Title: Let ME Be Your Hero

Author: KatelynKat

Rating: T (teen) for violence, language, alcohol use, and innuendo/sensuality.

Summary: What if Elizabeth had stabbed the heart of Davy Jones instead of Will? Will he be the one to save her from her deathly fate? Or will she enlist the help of a different and more . . . eccentric hero?

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these glorious characters, just the main plot . . . YEAH I own something! Take that Disney!

Author's Note: Thank you especially for the lovely reviews my darlings you inspired me to write more and I got a great idea so stay tuned! :D So majorly sorry for no update in a while I have been deathly busy, I swear . . . but I pinkie promise a new chapter is coming immensely soon.

~Chapter Two~

More Than a Pirate Meeting

But since the infamous Jack Sparrow was the only one that believed Elizabeth, where did that leave her?

Elizabeth looked down to her feet. Her mouth hung open slightly, from the shock of her rather impulsive actions. How did she get here? It was remarkable how Elizabeth Swann had gone to pirate from the Governor of Port Royal's daughter in such little time. She was completely baffled, not knowing how to feel. She had always wanted and longed desperately for freedom. She did love sailing very much, and being able to journey all around the world . . . if that wasn't freedom what was? But really being captain of the Flying Dutchman didn't appear to be freedom at all. In fact, it really was eerily similar to prison. It was either fare the souls over to the next life, being granted one day of liberty, or end up like a living dead monstrous creature. She shuddered at the thought. Meanwhile, as these thoughts quickly burned in the back of Elizabeth's mind, Jack Sparrow furrowed his eyebrows lost in thought.

Jack Sparrow was always one to go after what he wanted. If Hector had a two feet long telescope, Jack would swipe a seventy foot telescope. If Hector mutinied upon him and marooned him on a Godforsaken spit of land, with only one bullet, Jack would use the one pistol granted to personally shoot him and make sure he burned in Hell. But this time . . . it's close to virtually impossible that he would somehow figure out a way to switch places with Elizabeth. Could this be, the first time in history when Jack Sparrow didn't get what he wanted?

"Cap'n?" Gibbs looked towards Jack, concerned. He could tell that something had him vexed; by the way he was just blatantly staring out into sea. As he took a few steps closer, he could tell something was really bothering him, for there was a full bottle of rum next to him, completely untouched. Gibbs sighed. Great . . . what bodes ill for Jack Sparrow bodes ill for us all . . . the old man thought.

"Aye?" Barbossa replied, indirectly. Everybody's eyes leeched over to him, slowly.

"Give it a rest, Hector. We both know I am the rightful captain of the Black Pearl." Jack's eyes glazed over from a dreary Elizabeth to Barbossa. He knew who he was, who he had introduced himself as, for thirteen years. Captain Jack Sparrow. He knew he was captain of the Black Pearl. But now he would never be captain of the Flying Dutchman. He thought he would be boiling mad at the thought of someone else taking his title. But he wasn't. He actually felt remorse for Elizabeth, since well, she was a woman, er, girl . . . a female, after all. What did she know about being a captain? Jack noticed that still no one was taking this seriously. He had to do something. He was hesitant to walk over to her. When he did, Elizabeth didn't move. She didn't do anything. She just stood there waiting for him to do something, to say something. He went up to her and whispered in her ear discretely, "come to my cabin."

Elizabeth's eyes widened slightly, as she wasn't exactly sure what Jack was implying here. But that didn't mean she wasn't eager to find out. She looked over to Will. He appeared to be hauling a sword out of Davy Jones' now dead body. And having quite a struggle at it. She figured that he would be occupied with that business for a while; suffice to say he won't be looking for her if she's missing. She swallowed hard and followed Jack to his cabin.

