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At World's End: Redux 24/27
by Laura (fried_flamingo)
at August 10th, 2008 (09:13 pm)

Chapter 24

The world seemed strange when Cutler Beckett opened his eyes, paler and less vivid. Mist ghosted his vision, creeping in around the edges, and a fierce pain burned in his shoulder, but everything else was icy cold as if he’d frozen to the floor. He turned his head and the deck canted beneath him, the whole world spinning askew.

“Ah…he wakes.” The voice was distant, a bleak smudge through the fog – Jones, at the far end of the cabin. The door was closed now and Jones stood before it like a harbinger of death, the ferryman of the dead awaiting his cargo. A sudden terrible fear gripped Beckett, clutched at his chest and stole his breath; he heard his teeth start to chatter, felt his limbs spasm and shake. Death, death awaited. Now. Cold and dark and eternal—

“Easy, mate. Don’t fret.” A hand, the only piece of warmth in the world, came to rest on his shoulder. Beckett looked up and into the face of too many dreams and nightmares. Jack Sparrow smiled. “Thought you were a gonna.”

I am, he thought, feeling his lifeblood flow out of him with each thud of his heart. He blinked, but the world remained misty. “What—?”

Sparrow crouched lower, his long hair brushing against Beckett’s face. His voice was quiet, but urgent, eyes darting frequently toward Jones. “Don’t listen to what he says. Don’t—”

“Do you fear death?” The voice was cold as the sepulchre, cold as Beckett’s ailing flesh. “That dark abyss – all your deeds laid bare… All your sins punished.”

Sparrow’s hand on his shoulder tightened, drawing Beckett’s gaze back to his face. “It’s not death you should fear – Fiddler’s Green is still there for them what knows the way. Don’t listen.”

“Do you fear death, Cutler Beckett?”

His eyes were drawn to that demon face, his memory assaulted by a thousand wretched crimes – accusing eyes in the faces of men enslaved, the blank-eyed stare of the whores who could never satisfy, the sinful desire that burned even now when all else was ice. “Yes.” His answer came out a scratching whisper. “Yes, I fear death…”

“Listen, mate.” Sparrow’s fingers were on his face, turning it toward him, more gentle than he had any right to be. “I didn’t do right by you. I know it now and I never meant— I never thought— ” His gaze darted to Jones and back, fingers tightening against Beckett’s skin. “Can you forgive me?”

He choked in surprise, struggling to breathe through the catch in his throat. When he coughed, he could taste blood. “Forgive you…?”

“It’s not Jones what condemns a man to the Locker, but his own soul. Bitterness, anger, rage. Despair. They draw him close, keep him near.” Sparrow’s voice was urgent, his breath warm against Beckett’s cheek; beneath his failing body Beckett felt the deck shiver with Jones’ slow approach. “How long have you hated me?” Sparrow said. “Thirteen years?” His strong fingers turned Beckett’s face, forced him to watch Jones draw near. “See what two centuries of hate did? You don’t have to lock your heart in a box to become a monster.”

“Make your choice,” Jones said, standing like a giant of despair and casting Beckett in his wretched shadow. “The Locker awaits, lest you wish to delay that terrible day of judgement and serve one hundred years before the mast.”

All your deeds laid bare. All your sins punished…

He looked up at Sparrow, into that face which had so tortured him with pleasure and pain – had consumed him with rage, burned him with the need to make him pay! Almost tenderly, Sparrow laid a hand against his cheek. “I shouldn’t have done what I did, Cutler. Shouldn’t have used this against you.” He smiled, a mere twitch of his lips. “But I know what it tastes like now, and my fate was a worser one than yours. Nearly done for me it did, but in the end…” He smiled, and for a moment his thoughts were elsewhere, then his gaze grew sharp again. “I always was a pirate, mate, ’tis the nature of me black heart. Can you not forgive me for what I am?”

Beckett closed his eyes, pressed his cold face into the warm palm of the man he had hated for so long. Forgive him? Impossible, even now, and yet— He sensed movement, felt a brush of hair against his cheek, a quick breath, and then the long forgotten touch of lips pressed to his mouth – warm and tender with regret. “I’m sorry.”

Something stirred in his chest, something old and locked away for too long. “Jack…”

But Sparrow was torn away, flung against the wall in a tangle of limbs, and Jones’ sword was suddenly at Beckett’s throat. “Enough!” he growled. “The end has come. Choose! The Locker, or the Dutchman? Cutler Beckett, will ye serve…?”

Beckett closed his eyes and, for the first time in thirteen years, he prayed.


