A/N: With my updating skills (or lack thereof), I've decided to give this all to you in one, big bundle. Expect to spend a few more minutes reading this than you would a traditional one-shot, seeing as it was originally planned to be a multi-chapter fic. Please let me know what you think and leave a review, I really appreciate them!

And a BIG thank you to the brilliant, amazing and talented Florencia for beta-ing this for me. You're amazing!

Disclaimer: POTC belongs to Disney.

Chapter 1

Fear. It gripped her like a vice, unforgiving and merciless. It was the only way to explain how she felt when they retrieved Jack from World's End. He was cold to her and spoke only when necessary. It pained her inside to think that the quirky, flirtatious, optimistic Captain Jack Sparrow was gone. Gone… because she had killed him. If she had known… if she had even the slightest clue that a betrayal, as much as it was the right thing to do, would change him so drastically, she would never have gone through with it. She had not even planned it! Everything had just happened. It was as if she had been somewhere else, watching her actions, wanting to put an end to it but unable to stop it. Unable to step in and make things right. And all because of him: her loving and adoring fiancé - now husband - who was in danger, whom she had had to save. Because she had to save him… right?

But the more she thought about it in her days of seclusion of which there would be many more to come, the more she realized that the choice to be made had not been that easy. There was too much involved, too many feelings unvoiced. Too many factors to have made a decision as quick as she did. More emotions to consider. But it was too late now. The deed had been done, the dice had been cast, and the song had been sung. Jack Sparrow was not the same man he was and probably never would be.

When she, -they- had found him in the Locker, the look of absolute horror and dismay on his face upon seeing her there had nearly broken her heart, making her feel cold and empty inside. Not only had she lost Will, now Jack too. Until she realized that Jack was never hers. And now, never would be.

She honestly wished that he would have said something. Perhaps even something awful. Anything was better than the torturing silence she was presented with on the Pearl. She would rather have had him tell her that he hated her than be forced to deal with the silent treatment she received from him. It was absolutely dreadful and infuriating and… sad. The truth was, she secretly missed his voice and his laughter and his diabolically ridiculous plans that always seemed to work. She missed him.

She would have rather he killed her, or at least threatened to - anything to make her feel alive, present, there. Anything for him to acknowledge her presence and not leave the room as soon as she entered. She felt hurt and lonely. And scared. Scared that she had forever severed the relationship, no matter how minimally abstract (or largely intimate) it may have been, between her and the Captain she had come to know and admire. And love…? It was true, she had denied it for some time, but she would have given anything (her mind, body, soul… did she even deserve to have a soul after what she had done?) for him to feel some speck of affection for her. His negligence afflicted pain. Her sadness showed the truth. She missed Jack Sparrow. Even though he was right there.

And he never once called her Lizzie. Not once.

Elizabeth. It had such a cruel connotation when it flew from his impeccably tasteful lips. The way he said it with such disdain and disgust killed her inside. It scared her. It frightened her to the core just how much she missed his playful way with her and the fun, innocent banters they would exchange. Until, that is, their bickering had taken things to another level. A level that neither of them were familiar with. And so, was it really her fault what she had done, what had happened to him? Perhaps it was something external that had caused it all. That invading feeling whenever they were in each other's presence, especially present when he had asked her to marry him. It was all in good fun and he wasn't serious but she constantly wondered what would have happened if she had accepted. What he would think and say, what Will would think! But now she would never know. It was too late. She was too late. And not even now with him back could she revive the friendship they once had.

Of course, at the time, there was still the matter of one William Turner to deal with, an effortful endeavor in itself. The cold glances, the harsh tone of voice. It only made her feel worse. Everything made her feel worse. It seemed as though the only comfort she had was in knowing that she had saved the crew, however, once they found out about her involvement in their beloved captain's demise, their behavior towards her had also changed, if only slightly.

Whenever she caught his gaze or engaged in minimal, meaningless conversation with him, she would look for a sign. A signal that he had forgiven her or was at least softening up. But she never found one. He never showed any affection towards her. No scrap of politeness or kindness. Just that cold hard cruelty she had grown so accustomed to, seeing as though she recently (since that ill-fated kiss) received similar behavior from not-so-dear Will.