Once inside, she took a look around. She realized that she had never been in here before. She noticed that it was a quaint little lodging, and not entirely what she had imagined. Well, she wasn't even sure what she imagined. Possibly a place that was messy and unorganized, dirty and well, pirate-like. Though it was anything but. It was . . . comfortable. Elizabeth looked over to Jack. He was preoccupied with pouring rum into some glasses. Her eyes darted to a painting that Jack had framed on his desk. She tilted it towards her and snuck in a quick glance. The painting was of a woman, about nineteen or twenty years of age. The woman was slim, a bit plain, she found, but nonetheless beautiful. She had semi-long brunette locks that curled perfectly around her whole head. She had a set of matching chocolate eyes that sparkled in the dim light. As she studied the portrait, she found herself wondering what Jack would be doing, owning not just a painting, but a painting of a woman. Was she some royal that was perhaps a patron of the arts? Elizabeth frowned at her own thinking. Where would Jack get the money to even breathe the same air as a fine, rococo portrait? Could she have possibly been a woman that Jack had had previous . . . uh, relations with? Most likely. Elizabeth let out a heavy sigh. The thought of Jack having a dominant love interest sent sparks of envy through her veins . . . And what woman would Jack Sparrow be treasuring so much as to put on his desk in his cabin? She certainly was no Mona Lisa.

Jack turned around and saw Elizabeth holding the picture. His eyes widened a tad as he said strongly, "Care for a drink?" Jack's almost whispered voice was enough to startle Elizabeth. Startle her so much as to drop the picture frame and well, break it. Jack immediately rushed over.

"Oh, Jack. . . I'm so sorry." She bent down to help pick up the shattered pieces of glass.

"T's all right. Accidents happen, love," he stated quite calmly. He let out a small sigh, but not so loud that she could hear. Pangs of disappointment flew through him like a needle.

"I don't—I don't know what came over me. I—I didn't mean to be look—"

"Elizabeth," he took her hand. "It's all right."

Elizabeth studied Jack. She was a bit surprised at hearing her first name come out of the pirate's mouth. She realized that she had never noticed that shiny gleam in his great, big brown eyes. She was going to correct him, but she figured to let it go. She stopped for a second, just to marvel at him.

Jack felt her glare and glazed his eyes over to her. "Elizabeth—"

"Miss Swann!" She snapped at him, interrupting rudely. That time she had to interfere, she didn't want to give Jack the wrong idea. She had already felt remorse; she didn't need the extra humiliation. There was a silence for a couple of seconds which made her question whether or not to take it back, or simply apologize. She decided not to.

After a moment, he held up his hands, gesturing that he meant no harm by it. Elizabeth was a bit transfixed and pensive that she hadn't noticed she cut her finger on a sharp piece of glass. She gasped rather loudly. Jack looked up and saw her bleeding finger. He grabbed her by the hand to take a look at the prick. His hands were warm at the touch, and made Elizabeth flinch a bit. She supposed she was so used to Will's rough touch she expected Jack's to be like that too. But surprisingly, they weren't. They were warm . . . and soft; though they had a dirty exterior, and seemed like they were worn out and beat up, they weren't. They were quite the opposite; they were smooth and welcoming.

Jack looked over from her finger to her upper arm area. He saw that she had been wounded critically. Jack's eyes widened a bit; it gave him quite a shock at how Elizabeth was coping with a gash like that. His eyes widened, and his mouth slightly fell ajar. "You're bleeding," he announced, dumfounded.

Elizabeth unglued her gaze from Jack to look at her injury. She took her other hand and brought it up to her suffering shoulder. She gently pressed against it. She winced in pain and let out a groan. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly and she swallowed hard. She took a big deep breath in, trying to focus on something other than her wound. Maybe if she didn't think about it, the piercing pain would subside. That usually worked, but at the moment the only other thing she could even remotely think about was who the hell the woman in the painting was, and that was a dangerous road to go down. Maybe if she stopped looking at the injury, out of sight, out of mind right? She nodded, agreeing with herself. She looked up, only to see Jack right in front of her face. She didn't expect to see him there, so she jumped back quite a bit. Just her luck, she fell on her butt on the bed. She screeched just a bit, mortified for the millionth time today. She gave up on attempting to decrease her pain, and covered her face completely in her hands. She leaned back, so that she was sprawled out all over the bed. She laughed a bit in her own self-pity.

