*James's heart beat faster by the minute, cold sweat breaking out all over his body. He hoped the others didn't notice. He didn't like letting on when he was nervous, let alone scared.

The prisoners climbed the rope and scurried across to the ship being towed by the Flying Dutchman, Elizabeth and Annabelle waiting their turn. He couldn't bear looking into their eyes. Elizabeth's held a condemning glare, while Annabelle's reflected sympathy and fear.

Then they faded into complete darkness, and he could only hear voices.

"Come with us," a woman's voice gently implied, his heart stirring at the thought. Suddenly a woman's agonizing scream pierced the darkness...a scream laced with his name...*

James gasped as he sat up. He took several deep breaths in hopes of calming himself. That was the third time he had had that dream. That scream haunted him day and night, especially since there were no visuals to accompany it. He had no inclination of why that scream had occurred, or why he'd had the dream more than once.

He stood, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. Being stranded on an island was certainly not what he had in mind when he first embarked on his journey back to Port Royal, yet after leaving Will Turner and the Flying Dutchman behind, he had unfortunately boarded a ship that was attacked by pirates. The pirates saw no use for him, and the Captain had admitted he favored a slow, lonely death for their captors, and so here he was. He wasn't sure of how many days he had been there, but he was determined to keep an eye out for ships-if any hope remained.

He groaned at the aches in his body, then began his morning stroll to see what he could find for breakfast.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Annabelle lay on the shore for some time, trying to catch her breath. Swimming to the shore had proved exhausting, and the sun's heat had borne on her the entire time.

Eventually clouds settled in, and she slowly lifted herself from the sand and stood. She turned to see Captain Drake's ship was already long gone, along with Jack Sparrow. Overnight, her impulsive plan had deterred into a living nightmare. This was far from how she imagined things playing out. How would she survive now?

What she needed first was fresh water for a drink. Annabelle took the first few steps inland, then stopped, remembering Drake mention marooning another captive of theirs. She swallowed, readjusting her hair under her hat. She had no choice but to face him when the time came, however frightening it would be. She lifted her chin and stepped into the rich foliage in search of water.

It didn't take long for her to find. She had taken her time walking through the rainforest, keeping her ears open for the sound of brooks, waterfalls, or even indications of another person's presence. Soon enough she heard the sound of a small brook, which sped into a small river that ran through the other side of the island.

Overjoyed, she jogged to the edge, and scooped a little into her palm to test it. Not smelling or tasting anything foul with a small drop, she took a larger sip. It was the most refreshing water she ever drank. She smiled to herself and continued scooping and sipping to quench her thirst, forgetting about the other prisoner on the island for the moment.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

James had heard it. Not voices, but foreign compared to what he'd heard since being stranded. He slowly lurked through the foliage, though doing so quietly was nearly impossible. Hopefully the brook's gurgle would drown out any excessive noise he made. He could tell from the dimness of the rainforest that clouds had rolled in and blocked the sunlight, which could work in his favor in not being seen, though it could prove difficult for him to see this person as well as if there were more light.

He heard a sigh of relief, and that was enough for him. If he wasn't going crazy, there was another human being present on the island. He reached for his pistol, one that he was given when he was marooned. He only had one shot, which was typical, and he didn't wish to use it unless he absolutely had to. He didn't plan using it on this person either, but it would sufficiently intimidate them-or protect him from them.

He used the pistol to slowly sweep away some branches, and he froze at the sight before him. He narrowed his eyes and blinked several times to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. Only yards away was the profile of a woman kneeling down at the water's edge, drinking from her palms. Although her hair was tucked beneath a hat, and he couldn't see her face very well, one look at her frame gave it away. Her dark clothes were still damp, hugging nearly every curve of her body. He swallowed at the sight, pondering on how to approach her without scaring her.

Was she from a ship that could rescue him from this island? Why was she in any part of the island alone?

He carefully shifted his body to better conceal himself, but his boot caught on a plant that snapped beneath it. It was not overly loud, but enough to crack through the silence. James bit back a groan and held his breath, keeping himself hidden amongst the plants.