To top things off, she had to go through her father's death, something that had shocked her as much as it crushed her. She expected Jack to comfort her, seeing as he knew how much she loved her father but the arms wrapped around her were not Jack's, but Will's. As it should be, after all. They were still engaged to be married. If she were to try and fix a relationship, it should have been the one she had with Will. He could commit whereas Jack simply wouldn't. She figured he had been hurt too many times in the past to trust anyone, especially her, for there may have been many that have tried to best and kill Captain Jack Sparrow but only she had succeeded so if he should hate anyone, it would be her. His murderess. And incidentally, the one who loved him.

So, that was what she did. She tried to distance herself from Jack as much as possible but didn't have to for long. Soon enough, Sao Feng came along and increased that distance by a few leagues, at least. And she had to admit that the whole time she was there, she resented Will and wished that Jack had done something to keep her aboard, to save her. It was all just another pointless search for some sort of forgiveness, as little as it may have been.

Finally, at the Brethren Court meeting when he had voted her King, she really thought it was his way of forgiving her. It was only until after the war that she realized she was merely a tool, used as deceptively as she had once used him to gain what she wanted. It was an opportunity for success, not a personal choice. He did not want her King. And that realization hurt.

And when she had tried to say goodbye, to have one more taste of freedom, he rejected her and that rejection hurt. She had married Will. She should understand that he would not want her anymore, if he ever had at all. And yet, she didn't. She still wanted him. Honestly, she wasn't completely aware of what was going on during the war what with the torrents of rain and shouting and all. She simply followed her instinct which too many times had led her down the wrong path and said "I do." They were due to be married. It was only right. Then, Will died. And she realized that a simple "I do" would leave her with more responsibilities and promises than she had ever imagined.

Ten years. Ten years of her life, wasted away on an island. She should not resent her husband. She should not complain or want to abandon the task or go off on another pirate adventure. She should not. And yet she did. She desired all of those things but most of all, she desired a man. The man who captained a ship with black sails, a ship she had grown to love and even call home. But what hope was left for that dream? Jack would never come. If he didn't forgive her then, it was unlikely that he would forgive her now but wishing allowed her an escape. A way to pass the time on her little island as there, time passed ever so slowly.

Three and a half months. Fourteen weeks. Ninety-eight days. Well, ninety-nine, now, considering the sun had just risen. Another day of waiting. Waiting…? Or wishing? Or both… Waiting for Will, yet wishing for Jack.

She recalled how her father used to tell her that wishes only came true if your heart desired them yet she felt that no matter how much her heart desired Jack Sparrow, he would never come and she would be left with only waiting, a rigorous task indeed. Only a few days after Will left, she had grown bored. Hopeless. Lonely.

Come now, Elizabeth. It is not the time to dwell on the past. That fire won't build itself.

She set out from her make-shift home (a few stacked logs, some leaves, and a blanket from the Pearl as bedding) to find some wood and make a fire. She had learned to be quite self-sufficient, catching her own fish and cooking them (although it was an acquired taste) as well as looking for coconuts and other fruits, such as bananas. She always ate her meals in silence and occasionally her meals were complimented by a few drops of salt water, a result of her broken tears, shed for her pitiful existence.

There you go again! My, how your mind wanders.

Fire. It was what was between her and Jack. A longing, lustful fire. Although, somewhere deep inside her, perhaps her mind (or even her heart…?), she wanted so desperately to believe that in the end, before his untimely demise, there had been something more. Something less arbitrary and more intentional. More tangible. Something worth fighting for.

Something worth dying for?...

Elizabeth moved swiftly as she gathered some sticks and placed them neatly into a small pile. She had learned how to make fire from him. The exact object of her affections. That fateful night on the island.

Elizabeth was sitting in the sand, staring ominously into the distance, a displeased look on her face. Jack approached her cautiously, as he had already experienced her temper fist-hand.

