A/n: I felt inspired!or more like, I was really bored and came up with an idea. Please review if you like it. Reviews keep me optomistic. I really hope you like it….it may or may not be cliché, I'm not sure if the ideas explored at the end have been put forth a lot, or not.

Will stood on his balcony by the sea watching Miss Sw-no, she's Elizabeth now, once and for all…even if you wish she wasn't.

As a bastard son growing up in England, Will had always known his place. He was, in fact, a very sorrowful mistake.

He knew when he was watching his mother be punished over and over again for her past that he would never be allowed to outrun it:

No matter what grimy truth his parents might each hide about their sins, he was as good as the son of a whore, and he was worth less than a whore for being born male.

But then his mother got sick and eventually died.

And her brother wanted nothing to do with the family disgrace.

And he took passage to the colonies, and everything changed.

Then his boat was attacked (by pirates, no less)! And everything was aflame…and then there was Elizabeth, as she was first Elizabeth, as the girl his age with the bright brown eyes who saved him…as an angel carrying him from his past into a new beginning.

She was the angel who allowed him to start over, and she was as perfect as the little boy him had made her out to be.

So why was it, after idelizing her for the whole of his new life, Captain Jack Sparrow had managed to enthrall him more than then his dreams of Elizabeth ever had? Why was he more anxious about rescuing Elizabeth with Jack, than he had been upon discovering her missing?

Why were his eyes more moved to follow Jack's, than hers when they were marooned upon the island?

It was all exaplainable away of course:

He was afraid that their rescuse mission might make things worse for Elizabeth. He was scared to put his life in the hands of a pirate, who could very well be working with the man who had kidnapped Elizabeth. After all, just because he had known his father, why would he help him? Didn't all pirates know each other? He knew that-between Elizebeth and Jack- Jack would be the one who could, and would, keep them alive. After all hadn't he survived the very same island once before?

And weren't he and Elizabeth meant to be together? Even their names were signifigant-his mother's favorite book when he was a child was Pride & Prejudice-a book about a very shy, socially inept man named Fitzwilliam and a headstrong, opinionated girl named Elizabeth. Didn't that fit them perfectly?

"Will?"

Didn't it? DIDN'T IT?

"Did I do something wrong?"

And that was it. No matter what- he loved Elizabeth, and he was being foolish brooding at the ocean on such a signifigant night.

She was the only one left who loved him.

"Will?"

And so he braced himself to turn around, and pretend like it hadn't been Jack's body he had envisioned upon entering their pitchblack room for the first time.

Pretend it hadn't been Jack's face he'd seen aglow in the darkness.

Pretend it hadn't been the rough texture of Jack's hair he'd imagined when he slipped his hand over her hair and tugged her to him.

Blood to blood, ashes to ashes, somewhere in the ocean he had killed his father by making him alive for a few minutes-just so he could drown him.

"Of course not," he turned around smiling. "How could you even think that?"

Pretend like somewhere in the ocean-he had known since Jack had gotten him drunk at the tavern their first night together- his father's old lover wasn't mourning his marriage that minute.

"I love you, Elizabeth."

It was all that simple really.

Just pretend.