The woman was instantly on her feet, her flats scraping the earth. Her body remained still, but her eyes darted in several directions. "Who's there?"

Norrington wanted to step forward, but something about that voice stirred his heart and held him there. His eyes blinked a couple times as he strained to see her face. She sounded so much like-

"I know someone's there," she added shakily.

Norrington felt himself grow warm. *Annabelle?* It had to be. But how did she get here? What had happened to her? He tried to catch his breath and then steady it. He wanted to run to her, ensure that she was real, but thought the better of it, knowing for sure that would further frighten her. Instead, he carefully emerged from his hiding spot, a strange sensation overtaking him.

Annabelle gasped as she saw a tall figure holding a pistol creep from the foliage, and was struck with terror. She couldn't bring herself to look where his face or eyes would be, for she feared what she'd see lurking there. Her femininity was now known to this stranger, whom she could barely see in the shade due to the looming clouds. And this person was armed, whereas Captain Drake had marooned her without a pistol with a single shot, as was customary.

She felt foolish for having spoken so soon. She backed up a couple steps before cowering on the ground again, holding up her arms and turning away her face. "Please! Don't hurt me."

Norrington froze at the quiet plea, his heart breaking a bit at the sight. He suddenly felt the need to reach for her, to protect her, despite the fact that it was he she sought protection from. He wanted to address her by name, but he wanted to prevent any further fright as much as possible.

He glanced down at his hand, the pistol still in his grasp. He put it back in its holster at his side and revealed his palms before quietly stating, "I mean you no-"

Annabelle's breath was shaky. The man's soft whisper had calmed her a bit inside, which she found strange, but she still trembled.

Norrington cautiously stepped forward again as he spoke, prompting her to rise and take a large step back. Had it not been for the clouds and thick plants, she would have been able to see his face, but it was still too dark, so her gaze remained on the ground.

He had barely uttered his sentence, when, finding a burst of courage, she panicked and gasped after taking her step back, taking off as fast as her legs could carry her.

"-No, wait, please-" Norrington barely rose his voice as he reached for her, but she had already run too far to hear him or be grasped. Without hesitating another moment, he went after her.

Annabelle ran until she reached the shore, out of breath again. She gulped in air as she tried to calm her body, which shook and wobbled. *Why did I run? I can't go anywhere!* She collapsed to the white sand on her knees, her hat falling off in the process. She didn't bother to put it back on and hide her tresses, which were now flowing in the gentle breeze. She squinted a bit as her eyes adjusted to the hazy sunlight, which, although it was still behind clouds, was brighter since it was no longer shrouded by the rainforest's canopy.

Norrington slowed down before he emerged onto the shore, not wanting to frighten her any more than he already had. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of her, recalling another time he'd seen her hair loose in the breeze, but even now he still resisted the urge to touch her.

But there was something else he noticed. On this side of the shore, there was no sign of a ship, or the presence of anyone else-she was alone, and therefore twice as vulnerable and scared.

After a couple moments he stepped forward, his voice at its normal, husky hum. "Please, miss, I won't harm you..."

The sound of his voice caused Annabelle to gasp and turn his way, her eyes still focused on the ground. She'd heard those words before, and that voice...

Norrington held his breath, fearing he had now truly terrified her. He felt helpless staring at the young woman on her knees, her arms hugging herself, her body trembling. He desperately wanted to reach for her, to have her to look at him. The last thought brought on several fears-would she recognize him? Would she be happy to see him? Were his feelings for her, whatever they were, real after all that had-

He saw her eyes move, and his body became stark still.

Her breath caught when her eyes first fell on his boots, which she recognized. Slowly, her gaze drifted up his body until she saw his face, with the scruffy brown hair and soft, green eyes.

Her chest heaved up and down and she remained silent, her body suddenly numb. Norrington remained silent as well, patiently waiting for a glint of recognition in her eyes, but was instead confused by her shock and surprised demeanor. No, not surprise…disbelief.