"Come on, now, luv. Fess up. Why do ye look so sad? Is being stuck on an island with me that depressing?" he inquired amusedly.

She looked up at him and he sat down next to her so he could look at her more leveled.

"It's not that, Jack. It's a lot of things. Will, for one. I don't know if he's going to be alright." She whispered, tears brimming in her eyes, threatening to cascade at any moment.

"I'm sure brave William will be just fine. He may be a whelp but he's got pirate blood in him. Should do him some good." When her expression didn't change, he continued, subconsciously (or intentionally) wrapping his arm around her, noticing with growing happiness that she did not push him away but rather leaned into him. "Something else bothering ye?"

She looked into his eyes and it was only then that he realized what a fragile girl she was. How easily she could be hurt.

"I'm scared, Jack." Her voice constantly breaking. "I just don't think we'll survive. We've only some food and rum." She leaned into him more. "And it's getting cold." She said with a small smile, perhaps somewhere inside her believing that he would believe she only leaned in closer because of the frigid air, which was not that frigid to begin with.

"Don't worry, luv. I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. I'll get us out of this mess." He said with conviction, smiling at how her eyes lit up when he said 'us'.

"I'm cold, Jack," she whispered.

"I'll build a fire! Just wait here, it'll be over before ye know it."

"Wait!" He stopped in his tracks. "I want to help."

"Alright," he replied after a moment of mock-consideration (which she seemed to have believed…). "You can come."

Together, they found some tree branches and arranged them in a circle with one larger branch in the middle. Elizabeth had inquired whether or not they were going to use rum to set the fire and she cowered a bit at the piercing look Jack gave her.

"We never burn the rum, luv. Rum's precious."

"Not even to save our lives?"

"Trust me, dearie. After a few days of being stuck on an island such as this…" he said, gesturing to the landscape around them. "Rum starts to be your best friend."

"So how will we get it started?" She blushed at the sensual look he gave her. "The fire, I mean." She corrected, once again scolding herself for her choice of words.

He only smiled and grabbed a smaller stick and a rather smooth rock and began rubbing them together. "Like this," he said, smirking.

She watched in amazement and in a few moments, the fire was going and it was going strong. They had cooked some fish, although she refused to eat it, Jack mock-threatened to kill her if she didn't (even though they would most likely die anyway) and so she ate it all rather quickly, receiving an approving look from the captain.

When they were finished, they both sat together by the shore, watching the sun prepare to set. He shook his head amusedly at how young this girl was and how much she intrigued him. She had a fire inside her, somewhere, and if he knew what he could do to start it (he chuckled at her previous wording), he would make it happen. She was so young, so fragile. So innocent- That was, until she gave him small, chaste kiss on the lips, leaving him absolutely speechless and her, embarrassed.

"What…" he cleared his throat. "What was that for, Lizzie?" he asked confusedly not only as to why she kissed him but as to why he called her Lizzie.

"Thank you." She looked into his eyes. "For saving my life. You found us food, rum… you even made fire. And thank you for making me eat."

"Lizzie…" He started but she put her hand up to stop him, which he did.

"No. You didn't have to and you did. So thank you," she replied smilingly.

"It's all in a day's…" he trailed off, looking for the right word.

"Work?" she offered.

"Nay, luv. Pirates don't work. They…"

"Pillage."

"Sorry?" he asked, confused.

"Pirates. Well, they pillage. And plunder. And don't give a hoot. Drink up me hearties, yo ho."

"I know there's more to that song than that, luv."

"So there is, Captain Sparrow. Now where's that rum?" she whispered, an amused grin playing about her lips.

She sighed. All that happened before the betrayal, as little as it may have been, in which she burned the rum. And also the betrayal when she allowed him to be arrested again. But neither betrayal even came close to what she did the next time they crossed paths. She 

gave him the kiss of death and for that, she never expected to be forgiven. Maybe she did not expect to be forgiven but she most certainly wanted to be.

Stop it, Lizzie! Focus!

She grabbed a rock and a small stick and soon enough, fire was created. But tonight, she just wasn't hungry. All these memories of the past had ailed her and she lost her appetite and spent the rest of the day with one part of her wishing and the other part of her waiting, neither part willing to give up hope. Neither part willing to give in.