Though her head spun and fear spread thick in her throat, Elizabeth lay still as a corpse. From her position she could see neither man, but she could hear Will’s angry demands, Mercer’s cool scorn. She fought the impulse to grab the pistol that lay within her line of sight and blow a hole in the side of the bastard’s head. Elizabeth knew that it was imperative she choose her moment wisely and not submit to rash action. All she could hope was that Will wouldn’t kill Mercer before she got the chance.

But then the sounds of a scuffle and Will’s surprised cry told her that a more immediate threat had now presented itself. It was time to move.

Slowly, she turned her head and was relieved to see that Mercer was facing the other way; he remained unaware that she was awake. Her stomach lurched at the flash of the knife pressed against Will’s neck, and her panic grew when she saw the tiny trickle of blood that flowed from the shallow wound. If she made a sound, gave Mercer the smallest inkling of her intentions, the killing thrust through Will’s neck would be instantaneous. But Elizabeth refused to think on such possibilities while she retained the upper hand. She could end this, here and now. She had it in her power.

Reaching out towards the dropped pistol, she kept one eye on where Mercer had Will pressed against the wall. For a brief instant, she was sure that Will’s eye caught hers, but he betrayed nothing and instead spoke to his captor.

“You’ve had it all along. You have it here.”

Mercer laughed. “Yes, Mr Turner, very clever. But I’m afraid that this pound of flesh'll remain in my possession for the foreseeable future. See, that’s where you and me differ, son. You’d be quite happy to stab the thing and sail the seas forever, purely for the purposes of freeing a father who would’ve happily lived out his cursed days without seeing a hair on your head ever again.”

Elizabeth’s fingers curled around the butt of the gun.

“It’s the honourable thing to do,” said Will, and she knew that he was stalling.

“Again I feel the need to point out the difference between you and I.”

“And what alternative would you suggest?” asked Will, his voice surprisingly calm. He had seen her, she knew he had. Without a sound, Elizabeth rose to her feet, pistol gripped in her hand.

“Control, Mr Turner. Taking advantage of whatever avenue opens up to you. What a man can do and what a man can’t, son.” Elizabeth crept forward, eyes locked on the back of Mercer’s head.

Though she could only see half of his face, Elizabeth was sure she could make out a grin upon Will’s lips. “I’ve heard that advice at least twice before, and from better men than you. And they were kind enough to offer some additional wisdom - that, when taking advantage of the situation, one must always wait.”

“Is that right?” said Mercer. “Wait for what?”

“The opportune moment,” said Elizabeth, and pressed the pistol against the nape of Frederick Mercer’s neck.


Beckett lay bleeding upon the deck, shivering with fear and death’s cold approach, as Jones stood poised to claim the man’s soul.

Woozy from the blow that had slammed him into the bulkhead, Jack struggled to his feet. Beckett’s ashen lips were moving, he was speaking – or trying to – and Jack edged closer, hand on the hilt of his weapon. Faced with two fates worse than death, Jack felt obliged to give the man a better choice. He’d been complicit, after all, in Cutler Beckett’s transformation from trusting young officer to brutal tyrant; no doubt he’d been a wicked man these thirteen years past, but – given his own predisposition toward sin – Jack felt ill equipped to condemn him for it. After all, was not one act of forgiveness enough to undo a whole lifetimes of wickedness?

“Time’s running out!” Jones hissed. “The Locker—”

“Wait!” Beckett gasped, a pitiful choking sound. Blood ran freely from the corner of his mouth and Jack could still taste it upon his lips. “Wait…please.”

“Cutler.” Braced against the wall, Jack moved his hand to his waist.

Beckett’s eyes met his, pale as the predawn sky, and for a moment it seemed he was once more the eager young lieutenant Jack had known in those golden days, before either of them had tasted betrayal and the driving thirst for vengeance. Beckett’s eyes grew wide, with hope and then fear. “Help me…”

And Jack understood. Even as Jones reached for Beckett with his grotesque claw, Jack drew the pistol from his belt. The shot rang loud in the cabin, despite the noise of battle beyond, and hit its mark with brutal efficiency. Lord Cutler Beckett died with his eyes open.

Jones turned then, murder writ large across his rage-contorted face. “Jack Sparrow…!” He advanced like death itself, and Jack found himself thinking desperately of Lizzie. “Did you think to deprive me of my vengeance?” Jones spat. “You always were a fool.”

“Takes one to know one, eh?” But suddenly his back hit the bulkhead and he could retreat no further; Jones’ blade was at his throat. “Ah.”

Eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring, Jones smiled. “This time,” he breathed, a low threatening hiss, “there’ll be none to bring you back from the Locker. Oh, but don’t fret, I’ll make sure your pretty lass knows you’re gone before I give her to my crew.” He laughed, a brutal sound. “No choice for you, Sparrow. The Locker awaits, an eternity of punishment for your sins.” He drew back his blade and Jack jerked desperately to the side, but Jones’ claw pinned him to the bulkhead.

