Stranger Redemption (Davy Jones x Female OC)

XI

That night, with some particularly angry playing of the organ sounding from Davy's room. Anya had a few drinks with the crew. She knows the atmosphere out here and in there is vastly different, while holding onto the same sense of sorrow and lost life. Anya decides to put all inhibition aside and go in. She didn't sneak, but he wouldn't hear her over his playing anyway as she sways through the room making her way up behind him. Broad shoulders swaying side to side as he plays. She oh so carefully puts her hands on his shoulders.

Familiar with her touch. He stops moving enough for her to press closer, but he doesn't stop playing. She carefully slides her right arm down across his chest. He takes a deep breath, eyes closing.

The worn music box plays on the left of his table. It's played most nights when she's been in here. And Anya doesn't know why, but she doesn't like it.

But she likes what he plays.

"Why don't you ever play anything happy?"

"I'm not happy."

His eyes fall to the music box and Anya can't help herself. She boldly reaches out and shuts it. Stopping it's song.

"Enough of that."

She climbs around to his front, wrapping her legs around his for support, resting on his lap and leaning into his shoulder between his playing arms. "Play me something happy."

Her sleepy and tipsy words whisper into his ear. And for the first time ever. Davy Jones begins to play a ballad on his instrument. Something he has never played before. That he's coming up with as he goes along.

It seems inspiration suddenly struck.

__________________

Anya wakes up in the soft bed. She feels his presence and smiles. She either woke up too early or he slept too late but she's not complaining.

She turns still drowsy to her other side and sees him sitting at the bottom edge of the bed instead of laying next to her like he should be.

"Her name was Calypso."

Anya sits up. Curious about the story he's about to tell her. 

"She was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen."

Oh. This story was going to be about her.

Anya knew there was a her. She just hadn't heard the gritty details yet. Suddenly, she was starting to slightly dread hearing this story. 

"I was a sailor. And she was the Sea. A goddess. I thought, she must really love me. To take time away from her truest form. To be with me."

The agony in his voice grips Anya's heart and she holds herself back from physically reaching out to him.

"She said, if I were to ferry souls for her. The ones who had passed away at sea. We could be together on that one day, every ten years when I would be allowed to step foot on land... for an eternity." His voice turns angry at the next sentence. "But she never came... For ten years, I did as she asked of me. And she never. even. came."

"Why?"

He blinks. Almost as if he had forgot she was there. But he hadn't. He wanted to tell her this. Still not facing Anya, he answers. "I do not know."

Anya knew that could possibly be worse than knowing. He has been tortured for God knows how long and he doesn't even know why.

"You stopped ferrying the souls?"

"Why should I be her slave any longer?"

And it's a good question. One that Anya has an answer for. "You shouldn't."  She was so quiet she's not even sure he heard her.