It was all much like the little games they used to play. But that was before those games turned into something more serious, more real. Something that couldn't be fueled by simple banter but required actions to solidify its purpose. And she had taken action. An action that cost Jack his life. Had he known? Perhaps he had known that his curiosity would get the best of him someday. If, after all, he hadn't tempted her into coming to his side and becoming a pirate, she never would have done what she did. It was all so clear to her but she doubted Jack would see things that way. She did not even see things that way. She wanted to but it was all a hopeless effort, a way out of sorts that she was clinging to in order to take the blame away from her and along with it, the guilt. The guilt that consumed her the moment she stepped into that longboat. And it continued to consume her. It was consuming her now.

Pointless. It was pointless to try and forget what had happened between them and yet she would try. Being alone had its advantages in that you had time to think and disadvantages in that you had time to remember, a notion that caused her many sorrow-filled nights (and days).

Another day, gone. Another day in which nothing was accomplished, at least nothing of consequence. Elizabeth recoiled in her make-shift home preparing for another night in which she would dream. Of him…

Jack Sparrow was never one to be attached to anything or anyone. However, he had two exceptions to this rule. One, the Black Pearl. A marvelous ship, so marvelous in fact, that he had sold his soul for her. That ship was his home, his pride and joy, his child. And it had been taken from him too many times to count. That led to number two. A woman, strong and fierce, proud and lovely, and beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. Royalty, even. Elizabeth Swann. He refused to amend her name to Turner. It cut off all hope. When she was a Swann, there was still a chance. A miniscule chance but a chance nonetheless as it still existed and therefore could grow into a larger chance that could, by chance, become a reality. But she could also be weak, at times. She was not afraid to break down into tears. Like when her father died, for example. It was then that he realized that they really were very much alike. They both had an unbreakable façade that they showed the world. A mask to conceal their true feelings. He had only taken it off once and he learned from his mistake, seeing as it got him killed and all. But she never took it off, at least not completely.

When her father died, he had wanted to go to her, to comfort her but to what point and purpose? What solace could she possibly find in him, a pirate? Will was far more suited to make her feel better. He saw the tears in her eyes, the desperation in her voice and it killed him. But then, the next day, her face was free of tears, replaced with a stony demeanor that he didn't see come off until the Brethren meeting when he voted her King.

He wouldn't admit it but he had forgiven her. Hell, he loved her! But those were words she would never hear. He refused to give her the satisfaction of hearing those words from his lips, at least if she would not be brave enough to say them first. But then she married dear William, another betrayal. He didn't know when it stopped being a game, when they started dealing with actual feelings. Maybe they had always been dealing with feelings, disguising them in witty banters and innocent flirting. That is, until the innocence evaporated and they were left with pure, raw feelings. Feelings that neither of them knew how to handle. Feelings that killed whatever possibility there was for them in the future; the possibility to have a future at all.

While he was lost in his musings, he barely noticed that his dinghy had come upon a ship with black sails and not-so-happy chart man who was, ironically, lacking said chart that was supposedly his. In Jack Sparrow's eyes, property was an ambiguous ideal.

Something that belonged to you could easily be taken away and then belong to someone else. Like Lizzie. Lizzie…?! He realized that he hadn't called her (or thought of her as…) Lizzie in such a long time. He knew he had been cold to her when he came back but it was either that or he'd go all whelp on her and romantically try to steal her heart. The interesting thing about possession was that the owner could always be changed, be it honestly or dishonestly and honestly, he preferred the latter.

He had never been an emotional person per say but whenever the threat of the possibility of Elizabeth's life being in danger, he would go into a state of complete worry, even if it was only on the inside. When she was hurting, so was he. He had realized a long time ago that he would do just about anything to see a bright smile on her face. Even if it meant letting her go to Will, which she had done by herself. But the strange thing was, when they had said their goodbyes and even during the entire time since he had been back, he did not see her smile. Not once. And it only proved that her strength surpassed that of countless others. Perhaps himself included.