Jack knew this moment before death with a horrible intimacy, had felt the trapdoor give beneath his feet, yet this time it was worse. This time he had so much more to lose than his life. He closed his eyes. Elizabeth…

“Tut, tut.” The voice was cultured, sardonic. “These odds don’t seem quite fair, Captain Jones.”

Jack peered cautiously through one eye, to see Jones’ blade blocked by the impeccable steel of one Admiral James Norrington. “Commodore!” Jack exclaimed with sudden glee. “Bloody good timing, mate.”


When he saw Elizabeth shift, Will fought to keep his face impassive. This was an advantage they could not afford to lose. He hoped that his talking, combined with the low rumbling sounds of the battle, were enough to disguise Elizabeth’s movements, for if Mercer were to turn around….

Then Will heard the click of the pistol’s barrel and knew that Elizabeth now held the upper hand. “The opportune moment,” she said and a wide grin spread across his face. “Drop the knife, Mr Mercer, and raise your hands above your head.” Mercer complied and Will heard the clatter of the blade hitting the floor of the cabin. Elizabeth’s gaze met his. “Will?”

“I’m all right,” he replied, as he stooped to pick up the knife.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Miss Swann,” said Mercer.

“Yes.” Elizabeth frowned in mock consternation. “Yes, you have said that already, Mr Mercer. But at this precise moment, it’s a game that I seem to be winning. Now if you wouldn’t mind…” She pulled him by the shoulder and spun him round to face her, keeping the weapon trained on him at all times. Though her features remained deadpan and her hand did not shake, Will could see the fury that lit her eyes and knew what her intentions were for this man. Sure enough, an instant later the barrel of the gun was pressed tight against Mercer’s forehead, the force of which sent him staggering against the bulkhead. Elizabeth’s jaw clenched as her finger tightened on the trigger.

“Elizabeth, no!” cried Will.

She paused then, though grim determination remained writ on her face. “Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because he needs the heart,” said Mercer, his voice steady. If he was fearful of dying by Elizabeth’s hand then he hid it well. “And only I know where it is.”

One side of her mouth lifted in a sardonic smile. “You underestimate me, Mercer. And you overestimate your own cunning. The inner pocket of your coat is hardly the most inconspicuous hiding place.” She stepped back, keeping the gun levelled. Outside the battle still raged. “Will?”

Will stepped forward at her prompt, reaching carefully into Mercer’s coat, watching him closely all the while, lest he make a move. Reaching his fingers into the large pocket stitched into the fabric, an involuntary grunt of disgust left him as his fingers grazed something clammy and yielding.

“Not so pleasant, is it, Mr Turner, touching a human heart?”

Will held his eye for just a moment and said, “How sad that you should think so.” Then he closed his hand around the prize he had sought for so long. In his palm, it looked small and insignificant. That it should be of such importance to the fate of so many astounded him and, only now, as it pulsed between his fingers, did Will realise the true extent of what he must do. And the bile taste of it rose thick from his stomach. Slowly, his fingers pulled back his own coat, grazing across the rough-hewn knife tucked into his belt.

“And now…” hissed Elizabeth, and brought the pistol up to bear once more.

A blast ripped through the hull of the Dutchman, sending all three hurtling against the opposite wall. Something struck Will’s temple, stunning him and the heart fell from his grasp, sliding away amid the debris. Mercer’s eyes followed it and he scrambled forward after it, but then his gaze flicked to Elizabeth who was struggling to her feet, fingers still tight around the pistol. With a snarl, Mercer turned tail, running through the shower of timber fragments towards the door. Elizabeth moved to follow, but then she turned to Will in concern.

“Go!” he cried. “I’ll find the heart.” And so she ran, sprinting after the fleeing man, leaving Will searching through the pile of smoking wood.


To James Norrington it seemed that the entire force of the storm was focussed upon the deck of the Endeavour. Rain drove in horizontal sheets, and though he’d had the men take in canvas, the ship pitched like the devil.

It reminded him, sickeningly, of the hurricane that had destroyed the Dauntless, and with her his career. But this time it would be different, this time he would save his crew, save his ship, and restore his honour. “To me!” he yelled, as Sparrow and Jones spilled from the Great Cabin, the duck and weave of their fight barely hampered by the lash of the storm. “Marines! To me. Jones must not escape!”

