Drown
He cannot breathe.
Luckily, he doesn't need to.
The moon filters through the indigo deep, and he hates to look at the places it touches him.
He fills his endless existence with fantasy, and the occasional, wistful longing for rum.
He cannot breathe.
He cannot breathe, and suddenly, he needs air.
He is drowning, and he thrashes against his fetters.
"Will?"
He wakes, drenched in sweat, his wife's legs tangled in his.
"Will," she murmurs into his throat. "Were you dreaming again?"
He gulps for air, remebering the panic of his nightmare. "I was drowning."
The bed dips. A rougher body aligns with his, and a rougher voice answers. "A common dream, lad." Jack's arms loop around his waist. "At least you know how to swim."
"I did," he sighs. "In the dream, I did, but--"
Elizabeth's lips brush against his. "Hush, Will." She strokes his arm. "It's over." Arches into him, and Jack presses from behind, growling.
"I couldn't breathe."
"And how," Jack asks, "is that any different from now?" Drags teeth against his shoulder.
Will acquieses with a moan, and allows his wife and his captain their ministrations.
This drowning, at least, comes with pleasure, and he soon falls to slumber again.
He cannot breathe, and he doesn't need to.
The moon filters through the indigo deep, and he sees something he never noticed before.
His chains, binding him to the ocean floor with their weight, have begun to rust.
He cannot breathe, but he smiles.