A/N: Thank you so much for your encouraging reviews! The historical information near the end of this chapter is accurate, I actually did research it. Nothing but JE in this chapter except at the end. Oh, and a BIG thank-you to my fantastic beta, Jack.Sparrow.1245. You're awesome.

Disclaimer: PotC belongs to Disney.

Chapter 4: The Different Faces of Rum

The Black Pearl was nearing its destination. Jack could see the island just on the horizon and was growing more and more anxious by the minute. He told Gibbs to take the helm and walked to a certain pirate lass who was standing at the railing. Well, her and someone else…

He came up from behind, embracing her tightly and resting his chin on her shoulder, causing a beautiful smile to grace her lips.

"How are ye today, luv?" he asked, burying his nose in her sweet, golden hair.

"Oh, we're fine, aren't we, Lily?" she replied, looking down at the six year old girl who looked so much like her father.

The little girl nodded and smiled widely as Jack picked her up and sat her on the railing, holding her carefully so as not to let her drop.

"What brings you here, Jack? I thought you were busy at the helm." Elizabeth inquired in a teasing voice, eliciting a smirk from her captain.

"Well, luv, I was but I figure I'd do the honor of telling me wife…" he paused, kissing her tenderly, "and me daughter that we're almost at the Fountain." he finished, patting Lily's head.

Elizabeth's eyes widened considerably. "You're not serious. The Fountain of Youth? You mean… you mean we've made it?"

"Almost, darling. An hour, two at the most and we'll be eternally happy immortals. The Immortal Captain Sparrows. Has a nice ring to it, aye?"

"Aye, aye Captain." She whispered into his ear seductively.

In what seemed like less than five minutes, they had reached the island and were getting off, the entire crew following Jack and his family to the source of the enchanted water.

He was the first to grab one of the crystal glasses and dip it in the murky liquid, bringing it to his lips. Elizabeth cringed as he drank the seemingly dirty water and was shocked to see the look of complete contentment on his face when he swallowed. After he downed the entire drink, he held the glass out in front of him and looked at it in wonder.

"Bugger…" he said, mesmerized by the brown water.

Elizabeth grew worried and frowned in confusion. "Jack?" His smile widened. "Jack, what is it, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, luv." He chuckled softly. "But whatever ye do… please don't burn it."

"Burn what?" she asked, not having the slightest clue as to what he was even referring to.

"The Fountain. It's not the water that's enchanted. It's immortalizing rum." he said with an infectious smirk.

He awoke to find himself and Elizabeth in the exact same position as the night before, although he had a feeling that they were a bit closer, and this time not by his doing. He smiled at the peace he felt, making him recall his dream in which he and Elizabeth were husband and wife and had a daughter. A beautiful little girl who was the incarnation of her darling mother. This, however unfortunate it may be, was not reality and would most likely never become so, but he was comforted by the similar serenity he felt in the dream of just having her cuddled in his arms.

He took a moment just to watch her, to look at her because it was at times like this that her true feelings, her true self was laid bare. He could see her for who she was and not who she tried so desperately to be. She seemed so innocent when she was asleep and yet, he knew that her innocence had been taken from her long ago. The moment she had been kidnapped by Barbossa and his cursed pirate crew, she lost whatever virtue she had so carefully guarded back in Port Royal. The whole endeavor, the entire experience brought out the pirate in her. It brought to light the pirate that she was, that she had been all along. The pirate that had an insatiable curiosity and an unquenchable lust for adventure. He was proud of her. She knew how to keep her mask on well and her true thoughts concealed. And so he took great pleasure in seeing her this way. Simple and pure. It was these moments he savored and craved more of.

As though fate were toying with him, Elizabeth began to stir and she opened her eyes ever so slowly coming face to face with Captain Jack Sparrow's obsidian kohl-lined eyes, the ones that always seemed to draw her in. This time was no exception.

At first she had no idea where she was, but after blinking a few times she realized the position she was in and noticed with utmost delight that he was staring at her with a gaze so tenderly adoring that she couldn't quite bring herself to pull away from his embrace. It slightly alarmed her how…how sincere and meaningful his expression seemed. All she could think about was the powerful intimacy of this moment. It was as though all past fouls and regrets had been forgotten leaving just the two of them in resolute silence which, oddly enough, resembled tranquility.

