Author's Notes: Okay... I'm not going to lie to you, this chapter is a bit... stranger than the other chapters. Elizabeth is grieving, and therefore this is just a very emotional chapter. I hope you don't find some of the things I did with it a bit too off-the-wall, but I kind of like how everything turned out.

Thanks for the reviews, everyone--the response this story is getting is phenomenal!

Here it is--ENJOY!


One Day at a Time

By: MJ


"Hi, Will, it's me again…"

The whispered words fell upon deaf ears as Elizabeth pulled the chest out of her secret hiding spot under a loose floorboard under her bed. She placed the steel chest on her bed, her dainty fingers delicately fingering the details along the handle.

"I know it's only been a day, but… I need to talk."

She stood up slowly, the faint beating of his heart urging her to continue. She walked towards the window that showed the view of the horizon and gazed outside. She could see Johnny's faint silhouette as he played outside with Ana's daughter Mary and her four-year-old son, David. She sighed happily, leaning against the window frame as a warm summer breeze blew against her face.

"It's been seven years, Will, to the day—have you noticed?"

Her voice was choking up, tears were welling in her eyes; the sun was setting.

"I have… we both have… Johnny's a bit more brave than I am… sometimes I wonder what will happen when you two meet…

"Will you like each other?"

The last words were whispered, and they made her heart nearly stop beating. She placed a hand to her chest and felt it ache from inside. She looked back at the chest.

"I have no doubts that you will love him, but…"

She looked back out to her son.

"…He seems so fickle, lately, as if he wants his independence more than anything else… He's stopped asking questions about you," she said softly, her hands falling to grip the windowsill.

"Has he stopped caring?"

She looked back at the chest, listening to the steady heartbeat for a moment before turning back to the window.

"Of course not," she said quickly, sniffing. She rubbed her nose and sighed. "That was a silly thing to say, Will… Jesus."

She sat down, her back to the wall and her eyes on her feet.

"Am I crazy?" She wondered aloud. "Am I so out of my mind that I need to talk to you as if you're here—as if you're actually listening?!"

"Damn Calypso—Damn Davy Jones—Damn Jack Sparrow in the first place!" She screamed her hands clenching into fists. "If it wasn't for him, none of this would have happened—if it wasn't for him, everything would be all right with the world! My-my father would be alive, and… you…." She looked up at the chest. "You… would still be Mr. Brown's apprentice… and I'd be married to Norrington… even though I never loved him… he'd still be alive, too… We'd still be separated with or without Jack Sparrow." She said quietly, looking down at her hands.

"In a sense… I feel like both killing Jack and hugging him…"

She laughed slightly, her head leaning back so she could stare at the ceiling.

"I suppose that's true irony, then, isn't it?"

She stood up and looked out the window again; the sun was almost gone, the night was slowly creeping upon them.

"God, Will…" she muttered, her hands flying to the key around her neck. She tugged on it, slightly, as if to insure it was still there. "Normally, I can get by without you… I just… pretend you're out at sea, or tell myself that you will be back tomorrow… Except…

"Except tomorrow never comes… does it? Or… or at least it won't for another three years," she said quietly. "Three more years, love, three more long, tiring years. Only two more days like these, though…"

She looked back at the chest with a smile.

"I must apologize," she said, moving towards her bed again, her voice taking on an almost whimsical tone. "I always seem to get like this whenever this particular day comes."

She laughed, a fresh memory coming to her.

"When I was on the Pearl for those two years—Jack had to suffer with me like this for two days… I remember he thought I was insane—even asked me if I wanted him to kill a crew member just so I could see you…" She laughed even harder, her fingers tracing along the chest again. "I told him he was a bloody idiot to think I'd be so stupid; all of his crew members are immortal… I even think he attempted to make the Black Pearl immortal… There's some far-fetched tale out there that he used the rest of his water to completely bathe the Pearl in it…"

She snorted.

"Jack's daft, but not that stupid."

She smiled, looking towards the window again.

"Another bloody sunset," she said quietly. "Or sunrise in your case. I suppose this means that you've already suffered through this day alone… or perhaps it's just now starting for you? I never really understood the parallels of your world and mine."

She looked back at the chest as her heart tightened once more.

"I've only really understood that we are simply worlds apart right now."

She groped the key around her neck again, before she finally took off the necklace. She traced the outline of the key for just another moment before she put it in the lock and turned it. She moved away as it opened, and tears began to well in her eyes as she saw his heart.