In a dreamlike state, she rose to her feet on wobbly legs, her eyes never leaving his face. After several agonizing silent moments, she found her voice, though it was small. "James?"

James's chest heaved with relief. She recognized him. She flew to him and threw her arms around him, several gasps escaping her. Her touch sent a rush through him, and it intensified when he placed his hands on the back of her shoulders, quickly encircling her with his arms. He felt warm inside for a reason he could not explain, but how sweet it felt to finally touch her and hold her.

Annabelle caught herself almost immediately and pulled herself back. He was disappointed their embrace was so brief, despite the impropriety of the whole situation. She seemed to be struggling for words, so James waited. She surprised him again when, still in her dreamy daze, she placed her hands on his shoulders, almost as though she was reassuring herself that he was physically real. Her eyes, however, did not meet his. He understood-she was still in disbelief for some reason, and he couldn't imagine why, despite his own astonishment at the odds they were on the same island-

"You're alive," her voice cracked and still sounded breathy.

"Yes, Annabelle, I am," he softly murmured, still confused. Oh, how good it felt for her to hear his voice again.

Annabelle's breath then became labored, and her body was overcome with shock. Her eyes rolled back before she collapsed in James's arms.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

James dabbed the young woman's face again with his handkerchief. He had rushed her back to the waterfall after she'd fainted, hoping cold water would revive her. Tapping her face a couple times had not worked, and unfortunately he had no salts to trigger her senses.

He sat back and waited to see if she'd awaken before retrieving more water. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open as she sighed.

He leaned forward at her side a bit and gently placed a hand on her arm. "Miss Bennington?"

Annabelle looked at him for several moments before trying to sit up. He reached and helped her, urging her to take it slowly.

"Are you all right?" he asked her. Had she not seemed so shocked, he might have teased her by asking if fainting spells ran in her family as well.

The disbelief covered her face again as she stared at him. She still couldn't believe her eyes, even though her hand was braced on his arm when he'd helped her sit up. They both remained quiet sitting there, before she finally spoke. Her voice still cracked as though she were holding back sobs. "How did-wh-how did you get here?"

James looked at the ground before answering. "I was marooned here by a band of pirates led by-"

"Captain Drake," she interrupted.

"Yes," he answered, surprised by her guess before he realized. "Did he send you here, too?"

She nodded.

"Did he harm you?" Norrington asked, a protective air in his voice. She felt his grip on her arm slightly tighten.

"No, I posed as a boy and did not say a word."

Inside he sighed heavily with relief, but it didn't show outwardly, except for his nod in acknowledgement and his face relaxing a bit. For her sake he was glad her act had worked, though he wondered how much Drake had actually believed.

He realized he still gripped her arm, so he casually released it. They were silent again before Norrington continued. "I was onboard another ship to return to Port Royal. I was hoping that you and Miss Swann were safely back home, and I wanted to investigate your uncle's disappearance-especially after what you both had told me...unfortunately, the ship was attacked by Drake and his men. I was their prisoner for only a couple days before I was placed here."

"And you were not harmed?"

He shook his head.

A smile of relief tugged at the corners of her lips, but quickly faded into bewilderment. "How did you get onboard the other ship?"

"I was previously onboard the Flying Dutchman. I was released after the battle."

Annabelle's eyes grew wide, her muscles stiffening as she sat up straighter. "When you released us from the brig?"

James now looked bewildered. This was what he couldn't remember still. At least this somewhat confirmed that much of his dreams were true. "I was released after Davy Jones battled Jack Sparrow and the Royal Navy."

Her voice cracked again, her body feeling numb once more. "How did you survive?"

The sound of her voice made him want to reach out and touch her again, but he resisted. "Survive what, Miss Bennington? I was not part of that battle."

Tears formed at the back of her eyes. How was she going to ask him about something so painful? "What happened...after you released us from the brig?"

The dream flashed through his mind, yet he tried to conceal his fear. "I will admit I have had dreams of the incident, but I do not know how much of it is true." He was going to continue, but tears and quiet sobs had escaped Annabelle. "Annabelle, what is it?"