No words were spoken as they continued to lock eyes with one another, each confessing their discreet desires that were not meant to be said out loud. Elizabeth thought of the time when she lived in Port Royal before she became familiar the life she now led. How she had been unwillingly sheltered in that dreadfully ordinary way of life, unable to see and experience things for herself. Sheltered? She scoffed inwardly. More like imprisoned. And when she looked into Jack's dark, mysteriously alluring eyes, it made her forget she was ever imprisoned leaving only good, happy thoughts of freedom.

When she felt Jack's hand gently caressing her arm, something inside her snapped her back into reality and with fierce quickness, she jumped out of bed, somehow managing to retain her feline grace. Jack's face fell as he finally acknowledged that the moment was over and soon, she would be yelling and screaming and possibly slapping him for even thinking he could touch her in such a way. Oh well, he thought. At least she's cute when she's angry.

Yet, to his bemusement, she didn't start screaming or even showing any signs of aggression. She just stood there, her bottom lip quivering, eyes alert and untrusting. Jack slowly sat up, taking a deep breath thinking that perhaps she simply had a moment of weakness and the yelling would be imminent, but he was wrong. She continued to stand there looking distraught and confused. She wanted to scream. She had every right. Hell, she had every duty to shout at him, tell him what a dirty scoundrel he was, accuse him of having dishonorable intentions and betraying her after she so generously offered to share the bed to him, granted it wasn't even her bed. She couldn't do any of that, though. She didn't truly believe that he had tried to violate her in any way. Elizabeth knew Jack was a good man, and that was part of what was confusing her so much. He was being genuine. She looked at him and mentally scolded herself for acting so strange in his presence, then decided to put off contemplating the vague meaning of the otherwise innocent gestures. Smilingly, she sat next to him on the bed, acting as natural and casual as possible.

"Morning, Lizzie." he offered, pleased when no slap followed his words. "Sleep well?"

"Good morning, Jack. Or should I say buenos dias?" she said in a perfect accent.

His eyes widened in both fear and astonishment. "Where'd ye learn how to say that, luv?"

"Oh, it's just about the only Spanish I know." she replied, her mind seeming to be somewhere else. "Back in Port Royal, my father tried to get me to learn as many languages as possible but I never got to Spanish, mostly French and Dutch." she explained plainly.

"Quite the cultured one, aren't you." he said, smirking.

"Me?" she asked, shocked. "What about you? You're the one who knows how to say 'more rum' in Spanish. Or do you make it a point to know how to say that in every language?" Her voice was teasing, and he wondered if perhaps she really did not know what he had told her last night.

His smirk widened when he noticed a glint of amusement in her eyes. "Actually… my mother was from Peru. She taught me the language when I was younger." She smiled, knowing that she was probably one of the few people who knew this about the infamous Jack Sparrow. "Before she died." he added solemnly.

Elizabeth gasped and placed her warm hand on Jack's, rubbing her thumb gently across knuckles. "I'm so sorry, Jack. That's just terrible. How did she-"

"Beckett." he said ruefully, thankful that the bastard was finally dead and gone, alleging his mother and Elizabeth's father's death.

Elizabeth went speechless. So Beckett had killed Jack's mother. But why would he…? And then she remembered Gibbs' story about Jack once working for the Company. Beckett wanted revenge after Jack freed all those slaves much like he wanted revenge after she turned pirate. It was then that she understood why Jack had looked so sad and distant when her father had died. It wasn't because he was still upset with her for killing him. It was because he could relate and one of his parents was taken away by the same way for relatively the same reason. In a way, they had both brought on those deaths. It was their fault caused by their choices. But there was no going back on a choice once you made it, and that was why she would have to be careful. If she made the wrong choice this time, yet another life would be lost or at least put in danger. Yet, at the same time, it was also no use blaming themselves for what happened.