Jack saw this and quickly stood up and rushed towards the back of the room while calling out, "Hold on!" A few minutes later, he hurried back. "Here." He held out what looked like gauze, and took a seat next to her on the bed, moving her leg over slightly, awkwardly . . . and pressed it on her arm, firmly, but not so much as to hurt her. She sat up and he moved the gauze with her movements. It appeared to be soaked with cold water. Elizabeth flinched on instinct. "Sorry love, it was either the ocean . . . or rum. And trust me that burns like hell."

She laughed a bit at his remark. She could only imagine what he, being a pirate, had been through. And judging by all the scars and marks he had on his body, the years had not been kind to him. "Thank you." She put her hand to the gauze, mistaking it for Jack's hand. For some reason, she loved his touch and never ever wanted him to let go. She kept her hand on his for a while, until finally Jack looked down.

He said in a hushed tone, "here." He undid the piece of cloth around his own left hand. The one that had once bared the black spot, and placed it upon Elizabeth's cut up arm. He made an effort to be as gentle as ever with her. Like a petal falling ever so delicately off of a rose in the midsummer garden, how it falls down and blows gently in the wind. He brought the cloth up under her arm and started tying. He pulled it extremely lightly to finish off the knot. "There you are."

"You're good at it," she admired, baffled by his actions. She felt somehow, welcomed by the way he moved.

"Pirate, love. You've got to learn how to fend for yourself," Jack stated wisely.

"Yes, I suppose so . . ." she trailed off, thinking.

"Well I," –he pointed to himself—"know so."

She studied his face very quickly and found herself beginning to tear up. It was only a matter of seconds before she would begin to sob. She buried her face in her hands, ashamed. After a minute of grievance, she looked up, but not all the way as to make eye contact with Jack. She felt too mortified to do so. So she simply stared at the damp, wooden floorboards and said, "I-I'm sorr—"

Jack held his hand up to her face, shushing her. This time, she looked up only to find Jack's gaze fixated on his coat pocket. Of course, she thought. He probably thinks I'm some sort of attention grabbing wench who can't help but cry about any fate-twisting events. She saw him reach for one of his side pockets and pull out something and handed it to her. It was a handkerchief. Elizabeth leaned over a little to retrieve it and tried to smile a bit. Quite the contrary, she thought. "You really do think of everything don't you?" She marveled at him.

"Time and tide, love," Jack replied, being as witty as ever. Turning quite quickly from humourous to serious, Jack knew there was something he had to do. Elizabeth was entirely incapable of faring souls over to the other side, only being allowed a mere twenty four hours on land once every ten years. Just look at that bodice! Highly unlikely to stash anything, but seeing as now she was immortal there really didn't seem no need . . . ah, still! She was delicate, and she needed to learn how to fend for herself, how to stick to a job for all of eternity. And what if she didn't get the job done . . . what would happen to that pretty little face of hers then? Jack cringed at the thought of seeing her like that . . . he wouldn't be able to bear it . . . but why did he even care? He was Captain Jack Sparrow, and Captain Jack Sparrow only cares about two things: his ship and his self. But this was different . . . for some unknown reason he couldn't stop feeling that terrible feeling for Elizabeth . . . but what was that horrendous feeling? Shut it, Jackie you're just hungry. Aye, that's it . . . haven' 'ad a sensible meal since last week. He thought. Could it have been compassion? Was Jack Sparrow having sympathy for Elizabeth? He tried to stuff the thought away.

Elizabeth noticed Jack had been silent for the past five minutes. She looked up at him. He looked as if he had just seen a ghost. She had heard him mumble a few things, but they went by unnoticed. She figured he was just talking to himself but what was he saying? She was very curious. Anything to take her mind off of what is to come, shortly. "So it would seem," she said, lightly in an attempt to break the deafening silence. She was about to say something else, but argued against it when she noticed Jack completely ignored her last words. She cleared her throat like, AHEM to make him fall out of his unexpected trance. Nope, he still was oblivious. She rolled her eyes.