Barbossa was a very greedy man. And when he heard a thud on the side of his ship, he wanted to shoot whoever thought they could make a dent, no matter how small, in his ship. But then, he saw the most wonderful sight his old eyes had ever seen. The navigational charts. Well, not the charts themselves but the man who was in the possession of said charts, which was equally pleasing.

Jack's small dinghy shook severely and when he saw that two-faced back-stabbing evil, traitorous, treacherous ex-first-mate of his looking down at him with a crooked smile, he cringed. Still, considering that he had been searching for the Fountain of Youth (an unsuccessful endeavor so far) for two weeks short of four months, he certainly did not mind the comfort of being on a sturdy surface, one that would not sink with even the tiniest of waves. He eagerly grabbed the line that was cast (with the remaining scrap of the charts safely hidden in his coat pocket) and smiled victoriously as he once again stepped aboard his beloved Pearl. What he encountered, however, caused the smile to quickly dissipate and a confused smirk to replace it.

"Welcome aboard, Jack." Barbossa hissed in a dangerous tone of voice.

"Is this how ye welcome your captain back, mate? A pistol to his head?"

"The pistol could just as easily be put away if ye make out with what ye so dishonestly stole."

"What do ye want, Hector? I thought you had everything. My ship. My crew. My… is that my pistol?" he asked incredulously.

"It certainly is. We figured ye'd want your otherwise useless belongings to go to the crew."

"I'm not sure I'm inclined to give that which I… commandeered after receiving such a harsh greeting, aye?"

Barbossa chuckled and put away the pistol, smiling inwardly at the jealous look in Jack's eyes. "And why should I believe that ye'd give it to us at all without a little… inspiration?"

"Somehow I don't consider a threat to be the same as inspiration," he said seriously, but still with that air of playfulness in his voice.

"Didn't think ye would. So… your ex-crew and I have decided upon a different approach."

"And what would that be, I wonder?"

"Well, a trade, of course," he announced cheerily. Too cheerily. "There must be something ye want, Jack," he said, looking around at the ship a bit too obviously.

"What, the Pearl? I know all too well, Hector, that she is the one thing ye'd never part with. Not even for immortality."

"Ye'd be surprised what I'd be willing to do for immortality."

"Good! Then we can get down to asking, eh? Here's what I want."

"Not before ye give us the bearings, Jack," he shot back menacingly.

"Last time I gave ye the bearings you viciously mutinied upon me."

"Seeing as ye ain't the current captain, a mutiny seems a bit… not possible."

"Not probable. See, that's one of the conditions for the charts. I'm Captain."

Barbossa gave a grunt of disapproval but quickly gave a fake half-smile to cover it up. "Done. And now the charts, if you will," he said, extending his hand.

"I'm not done yet. I also want me quarters back. And my pistol. And my ship. And my…" He paused. What could he say? My girl? My love? My life? No. What indeed.

"Your…?" inquired Barbossa, giving Jack back the pistol.

"I'll give ye the charts. If… ye help me with one more thing."

After an intensely emotional explanation, Barbossa shook his head unsympathetically, wondering why the man in front of him was ever made a captain, much less a Pirate Lord!

"That's the most ridiculous plan I've ever heard of. It'll never work."

"Are you deaf? It's bloody brilliant," he said, looking straight ahead, thoughtfully, envisioning every step, every detail. "We'll dock on the other side, so she won't see us. You and I and maybe the two dimwits will get off and find her. I'll talk her into it and if that doesn't work, we'll just kidnap her. She'll stay on the Pearl and-…"

"And what makes ye think that any of that might change the way she feels for the Dutchman's newest captain?"

He blinked, wondering why he hadn't thought of that little hole in the plan. "It's worth a shot, mate."

"You've turned into a bloody whelp. And all over some little wench."

He turned around angrily. "Do not… call Lizzie a wench."

"Need I remind ye that she killed ye?"

Jack grimaced, eyeing Barbossa threateningly. "It doesn't matter," he said in a low tone of voice. "It's this or there's no chart."