She didn't even notice that she was crying until Jack began to wipe the tears away, a concerned look plastered on his face. "What's wrong, luv?" He knew all too well what was wrong. It had only been a few months since her father's death and this kind of wound stuck around. It never left but merely hid itself, lurking in the shadows of one's memory, just waiting to show itself and bring back the pain along with it. She had only had one good cry over her father and Jack felt it was time for another so without a second thought, he pulled her against him allowing her head to rest against his chest, comforting her with the soothing motions of his hands on her back. "It's alright darling. Let it out." Let it out, she did. Jack cringed at her muffled sobs and sometimes hysterical cries. Death was not an easy thing to deal with, that much he knew and so, he let her soak his shirt with her tears and he continued to hold her close, never letting go, never letting her feel alone.

When she finally pulled back her eyes were red and puffy, but she felt much better on the inside. She had been holding it all in and it just wasn't healthy. She felt freer now. Not only because she let go of all her emotions that had been bottled up but, in her anguish, she found assurance. Never in a million years would she have thought that Jack had it in him to sit with someone while they cried their hearts out and, at the same time, offer solace even when he himself had been through the same thing. Perhaps he had an even bigger heart, and perhaps an even bigger part of him was a good man than she had originally anticipated.

"Feel better?" he asked in all seriousness.

She nodded meekly. "Yes. Thank you." she whispered.

"Back to me old question. Did ye sleep well?"

A small laugh escaped her lips, amused at how easily he could get his humor back. "Yes, very well. And you?"

"Just splendidly." he replied with an impish smile. "And…" he trailed off, unsure of how to say what he wanted to say.

"What is it, Jack? What's wrong?" He smiled at her worry, thinking of the Elizabeth (the one that was his wife) in his dream saying the exact same thing to him. For some reason, it made him feel nice and warm inside, gave him a scrap of faith, however unlikely and hopeless that faith may be.

"I'm not really good at telling people this, so I'll just come right out and say it." She braced herself. "Thank ye for helping me out last night, luv. Like ye said to me, 'ye didn't have to and yet you did'."

He was a bit confused by her disappointment, but shook it off when she smiled once again, even if the smile did seem a bit forced. "You're welcome, Jack."

The rest of the morning went by relatively quickly, complete with a wonderful breakfast prepared by Marty and a pleasant conversation that followed the meal. Elizabeth truly felt at home with the Pearl's crew. They had grown to like her, as well. After all, she was their King, but it went beyond forced loyalties and excessively overdone politeness. They really, genuinely liked her. Even Barbossa's ex-crew Pintel and Ragetti - as well as others - liked her and enjoyed talking to her. She had proven that she was one of them. She pulled her weight on the ship and always offered a helping hand to the crew. She was a captain, now, herself and could be off on her own ship but they admired the fact that she was modest enough and willing to serve under another captain and collaborate with his crew instead of trying to undermine his authority. And she liked feeling accepted. They were like her second family. Her first family, even, considering everybody else was dead.

Well, everybody but Will. Her husband. Strange, how she seemed to have to remind herself of that little detail every so often. Maybe it was because of a pirate captain who seemed to be there for her more than Will ever was that her mind kept purposely forgetting that little detail and, consequently, forgetting its purpose. What did it mean to be husband and wife? She feared she would never find out. Her husband was never there. Even when she had gone to him by his own request, he just left. It hurt her in a way, but it also made her feel less obligated to return to the island. Ever. What did she owe him now? Why couldn't she just sail the seas until that one day? Well, there was still the matter of that damned chest, but it was well hidden and she had the key. She had all of her belongings there as well, but she had no doubts that Jack would shower her with new clothes and weapons. All she had to do was say the word. There really was no need to go back if she didn't want to, and each moment she spent with Jack made her want it less and less.

After breakfast, Elizabeth decided to go about the ship and explore a bit more. Yes, she knew the Black Pearl well, but not well enough. She had never even been inside the rum cellar before!

The rum cellar. That's it! I could certainly use some rum right now… What is it about this ship and that man that makes me act like a different person?! Perhaps rum is a good idea. It always helps Jack, so it should help me too.