But it was difficult to make himself heard over the roar of the wind and the thunder of cannon fire, and the air was thick with tarry smoke that washed into a filthy rain, coating everything with soot and grime. Uniforms, faces and sails were all grey, a colour suited to the cries and screams of war as the Endeavour’s crew did battle with the creatures of the Dutchman. But her wicked guns were turned away now, under fire from the Pearl, and they had some respite.

Groves came sliding to a halt next to him, Gillette at his heel, both breathless and bloodied. “Sir!” Groves shouted. “Orders?”

Norrington wiped rain and blood from his face, ignoring the pounding pain in his head. “It seems that Sparrow has a plan.”

Groves smiled, his admiration plain. “Jack Sparrow always has a plan.”

“The pirate?” Gillette’s nose wrinkled in distaste. “Are we to take orders from pirates now?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Norrington muttered through gritted teeth, struggling to keep his feet as the ship pitched in the huge seas. “Jones must not be allowed to return to his ship. We must give Turner a chance.”

“A chance to do what?”

“To end this evil, for good.”

Gillette glanced past him, toward the Great Cabin. His tone was suspicious. “Where’s Lord Beckett?”

Following his gaze, James considered his answer – the oddly tender scene he’d witnessed between Beckett and Sparrow explained much, but it was a truth that would never pass his lips. A man was entitled to take his secrets to the grave. “With God,” he said. If he’s lucky. “I’m in command now.”


If the Flying Dutchman was the embodiment of her captain, then the furious thrashing of the sea surely signified the unleashed rage of Calypso. Upon Elizabeth’s first crossing from England so long ago, their vessel had endured a violent storm that had almost scuppered them, but never before had she witnessed anything so savage or primal as the forces that threatened to swallow the ship and pound her rotten bones into driftwood.

Elizabeth, however, gave no thought to death or drowning, for in those frantic moments her purpose was singular; she knew no truth other than her desire to watch Frederick Mercer’s throat split open on the edge of her blade. The deck was almost deserted of crew, and so he was easy to spot as he staggered toward the rail, his progressed hampered by the violent dipping and swaying of the ship on the tumultuous ocean.

With a roar, Elizabeth ran towards him, feet sliding on the slime-coated deck, bringing her in a rapid skid to within a few feet of Mercer’s back. He spun just in time to parry her blow and then swung his sword towards her middle. She blocked, dancing back, feet lighter than his, giving her a temporary advantage as she ducked and twirled, avoiding his attack, but more than once feeling the whisper of the blade graze her hair or her skin. Mercer was relentless though and Elizabeth felt herself tire under the unyielding rain and the constant clashing of her sword with his. Parrying another of his strikes, she stumbled against the rail and went crashing to the deck, her sword almost useless in her numb fingers. Mercer advanced, but just as it seemed he had her trapped between himself and the ship’s rail, she lashed out, plunging her blade into his side; a cry of agony escaped him as he fell backwards, lying prone upon the deck.

As he lay there, Elizabeth jumped to her feet, eager to keep the advantage, but suddenly her eye was caught by the scene playing out by the door of the cabin. Will had emerged, staggering with the motion of the ship, and in his hand was the pulsing heart of Davy Jones. Elizabeth watched, horror spreading like a bloodstain on linen, when she saw that in his other hand he clutched his father’s knife. He raised his head and their eyes locked. Though the rain coursed across his face, Elizabeth knew that he wept. His fate lay in his hands and she understood now that he would not turn back. From the corner of her eye, she saw one of the crew lumbering towards him. Not a man, not a man anymore, but a shambling gargoyle with arms outstretched, perhaps eager to reclaim the heart of the captain to whom it had pledged its service. She looked at Will again, tried to shake her head, to move towards him…

There’s always another way.

… but her limbs were frozen and she could only watch as Will, too, noticed the beast who approached and raised the knife over the heart. It had to be now, before anything could prevent him. Elizabeth opened her mouth to scream, to shout for him to stop, but her cry wouldn’t come and the next sound she heard was the sickening sound of metal through flesh.

For one dreamlike moment, she thought that everything had stopped, for she could hear nothing but the rattle of her own ragged breath inside her head. She looked down and saw the blade of a sword, shining red, pointing out from the fresh wound. She touched her hand to it, thinking it strange that she felt no pain, and then slowly looked over her shoulder at the steely eyes of Mercer, his hand still gripping the hilt.

The pain came when he pulled the sword free, and she gagged, stumbling backwards against the rail.

Mercer approached and leaned in to whisper in her ear. “It seems, Miss Swann, that you haven’t learned enough,” he said. And then he pushed. But even as she fell, Elizabeth knew that she could yet claim a victory. Her fists balled into Mercer’s collar and she held on tight, watching the fear blossom in his eyes as she pulled him into the furious sea below.