"Listen to me, Jack. Now I ain't no romantic but that lad loves her. If he finds out… you'll have more than the Locker to deal with. They say 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned' but what they forget to say is 'hell hath no fury like a man betrayed'."

Not to mention a whelp betrayed, Jack thought, irritated with Barbossa for bringing him up. "Then it's a wonder you're still alive, betrayals being your specialty." Jack started for the door but stopped when Hector spoke once more.

"The heading?"

"I don't answer useless questions. Ye know exactly where we're going."

A week. Seven days. That's how long it took them to get to Lizzie's island, just off the coast of Shipwreck Cove. They did as planned, docking in at the other side of the island, careful to not make too much noise. The island may have been small but sound carried easily in silence with nothing but the gentle waves rolling onto the shore.

Elizabeth was just waking up, still a bit light-headed from her dream.

"I can't believe you're here, Jack." Her smile radiating light stronger than the stars above them. "I thought you'd never come."

"I thought I'd never come either," he replied hardheartedly.

"I just want you to forgive me. I felt so awful, I…"

"Ye what?" he sneered. "Felt guilty? Couldn't live with yourself? Wished ye could take it all back?"

"Yes, all of that!"

"Well, Elizabeth… It's come to my attention that ye never even tried to redeem yourself."

"Please, Jack. I'd do anything. All that matters is your forgiveness."

"Anything, luv? I don't think ye'd want to be tempting a pirate like me to accept… anything ye may have to offer."

"Jack. It's too late. I already did."

With that, he roughly grabbed her, pulling her to him, snaking his arms tightly around her waist, kissing her with growing intensity. She gave into the kiss and the more she gave, the more gentle he became. The more his kiss turned soft and loving not vengeful and violent until all that was left was the purity of the kiss. When she pulled back, his eyes looked sad to the point of misery. She looked around her and noticed that they were in the Locker. She was in the Locker. And seeing the distress on his face brought back all that pain and guilt.

"Oh, Jack…"

"I forgive ye, Lizzie. I do."

Her eyes shot open at the 'I do', her mind playing with that phrase over and over again, wondering if he would ever say it in front of the altar. Highly unlikely.

Then, a sound, more like a voice shook her out of her reverie. She wasn't even sure if she had in fact heard what she thought she heard but one simple look and it was clear.

"It wasn't my idea, Mrs. Turner, just so ye know."

"What are you doing here?" she asked, perplexed by his most unwelcome presence.

"Ye'd best be asking the captain."

"The captain…?" she asked, wondering if it could really be true. Was he there? Had he really come for her?

"It's not like I wouldn't mind kidnapping ye again but this time…"

"Kidnapping? What are you talking abo-…" She froze when she saw a shadow looming over her from behind. Ever so slowly, she turned, taking a deep breath before looking up and locking eyes with the one and only Captain Jack Sparrow.

"Hello, luv," he said, smirking at her in an irresistible manner.

"Is it… Is it really you, Jack?"

"Only one way to find out," he replied huskily, kneeling down to her level and gently caressing her face. He gave her a small yet raw and passionate kiss. Passionate enough to make her feel like she was on fire and raw enough to remind her of her undead husband and the promise she was supposed to be keeping to him.

Hesitantly, she pulled back and looked at him, helpless in her effort to convince him to stop, hurtful words lost in her mind. He eyed her expectantly and she did the one thing she knew would make him stop.

"I'm married, Jack," she whispered sadly.

"Pirate," he uttered before signaling to someone behind her.

She watched his eyes widen and his hands gesturing whomever was about to do whatever they were about to do to stop before they did it.

"No! You're not supposed to do that!" he yelled at Ragetti who had been ready to hit Elizabeth's head with the butt of his pistol, using it as a club as Pintel had once taught him.

"S-Sorry."

"Oh, bloody hell. I'll do it meself. Come, come, luv. Up ye go," he said, pulling her to her feet, confusion still adorning her well-defined features.

"What's going on?" she asked, perplexed.

"Well, luv, we're taking ye aboard the Pearl," he explained slowly.