With that, she went about the ship looking for the rum cellar. Jack was at the helm and, having seen her wandering about, wondered what exactly she was looking for. It better not be the bloody rum, he thought, refusing to believe that he could trust her near his precious drink. Speaking of rum, he could certainly use some right now. His mind was a mess and he wouldn't even get started on how jumbled up his heart was. Nothing was making sense, and yet everything seemed clearer. It was almost like a paradox of sorts for everything that was, and also wasn't at the same time. Very strange thoughts, indeed. Better I get that rum now, eh?

"Mr. Cotton!" he called.

The old man approached his captain and took over the helm. "Shiver me timbers!" replied his parrot.

Jack walked below deck and went into his cabin to get the keys to the rum cellar. He smirked to himself when he saw the bed. The bed they had shared last night. Not the time for those kinds of thoughts, mate. That's after the rum. He quickly left the room before even more images and feelings entered his mind. When he got to the door, it was a sight to behold.

Elizabeth was crouched down on both knees concentrating on trying to pick the lock with nothing but her hairpin, grunting in disapproval when the door refused to budge. It was when she heard a small laugh that she turn to see Jack leaning against the wall, studying her with a smirk playing about his face.

"Any luck?" he asked, clearly amused by the situation.

She frowned slightly, pouting her lips. "No, actually. And before you say anything, I can't believe you keep the rum locked up! Do you honestly not trust your crew?"

"Of course I trust me crew, luv. But ye see, the thing is that one can never be too careful. Ever since ye burned the rum I've been protective of it. Can't risk have something like that happen again, aye?" he joked.

She rolled her eyes. "Will you ever forgive me for that?" Her voice sounded exhausted.

"Luv, I may forgive ye for tempting me, marooning me, even killing me, which I have done so already, but I will never forgive ye for burning the rum. It's an unforgivable crime, darling." he said, a hint of humor in his voice. Only a hint.

"Will you just hurry up and open this bloody door? I'm thirsty and I'd like some rum."

He narrowed his eyes. "Fine. On one condition, though, luv. Repeat after me."

Oh, goodness. He is so infuriating! And-and… and by God, he has the most gorgeous eyes. "Alright." she whispered, distracted by her thoughts.

"I, Elizabeth Sw-Turner, hereby promise and/or swear not to burn, deface, or destroy Captain Sparrow's rum in any way, shape, or form." he recited seriously.

Her eyes glinted with amusement. "I, Elizabeth Sp-Turner, promise to not kill Captain Sparrow for daring to try and best the King of the Brethren Court. Now open the door, if you please, Captain." she said seductively.

"If I'd known that voting for ye would result in such dishonest abuse of power from ye, I'd have voted for the bloody Frenchman." he muttered, unlocking and opening the door, holding it open for her. "Lead the way, Your Majesty." he mocked.

Elizabeth walked inside and came to realize why Jack kept the cellar locked up. There were walls and walls of rum. If one of the crewmembers got in here, the entire ship would fall apart. Then everyone, and not just the captain, would be drunk all the time. Not even the Pearl could live through that, as strong as she was. She jumped and let out a small yelp when Jack shut the door and locked it, making her feel oddly insecure, especially when he looked at her with that all-knowing smirk and those unfathomable eyes that could make her do just about anything. As a matter of fact, just the thought of Jack being there with her could make her do anything.

Jack inspected the walls, appearing to be looking for something. He scanned the bottles and then looked at Elizabeth and she had the strangest idea that he was analyzing her. For what, she could only guess. As though finally sure of what he wanted, he grabbed a bottle that appeared to be unopened and sauntered his way back to Elizabeth who eyed him anxiously. He presented the bottle to her and she looked at it, noticing the strange white color of the liquid.

"What is this?" she asked.

"That, luv, is some of the finest rum in the Caribbean." he said confidently.

"This…" she started, disbelievingly. "This is rum." she said, uncertain.

"Aye, luv. That there is White Rum. Aren't ye the one who says rum is a vile drink? How can ye say that if you've never even seen White Rum before?"

"I… I didn't know there were different types of rum. How come you never drink it?" she asked accusingly.

"What? And have me crew find out I keep this down here? No, luv. This stuff is only for special occasions." he explained.

