The End
By Your Undoing
Elizabeth Turner was a murderer.
She had done it once and been so grossly struck by her actions that it had taken months to fully recover. The look on Jack's face when he realized what she had done, and even worse, the look of fear when he saw her again in Davy Jones's Locker- it had caused her such pain to just think of it.
Yet, here she was again.
She had been waiting for this for ten long years. She had played it out a thousand times in her mind. She had found herself aching for this moment even more than re-uniting with Will.Truly though, her ache for Will was why she had lived and breathed for this moment.
Cautiously, she slipped out from between the silken sheets of her double bed. Of course, she only really needed a double bed one day out of every ten years; but tonight was the night. Moonlight illuminated dust motes floating daintily down towards the other figure lying beneath the sheets. His usually bronze skin shone pale and ghost-like in the wan light, only reminding Elizabeth of what had been done ten years before.
He's already dead, she thought sadly. Her own thoughts seemed to intrude upon the silence, and she almost feared that her words would wake him. Will, I love you. That is why I have to do this.
Her toes curling cautiously on the floorboards, she tip-toed around the bed. She allowed herself to gaze upon Will's shadowed face. A soft smile was written upon his lips, but there were soft lines on his forehead that had not been there when she'd seen him last. They couldn't possibly be the result of aging— he was immune to that, she knew. Instead, his face betrayed the deluge of pain and sorrow that had washed over his features every day for the past decade. Elizabeth knew that he had felt the pain of their separation as much as she had.
That's why this must be done.
She forced her gaze downward. Elizabeth had trained herself to avert her eyes from the grotesque scar that ran across his breast, but now she stared at it. Rather, what lay upon it. There, resting upon William's now-empty chest, was the key.
She knelt down, reaching beneath the bed and feeling blindly with her hands. Soon, she felt the cold brush of metal against her fingertips. She grasped the hilt and stood, feeling a morbid sense of happiness that, since it's placement the night before, the dagger had not been found.
Fingers trembling slightly, she carefully slipped the blade beneath the cord that had kept the key safely upon Will's neck for ten long years. She brought the blade up in a swift movement, slicing the cord cleanly in two. Cautiously, she reached out and slipped the key off of the necklace. She jolted as Will stirred slightly, the corners of his mouth curling upwards, before uttering a soft sigh and lying still.
Retreating back around the bed, Elizabeth felt her heart quicken. Now was the time. The final moments. What she had been waiting for all those years.
Flinching at the grating noise that issued forth from the nightstand, she hastily pulled the single drawer out until it was completely free. Kneeling, she grasped each side of the chest that lay within. It was lighter than one may have expected, but she knew the weight of it well—she had spent many a night running her fingers over the surface, willing it to open.
It was difficult to see the exact location of the key hole among the shadows of the night, but after a few cautious stabs, the key sank into the chest and Elizabeth heard a satisfying click. Her own heart racing, she relinquished her grasp on the key and lifted the lid.
The first thing she registered was sound. A deep, steady thrumming issued forth from the shadow-swamped interior of the chest. Without the dampener of a human ribcage, the resonating bass thrum of the heart—Will's heart—immediately filled the room.
The next thing she registered was appearance. Cloaked in shadows, it sat lazily in the far corner of the chest- pumping air in the place of blood. Gory, to be certain. And eerie. But it was William's heart. Trivialities such as superstition should be the least of her worries.
Then, finally, touch. Biting her lip, Elizabeth fought the urge to shudder as the warm tips of her fingers met the clammy flesh of her husband's source of immortality. Before impulse could force her to cringe away, she hugged it to her breast, smothering it in her nightgown to muffle the horrible beating.
It was then that she noticed movement on the other side of the bed. As she snapped her head around to follow the sound of rustling sheets, Will rolled over to gaze at her through squinted, groggy eyes.
She hadn't planned on this.
"Elizabeth?" he asked, his words slightly slurred from sleep. "What are you doing?"
"I…" she flinched- ducking down to the floor to swipe the dagger from beside the chest, before turning away to hide the weapon and the heart. "I'm just thinking. God, Will. I love you."
She heard the sheets rustle again as he presumably sat up. "I love you too. More than anything."
Elizabeth screwed up her eyes against the tears that threatened to break past her defenses and stream down her cheeks. "Will…," she paused, drawing a shuddery breath before trying again. "Do you think we'll ever truly be able to be together?"
"Yes," he replied softly. Even as she stared blankly out the grimy window, she instinctively sensed his frown.
"Every ten years," he said. Then added quietly, "…and in death, I suppose". Though his words were uttered as gently and calmly as Will could muster, they seemed to slice through Elizabeth's consciousness like a dagger. Like the one she held in her hand.
"I don't want to grow old before your eyes, and thus grow to envy your youth," Elizabeth said bitterly, feeling the steady thump of the heart muffled against her chest.
"Elizabeth-"
"I don't want to ever feel anything but love for you Will," she said, her voice rising in volume. "I don't want to waste away for god knows how many years, spending my entire life waiting for just a day—a DAY—every ten years. Then finally, when I can't wait anymore, when I'm old and cruel and full of resentment and hate, simply waste away completely and be lost to the land of the dead. Only to waste away further in death- waiting for someone to stab your bloody heart! Waiting for your murder! Looking forward to it!"
More rustling behind her, then footsteps.
Moving a step farther into the shadows, she numbly clutched the heart and placed it over the skin where her own lay beating beneath. She bit her lower lip as her eyes burned with remorse.
And then his arms were around her waist, and she was melting into him, and for just a moment it was all okay. She was Mrs. Turner, and he was her Will. Forever.
But it was not truly so. Not yet.
" Elizabeth, I love you. It's late, and you're tired. You'll feel better in the morning. I don't know why you're thinking such thoughts now, but just know that I love you. I always will." She felt his warm cheek against her own, and his bare chest against her back. At any other time, she would have turned around and hugged him in return. But not now.
"Feel better in the morning," she repeated blankly. "Will, that's when you have to leave."
She turned. For a heartbeat, their eyes met- and the sadness and injustice of it all was brought to life in the form of one tortured glance. Then, his eyes found the heart that her white-knuckled hand clutched to her breast. As his mouth opened to speak, Elizabeth shook her head.
"I love you. But we can't live like this."
Before she could allow herself to think, Elizabeth Swann raised the dagger and stabbed. First through Will's heart, then through to her own.
In the second she had before the darkness came, she parted her lips and whispered; "we'll be together, Will. Forever."