She wrinkled her nose. "And if I don't want to go on the Pearl?" Why are you doing this, Elizabeth! She scolded herself. You know this is what you've been wishing for! Waiting for…

"Frankly I could not care less what you want and even less for what ye don't want so ye might as well want it because it's going to happen whether ye want it or not."

"What are you doing, Jack? What is this all about?"

"Can ye for once do something I tell ye to do? Ye do owe me, after all." He regretted using that against her when he saw the different flashes of emotions on her face and neither emotion appealed to him very much.

"Jack… I am sorry. So very sorry!" she said, crashing into his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"No, Lizzie-luv. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

She pulled back abruptly as she registered his words. Lizzie. "You... what did you just say?"

"I shouldn't have used that to make ye feel guilty, luv. I hate to see ye so sad."

"You called me Lizzie."

"Did I?"

"You did. You did, Jack."

"Yes, well, come on, luv."

"What? Oh!" she yelled as Jack slumped her over his shoulder and began carrying her along the beach, Barbossa and Ragetti in tow.

Pintel had stayed behind due to his frightening obsession with the poppet. Sure, she yelled and screamed and even tried kicking him but he would have none of it. After a while, she simply gave up having realized that this was what she wanted: to be back on 

the Pearl with him. Although, she had wished for a more… eloquent and less radical way of getting aboard his ship but beggars cannot be choosers, after all.

The truth was, he hadn't wanted to be so blunt about what he wanted. He wanted her to come to the Black Pearl willingly, but the cynic in him doubted whether her curiosity was strong enough to lead her there, and so he failed to believe she would have come on her own accord. He wanted to leave no room for negotiation. Denial. Rejection. He just wanted to sail with her again. He thought that maybe if she was near, these feelings would go away. Yet, in the back of his mind, he didn't want them to go away. He thought that maybe these feelings might grow into something beautiful. Either way, he wouldn't know unless she went and so he made sure that she would go.

After a few moments of walking and, in Elizabeth's case, being carried, they arrived at the longboats of which there were two. One for Barbossa and Ragetti, and one for Elizabeth and Jack. Jack finally put Elizabeth down and started for one of the longboats until Barbossa grabbed his arm, stopping him.

"Something wrong, Hector?" Jack inquired, his eyes radiating with annoyance.

"Actually…" he paused, searching for a plausible explanation as to why he could not take that dinghy. "Ragetti here has an obsession with left." He explained, eyeing Ragetti angrily to make sure he would play along.

"With left?" asked Jack, skeptically.

"Aye. The direction, that is. See, it's all because of his eye. He's missing the right one so he likes everything that's on the left. If we don't, we'll have to listen to his complaining from here to the Fountain. We don't want that, do we?"

"No, I suppose not," he agreed jollily, leading Elizabeth to the dinghy on the right, inwardly chuckling at Ragetti's quirk.

There was something exceedingly disturbing about Barbossa's smile as he watched Jack help Elizabeth into the longboat and she caught on while Jack seemed oblivious. Watching him get betrayed was like betraying him again and she grew worried.

"Jack, I noticed that he mentioned the Fountain. He wasn't talking about the Fountain of Youth, was he?"

"I don't know of any other fountain that Hector Barbossa would be interested in finding so yes, luv. That'd be the Fountain of Youth," he said with a half-smile.

"I just find it curious that he insisted we take this longboat instead of the other."

"You heard him and all that about Ragetti. If ye ask me, never thought he was right in the head meself."

"Jack, you're not right in the head!" His eyes widened and he pouted slightly. "Something's wrong," she whispered. "I refuse to believe that someone who's betrayed you in the past would hesitate to do it again."

Jack sneered. "This coming from the pirate who murdered me."

"Well if you don't trust me, why are you bringing me to your ship?" she asked indignantly, thrusting her chin up at him.

"To be perfectly honest I…" His eyes narrowed at a sight behind her. He even stopped rowing to get a better look and his curiosity got the best of her and so she turned around to see as well.