"So this is White Rum. What else is there, what's the difference?" she inquired, her curiosity getting the best of her.

"Well, there's White, Golden, and Dark Rum. White being the lightest and Dark being the strongest. The thing about White Rum, though, is the way they make it in the French Islands, where this bottle's from." he said, gesturing to the bottle she was holding. "Ye can mix it with other things, fruit and spices and such to make it a bit more tasteful, aye? This one's from French Polynesia. It's got White Rum and pineapple, as well as some other spices."

"Oh, so you don't think I can handle the Dark Rum?" she asked haughtily.

"That's not it, at all, dearie. This rum is aged specially and is very difficult to find, Dark Rum being the preferred drink of pirates. But this… this bottle's worthy of a Pirate King. It's worthy of someone like ye, Lizbeth." he reasoned.

She smiled. He had been considerate enough to find something that she might like.

"Go on, Lizzie. Try it out. Just might make ye like rum and take back those horrible things ye said about it before. Might even make ye regret your mistakes on a certain island?"

"Alright, I'll try it." she said, uncorking the bottle and taking a sip.

The taste surprised her greatly. It wasn't as strong as the rum Jack had given before and so she assumed that he liked the Dark Rum. This, however, was sweet and the hint of pineapple actually made it delicious. It went down her throat smoothly and tingled rather than burned. She took another, much larger drink this time and savored the taste. She had to admit that Jack was right. It actually made her like rum.

It invigorated Jack to watch her enjoy the rum so much. Had he known she would have liked it so much, he would have given it for her to try long ago. Thankfully, he had at least enough White Rum to last them (well, her, considering the rest of the crew preferred the stronger stuff) until Tortuga where he would be sure to get plenty extra just for her.

Before she knew it, she had downed half the bottle and Jack was still watching her, that infuriatingly beautiful smirk on his face. Embarrassed, she set the bottle down and smiled at him.

"It's… nice." she said as indifferently as possible. "Different, I suppose."

"Oh, come on, darling. Ye know ye loved it." he countered.

"Alright, alright. It was… very nice. I have to say I was wrong about rum and I'm sorry I ever burned it." she replied sheepishly.

He eyed her up and down and, after deciding that she genuinely meant it, gave her a slight nod. "It's alright, luv. I'm just glad you're enjoying yourself." he said.

"Do you mind…?" she held the bottle up, a request clear in her amber (should've given her Gold Rum now that I think about it) eyes.

"Course, luv. Drink as much as you'd like." Or more than you'd like, for that matter.

"Drink up me hearties, yo ho." she said before taking another swig.

"Yo ho, yo ho, a White Rum life's for you." he sang.

Although White Rum didn't taste as strong as regular Dark Rum, it still, more or less, had the same effects and as he watched her drink up the last half of the bottle, he knew he was in for an interesting night.

They say that drunks are the most honest people in the world. Jack and Elizabeth were no exception. Jack had his share of rum while Elizabeth, as well, found her taste for the once vile drink. The pair spent the rest of the day together sword-fighting (a miracle nobody got hurt), organizing Jack's cabin, swapping pirate songs, singing their song, and just having conversations. Yes, the conversations were a tad bit slurred but since they were both drunk, they somehow understood each other.

"An' so, me aunt… or was it me uncle… no matter, he or she told the man 'no more water. Más ron' and the waiter brought the rum!" and he laughed hysterically so, with nothing else to do, Elizabeth joined in the laughter.

"But… but what is 'más ron', Jack?"

"Well, me auntcle… or aunt or uncle's, me mum's half-sister from Spain, so it'd be 'more rum'." he slurred.

"But Jack? Is that in… in Spain? In… Spanish?"

"Spanish? My mother's Spanish… Aye?"

"You said that… that 'te amo' meant 'more rum' in Spain. Spanish!" she giggled.

"No, luv. 'Te amo' is 'I love'…" he trailed off.

"What? You love? Love… Rum! I love White Rum, which do you like, Jack?" she said, unaware of what she was saying. Being drunk had that effect on you.