She sobbed for a bit, the frightening incident replaying in her mind. "I just cannot believe Davy Jones let you go."

Norrington blinked. "He didn't release me. Mr. Turner did-Captain Turner now."

Her eyes turned back to him. "Captain Turner?"

James's heart sank. What else did she not know? Were they even speaking of the same events? He replied slowly, "He is Captain of the Flying Dutchman now. Davy Jones is dead."

She exhaled deeply, her shifting glances telling him she was trying to grasp everything. He hoped she wouldn't faint from shock again. She sat there, stunned, before asking, "And what of Elizabeth? Please tell me she's all right."

He swallowed, for this bit of the news hurt him a bit to utter. "She and Captain Turner are married. She lives on another colonized island. He did not disclose the location to me."

A moment of silent passed, then, "He lied to me! How could I be so foolish?"

"Who?"

"Jack Sparrow! I allied with him to find Elizabeth so we could settle a pressing matter. He didn't tell me any of this!" Annabelle cried.

James was beyond surprise. He had not been proud when he had taken drastic measures of piracy, but he had never expected Annabelle to resort to it. Carefully, though with concern, he asked, "Why did you ally with him?"

She stood, as did he. "I had no other choice! He was imprisoned in Port Royal, and the only person who could help me. Lord Clayton came across my uncle's will, in which Elizabeth and I have to both be present at the signing of a document so we can claim our inheritance. I have to find her!"

James became alarmed once a will was mentioned. Though he didn't know who this Lord Clayton was, he assumed he took over for Beckett, at least from what Will had told him had become of Beckett. "Do you have it with you?"

She paused before carefully drawing it from her robes. It was now bloated, having been drenched in water.

He carefully unfolded it and read it. Sure enough, it stated what she had just said, but there was something wrong. He looked up at her. "You have seen this document?"

"Yes, I found it myself before I was ordered to turn it in," she still sounded defensive, yet an air of doubt crept in her tone.

"Were you able to read it before handing it over to this Lord Clayton?" Norrington urged, trying to stay calm.

"No, I had given it to Groves before the order was given. He was not able to read through the entire will." Annabelle had calmed a bit, though she wanted to know where James was going with this.

Barely hearing Groves's name mentioned, James's heart swelled in anger, though his voice held a hint of dread. "Where did you find it?"

"In a drawer...in Uncle Weatherby's study when I had to organize some of his things," she said quietly.

A strange pain overtook Norrington, wishing he wasn't the one to tell her. "This isn't your uncle's writing, nor is it the correct will."

Her eyes grew wide. *Correct?* "What are you talking about? I've seen his writing before, I would-"

"When your uncle had his will made, he gave it into my care. I was honored and bewildered at the time, but he insisted, for he said he trusted me." Norrington also believed Governor Swann's decision was influenced with his intention to marry Elizabeth at the time, but he didn't mention that bit. "When I felt it right, I hid it and revealed the spot to no one, not even to Groves or your uncle. Those were his wishes. This document resembles Beckett's writing-though a bit disguised-and I wonder if there is more to it than only this page. Who is this Lord Clayton?"

"He is in Beckett's position now that he is dead."

Norrington nodded. He thought so. "We have to hold hope that we will be rescued."

Annabelle gently took the document from him to put it back in her robes. As she did, her eyes caught sight of something, and a mischievous grin crept across her face. "I believe Jack may come through for us, after all."

"Jack Sparrow cares for no one but himself," James retorted.

Annabelle drew the remains of the navigational charts out of her robe to show him. "But he forgot I have this. He and Barbossa need it."

"What is it?"

"Another map, although I do not know what they want it for." She put it back in her robes, her anger at Jack resurfacing. "Nor do I care. The sooner I get rid of it and return to Port Royal to solve this matter and-" she hesitated before she said more, quickly turning her gaze from Norrington, not forgetting how their conversation had turned from one painful matter to another, "-the better."