Song in Red and Gray-Chapter 38
Title: Song in Red & Gray-Chapter 38: Future
Author: ophelivia
Rating: R-NC17
Word Count: 18,530
Pairing: Beckett/OC, James/OC
Characters: James/Rose
Summary: "Do just what I tell you and no one will get hurt." A series of vignettes spanning both films.
Status: In-Progress
Disclaimer: I don't own the Pirates characters. Rose is mine, but I should mention that she began in an RPG over on fanfiction.net. This story has nothing to do with the plot of that game. The prompts for each chapter are from 50_smutlets.
Warnings: Power plays, S&M, emotional manipulation, prostitution and implied slash. The chapters will go in no real order. I'm picking the prompts at random.
Hey y'all! I'm back, finally. So going back to school for a new term in four days so I wanted to pretend this vacation was as productive as I wanted it to be. You know what that means: new chapter! This one took a while to get right (you'll understand why.) Please keep reading! Earlier chapters: here
2-46: Future
“What will happen if we’re caught?”
Before the Mercer scare James had been lying in her bed. The question murmured against her hair. Rose could’ve laughed but she didn’t.
“When we’re caught, James.”
She pulled away, though his hands bid her stay. His eyes large and troubled. He didn’t want this to be the truth.
“James, you know as well as I do that we can’t hide from him. That we’ve done it this long is God’s grace. It’s only because his mind’s been taken over with this pirate bullocks. He’s not thinking of us, but it’s a matter of time.”
Her voice got rough at the end of this assertion, as it always did when she said harsh things to him. It was how James knew the anger wasn’t real. He pulled her back to him. She closed her eyes, but he persisted.
“What will happen?”
She sighed, turned her head and kissed the parted, anxious mouth.
“I don’t want to talk of him,” she whispered.
If she kept kissing him he’d shut up. When they fucked, they could both forget. That’s why she kept him. It was dangerous, but it was all she had. Tonight though, James wouldn’t have it.
“What will happen?” he persisted.
“James, please…not now.”
She left the bed, sitting down at her unsteady little vanity. Her back was to him. She saw him peripherally. Rose began to viciously yank the tangles in her hair with her brush. They would not give. She threw it down with a bang.
“God damn it!” she swore, as if it were the object’s own fault, but made no move to reach down. James sat up, his confusion somewhat mingling with dread.
“Why are you acting like this?”
Because she had answered this question herself. Because Rose hated the future as much as the past. Because she didn’t want to tell him. His voice punctured her thoughts.
“Rose!”
“What?” she hissed, still not looking.
He came to her. The stool made an ugly noise as he turned it towards him. Still she would not face his gaze, like a stubborn child refusing to eat food.
“You’re scaring me,” he said sternly.
She looked at him at last. James jerked. Rose’s eyes were wide, staring, but the fear was raw. His hands dropped away. She thought she might take flight. Rose drifted to the window, looked at the past-midnight sky. Dark. Hot. Breathless.
“You want to know?” she asked in monotone. “You want to know what I’ll do, James? I’m going to save my own hide, that’s what. I’m going to say whatever I have to say to make it out alive. I’m going to leave you to yourself.”
It was how Rose said this; with her back turned to him, in a voice of measured quiet. This was not the typical fiery rage he so often earned. This was puppetry. James heard Lord Beckett from Rose’s mouth.
“You…you don’t mean that,” he murmured. Hands tightened on the windowsill. “You can’t.”
“I do.”
He felt like he was running as he crossed the room. Gently touched her shoulders. She’d never allow an embrace. James was talking very quickly.
“I understand you feel you’ve got to say these things, you know. I understand you’re afraid-”
“I’m not afraid of anything.”
She lied to herself. Her voice got softer as his got louder.
“But you know what, it’s all right! We’ll be all right, I promise you. We can find a way to protect ourselves. I can protect you!”
“I never asked that of you,” Rose whispered. And I never will.
Now he was holding onto her. Hard. His fingertips pressing very hard into her arms. She couldn’t see his face, but when he next spoke voice split. Rose shut her eyes, bit her lip, prayed. If he shed tears on her account she’d have to scream at him. She didn’t want to. Promised not to. James kept going, more and more frantic as minutes passed.
“Your, your life has been very hard,” he babbled. “You’ve been through things…things I can’t even imagine what with your…” He swallowed, “your family. You’ve always been alone.”
Rose hated this. She wanted this to stop.
“But Rose, do not shake me off now. Not after this, not after all this time and risk. I am not going to leave you.”
She found her way out of his grip, tilting his face so he would truly see her eyes. James’s throat closed, shocked at the sheer emptiness that flooded her. Voice as still as frozen water.
“Maybe not, but I’m going to leave you.”
James looked at her sadly for a time.
“We won’t talk about this anymore,” he said, stony determination in his voice. “Because you sound like him. You sound too much like him.”
Is it possible to be frightened by lack of fear? She knew he was right.
They stared at each other, and then, weakly, without strength, she fell into his arms. Rose wanted to cry. Instead she heard sounds like sobs, but there were no tears.
“It’s all right,” James whispered. “We’ll be all right.”
He led her to bed by the hand. The gentle touch made her feel wicked. The strong arms were a curse. These arms had held the sword, had steered the ship to make it sing. Where was all that strength now, Rose wondered? Why were the arms cradling her as if they needed her?
She had not been lying. She would do to him exactly what she said when the time came. She had to.
James breathed deeply at her back, and when he shut his eyes she felt dark lashes graze the back of her neck. He snuggled into her, his lips resting unconsciously on her shoulder. An endless kiss that Rose would never wriggle out of.
Betrayal was a window. A small fissure of light. It was hard, and might well get her nothing at all, but in point of fact giving James up to Cutler was the only choice she had. There was no other way to even attempt survival.
James shifted in his sleep. Across her stomach, chords of muscle in his arm rippled. A powerful man. He was afraid now, holding on to her for support; but once she pulled the brace away he might end up saving them both. Power was not the same as spirit. Power was never snuffed out. Dogs bit their masters every day.
But the dog that tastes blood gets put down.