"Dark Rum! But I like Lizzie! Oh, te amo, Lizzie. Más ron!"

"Yes, more rum!" she shouted.

And when Jack noticed Elizabeth slipping in and out of sleep, he carried her to his bed and tucked her in, wishing her goodnight. The truth was, he should have gotten some much-needed sleep as well but just couldn't bring himself not to steer his beloved Pearl who, lately, had gotten little if no attention from him. Since Elizabeth came aboard, she had the night shifts at the helm which was usually his job and, after seeing how tired it left her, he decided to relieve her of that duty giving him time with his special girl again.

Occasionally, he called it the Crystal Swann, or at least liked to think of it as such. To him, she would always be a Swann. A beautiful and free swan. And he thought of her as a crystal because she was priceless and perfect in every way. And she was strong, too. As strong as a crystal. Beautiful and strong. True enough, the ship was still the Black Pearl but one day, he would get her a ship and call it the Crystal Swann. He could hardly wait to see the look on her face. It would be magnificent, just like her. It could even be built after the Pearl! For her, he would do anything. Even make a replica of his most prized possession. And the Pearl was only his most prized possession because she was in his possession… yet. But, the moment she becomes his (if she becomes his), she would be his most prized possession and Pearl would be bumped down to second place. Girl over ship, aye?

Jack's eyes swept over the clear, moonlit night and he sighed, feeling the same peace he had when he first woke up. Peace in knowing that Lizzie was asleep in his bed and that she finally liked rum and that… that they seemed to be getting along better. It was comforting to know that they weren't constantly at each other's throats. Suddenly, as if meant to ruin the peace that he felt, a worn out ship came rising from the depths of the eerily calm seas and its captain looking to be in high spirits, something that worried Jack greatly. And all he could think about was the sweet, beautiful angel that was in his cabin sleeping calmly and he would make sure that her rest went undisturbed. But when he saw the look on Will's face, he became conscious of the annoying fact that it wouldn't be as easy as he thought.

The captain of the Flying Dutchman was anxiously awaiting the moment he would see his beautiful wife and they could discuss that blasted letter. He didn't want to believe that the words she wrote were true. He couldn't believe them. She was Elizabeth. She was the girl who promised to watch over him all those years ago. He knew for a fact that she didn't have it in her to write something like that and actually mean it.

Well, there's only one way to find out. I hope she's still there.

The ship approached the Black Pearl fairly quickly much to Jack's dissatisfaction.

Next to Will stood Bootstrap, the whelp's father, who looked concerned. He had read the letter from Elizabeth (actually, from Jack) and was quite worried about the girl's state of mind. They had always seemed so in love… It just didn't seem right. Something was going on.

Seeing father and son together like that made him think of his father, Teague, whom he resented to this day. For some inexplicable reason, Jack's thoughts went to his mother who, like Elizabeth's father, died cruelly by Beckett's hand. Actually, he recalled one day in particular.

Silvana Sparrow was a vixen in every way. Her dark hair and olive tan skin turned heads, but not as much as her elegant curves. She had a smile that was to die for and her touch was magic. At least, that's what little Jack thought of his mother. To him, she was the prettiest and strongest woman to have ever lived. She had led a struggled life to get where she was today, the wife of the Keeper of the Code, Teague Sparrow.

She was born into a poor family in the Peruvian mountainside and was raised a good Catholic in her small village. By the time she was fifteen, she had grown tired of village life and, despite knowing that it would break her family's heart, fled her homeland and went to the sea. It was easy for her to get around with her astounding looks and persuasive behavior. She could get any ship to take her anywhere in the world with a mere bat of her long, black eyelashes.

