Norrington's Darling

Part of the Crew, Part of the Ship

POV: Zuri Norrington

James pushed both of us behind him. "Go. I will follow." But he did not meet my eyes. He was lying.

"James, no," I ordered. "Don't do this. Not now."

"You're lying," Elizabeth accused.

"You're going to be a father, James. Please don't do this! Don't be a hero, just this once. Just this once, let yourself be a coward."

James looked at Elizabeth. He swallowed. "Our destinies have been entwined, Elizabeth...but never joined." He kissed her cheek and nodded her onto the ropes. "Go! Now!" His voice shook. She obeyed.

I twined my hand through his. "James!"

"You, too, Naut," James ordered. "I need to see you go. I need to see you and our child safe."

"I'm not going before you," I said. "James, get on that rope. Go. Don't make me watch you—" I swallowed. "Don't make me watch you die." I knew. I knew he was going to die if he stayed. And stay he would. He was James Norrington, the bravest man the world had ever seen.

Bootstrap reached us. James brandished his sword, his free hand pushing me back. I didn't move. He covered my stomach with his arm. "Back to your station, sailor!"

"I have never seen her before," Bootstrap murmured, examining me. Then his eyes lit up with recognition. "Oh! Oh, yes I have! Zuri!"

I went cold.

His eyes narrowed. "Why are you on the Dutchman?"

"I—I'm visiting my husband, Bootstrap. James is my husband."

Bootstrap's eyes went to the ropes, to Elizabeth and the men climbing on them. "No one leaves the ship."

"Stand down!" James' volume was rising. "That's an order!"

"That's an order," repeated Bootstrap. "That's an order. Part of the crew, part of the ship. Part of the crew, part of the ship."

"Steady, man!" James called. I squeezed his arm.

"James, let's go!" I tugged on him, pulling him to the ropes. I could hardly see through my tears. I could hardly speak. "James! Darling, please!"

"Part of the crew, part of the ship! ALL HANDS, PRISONER ESCAPE!"

"NO!" I screamed.

"Belay that!" yelled James, pulling out a pistol. 

"James!" screamed Elizabeth.

"BOOTSTRAP, HOW COULD YOU?" I wailed. "You were my friend! You were my friend!"

James turned to the lines from which Elizabeth and her crew dangled. Mournful face bringing more tears to my eyes, he said, "Get on the ropes."

"Not a chance."

Blinking away tears, James shot the line. They fell into the ocean, screaming and shouting. I whirled as I heard Bootstrap move, a sword being drawn from a sheath.

"JAMES!" I screamed as he turned.

He walked directly into the thrust Bootstrap aimed for his chest. A gurgle escape his mouth as he struggled to stay upright. I screamed and screamed and screamed. My hands rose to my mouth. I could hardly breathe. James grabbed for me and I held him, trying to look at the wound to see if I could save him, then looking away because of the blood soaking his beautiful uniform.

Elizabeth looked up. "JAMES!" she screeched, her voice hardly making out his name. "No! NO!" Her words were mixed with sobs, but they stopped quickly.

Mine did not.

Sobbing, I held him as he fell, falling with him to the deck. My knees hit the wood hard, but I hardly felt the pain. It was nothing compared to the agony searing through my heart.

"James! James! James! Stay with me! Darling, stay with me!" I whipped around to Bootstrap, boots slamming on the deck. James made a choked gurgle. "BOOTSTRAP! I'll kill you! I'LL KILL YOU!" My words and sobs turned into moans. I put my head on James's stomach. A weak hand stroked my hair and everything else fell away. I looked at my dying husband.

"Make sure," he said through sticky coughs, "that you and our...our child get away from here. Make sure you l-live. I don't care what you have to d-d-do, what lies you have to...have to tell. Save your...yourself and our baby."

"What do I name them? Tell me, James," I gasped, trying to come back together for his sake. "Tell me, James. Tell me again."

His hand slipped to my face, holding me by my cheek. "Cedric. Cedric...if...if it's a son. If it's a girl, name her Briar." He tried to smile. "Exotic names, just like mama's. And bring them...bring them up pirate."

I kissed his cheek. "James, please. Please. We had a life together. A future. Don't leave me. Don't make me live it alone."

He kissed me hard, but he was weakening and so did the kiss. "Be strong for me, Naut. Be strong. Make Jack raise our little one with you. Make Theodore do it. And keep them away from Beckett."

Anger froze in my chest. "Beckett will be dead before they're born, I promise you. I'll kill myself if I have to."

James stroked my hair. "One last kiss," he pleaded softly. "One last kiss from my wife."

I sobbed. "One last kiss for my husband." We kissed. We kissed. And we kissed. It seemed to be forever. I doubted it was. Nothing can last forever. Not even this final moment together could last forever.

James' head lolled back. His eyes went glassy. Blood spread from Bootstrap's sword. His breath fell in tiny gasps, barely visible. His pulse slowed.

"Admiral's dead?" asked one of Jones' men. I had never bothered to learn their names. I hated them all too much to care.

Murmurs repeating this statement spread.

"To the captain's cabin!" yelled one and all but Bootstrap and newly-arrived Jones fled. I turned my tearstained face up at Jones.

"Mercy," I pleaded. "Mercy. He his my husband. He is to be a father."

James's eyes latched onto Jones and he squeezed my hand. I hadn't realized we were still holding hands. 

"James Norrington," said Jones, crouching, "do you fear death?"

Mouth struggling to form words, James drew in a few breaths, squeezed my hand again, and thrust his sword up into Jones' heart. Or the cavity, at least, where it belonged.

At last, James slumped. His body went limp and his eyes grew dim.

"I'll take that as a no," Jones said.

I screamed.

I screamed.

I screamed.

This pain was immeasurable. 

This pain was the worst I had ever experienced. 

I had lost my brother to Jones once. Now I had lost my husband.

I screamed.

"Nice sword," commented Jones as I became a moaning, sobbing mess above my husband's body. He stood, pulling it from his chest. He turned to walk away.

"Wait," I whispered. 

Jones stopped. "Zuri Norrington. You wish to speak?"

"Kill me," I pleaded. "Please. Please kill me. Take mercy on me."

Jones observed me, then shook his head. "Heartless as I may be, I see the child you carry." For once, he sounded normal. Wise, even. "Your marine would not wish his child to die before it is even born. Live, and do not repeat the mistakes of your brother or your husband." Pity lingered in his gaze. "Let this child bring happiness to you once more." And this time he left.

I sobbed over James's listless, limp, sightless, lifeless body.