Her heart! They're going to rip her literally bloody heart out! Jack thought. The gruesome realization had only just come to him. He had merely forgotten about the gory and twisted, sick ritual of becoming Captain of the Flying Dutchman. This was probably the only con he had on his list of why not to become the captain. The pain . . . must be unbearable and entirely excruciating. Jack couldn't even imagine a more physically painful death. But still, to him that seemed like a fair enough price to pay for freedom of death itself forever. To be dead but living . . . Jack's ultimate dream.

To finally break Jack out of his extreme trance, there was a hard knock at the door. Jack jumped up immediately at the "Shave and a Haircut" rhythmic knocking. (A/N: "Shave and a Haircut" is the "dundundundundun DA DA!" knock, it's like the most basic one…if you still don't know what I'm talking about, search it! I guarantee you've heard it before!) "Who would use that knock of all the knocks out there?" Jack exclaimed, making Elizabeth giggle momentarily. He walked over, stumbling on something on the floor. He looked down brusquely only to find that it was his gun. "Bloody thing . . ." he mumbled a few other words, incoherent to Elizabeth. He bent down and picked it up, placing it on his weapon belt that hung around his waist. He took a few more steps, more cautiously this time, staring at the floor and opened the door swiftly. He looked up, only to wish that he didn't. It was Will. "Ahhh makes sense," he smirked smugly and turned to Elizabeth, "the eunuch uses that specific knock at a blasted time like this!" Elizabeth couldn't help but snort back a chuckle, but tried to stop herself, as this was her fiancé, he was talking about. But she knew there was a hint of truth behind it.

"What?" stammered Will in confusion. He was a bit clueless at the moment. He watched Jack closely as he snidely and quite rudely lowered his head while he snorted and chuckled for a few seconds. Jack clutched the side of the door for balance, as he swayed a bit, due to the new violent waves. Will copied his previous offensive actions, for revenge on his bad fated karma.

"All right, that'd be enough of all of that, uh . . . business . . . what do ye want?" Jack raised his voice, now annoyed at Will. But then again, what trait did Will possess that didn't irritate Jack on a daily basis? The fact that he was betrothed to Elizabeth was bad enough . . . not that he cared.

"I'm looking for Elizabeth, is she in here?" Jack's eyes widened the slightest bit. Will was oblivious that Elizabeth was in his cabin? Opportunity was certainly knocking for Jack, and not to the tune of "Shave and a Haircut," at that! He smiled a crooked smile that curved at the end of the corner of his mouth. After all, he was never one to pass up a wonderful opportunity. But he did feel a twinge of guilt, so he looked back at Elizabeth, hinting at whether or not he should lie. Her eyes were wide, and she had an anxious look on her tiny face. She shook her head back and forth fiercely. Jack was a bit shocked, but nonetheless turned around back to Will.

"Sorry mate, but as it would seem, you're out of luck." Jack clicked his tongue once like, "whadda ye gonna do?"

Will furrowed his eyebrows in utter confusion. He was pretty sure he saw her stumble in here with Jack. He looked down at the ground, thinking for a moment. Don't take his word for it . . . he is a pirate. His chocolate eyes darted back to Jack, who was, in fact, watching his every move made. Once Jack noticed Will's focus was back on him, he smiled to make the lie seem more convincing. Though it was really the other way around. Will squinted and threw him a dirty look. "Are you sure?" He asked, questioning his motives.

"What do you mean 'am I sure?' I'm positive." he stretched the last word out, enunciating to make it seem clearer for dear William. This time he felt a little nervous sensation in his stomach. If Will busted inside the room, well, that might end up badly, let's just say.

"Somehow, I don't believe you. Can I come in?" Well, at least he asked, Jack thought. But still. This was really not good at all. What was he supposed to do, use his magic wand to transport Elizabeth to the main deck or make her somehow disappear into thin air?

"Erm . . . I don't think that would be a particularly correct idea . . ." Jack said, making no sense whatsoever, while at the same time trying to stall Will as he motioned a hand behind his back. He waved his left hand freely, trying to gesture that Elizabeth should hide. She raised her eyebrows and looked around. There was no hiding place in this cabin, at all. She looked down, and nodded to herself. Under the bed. She knelt down and looked underneath. Just like she figured, sheltered with dust. She whined, but decided to suck it up and literally rolled herself under it.

