On the nights that he wakes up, startled and panicked, to find himself with
his head resting on Elizabeth's bared breasts, his legs entwined with
Will's, he remembers. He recalls his brief flirtation with immortality, the
dance with true fearlessness. He ponders how life would be so much easier,
so less frightening, if the strings of his heart weren't interwoven with
those of the man and woman lying beside him. Then his confidence kicks back
in. He is, after all, Captain Jack Sparrow. He can handle anything. Even
love.
