I do NOT own Pirates. I own Rebecca and she's based off of a friend. If I owned Pirates, I most likely WOULD NO BE WRITING THIS RIGHT NOW!

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You Have No Idea

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Kneeling in the Governor's office was Rebecca Norrington, sobbing hysterically into gloved hands. Elizabeth Swann tried to calm her friend, to no avail.

"Father? May I inquire if I could possibly accompany Lady Norrington to her estates, to make sure all is well?" Elizabeth asked, eyes on her father, pleadingly.

Governor Swann shook his head slowly at his daughter. "I'm afraid not, dearest, you have pressing details to cover for me, remember?"

Elizabeth sighed and helped her friend up, leading her to the waiting carriage. In low tones to the other young girl, "I am very sorry about your loss, Rebecca. It pains my heart to see you this way."

A tearful smile was all Rebecca could manage as the carriage started off to her extremely empty house. She doffed her gloves and wiped her face with them, glaring spitefully at the sea outside the window.

"Mistress Norrington?" The driver, Tyler, asked. "Are you alright, mistress?" he was only of about fifteen at the most, and his voice was wavering. "Is Master Norrington alright, mistress?"

Rebecca swallowed and replied softly. "James has passed away, Tyler. I'll be fine after a few days." As the boy stopped the carriage she exited hastily, hurrying inside the doors as they were opened for her, still dabbing at her eyes.

She hastened to her room and tore off her dress, replacing them with breeches and an old worn shirt of James. She buried her nose in the soft fabric, breathing in the distinctive salt, ink and woody smell of her husband. The smell, no matter how comforting brought tears to her eyes and thoughts to her head. Overwhelmed, she threw herself onto her bed, hair still pinned up like, in male clothing.

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Two months passed quickly for Rebecca. She rarely left her house, was seen mainly by the members of her household, who kept quiet in the gossip pools of Port Royal. She remained in James' clothes; her dresses long forgotten in her bureau. Her hair long and unpinned, brushed down her back, and held only out of her face by a solitary black ribbon. Becca had refused to look at herself in a mirror; the once lovely Rebecca was no more, skin pale, eyes bloodshot and red.

She refused to speak with Elizabeth, her sisters Anne and Lily even her mother was not accepted inside the house.

It had been an arranged marriage that had fallen through years back, and then picked up again only a year ago. She had despised him at first, and now she had lost him. She sat dejectedly in the James' office, the last place that reminded her of him.

Her maid entered. "There's tea and someone to see you, Lady." The girl bobbed a curtsy and held the door open. Rebecca sighed.

"What did I tell you, Bitsy? I don't wish to see anyone right now." She started down the stairs anyway; she pushed open the door to the Tea Room and clasped a hand over her mouth at what she saw. There stood a disheveled James Norrington, scruffy as anything, but alive. Tears were rolling down her cheeks as she reached one hand out. "Oh, James… What has the world done to you?" Becca breathed, moving to him slowly, as if he wasn't real.

"Nothing I haven't deserved." He murmured, reaching out to pull her into a tight hug. He was crying, James Norrington, alive, James, crying. She buried her head in his chest and cried. His hands did long, slow strokes down her back, comforting her. He leaned back, one arm still around her waist, wiping her tears with his thumb, not caring about his own. "Becca…"

"How could you?" she yelled suddenly, striking out with her fists wildly, connecting twice before James pinned her arms to her side. "I was so worried, it hurt so much." She sobbed, dropping her head, stopping her fight. Sat down and pulled her into his lap, rocking her like she was a child.

"Becca, love, I have no control over the seas, over hurricanes, over Calypso. I wrote you as soon as I could, but it was lost along the way." He told her, voice hoarse as he held back tears. "I washed up in Tortuga, I joined Jack's crew, then made my way back here. To you." He tightened his grip. "I'm ever so sorry about not making sure you knew, sweet." He murmured.

She was silent.

He thought she was asleep.

Her comment was so soft; he thought he had imagined it. But it came again, a bit louder. "I thought I'd lost you forever, Jamie."

He cocked his head and smiled sadly in return. Said smile told only one thing. 'You have no idea.'