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.