A/N: Songfics are against the rules, you say? Oh! Well, you do know there are over a thousand other songfics here. Hmm.

Enjoy. If you can.

I confess, I messed up/Dropping "I'm sorrys" like you're still around/And I know you dressed up/Said "Hey kid, you'll never live this down"

"How long are we going to continue not talking?" His voice is bitter but still loving, still caring, still full of concern for the girl, the woman he loved so.

"Once we rescue Jack everything will be fine," she more or less answers, on the verge of tears. He didn't understand; didn't need to understand.

Did he even want to understand?'Cause you're just the girl all the boys want to dance with/And I'm just the boy who's had too many chances

I'm sleeping on your folk's porch again, dreaming/She said, she said, she said, "Why don't you just drop dead?"

I don't blame you for being you/But you can't blame me for hating it

Will watched from the dusty street, half jealous, half relieved. The Governor had thrown yet another ball in the huge Swann mansion and Will could hear the sounds of celebration from down the drive. He asked shyly for an invitation, if only to see Elizabeth, to talk to her, even dance with her if the time came.

But her reply had been cut short. Her father had interjected. "Like father like daughter, you're just not the sort Mr. Turner."

Elizabeth was forced to walk away, a sad smile plastered on her face as she waved goodbye.

So say, what are you waiting for?/Kiss her! Kiss her!/I set my clocks early 'cause I know I'm always late

His face showed a little of the surprise that came when she handed him the medallion.

"Why did you take it?" he struggled not to yell, to kick, to show any sign of rage. He barely hears her words.

"My blood," he found himself saying, the words slowly registering in his mind. "The blood of a pirate."

She opens her mouth to speak, but rage overcomes him and he slams his hand down on the table.

She leaves.

Write me off, give up on me/'Cause darling what did you expect
I'm just off a lost cause/A long shot, don't even take this bet

"Good day Mr. Turner," she said, a scowl now on her face. She walked out, the men following her, Will trailing behind. He wouldn't even try. There was no point now.

He stares at the carriage drifting away and murmurs out, "Elizabeth."

It will never happen.

You can make all the moves, you can aim all the spotlights/Get all the sighs and the moans just right
I'm sleeping on your folk's porch again, dreaming/She said, she said, she said, "Why don't you just drop dead?"

She put on the façade she'd been using forever, making sickeningly sweet little simpers and laughs wherever necessary. It was the (wicked) way of the world, in her eyes, and in his eyes too. They both hated it.

But she denied this fact to him. "Don't be like that, Will," she'd said, but it was only to please her father.

Sullenly, he'd walked away, with Weatherby mumbling curses under his breath about upstanding lower-class men.

I'm just always on (always on)/You said you'd keep me honest
Always on (always on)/But I won't call you on it

Will stepped up to her, his face flushed. "Hi, Elizabeth," he said quietly.

Elizabeth showed her impish eleven-year-old grin, making Will blush.

"I- I got these for you," he hands her a small bunch of wildflowers, half of them already pathetically wilted. Elizabeth took them happily, sniffing them, not getting a waft of scent but thanking Will anyway.

"You can give me flowers any day, Will," Elizabeth smiled.

Will looked down at his feet, fighting down another wave of scarlet.

Always on,

"It's always belonged to you. Will you keep it safe?" His voice is soft, but determined.

She fights down tears. "Yes. Yes!"

Always on.