Once In A Lifetime (work in progress)
Title: Once In A Lifetime (1/4)
Author: Cymbeline
Pairings: Will/Calypso/ (Elizabeth)
Rating: NC-17
Notes: Post AWE. First attempt at writing Will, anything supernatural, and using a song. I’m way off the edge of the map here! Inspired by ‘Once In A Lifetime’ by Wolfsheim
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Weeks after the last dark vestiges of Calypso’s maelstrom vanished, Will still felt her presence as a cool prickling on the breeze. In the fading light, as The Flying Dutchman moved on its nightly course, he heard words rushing past his ears. They flowed in the rhythm of a heartbeat, whispered in the tones that one speaks to a lover. Although inaudible, the message was settling in, bringing him back to that oppressively humid shack where her sly innuendo slid under his skin. At the time, it was not for her that he had yearned with every fiber, but Elizabeth and their interrupted union. His mind’s eye shifted to that one day on the island, how in all manner of possible fashions, he and Elizabeth attempted to assuage the desire. Each hoped it would be enough to make up for and sustain for time lost. It worked for a time, but the details faded and teased his subconscious. This brought about dreams that were intensely vivid, and to his distress, about the Obeah woman and not his beloved.
Late one night he awoke to a voice calling his name. Stepping out from the darkness was Calypso, wearing not a stitch of clothing, one hand outstretched, palm up, like the first time he met her as Tia Dalma. Silently, she approached him and placed the hand on his cheek. He hissed as he felt a searing heat, like being branded, and then felt his heart racing. No. That was not possible! He attempted to protest her presence but nothing came out. He watched with apprehension as Calypso moved her hand to the scar that marred his chest; the sensation sent him reeling under a seductive wave. Warm, sweet breath coursed over him, making him achingly aware that it had been a long time since he’d been with Elizabeth.
In his heightened state, he realized he could finally understand what she was saying.
“Calm down my heart...don't beat so fast.” Although her lips did not move, he could hear her voice.
In his mind Will growled, “It’s not your heart, it does not belong to you.” She was displeased at his reaction and the intense pleasure switched to pain. He dropped back onto the bed, as his legs could no longer support him against her assault. He tried to wrest her hand away to no avail, he could not find purchase on her arm, and it was as if she was invisible.
“I love the sea, ‘n you be the sea, if only for a time.” Her blackened lips pursed slightly as she enjoyed watching him writhe before her. “Perhaps this will help,” she said.
Will felt an odd sensation, like breath being pulled from under his skin rather than through his mouth. Confused he lay, immobilized, watching as she took on Elizabeth’s appearance. Tentatively he reached up for her, this time able to feel her against his grasp. In a forceful movement, his fingers twisted in her hair, bringing her lips down upon his. She laughed, sounding oddly like Elizabeth when he’d found a certain ticklish place on the back of her neck. His senses muddled with, his actions were no longer his to command. With his lips and fingers, he sought out all the little places that once brought forth sighs from Elizabeth. His breath became ragged as her hands answered in kind, moving down and around his now hard cock. It was not the tentative flutters Elizabeth had showered on him, but harder, more sure movements. He pressed himself against her, digging his fingers into her hips, relishing the wetness he could feel from her on his thigh. She buried her head into the join of his neck and shoulder and he could feel her heart racing in an odd cadence. It was as if there was a slow, steady backbeat, joined by a faster, harried pulsing. The latter was distinctive as Elizabeth’s; he’d felt it whenever he held her close. He started to protest once more but fell silent as Calypso lowered herself onto him. Her spectral form faltered as she let out a needy moan. When he began moving with her, he ceased caring what vision he saw. In the moments where she had Elizabeth’s blonde locks and fine features, her pitch-dark eyes told differently. This was possession, a primal desire that had nothing to do with love; he kept this mantra running through his head. She countered his attempt at rationale it by leaning forward, allowing him room to stroke deep and hard. “Don’t be afraid,” her wordless whisper wrapped soothing tendrils around in his consciousness.
As their pace quickened his mind was flooded with various images; salty air, rain on skin, a wry smile, soft brown eyes, a babe in arms, and then a boy watching the horizon. He tried to slow down the influx, hoping to burn them into memory but they slipped away on each breath. In a last effort to regain control, he rolled their entwined bodies onto the floor. This created a crushing all-consuming force of energy where she resembled nothing, yet everything, and he felt himself shuddering as he spent himself inside her.
“No!” The hoarse cry finally dragged from the depths of his soul as the cabin about him careened wildly and then went black.
Hours later, he opened his eyes, briefly wondering why everything was sideways. Bootstrap was leaning over Will’s prostrate form, one hand extended. “What’s the matter boy, too much drink in you?”
Will grunted and used the offered hand to get to his feet. “Something like that.”
“This duty changes a man, makes him reflect, can even drive him to madness.”
Will appreciated Bootstrap’s attempt at fatherly advice, and gave a wan smile, “I’d expect nothing less.” Shrugging on his overcoat Will stepped out into a world as gray as what was settling in his mind.
Madness was not a word he would describe what he had just occurred. As he tried to make sense of it, his hand absently rubbed his chest as if trying to feel something. As before, there was nothing. Yet he knew he had felt his heart, and the racing pulses of both Elizabeth and Calypso. That memory reminded him that other areas of his body were not void of feeling. He looked skyward as if searching for an answer but saw nothing but threatening storm clouds. Collecting his thoughts, he felt a flash of anger at allowing himself to be used as her pawn. However, in a vulnerable moment she had shown him what he desired most; his wife, and his son.
Son. That thought gave him a chill. He had not meant for his choice to burden one so young. He began to understand what his father had said about taking Davy Jones’s place. As he reflected on his own fatherless childhood, the fear and doubt started to steal in. Would Elizabeth explain the truth to their child, making it clear that there was little choice? Ten years loomed large, not just for the pleasures his marital bed, but for the security in knowing his son was safe. He gritted his teeth against the welling sorrow and called out over the hazy expanse that engulfed them.
“If you harm either of them, you will forever regret it. Do not forget I AM the Sea!”
In a moment of fear, he held his breath, but there was nothing, only the calm lapping of the water against the hull. He laughed aloud, causing curious looks from some nearby crew. Now he was behaving like a madman, arguing with nothing. He found a twisted sense of amusement in the fact that his actions were not unlike those who called out to God before dying. Did they honestly expect a response or reprieve? He had yet to see that tactic work in anyone’s favor. The result was always the same, a soul that required ushering across to other side.
Will thought back on his first few nights as his father walked him through the process of assisting those who’d died at sea. Some were simply floating unaided, others were still clinging to whatever flotsam they’d happened upon moments before expiring. Will had expected the work to be backbreaking and macabre, but was unprepared for the assault on his spirit. As they tended to each soul, their tale whispered past on the breeze, full of sadness and longing of a life not complete. Perhaps, this was why Jones quit; the burden had been too much to bear. Sorrow a constant companion that permeated every thought and action to hold sway over their existence.
As months stretched on, his encounter with Calypso faded in with the other odd dreams. Every now and again, he swore he would hear a rushing pulse and whispers in his ear, but when he’d turn to look, it would dissipate.
Calm down my heart...