Ok, I just couldn't resist writing this. I saw the movie tonight, and almost as soon as I got home, I sat down to write this. Its not exactly like the movie, its not meant to be. I've had both complaints and compliments on that issue, but more complaints then compliments. Anyways, I tried to stay in character as much as possible. Hope you enjoy it, and as always, please review!

Oh, and by the way, it all is the property of the mouse, I'm just borrowing it, I'll give it back when I'm done... maybe. Lol.

I had collapsed against the railing of the ship, on top of a pile of debris. I was beyond exhausted. The fighting had taken so much out of me, particularly the fight with my own father. I didn't have the strength to raise even an arm up against Davy Jones.

"Master Turner," he drawled down to me. His eyes were as cold, and as triumphant as I had ever seen them, even if Jack held in his hand the monster's beating heart. "Looks like your luck has run out!"

I've read in stories and books that there is always that momentary pause of gleaming triumph in the enemy's eyes as he is about to swoop down on the fallen hero. But in that pause, someone, some way, finds the answer to save the hero's life. I didn't know if that would happen. God knew I didn't have the strength to fight anymore.

Davy Jone's sword came up. I expected the pause, but there was none. And all of a sudden, my entire world was turned into nothing but agony.

Jones lunged his sword down. His sharp, ragged blade slipped right between my upper ribs. I screamed in pain that was worse than anything I had ever endured. The intrusive piece of metal licked at my insides, straining its tip to reach my heart. Like some kind of hungry snake, the blade rifled around within my chest, looking for my life source.

Jones proceeded to twist the blade within my chest. My hands fisted inside the cloth and rope debris I was lying on as I tried to stop my wails of agony. But to no avail. I screamed my pain, but you could barely here it over the thunder. And then I didn't have the strength to scream. Didn't have the power. All I could do was just look up at Jones with eyes clouded in pain. His own grey orbs looked down at me, gleaming in victory.

"Our debt is settled," he spat.

"No!"

Elizabeth's shrill shriek sounded from just a little way's away. But it was dim. No, not dim, muffled. Like there was cloth pressed against my ears, so I couldn't hear. In fact, that was how all my senses felt at this point. Drawing my breath was like trying to breathe through a gag over my mouth and nose. My skin felt like heavy, thick oil coated it, stopping me from feeling anything. And I could only just barely taste the salty blood welling up in my mouth from the wound Jones had given me.

My beloved wife threw herself to me, putting pressure on the wound in my chest. The pain blazed to life, but I scarcely had the strength to moan. Some kind of dialogue was going on between Jones, Jack, and Barbosa, but I couldn't make sense of any of it. All I knew was Elizabeth was close by. That for me was enough.

"Will, don't leave me! I just got you back!" she whimpered.

With more effort than I had ever used slaving on Jones' ship, I opened my eyes. I tried to speak, but blood frothed my lips, and I couldn't do it. Just faintly I could feel the warm, wet liquid coating my body as it streamed from my chest.

Elizabeth's face was tear stained, streaked with dirt, grime, and muck. But she was still so beautiful. Her blond hair hadn't been combed, brushed, or washed in days, and yet I could still see it as the honey, sun kissed locks that I remembered them as. And her eyes. I didn't want to see the pain there. All I wanted to see, to remember, was the shining eyes looking at me with love and adoration. Not the pain, bitterness, and fear I had seen so much of lately.

I coughed, struggling to breathe, struggling to hang on to Elizabeth's voice. But what was the point? I was dying. I knew that already. Was I at peace? No. I didn't know if Elizabeth would be safe. I wouldn't be around to protect her anymore. But when had she actually ever needed it? She'd always taken care of herself. She was smart, clever, and resourceful. I had to make myself believe, in the space of about a minute, that she would be ok.

My head leaned back, the muscles in my neck lost all strength. My eyes rolled, and shut. My chest was trembling as I struggled to breathe. Loss of blood was making my head spin around and around. I would have been ok, if I could have heard Elizabeth. But I couldn't pick any one sound out of the din that had taken place in my head. It was a whirlwind inside my mind, thoughts as loud as cannon fire blasting inside my skull. Death's eternal silence would be a blessed comfort.

But then I felt a jerk on my wrist. Someone's fist was over my own, but it wasn't Elizabeth. This hand was hard, callous, and nearly unfeeling. And from that hand, something was placed into mine. I just barely felt the hard handle made of wood.

I tried to understand everything that was going on. I felt my arm moving, but I knew it wasn't me making the motion. A felt something slide through what sounded to be a wet object before the tip of what I had now put together was a knife hit the deck. As soon as the knife's tip it the deck, the whirlwind in my skull shattered.

My eyes fluttered open in time enough to see Jones falling over the edge of the Dutchmen. They flicked down to see my father's knife in my hand, the blade embedded in the center of Jones' heart. Dimly, I knew that something else would have to happen, but I didn't realize what till I heard my father's voice above me.

"The Dutchmen must have a Captain," was his rasp.

I leaned my head to the side, unable to do anything for my fate. I heard Jack speak.

"Now, Bootstrap!"

A sudden, searing agony ripped into my chest. I couldn't scream, because I didn't have the will. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, and could do nothing. Nothing but endure and exist under the raining blows of perpetual torment.

A second blade within my chest. But this wasn't just a stab. This was a precise cut. And it was worming its way all around my heart. That's when I realized what was happening.

No, no, no, no, no, no! I wailed within my brain. No! I didn't want this! Let me die! Not this, no!