Will rolled his eyes, slightly. "Oh really? And why's that?" He most definitely wasn't letting Jack off that easily. He noticed his arm flying all over the place behind his back. "And what are you doing?"

"I had an itch," Jack replied without a thought. What? "Probably got a rash, highly contagious I tell you, so if you'll be on your way—" Jack decided to stop himself mid-sentence before he said anything else incredibly . . . stupid.

Jack looked down from Will's face, to his drenched puffy shirt. He noticed a bulge in the middle of his chest. He squinted partially, to try and make out the noticeable lump. He scrunched up his face, having complete concentration on it. It shined somewhat, from the drops of rain still lightly falling, the aftermath of the maelstrom. "Take your hand away from your back!" Will ordered.

"Take your shirt off!" Jack threw back, and once he heard the words out of his mouth, he completely regretted them. Subconsciously, on impulse, he raised his hand from behind his back to his lips, covering them in embarrassment. That sounded a bit too . . . erm . . . eunuch-y. Scratch that, it sounded utterly and completely far-fetched and eunuch-y.

Meanwhile, Will retorted and took a step back, a bit worriedly. "What?" he asked. "Are you drunk?" he was desperately hoping the answer was yes . . . but then again, he didn't want to look like a woman. But still, that'd be better than what he even thought he was remotely getting at . . . "Who would've thought Jack Sparrow swung both ways?" he chuckled at his own comment.

Jack gave him a dirty look. "As much as you wish I did, William, I didn't mean it that way." Will's face fell flat. "What I meant was what be that thing right there?" He leaned forward and poked the shiny object through his shirt. With the one light touch, the delicate object fell through everything, landing on the wooden floors, making a rather loud, clanking sound. Jack looked down and gasped lowly.

"You're here to cut out her heart . . ." Jack stated, trying to make things more clear for himself. He was shocked that Will would have the balls to do this to a man he hates . . . much or less his own fiancé . . . Jack himself didn't even think he'd be able to do it. The nerve of him, the audacity. Will was here to slaughter Elizabeth in his own cabin . . . good thing Jack lied or else he'd never be able to sleep in his own quarters ever again. "Why would you do that . . ." Jack whispered, and then trailed off.

"They told me too. If it wasn't me, the crewmen would have to do it and then she'd immediately be turned into a sea creature," Will said, expressionless.

"Why?" Jack inquired; he hadn't heard this part of the ritual . . .?

"Because I'm the one who's going to be waiting for her for ten years. Apparently, Calypso can be crueler than she seems, to make the person's true love be the one to kill them." This time, Will looked down at the floor, a bit ashamed.

Jack marveled at him. Feeling bad for a moment or so, and then snapped, "Well, like I said before she's not in here so, out you go!" Jack was more than happy to slam the door on him, and resistant to yell "And don't come back!" Will forced the door closing, making Jack open it fully once again. "Yes?" he asked, in an irritated tone.