A couple of months after she left home, she came upon an intriguing man named Teague. He was the most handsome person she had ever met and he almost immediately became infatuated with the spirited young girl. Before long, they were lovers and she told him that she was expecting a child. She had thought he would dump her at the next port, as she came to learn he had done so with many other women he had gotten pregnant. Surprisingly, her fear was uncalled for and Teague did just the opposite. He truly loved Silvana and was not going to let her get away. If she was bearing his child, he would make things legitimate. By the end of the week, they were married and she became Mrs. Keeper of the Code. Teague had actually been excited about the child. He wanted a boy to carry on the family name and someday, take the position as Keeper from him. It had been in the Sparrow family for generations and he wanted to keep it that way. He would have Silvana's beauty and his cleverness. The lad would bring the world to a hault. His name would be known in all the seven seas. He'd be an infamous pirate but most of all, a good man, something he couldn't quite say for himself, having taken advantage of a girl so young. But Silvana was hardly innocent. She knew the ways of the world, and had been forced to do things one could only imagine to barter her way around. Silvana was a woman and at age sixteen, she gave birth to Jonathan Sparrow, Jack for short.

Despite her age, she adjusted to being a mother quite well. She loved her son more than life itself and would do just about anything to protect him. Jack, or Jackie as Teague liked to call him, showed his intelligence at an early age. He was a curious little thing, always getting his nose where it didn't belong but she admired the way he took everything in. His desire to learn was insatiable. Everything seemed to spark his interest. And he loved Silvana more than anything. She was his idol, his role model., his savior. They always spent the day together getting into all kinds of mischief. Having a child also brought out the child in Silvana and it allowed her the childhood she never really had.

One night, she was sitting with Jackie, who was only seven at the time, on the beach of Shipwreck Island, watching the Caribbean sunset. She never regretted leaving Peru. If she hadn't, she would have never met Teague and Jack wouldn't have been born. Silvana just couldn't imagine a life without her son. The world just would be the same without Jack Sparrow. In the silence that overtook the mother and child, a small thump was heard and they turned around to see a white dove that had fallen from the sky, apparently with an injured wing. Silvana had inherited a love for animals from her father and quickly ran to tend to the poor bird, Jack following in tow.

"The poor bird! Will he be ok, Mama?" asked Jack, worried.

She picked up the dove and bent down so she'd be eye level with Jack. "Si, Jackie. We just have to fix his wing, yes?" she explained softly in her Spanish accent.

Jack nodded his head and took a bandana from his pocket, handing it to his mother who accepted it with a smile, delicately tying the dove's wing. Happy with her work, she set the bird down and it spread its wings, unsuccessfully trying to gain flight. It was then that Silvana put her arm around Jack and told him the one thing that was, from that moment on, etched into his mind and his heart, always reminding him to stay strong just like her.

"You see this dove, my child?" she asked.

"Yes, Mama." he replied.

"Esta paloma blanca volará algún día y usted volará también, mi pequeño gorrión." she said softly, kissing his nose.

He smiled. "Si, Mama."

"Now, we should be getting back. Your father will worry." she announced, standing back up again.

"But what about the dove? Can we take it, too?" he looked at her with pleading eyes.

After a moment of consideration, she replied. "Alright. Are you going to nurse him back to health, Jackie?"

"Yes, Mama."

A few days later, Jack took the dove outside and let it go, watching in awe as the white bird soared through the sky.

"This white dove will fly someday and you will fly too, my little sparrow."

That was what she had told him and he believed her. It never occurred to him just how much he missed his mother. For a while, he blamed his father for her death, for not protecting her well enough but he knew deep down that he had only himself to blame. He remembered the hurt, betrayed look on her face when he said he was leaving to join the Royal Navy. She called him a fool and begged him not to go. He was seventeen, then. Three years later, he let the slaves go free and was branded a pirate. One month after that, Silvana Viera Sparrow was shot to death in Tortuga. She was only thirty-six years old.

Life just wasn't the same after she died. The last time they had spoken, she had told him how proud she was of him for doing the right thing but that was the last thing he heard from her. His father had been heartbroken. For a few years, at least. He really did love Silvana, but she was gone and he was a man, so he married Lorraine Thomas, an English countess who thought the idea of sailing with a pirate was exciting and left, on her own accord, her husband and two young children. This was partly the reason why Jack resented Teague so much. He should not just have moved on right away after Silvana's death. A woman as amazing as she deserved to be remembered. To be missed. And Jack missed her every day of his life.

In all of his musings, he had lost track of time and when he finally came out of his reverie, he saw Will Turner standing right in front of him.