I couldn't scream as I endured the agony of what happened to me. But I knew, no matter how long I lived, that I would never feel that kind of pain again. There are a lot of ways to put someone through hell, but that had to top them all.

I didn't think it would ever end. My hands were twisting, and my entire body was writhing by the near end of it. I could feel someone bearing down on my shoulders as I was pinned against the deck. In the midst of all that, my father still wrenched my own heart from my chest.

Blood was pouring at a rapid rate from my chest when it was over. But Bootstrap ran a hand against it, and I heard a soft thunk. I knew what it was, and I didn't even want to think about it. My heart dropped into the chest, and the lid snapped shut.

The pain began to fade. I could feel my flesh knitting itself together again. It wasn't exactly painful, but it felt too tight across my body, like a shirt that's wet that you try to get on. It stretched across my body, and the uncomfortable tightness wouldn't ease. But when a hand fell onto my shoulder my eyes slowly cracked open.

"William," my father whispered.

The overwhelming knowledge of what had just happened flooded into me. I lunged up to my knees, but couldn't get any farther. I had to use both hands to keep myself steady. My stomach turned over and over inside my gut, and I struggled not to be sick. I clapped a hand up against my chest, and felt with a pang, a long, inflamed scar running across my body.

"Its done," Bootstrap said gently. "It had to be," he murmured.

I looked at him, glaring harshly. I shook my head. "I didn't ask for that. I would have rather I died!"

But just as the sentence left my mouth, I saw what had happened. My father was no longer encrusted with sea life. The transformation was instant and amazing. And I looked at all the rest of the crew; they had under gone the same thing. They were all human again.

"The Dutchmen must have a Captain. The one who kills the Captain in the present succeeds him."

"Then it ought to be Jack," I spat. I struggled up to my feet, but I swayed, and my father had to catch me.

My father turned my face to meet his eyes. "You are Captain now. We take commands from you, and there's still an armada to defeat. What are your orders?"

I looked at him long and hard, then at the crew. They were all standing, looking at me, just as my father. They were men searching for a leader. And no matter my feelings at my situation, I wasn't going to let everyone I had fought so hard for, be destroyed.

I gave out orders just as easily as I had pounded my blacksmith's hammer. It seemed so natural. It felt wrong, right, and confusing at the same time. It was all the more strange when my words were obeyed.

As I watched our greatest foe sink into the yawning depths of the water, I was amazed. We had done it. We survived. We were free again.

In a moment after the battle, when the two ships were still close enough together so they could communicate if they had to, I was leaning up against the rail of the Dutchmen. I had acted as I had needed to in the battle, but now I brooded over my situation. I was Captain now. I could not go onto land but once every ten years. The knowledge tore at my non existent heart. Well, existent, but not even in my own body anymore.

"You'll get used to it, William," my father murmured softly as he approached.

"Somehow, I find that hard to believe," I muttered coldly.

My father leaned onto the rail beside me, shook his head, and then turned to meet my stony gaze. "William, you are more like me than you realize, and in such, I know you're blood is half salt water. You belong at sea. It just took a pirate to show you."

I gazed hard at him. He didn't back down, and I didn't expect him to. But I couldn't stop the bitter anger in me. "I belong with my wife," I growled, turning away from him.

"You will see her," he said gently. "Sooner than you think."

Just then, I heard a cry of happiness, and the sound of boots hitting wood. I spun around, and saw Elizabeth racing for me.

"You're alive!" she cried as I met her in an embrace and she took in the feel of my body.

I nodded, my eyes nearly brimming with tears. Elizabeth looked at me, her eyes shining with crystal droplets, her face radiating such happiness, it was hard to describe. But it melted when she traced a single finger down my scar.

"So they really did…?" she asked in a horrified whisper.

I nodded and sighed. "I would have died there if they hadn't, Elizabeth." I murmured.

"I know, its just hard to think that… that…" she couldn't get the words out. She fisted her hands into my jacket and looked up at me with eyes that welled with tears of sorrow.

I shook my head desperately. "I'm still here. I still love you. And I always will. Being Captain, even of this ship, would never change that."

She smiled a smile that I knew was forced. But I stroked her hair and whispered in her ear. "I'm allowed on land once every ten years; I think I get my day, now."

She grinned a wicked grin. I led her to an open space on the rail and while she waited for me, I turned back to my father. "First mate," I said with a firm nod. "Guard the ship. I'll be back."

He nodded with solemn ness and I turned back to Elizabeth. She was about to get into the dingy and I shook my head. "Follow me!" I teased. I leapt from the rail of the ship and plunged straight into the ocean.

I surfaced and shook my hair from my face. I watched her as she pulled out of her outer dress and body guards. I licked my lips as she revealed the purposefully torn, clinging black dress. She leapt into the ocean and swam directly for the beach.

The current wasn't that strong, and after a little bit, the waves helped us to the shore. When we reached the beach, I swept Elizabeth into my arms, and kissed her. She gasped with the power I drove my passion and she fisted her hands into my dark, wet hair.

"We'll you have me, now that its all quiet?" I whispered after I let her go.

"Don't forget, I'm a Captain now, and a Queen, even if you don't give me what I want, I'll just have to steal it!" She wrestled my shirt off me and laid me flat on my back on the beach's sand.

Captain and Queen she was, and she would always have my heart. Literally, figuratively, and everywhere in between. I had one thing, and one thing only to comfort me as we parted after our night together. That our night had been the best, wildest, most passionate, and most loving, that any of the Caribbean had ever witnessed. And that when another ten years rolled around, it would be even better.