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Summary: You finally drift back to consciousness, to discover a sleepless Morgan sitting by your bedside. He demands to know why you would sacrifice yourself for him…and your answering confession leaves him shocked to the very tips of his boots. The only question is whether he returns your feelings…and if so, whether he'll finally dare to allow himself a chance at happiness.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: And that's a wrap for Captain Morgan and the Listener...at least for now! As usual, thank you to all of y'all for continuing to read, comment, and post fills. Without you, posting these scripts would just be shouting into the void! Cheers, and Happy New Year <3 ~Savvy

Usage:

• OK to record & monetize, as long as you give me credit in the video/audio description as the scriptwriter! I would also love to listen to the recording when it’s done–please send me the link on Reddit! Paywalling is okay; however, if you paywall, you must make it possible for me to listen to the finished product.
• Gender-flipping and small tweaks are okay (e.g., changing pronouns, leaving out/changing curse words), but no large edits are permitted.
• Feel free to use music or insert sound effects if you’d like. Any sound effects given are suggestions–use at your discretion. *Sound effects in bold, set apart by asterisks\*
• Any dialogue or reactions given by the Listener are purely for the benefit of the VA, to help them feel like they have something to respond to while they’re acting. Listener reactions in italics.
• Please let me know if you have any questions!

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\Morgan’s muffled voice fades in\**

Angelfish!? Angelfish! Are ye awake? Can ye hear me!? Come on, now; don’t be playin’ with me! Say somethin’! Please!

[...]

Aye; it’s me. How are you feelin’? Can you move at all?

The Listener nods.

Are you sure? (relieved exhale) Thank the gods! For a while there, I thought—well, nevermind. You’re safe now—that’s what matters.

[...]

Hmm? Oh, me wound? Aaargh, don’t be afeared. It’s just a scratch. I’ve had far worse. More importantly, what the hell were you thinkin’ back there!? Why would you—

The Listener suddenly tries to sit up. Morgan breaks off, confused.

—Huh? What in blazes are ye doin’?

The Listener says they want to heal him.

Like hell you’re gonna heal me! You’re still recoverin’! You need to get yourself well first!

[...]

No—don’t you dare! Lie back down.

[...]

I said, lie down, damn it! I’m not about to lose you again!

The Listener finally lies back down.

(exhales) That’s better. Here—have some water.

\Optional—clinking of a cup, pouring water\**

Now, as I was sayin’—what in the name o’ the great Davy Jones were you thinkin’, offerin’ yourself up to Barlow like that!? Do you have any idea what he would’ve done to ye!?

[...]

Aye; I know I could’ve died, but it’s nothin’ less than I deserve! Besides, seein’ you in the clutches o’ that devil—even just the thought of it—gods, I’d rather have died a thousand times. The point is, don’t you ever try and pull a stunt like that again; understand? I’m not worth it!

[...]

That’s where you’re wrong, lass. If it weren’t for me, you’d never have crossed paths with that devil to begin with.

[...]

Huh? Oh, no; no. It’s alright, lass. It’s alright. It’s over. He won’t be troublin’ us anymore.

[...]

Aye. He’s gone where there’s no comin’ back. Dread King or not, no one could survive lightnin’ like that. Well, except you, it seems. Seein’ you lyin’ there, limp as a windless sail…I, I thought for sure it had—

[...]

(confused) What? But, then—if the lightnin’ didn’t hit ye, how’d you’d end up faintin' in me arms?

[...]

You’d…exhausted yer magic? \gasp/noise of surprise** Wait—then, the storm—all that wind and rain and thunder—that was you!?

[...]

(wonder) Blimey…remind me never to piss you off. I shoulda’ known…the way it whipped up outta nowhere, in the blink of an eye, right over our heads. I’d heard rumors that your kind could control the weather, but still. I guess I should be thankin’ me lucky stars that ye didn’t curse me into oblivion, back when I first turned on you!

[...]

And why not? It’s not like yer lackin’ for power. You could’ve sent me straight to Davy Jones, and been on your way! Come to think of it…why didn’t ye?

[...]

(barks out a laugh) Hah! Oh, that’s a good one, lass. No good man would do to you what I’ve done. Besides, even if I did happen to have a “good heart” beneath it all, it doesn’t matter. It’s not our nature that makes us who we are—it’s our choices. And I've made some piss-poor ones when it comes to you. Gods, I—I’m sorry, Angelfish. I’m so sorry. For everythin’.

[...]

Don’t blame meself? Hah…easy for you to say.

[...]

(shocked) …What? No—ye can’t mean that. Why the hell would you be glad it happened!?

[...]

Hmm? It made you realize what?

[...]

(unable to believe his ears) Yer…feelings for me? What—what’re you—you can’t mean…?

The Listener confesses that they love him.

(shocked, disarmed) No—there’s no way you could love a lug like me! That lightnin’ must’ve got to ye after all.

[...]

But—why? After everythin’ I've done to ye? It don’t make a lick o’ sense! There’s not a man out there who’s less worthy o’ you than me!

The Listener suddenly tells him, in no uncertain terms, to shut up.

(startled out of his angst) —Huh? Shut up?

[...]

Well, aye; I did say it’s our choices that matter, but—

[...]

Aye, I refused to hand you over, but that doesn’t—!

[...]

Aaargh…true. I—I suppose I did do the right thing, when it mattered most. (little laugh; playful) Damn you, Angelfish.

[...]

Aye. I hardly dared to let meself feel it, but I…I love you too, lass. Yer spirit, yer bravery, yer heart o’ gold. Can’t say I fathom why fate would be so kind to me all of a sudden, but ye won’t catch me lookin’ a gift horse in the mouth. I love you, Angelfish. If you'll have me, then I'm yours.

[...]

Hmm? Can ye what?

[...]

(chuckle) Do ye even need to ask? Come here.

\kissing\**

Mmm…oh, Angelfish. You’re as radiant as the first glow o’ dawn. This isn’t all some sort o' fever dream, is it?

[...]

(playful) You'll prove it, will ye? And how exactly do ye mean to—mmph!

\kissing\**

(chuckle) I guess that’ll do.

[...]

A problem? What do you mean?

[...]

Won’t the Rose be jealous? (laughs) Who wouldn’t be jealous of a beauty like you? (seductive) But, you forget, me lass…I’m a pirate. I take what I want, when I want it. I’ll not be lettin’ anything come between me and my most precious treasure.

\Optional—more kissing\**

Aye, I agree—I think this calls for a celebration. Where are all those lunkheads? I’ll have 'em chart a course for the nearest port. Sure, the grog won’t be near as good as Ol’ Red’s…(seductive) but mayhap we can find other ways to have a good time.

[...]

Oh, you saucy wench. Don’t tempt me. Now, let's be off. I don’t know about you, but I can hear a fifth o’ rum callin’ me name.