Chapter One: A Broken Smile

Jack was left alone now. He lowered his eyes to Will's lifeless corpse, lying torturously still at his feet.

At a snail's pace, he reached his right hand to the back of his head and felt the tip of his battered, leather hat beneath his trembling fingertips. Ever so slowly, he slid it off of his head and placed it over his heart, as if to slow its wild thumping. It didn't help, though. It seemed like nothing would calm his heart or his mind. Ever.

His hat still pressed between his fingertips and his aching heart, he raised his quivering left hand to his sweat dappled forehead. He then attempted a shaky salute, somehow managing to succeed.

"You were a good man, Will," he said in a low tone. He listened to his own voice, which oddly rang throughout the cave. It then cracked and died, leaving behind the trace of a miniscule echo that he was sure only he could hear.

For a moment, it seemed as if he were drowning in deathly silence. Then, in another split second, he heard the familiar sound of his own heartbeat echo rhythmically in his head.

That's right, he assured himself. I'm alive. And Will is not, because I wasn't quick enough. The dagger was quicker than me.

He glanced down again at Will, and his lingering gaze finally came to rest upon the dagger. A sliver of the silver blade was still visible, even through the caked blood that surrounded the lethal wound. The short sword was lodged above his stomach, right below his rib cage.

Jack almost wanted the body to stir. He wanted it to open its large, bewildered brown eyes and ask, "Where's Elizabeth?"

"I'll take you to her," he would say, a toothy grin spread across his tanned face. "She won't know that any of this happened."

She won't know that any of this happened. Back to reality. He tore his gaze from the gruesome wound and set it upon his own chest. He suddenly realized that he had still been clutching his hat to his uncontrollably pounding heart throughout his whole thought process. He hastily slipped it back onto his head and swiveled around to face the cave's exit.

If only he wasn't too late. If only the dagger would've missed or fallen. If only…

It's funny how a split second in time can change everything.

Jack had seen much worse, but this was unbearable. He walked out of the cave and silently listened to the peal of sound that his own footsteps created on the stone bottom.

He's gone. And he's never coming back.

If only…

With that, he didn't even look over his shoulder at the past. He just continued walking, the sound of his footsteps mixed with his heartbeat echoing throughout his mind.

If only.

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"No, no, it's too tight," Elizabeth whined, tugging at the lacy strings on her snow-white wedding dress.

"But, Miss Swann, any looser and it'll fall off of you on the aisle," her tailor giggled, brushing her hand away lightly and tightening it again.

She sighed and looked down at the woman that was fixing up her dress. She gazed up and into the three mirrors in front of her; one head-on and two on either side. She didn't want to sound smug, but… She looked gorgeous. Her hair was done up in an elegant knot, twisted intricately at the back of her head. Her lips were full and pink, and her eyes were done up with just the right amount of kohl to give them a smoky look.

"Why, Miss Swann, you look beautiful," the tailor cooed, smiling.

At just that moment, Commodore Norrington stepped into the room. He slipped his hands behind his back and surveyed Elizabeth. He obviously thought that she looked stunning; everyone in the room could tell by his expression. The tailor continued to chuckle.

"Elizabeth, you have a… visitor," he informed her.

She creased her perfectly arched eyebrows. "Who?"

"Oh, I think you know who," he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching. He seemed to be trying not to smile.

She gave him a puzzled look and carefully stepped off of the small platform that she was standing on for her tailor. She raised the edge of her striking wedding dress so that she could walk out of the room, and she let the Commodore usher her to the unknown guest.

"Mr. Sparrow!" she exclaimed, walking even faster, yet still cautiously, towards him. She came to a halt in front of him and awkwardly extended her hand, not quite sure if they were good enough friends yet for her to give him a hug.

He accepted the greeting and gave her a small handshake. His grip was clammy, though, and she silently wondered why. She raised her chin and watched him intently. He was looking rather paler than usual, and he looked at her cheerlessly. His eyes instantly showed a grief of some kind, and she was immediately worried.

"Jack, what's wrong?" she asked him slowly and put her hand tenderly on his shoulder.

He gulped and lowered his eyes. "May I talk to you… In private?"

She frowned. "Yes, of course." They walked into the Swann's mansion, and ignored the dirty looks that some of the servants gave to the obviously unwashed Jack. It seemed like he couldn't even retort or glare back at them. It was almost like he was dead… Inside. What happened? she thought, and escorted him into the grand lounge. He immediately sat down on a large, luxurious couch and motioned for her to sit down next to him.

"Elizabeth…" he began, staring at her with glassy eyes.

She sat down gingerly and smoothed out a ruffle in her wedding gown. This seemed to upset him more, though, and she gazed right back at him. "Jack, what happened? You seem less than happy on Will's and my wedding day." She attempted to give him a small smile, but he ignored it.

Jack slumped against the back of the couch's seat and sighed heavily. After a moment's thought, he leaned forward and fixed his glazed eyes on her worried ones. "Will is…"

She straightened her back instantaneously and looked at him fervently, her heart jumping. "Will is what?"

He leaned even closer and closed his eyes for a moment. After opening them slowly, three life-changing words escaped his lips. "Will is… Dead."

The words hit her like a cannonball, and she instantly turned numb. It was like she was given a shot of novacaine; starting at her head, it flowed throughout her whole body, to her chest, her hips, and eventually her legs. She couldn't move or say a word. Perhaps the novacaine flooded her brain, too.

"No, no, no…" she said, slowly shaking her head. With her mouth slightly open, she sudden regained life in her legs and stood up. She walked over to the door, her lip trembling.

"Elizabeth," he said, his eyes widening at her. He watched her walk to the door and put her shaking hand on the handle.

"It's not true," she murmured to the door. "It can't be. It's…" She turned around very slowly and stared at Jack. Tears welled up in her eyes as she gradually walked back over to him and sat down again. As soon as she sat, her head sagged on her chest and the tears fully leaked.

"Jack…" she whispered, looking up at him. Her tears glued her eyelashes into small triangles. "How did this happen?"

For once, he was at a loss for words. After thinking for a moment, he gazed at her. "I… don't know."

She then completely broke down. Wailing and drowning in tears, she rested her head on Jack's shoulder and sniffled, still crying heavily. He rubbed her shoulders and arms slowly, and he laid his cheek gently across the top of her head. He was never good with women and their range of wavering emotions, but for once… He knew what she was going through.

After what seemed like an eternity of weeping and bawling, Elizabeth raised her head and looked him straight in the eye.

"Jack," she began in a surprisingly determined tone. "I want the person who did this to suffer. I want them to be guilty through their whole life, and I want them to regret what they just did." She stared at him confidently, and gave him a small sniff of fortitude. "We'll find out who did this, right?" Her grit suddenly turned to desperation as she gazed at him with wide eyes.

"Of course," he mumbled back to her. "We'll find out. We'll do anything it takes to catch this person and give them pain and suffering. What say you to that?"

"Aye," she said back, strangely out of character. She placed her head back on his shoulder and gave him a broken smile. A broken smile of gratitude, compassion, and anxiety all at once.