It was a pleasurable sight, she had to admit, Barbossa looking defeated as water filled it up to the top causing it to sink. Jack smirked. He had impeccable luck. Although the dinghies were far from each other, the conversation, or rather the argument, could still be heard.

"I told ye to put holes in the dinghy to me right!"

"I did, Captain! The one on the right, just like you said."

In all truthfulness, Ragetti really had poked holes in the right dinghy. Seeing as he was behind the boats when given the order and Barbossa in front, confusion occurred and left them ultimately stranded.

Elizabeth turned around to face Jack yet again and she smiled, shaking her head disapprovingly.

"I told you he was up to something. You can't trust him," she explained apologetically.

His eyes bore into her. "And can I trust you?"

The question took her off guard. She had no answer prepared, nothing to say and so, she allowed her evasive nature to get the best of her. "I don't know, Jack. Can you trust me?" She paused, looking him straight in the eye before staring at the bottom of the dinghy. "Because trusting someone means you have no issues to be resolved. All is forgiven." His mouth twitched. "Have you forgiven me, Jack?"

"I don't know, luv." But he did. He really did.

"You called me 'Lizzie'," she countered.

"It doesn't matter. I need time." He said solemnly.

"If you haven't forgiven me then why are you so bent on getting me back to the Pearl? Why do you want me there so much? How come you-…"

"Would you just be quiet for one tiny second?" she had a shocked look on her face but obeyed his request, silently nodding. "I miss ye, darling."

"I'm right here, Jack," she whispered, placing her hand over his.

"That's not what I'm talking about… I don't want ye to feel guilty. About what happened. It was the right thing to do and truth be told, I'd never been more proud of ye. I just… didn't expect it from you, that's all, luv."

"I didn't expect it from myself either," she said more to herself than to him. "I am so sorry, Jack. I felt guilty the whole time, I barely ate or slept or…"

"I know." She looked at him, confused. "Gibbs told me everything. About how things were between ye and…" He trailed off, not wanting to say the whelp's name. "Ye know who. And I'm the one who should be apologizing, dearie. I never meant to hurt ye, luv."

"I forgive you, Jack," she said, inwardly hoping that it would make him forgive her as well, but she should have known that Jack was not that easy to deal with.

"Forgiveness is a strange thing, luv. It cannot be granted when requested nor when deserved."

"Then when can it be granted?" Her eyes pressing him for answers.

"Forgiveness can only be granted when it has been earned."

"But if one has earned forgiveness… do they not deserve it?"

"Nay. Because a person can deserve forgiveness before they've ever earned it, savvy?"

"But… but then what if one is deserving of forgiveness? Have they not earned it?"

"Enough with the questions, luv. See, the difference between deserving and earning forgiveness is simple. To deserve means that you ought to have forgiveness just for the sake of having it while to earn forgiveness means that ye have worked for it and are worthy of forgiveness."

"Am I worthy of forgiveness?"

"Ye haven't exactly done anything to earn it, now, have ye."

"There hasn't yet been an opportune moment."

"That's why we've got the whole trip ahead of us!" he exclaimed amusedly, again trying to cover up the deeper-than-ocean emotions he was dealing with especially for the likes of Elizabeth Swann.

"How did you manage to get the charts? I thought Barbossa had them."

"I've got them now. And all he's got is-…"

While Barbossa frustratingly walked around the beach, trying to come up with a plan, he saw something glimmering in the sunlight and bent down to pick it up. Once he felt it in his hands, he knew his luck had turned.

Barbossa was now in the possession of Jack's compass…

"What? What is it, what has he got?" Her voice frantic at the look of shock on Jack's face.

Jack eyed her seriously. "Me compass."

A/N: Hey readers! Wow I can't believe you've made it this far! Anyhow, as I'm sure you've guessed, this is obviously not going to be a one-shot anymore and if it was, you could most certainly pelt rocks at me for leaving it at that. But fear not! I've decided to split this up into five (equally long, a tad bit shorter perhaps) chapters because if I didn't, you'd be reading this for about half an hour and I have a feeling that you'd get bored after a while so stay tuned for the next chapter which should be up very, very soon!