In death, she would have her vengeance.



Page 1 of 2[1][2]
Posted by: kenton_bomb (kenton_bomb)
Posted at: August 10th, 2008 09:16 pm (UTC)

I don’t know why, but from the icon I get the impression this might be the last we see of my [now] beloved Lord Beckett. :’( But I won’t post this yet, don’t want a repeat of last time when I accidentally read the last line.

Now, on to the story – a welcome break from my own writing and the hamster’s incessant banging against walls and other such obstacles.

Beckett looked up and into the face of too many dreams and nightmares.

That was a lovely line to sum up Beckett’s feelings about Jack.

Jack Sparrow smiled. “Thought you were a gonna.”

Aww, bless ‘im. Good man indeed, he still cares despite everything that’s happened.

I am, he thought, feeling his lifeblood flow out of him with each thud of his heart.

Aww, some more.

Sparrow crouched lower, his long hair brushing against Beckett’s face.

Are you sure you two really ship Sparrabeth?

He sensed movement, felt a brush of hair against his cheek, a quick breath, and then the long forgotten touch of lips pressed to his mouth – warm and tender with regret. “I’m sorry.”

Something stirred in his chest, something old and locked away for too long. “Jack…”

I hate you two! This is so brilliant, yet I never would have thought it would be...if that makes sense lol. But it’s also so sad :(

All she could hope was that Will wouldn’t kill Mercer before she got the chance.

She really hates him don’t she? Then again who doesn’t? And she does have very good reason to.

“The opportune moment,” said Elizabeth, and pressed the pistol against the nape of Frederick Mercer’s neck.

Aww, good Lizzie. And Will too, I suppose you deserve a pat on the back.

Lord Cutler Beckett died with his eyes open.

Aww, poor Beckett. But at least he got to be killed in a much more better way. And poor Jack too :( ...and poor me, since you made me like him so. [I’m never gonna let this go, you know]

and Jack found himself thinking desperately of Lizzie.

Oh yes, back to my love of Sparrabeth. Quick Lizzie, come save him...or send the whelp I don’t care!

This time he had so much more to lose than his life. He closed his eyes. Elizabeth…

Don’t die...AGAIN!?!?! Where are you Liz’beth?

“Commodore!” Jack exclaimed with sudden glee. “Bloody good timing, mate.”

I second that notion! I can settle for our dear James any day, especially if he’s saving our even more dear Jack. As long as you don’t go make me obsessed with Jack/James this time. Grr! [I would have done an evil face but I don’t know how...so imagine...or something...]

“Elizabeth, no!” cried Will.
Don’t stop her! What is this?!?! Will/Mercer now? Lol. You like to branch out you two don’t you?

“Not so pleasant, is it, Mr Turner, touching a human heart?”

No, I can’t imagine it is Mr Mercer. I do like how you’ve put this line in, I don’t think I’ve seen anyone mention it before but surely it would be a big issue?!?

Groves smiled, his admiration plain. “Jack Sparrow always has a plan.”

That he does, that he does. Is it just me or are you intentionally doing this? But now I’m thinking Jack/Groves. I’m sure Jack gets around, but not this much?!?

Elizabeth opened her mouth to scream, to shout for him to stop, but her cry wouldn’t come and the next sound she heard was the sickening sound of metal through flesh.

I’m not sure whether to be happy or sad for Will...well, it was what he wanted I suppose...

The pain came when he pulled the sword free, and she gagged, stumbling backwards against the rail.

Oh no!!! Don’t die Lizzie! We love you too much.

Her fists balled into Mercer’s collar and she held on tight, watching the fear blossom in his eyes as she pulled him into the furious sea below.

Yay, Lizzie.

In death, she would have her vengeance.

Not yay, cliffhanger.

Posted by: kenton_bomb (kenton_bomb)
Posted at: August 10th, 2008 09:17 pm (UTC)

I believe I just copied out the whole of that chapter lol. And of course the inevitable must be said, that was brilliant as always I can’t wait for Wednesday.

You write battle scenes so brilliantly, it was like I was at the cinemas watching it all play out...yet more real than that even. You two should like win an Oscar or something, I don’t care what as long as it’s something good because you sure as hell deserve it. Even if you are evil and try to make me like all this other ships.

I’m going to go write you an angry letter and then a letter suggesting you get made Dame Sally and Dame Laura by the Queen or something, whilst waiting for Wednesday. I do hope this comment isn’t too long...but alas it was GRR!

But on the up side, I got to be first commentor!!! :D

Posted by: Laura (fried_flamingo)
Posted at: August 10th, 2008 10:30 pm (UTC)

Posted by: Claudia Mary Gacrux (cmgacrux)
Posted at: August 10th, 2008 09:32 pm (UTC)

Loved it.