"IF you do see her, will please tell her to find me?" Will pleaded mercy in his deathly cold eyes.
"Sure thing," Biggest lie Jack had ever spoken? He would surely say so. This time, Jack wasn't the slightest bit hesitant to swing the door hard right on Will's disgusting face. Jack took a few steps back inside of his cozy little cabin when-
KNOCK KNOCK!
"What now!" He walked back, this pattern was becoming a bit too familiar, stomping his feet as though that would rid him of his uncontrollable anger at the moment. He opened the door fiercely but to his surprise, calmly let out "What do you want now?" deep frustration in his voice.
"I almost forgot, I still don't believe you, believe it or not," the young blacksmith declared through his incredibly phony smile.
"Fine. Search me damn quarters, order a wench or two, if ye want, have a party, go crazy! Because frankly, I certainly don' care 'nymore." Jack stepped aside politely allowing Will to pass and he walked straight through Jack's sarcasm. He took a quick glance around and surveyed the medium-sized quarters. He didn't see anything suspicious, but just then he caught bloody bits of torn up cloth from the corner of his eye. He pointed with a blank expression on his face, looking intently. "What's that?"
Jack's eyes scattered all across the room as he tried to muster up a legible lie. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he blurted out, "I got shot," soon regretting it. Will turned right around as soon as he heard this and studied Jack's body all over, carefully.
"What, where?"
"I'd rather not say . . ." Jack soon regretted saying that as well. Just shut up . . . now you've gone and made it seem like you just got shot in the-
". . . I think I'll be leaving now." Will stated, uneasily feeling the awkward shock waves pervading the air, whilst also interrupting Jack's disturbing thoughts. Will turned around only to find Jack's neutral face switching to that of a guilty smile.
"Nothin' to hide." Oh, the irony.
"As it would seem . . ." Will wandered himself out the door.
Jack slammed it for what seemed like the hundredth time tonight, and this time yelled, "And stay out!" But that whelp kept coming back so many times that Jack was running out of insults. After a minute or so, he told Elizabeth that it was safe to come out, and she did so, giggling all the while.
"What could possibly be funny at a time like this?" he said in a hushed tone.
"Oh, nothing," she started, nonchalantly moving on top of the comfortable bed, pushing aside the leftover cloth, "maybe the fact that you made it seem like you took a bullet to the-"
"I know what I said, all right?" Jack raised his voice a bit, getting one last chuckle out of Elizabeth. Becoming more serious, Elizabeth cleared her throat.
"So he's come to turn me into some heartless beast?" Jack looked down then, not knowing how to respond to what she now thought of herself. To his utter dismay, his eyes landed on where the dagger had dropped. The cursed dagger that's mission was to cut- wait a minute, this was his sword, not Will's! Well it used to be a sword before Davy Jones' claw chopped half of the blade off. Why would Will use his sword to kill Elizabeth . . . since he was the chosen one, shouldn't Will be using a sword he made himself? There definitely was something that Will was leaving out . . . and Jack was determined to find out just what that something was. But for now, he had to deal with the issue at hand- Elizabeth's self-wallowing. He was never good with serious matters like these, so he decided to turn it not so serious, well for now. He picked up the remains of what used to be a sword, careful not to let Elizabeth know what was just previously mentioned (the poor girl had enough problems, hadn't she?) What she doesn't know won't hurt her, he decided. With the dagger placed firmly in his right hand, he inched towards Elizabeth slowly, putting a little swing in his step.
"Yes, he's going to take this here knife and pierce it through your heart, because being the heartless bastard that he already is, he needs to use your heart to replace his own. Maybe then he'll act less stupid and eunuch-y, only if we're lucky though!" He attempted in a teasing voice. He gently climbed on top of her, as her back was resting against the soft mattress. With each of his legs in between her middle, he hunched over her, slowly moving the dagger closer and closer to her quite dramatically. She giggled a bit, making fun of Will really isn't what she had intended to do, but since she was adequately mad at him at the moment, she decided to just go ahead and laugh. She looked up at him again, and laughed even harder.
"One of the braids in your beard is undone."
He looked own, though it was useless since he could faintly see. "Bugger . . . oh well, startin' a new fashion trend, love."
She chuckled twice again. "Here." She raised her hands to fix it when she felt the coldness of a sharp blade pressed against her fingers.
"Touch it an' those pretty little hands get it," he announced playfully.
She retracted her hands and waved them, gesturing that she meant overall no harm. "As you wish, captain." She giggled again.
At that moment, the door flung right open. It went by unnoticed to Elizabeth and Jack, as they were both in the middle of a laughing fit. "Jack, I think I left my- Elizabeth!" It was Will. Jack swiveled right around at the sound of his low voice and slowly the dagger fell out of his hand and made two loud clanking noises on the hard floor. Jack gulped down a swallow while Elizabeth remained completely calm and propped herself up on the bed with her elbows.
"Hello Will."

WHOO cliffhanger! I know you all must hate me: not uploading in ages and now a cliffhanger. Yep. Well I just wanted to get this out there because I do want to continue this story. Please review! You don't have to, just knowing that you read this would be nice though (=
Thank you all for your wonderful patience!