Sometimes life doesn't make sense. There are times it does, times you look out onto the water and think; this is where I am meant to be. This time Ana looked out at the vast expanse of waves and sky, and she thought, what is the meaning of all this?
Jack lounged on the forecastle deck using a large heap of rope as a cushion. He went through the trouble of arranging it and he seemed to find a comfortable position, because in the last few hours Ana witnessed him move only twice.
Once, was to get his self a bottle of rum. The second was to get his self another bottle of rum. Even for Jack, the amount was excessive.
She was just about to mention it to him when she realized something else. When did she appoint herself his keeper? When did it happen that she turned from a friend to a … a nanny? They were friends before they were lovers, and as his friend, she considered him an idiot sometimes, but she never tried to change him. Since the growth of their relationship from friends to lovers, she began to notice a distinct change in her own self, and she didn't like it one bit.
Jack never changed. In all the years she knew him, one thing could be counted on, Jack would be Jack. Ana Maria on the other hand, felt like she existed in a constant state of flux. Each day she brought into herself new experiences and new ideas, and how could she help but make them a part of herself?
Since finding love, Ana learned how to fear. Every time Jack left the ship without her, every time the Pearl took on a new plunder, a heavy knot of dread deposited itself right on top of her heart. She knew Jack took risks, he would go to great lengths to ensure the safety of someone else, but when it came to Jack taking care of Jack, he wasn't so attentive. The day would come when he'd get himself into something more than he could handle, and what then? Did it occur to him that he was not the only one at stake? Did it occur to him how much the thought of losing him scared her?
No, he wouldn't think of any of those things, because he's Jack. Captain Jack Sparrow, scourge of the Caribbean. Therefore, if Jack would not take care of himself, Ana would do it for him. That was what she did now.
And it had to stop. Ana was never meant to be a mother; especially to her forty year old pirate lover.
It would stop today. She glanced at Jack one more time, the second bottle of rum nearly emptied within only a couple hours span, and she reined in the urge to be at his side. She would not ask him what was wrong. She would not insist on him telling her his troubles. If he wanted to talk, he could damn well come to her and ask her to listen!
Yes. That was exactly what she planned to do.