Posted by: Laura (fried_flamingo)
Posted at: August 10th, 2008 10:26 pm (UTC)

Thank you! :)

Posted by: ((Anonymous))
Posted at: August 10th, 2008 09:33 pm (UTC)

First of all, I just wanted to admit that I'm normally one of those fic!lurkers who just keep on inhaling sparrabeth pieces without ever saying anything.

Well, that was until now, when after refreshing repeatedly on Redux's main page waiting for the link to this chapter to come out so I could read it. I've been following the story since it came out in May. =)

I'm just so blown away by the quality of writing that I had to comment on it, even without an LJ account ... this was just everything that I hoped AWE would be ...

My state of mind right now is pretty much hovering in the tired delirium zone, so I'll just slink right back before I say anything silly =P

Lovely, wonderful work, you two.

- C

Posted by: Laura (fried_flamingo)
Posted at: August 10th, 2008 10:26 pm (UTC)
Re: Guh!

Well thank you so much for taking the time to post a comment. We really appreciate it!

I'm so pleased that you've followed the story nd i's good to know that you've been enjoying it. I hope you enjoy the final chapters too :D

Posted by: The Deep Blue Ocean (creativeideas)
Posted at: August 10th, 2008 09:36 pm (UTC)

Wow this was more exciting than the previous part, I loved every word of it :D - particularly the Jack/Beckett. I loved how you have written their back story so well and the ending of it was sad and moving too. I am not converted to requited Speckett but I did feel sorry for him and he's normally a character I love to hate :-)

I am so worried about Lizzie :(( that was a great cliff hanger by the way -can't wait to read more :D

Posted by: Laura (fried_flamingo)
Posted at: August 10th, 2008 10:22 pm (UTC)

Thank you so much. I'm glad you enjoyed the Jack/Beckett (even though it's not your preferred pairing) as we did feel that it was a character arc we needed to resolve properly. I'm pleased that you though it worked.

More to come next chapter on LIzzie's fate! :)

Posted by: ((Anonymous))
Posted at: August 10th, 2008 09:38 pm (UTC)

I think your summary is misleading, shouldn't it be pairing: Jack/Beckett with elements of Jack/Elizabeth and Will/Elizabeth? To be honest this fics looks to me like a Jack/Beckett fic in disguise. Must admit I feel cheated, I thought it was a Jack/Elizabeth & Elizabeth/Will fic instead it's Jack/Beckett, the one pairing I really can't stand.

Posted by: Laura (fried_flamingo)
Posted at: August 10th, 2008 10:17 pm (UTC)

Out of interest, have you read the previous chapters of this story?

Posted by: ((Anonymous))
Posted at: August 11th, 2008 12:16 pm (UTC)

Posted by: Laura (fried_flamingo)
Posted at: August 11th, 2008 06:03 pm (UTC)

Posted by: ((Anonymous))
Posted at: August 11th, 2008 06:55 pm (UTC)

Posted by: Laura (fried_flamingo)
Posted at: August 11th, 2008 07:08 pm (UTC)

Posted by: Cristine Sans H (pktaxwench)
Posted at: August 10th, 2008 09:55 pm (UTC)
Norry bullshit demands explain

So, I was just thinking earlier today that I'd not seen any updates to Redux on my F-list, because it hadn't been posted to pirategasm for a while. (July 23 was the last I could find, to be exact.)

Bored, online, I went looking. Afterall, while the characters are terribly OOC, it's an interesting rewrite. I've had hours of entertainment reading it and wondering what people smoke sitting at their computers to come up with it. (And wondering where I can get some. )

Did you all get yourselves banned? Reading through the comments of several posts, and posts outside there, you Sparrabethers deserve it. You should be ashamed of yourselves. This level of intolerance and hatred towards others views, well, I've only seen come out of the Middle East and the Islamic religion.

You all can write, and write well, that I will acknowledge. But the hate you spew forth towards other fans of this fandom, with Redux being the leading charge, it seems.... it's disgusting. I won't miss not reading it in the future.

Hope you all are happy.

Posted by: Laura (fried_flamingo)
Posted at: August 10th, 2008 10:16 pm (UTC)

Thank you so much for your comment. Interesting that you should seek out a story for which you harbour such negative feelings.

I'd like to answer a few of your comments. First of all, we have not been banned from anywhere. If you're referring to pirategasm, we left that community as the atmosphere did not seem condusive to further enjoyment of the fandom.

Secondly, I would be interested to know exactly what it is that we're supposed to be ashamed of. Are you implying that we are guilty of actions akin to terrorism? Would you be able to point us in the direction of these hate-filled posts that Sal and I have apparently made? A link would be most appreciated as our collective memories fail us at the moment.

