulled back, stumbling slightly as he moved away from James and held a hand over his mouth, his eyes wide with shock.  “Merde,” André swore.  “Bloody rum…I…I didn’t mean to, James.”  André turned away, but paused before leaving.  “You have no idea how highly I value you, sir.  You’re worth much more than I can ever offer,” he said quietly before rushing away, leaving a rather befuddled James behind.

James slid down the wall and sat on the ground, blinking as he attempted to clear his mind.  But it was impossible; the emotions raging in his mind were too overwhelming.

Damn André.  If he had not shown up in Tortuga, if he had not joined the crew of the Black Pearl, he would be safe in Port Royal and James would not have to worry about him now.

And damn Jack.  If it had not been for him, James would be safe in Port Royal, his honor intact.  And same with André—he would also be in Port Royal, and James would not have to worry about him.

Perhaps it all would have been better if James had not accepted Jack’s aid.  Granted, there was little else he could have done, but he still felt a certain amount of responsibility for the situation.  And the situation seemed suddenly worse as James realized that, because of concern for him, André had put himself on a path of destruction.  He would be handed over to Davy Jones and have to live and serve aboard the Flying Dutchman for a hundred years, all because of his concern for James.

And I’m not worth it.

James was certain that he was not worth the level of devotion André was showing him.  He was not worth the high price André would have to pay for his actions.  Why couldn’t André see that?

“Norrington?”  James looked up at Mr. Gibbs, who was gazing at him worriedly.  “Are you all right?”

James was very embarrassed to see that Gibbs and Marty appeared to have been watching him for a while, unnoticed by the distressed former Commodore.  “I’m…”  To say that he was “all right” would be a lie.  “It’s nothing important.”

Mr. Gibbs nodded, however unbelievingly, and left James to be.  But Marty remained, his head cocked to the side as he studied James.  “Did something happen with you and the captain?” he asked after a few moments.

James flushed as he remembered what had happened the night before, but he shook his head.  “I’m all right, Marty,” James lied.

Marty also appeared to be skeptical, but he nodded and left James alone.  And once again, confused thoughts cluttered James’ brain.  Because of him, André was going to suffer for the next century.  Because of him, André, loyal, sweet André, would eventually die.

But André was part of James’ past life.  He did not belong here, on the Pearl, at all.  James had finally managed to move on, to forget the life he had before.  But then André appeared in that bar in Tortuga, and everything flooded back; it felt like pouring saltwater onto an open wound.

The memory of Elizabeth, his betrothed (in what seemed like another lifetime), was both sweet and sour, leaving a bad taste in his mind.  And that Turner—if James had stayed in Port Royal, he would have found a way to get him hung.

No…he would never do anything like that.  But the man James was now would.  Honor was forgotten, love was long gone.  All there was left of James was a free man who would do whatever he could to get what he wanted.  The only matters of importance to James were Jack and the sea.

And now André.

But damn him!  Along with bitter memories of Elizabeth and her latest fiancé came memories of James’ close friendship with André.  Yes, it was wonderful at the time to have such a close friend and confidant working so close to him, but that life was over.  James had moved on—André needed to as well.

However, now that André had reminded James of his previous life, of who he used to be, James feared that he could never go back to his rather carefree self and relationship with Jack.  Why the hell did André have to show up just as James had finally let go?

“Because I heard you might be here.”

“Just because you heard I was there, André?” James muttered.  “I have nothing to go back to.  The life I had is gone.”

“I’m not.”

James looked up quickly, his green eyes wide with surprise.  André coughed and rubbed the back of his neck as he shifted his weight nervously.  “I’ll always be here for you, sir.”

“I’m not the man you knew, André.  I should think that would be obvious by now,” James said bitterly as he got to his feet.

“I don’t believe that’s true, sir.”  James arched a curious brow.  “I can see it in your eyes, James.  You’re still the man I’ve served under for years.  You’re still my friend.  And—.”  André coughed again and looked at his feet.  He took a deep breath.  “I need more rum,” he said under his breath.

James shook his head.  “I don’t think you do…I believe you had enough earlier.”

André flushed deeply.  “I’m so sorry, sir.”

Sighing sadly, James slowly approached him, taking his face in his hands and forcing André to look up at him.  “Don’t be,” he said with a small smile.  André’s breath had quickened almost fearfully, though James was certain that he was not feeling fear as James moved closer to him.

“Oi, Jamie!  Never known you to be late for your shift,” Jack’s voice called down below decks.

James’ eyes widened as Jack’s voice rang in his head and he leapt back as though burned.  André’s eyes narrowed.  “I hate seeing you like this, James.  You should be the one in command—not at the beck and call of some pirate,” he said with disgust.  “I’m going to free you, James.  Whatever it takes, I will free you from his hold over you.”

James closed his eyes and shook his head.  “André…”  At the sound of footsteps approaching, André vanished and James was left alone again, somehow more confused and concerned than ever before.

“Damn.”