I'm also interested to hear further details on why you think Redux is our way of spewing hate at other fans. Would you mind quoting any particular passage that you feel is particularly venomous?

Lastly, thank you so much for your compliments on our writing skills, and to answer your query, we are very happy. Thank you so much for enquiring :)

Posted by: alana1079 (alana1079)
Posted at: August 10th, 2008 10:17 pm (UTC)

Posted by: alana1079 (alana1079)
Posted at: August 10th, 2008 10:21 pm (UTC)
Captain Sparrow

In death, she would have her vengeance.

Well, to quote myself upon finishing this update, good grief.

I really don't know how you two manage it. You've done such a good job thus far that when you top yourself all I can manage is a shake of my head and a smile. Well done. This, along with the chapter in which Jack sacrificed himself, is probably my favorite chapter of the story so far. It's just superb work, ladies. Thank you for the tenth time for sharing with us.

Posted by: Laura (fried_flamingo)
Posted at: August 10th, 2008 10:44 pm (UTC)

Oh thank you so much! It's good to know that we're having an impact with the key scenes and that you're enjoying the story.

Only 3 chapters to go :( I hope you enjoy reading them as much as we enjoyed writing them!

Posted by: Bell B. (bellbubble)
Posted at: August 10th, 2008 11:10 pm (UTC)

Fab chapter!! So many cliffhangers, action, tension... Guh!feelings-that-make-you-eager-for-more! :)) You're really superb writers!!
You've positively turned me into a Speckett shipper: I nearly cried when dear Lord Beckett died - the best character death I'm yet to read, can't even begin to describe how perfectly written it is, in every possible sense.
I know I usually play the spoiled child about this, but I'm afraid you'll have to hear me whining again: *please* don't kill Lizzie or Will... Cutty dead already broke my heart enough (by any chance, was the Dutchman crewmember above mentioned Bill? Just wondering...). You could kill Mercer, though. T'would brighten us fans' day ;)
Counting hours 'til Wednesday!! xD

Posted by: Laura (fried_flamingo)
Posted at: August 11th, 2008 06:09 pm (UTC)

Yey for Speckett! lol I'm really pleased that you found that scene convincing, as it was so important in resolving the Jack/Beckett arc.

As for your speculation... my lips are sealed *evul laugh* But I do hope you enjoy the final three chapters!

Thank you, as always, for your lovely comments.

Posted by: kenton_bomb (kenton_bomb)
Posted at: August 11th, 2008 12:51 am (UTC)

I just read the comments for this chapter and I have to say I'm pretty appalled with some of them.

If you don't like something then you give constructive criticism or you don't say anything. You don't go slagging off somebody else's fandom, and accusing them of things that they haven't done - but you yourself have.

Anyway i won't get started on this, I'm sure everyone else who reads this religously every week will back me up on this; you two are brilliant writers, this is a brilliant story, and pairings have nothing to do with it, as I've said before you've opened my eyes to pairings I'd never have considered before. Anyhoo, you continue writing these fantastic stories and I can promise you'll at least get one positive commentor lol.

Posted by: Laura (fried_flamingo)
Posted at: August 11th, 2008 06:12 pm (UTC)

Thank you so much for your comment, hun, but seriously pay it no mind. As long as we have lovely feedback from people like you who are enjoying the story (or even civil comments from people who perhaps aren't enjoying it so much) then we're happy!

Thank you again for your support :)

Posted by: djarum99 (djarum99)
Posted at: August 11th, 2008 02:50 am (UTC)

This fic has reduced me to "fire bad, tree pretty" incoherence - blessings on Joss Whedon for his contributions to the cultural idiom. My all time favorite, of course, being "insane troll logic" (BTVS, Season 5, episode 11)*g*

Something stirred in his chest, something old and locked away for too long. “Jack…”

I loved the scene with Jack and Beckett, and their resolution. Elizabeth and Will are both wonderful here, fierce and fighting together. And Norrington!-

“Tut, tut.” The voice was cultured, sardonic. “These odds don’t seem quite fair, Captain Jones.”

I can absolutely hear him in this, snarky and spot-on.

A fabulous cliff-hanger ending - can't wait for the next chapter. (And I've already read it!) Brava, love - champagne and roses ♥ ♥ ♥

Edited at 2008-08-11 02:52 am (UTC)

Posted by: Laura (fried_flamingo)
Posted at: August 11th, 2008 06:13 pm (UTC)

Yey for the Joss Love! (and his quotes can be used for almost any situation, eh? ;))

So glad the suspense is working, even when you know what's coming!


(Deleted comment)
Posted by: Laura (fried_flamingo)
Posted at: August 11th, 2008 06:14 pm (UTC)

Thank you for such a lovely comment!

Plenty more to unfold in the remaining chapters ;)

Posted by: wicked and astute (cortie)
Posted at: August 11th, 2008 04:35 am (UTC)
shark hug

Okay, today is just too much for my brain.

I've just finished watching the US men's relay team SQEAAAAK by the French and screamed myself horse, then I pick up my laptop and find new Redux and you give me this cliffhanger?!?!?

My fragile psyche can't take it. It's awesome overload.

At least this week I have the Olympics to occupy myself with until Wednesday.

Love you both immensely.

Posted by: Laura (fried_flamingo)
Posted at: August 11th, 2008 06:16 pm (UTC)

first of all LOLZ at your icon!

Secondly, Michael Phelps *fangirls*

Thirdly, thank you! :D

Glad the cliffhanger got you all in suspense and I hope you enjoy the pay off :)

Thank you so much for your lovely comments throughout our posting of the story :)

Posted by: lady_linnet (lady_linnet)
Posted at: August 11th, 2008 04:56 am (UTC)
sparrabeth because:


Whoa. The Jack/Beckett scene was amazing, as was the end. And everything between. But especially those two.

*flails more*

Posted by: Laura (fried_flamingo)
Posted at: August 11th, 2008 06:18 pm (UTC)

I love it when we make a fangirl flail, heehee!

Poor Beckett, he had so many demons, but I'm glad you think we gave him and Jack a proper storyline.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read and comment, as always! :)

Posted by: Anne (ladyofthesilent)
Posted at: August 11th, 2008 06:08 am (UTC)

I love you for taking this a completely different road than probably expected by most. So many surprises in this chapter, I don't even know where to start!

First of all, don't worry about the Speckett! It's fabulously done and a wonderful addition to the story. The pairing as written here feels real to me, even though my own take on it has always been a little different (for issues having nothing to do with this fic or even fandom). The tender moment between them was so sad, and Im so happy you made them - finally - forgive each other. So Davy Jones was bereft of yet another victory by love and forgiveness. This is a message I can wholeheartedly agree with. I like it, no matter what others might think about it. And having said that: J/E doesn't mean both characters are forbidden to have past relationships! There has always been a rather weird tendency in this fandom to write them as each other's first and only love. To be honest, I've never seen that. Elizabeth loved/loves Will, and considering Jack's age, it would be VERY unlikely to assume he's never had any relationships other than with prostitutes. So I still believe your take on the matter is highly realistic and well written.

The ending of this chapter kind of shocked me. So Elizabeth is actually dead? One can always hope there's still a way out, though, I suppose (especially with Will actually stabbing the heart). Loved the cliffhanger :)

Posted by: Laura (fried_flamingo)
Posted at: August 11th, 2008 06:27 pm (UTC)

*shrugs* To be honest, the stupid comments like that one are few and far between. In fact I think that has been the first wanky one we've received. We've had a few negative comments, but for the most part they've been direct but courteous - can't say fairer than that.

And besides the lovely comments we've received more than make up for it :)

I think both Sal and I surprised ourselves with our Jack/Beckett love, but it's just such a fascinating dynamic (incidentally I'd be very interested to hear your take on that relationship, in fic or even meta). It's a relief that most people have enjoyed that aspect of the story, even those who didn't like the pairing previously.

I don't think it's at all feasible to ignore the fact that both Jack and Elizabeth have loved others in the past. And Elizabeth most certainly still loves Will, if not in a romantic/passionate sense, so it's impossible to write a believable story, on a broad scale like this, without dealing with those other relationships. I'm so glad you feel we've succeeded on that score.

The ending...hmmm, I'm saying nothing ;) Just tune in on wednesday for more action *g*

Posted by: .rachel. (whensheflies)
Posted at: August 11th, 2008 06:15 am (UTC)
PIRATES beckett is sexx

Can I reiterate just once more how I adore this story so much more than the movie? You've taken the story and made it infinitely better. Each character gets a story they deserved. I found myself grinning when Elizabeth and Will overcame Mercer with Jack's "opportune" speech and when Norrington showed up just in time.

It's all just perfect. And it kills me it's almost over.

the Jack/Beckett end was everything I ever wanted and more. Poor little bugger. :)

Posted by: Laura (fried_flamingo)
Posted at: August 11th, 2008 06:28 pm (UTC)

Oh thank you so much, hun! I'm so pleased that we've managed to keep you reading, and that you're enjoying the action in these final chapters.

Poor Beckett, eh? *hugs him*

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