Unlike Jones' heart, which was almost entirely flawless, Will's heart had still suffered the stab that Jones had caused, and thus there was a large black spot in the middle of his heart. She picked it up delicately, as if it was her own child, and held it's beating form in her hands.

A finger went out and touched the black spot, and she sighed.

"I wonder if you can feel this," she said, stopping her movements for a moment. The heartbeat remained constant; simply the same pitter-patter it had been the moment before. "I wonder if you can tell when I'm holding your heart in my hands… I think I can feel it when I know you're holding mine," she said quietly, her hand moving to her breast. Their heartbeats were similar—almost simultaneous, at that. "I can still feel your love around me… can you feel mine?"

It was quiet for a moment, and Elizabeth was simply trapped in the lullaby that was Will's heartbeat.

"Mama?"

She jumped off the bed at the sound of his voice, nearly dropping Will's heart in the process. Before she turned to regard the boy, she waited a moment to see if she had done any damage.

His heartbeat was still the same.

She delicately placed it in the chest and shut it quickly. As she was about to put it back under the bed, and simply tell him that it was a dream, she stopped. She looked up from her, and across the bed from her was Johnny. His eyes were staring into hers, confused, before he spoke again.

"Mama… what are you doing?"

"Nothing," Elizabeth attempted to lie, but Johnny caught her.

"Mama… what's that? … Is that… the Dead Man's Chest?" He placed a hand on the steel box. Elizabeth's heart froze. "Is… Papa's heart in here?"

There was no use lying to him. "Yes."

He was quiet for a while, looking intently at the chest. She was about to shoo him out of the room and put him to bed with simply another story when he spoke again, interrupting her thoughts.

"Can… can I hold it?"

She looked him in the eye, and, upon seeing those eyes, she melted. He still had his father's eyes, and those eyes could make her go weak enough that she would concede and let the boy do mostly anything he pleased. She nodded, her hands going to the necklace that was once more around her neck. Almost painfully slow, she placed the key into the lock and turned.

As the chest opened, she kept her eyes on him. He seemed eager, excited, and anxious at the same time. She watched him lean forward ever so slightly to catch a glimpse of the heart before he finally turned and met her eye again. With a nod, she leaned forward and gently picked the heart up again. It's steady beating filled the room, as it seemed almost magnified ten times more than normal. She beckoned for Johnny to sit on the bed, and she motioned to him that the way she was holding it was exactly how he was to.

Her eyes never leaving his, she placed the heart in his hands and waited.

Suddenly, the heartbeat quickened, and Johnny looked at Elizabeth, scared. She looked at him, just as worried, before it calmed.

"Don' worreh."

Elizabeth turned and took in a sharp breath as her eyes fell to Calypso, but she was in the form of her former self, Tia Dalma.

"Calypso," she turned to see Johnny staring at the witch with wide eyes. She smirked before turning back to the sea goddess.

"Why should we not worry?" Elizabeth asked quietly. Calypso smiled.

"Will be fine," she said, stepping through the wall to walk into Elizabeth's room. "He just felt yer son's li'l hands 'oldin' 'is 'eart," she motioned to Johnny. "He do not know of de chile, though," she said softly, moving closer and closer to Elizabeth's son. Elizabeth watched her carefully. Finally, Calypso was standing in front of Johnny. She held out two of her dark, delicate hands. Johnny looked at his mother who was still staring at Calypso, before he placed the heart in the goddess's hands.

"Would ye like t' see 'im?" She asked as she placed the heart in the chest fondly. Elizabeth's eyes furrowed.

"What?"

"Would ye like t' see him who love ye, Mrs. Turner?" Although she could tell Calypso was being absolutely serious, the joking manner in which she used Elizabeth's formal name left an unsettling feeling in her stomach.

"Of course," Elizabeth said, moving to stand beside Johnny. She rested her hands on his shoulders.

"I get to see father?" He asked breathlessly.

"No, not ye, jus' yer mother," Calypso said, looking hard at the young boy. "Fer, ye see, Will is not supposed t' know anyt'ing abou' 'is love." She moved towards the window, her dark eyes looking out into the darkness of the June night. "An' ye are not supposed t' know anyt'ing o' 'im," she turned back to Elizabeth. "But, when Davy Jones an' I were separated," she fingered the locket that still hung around her neck, "I did not 'ave a son t' care for… Therefore," she said, looking back out to sea briefly before turning back to Elizabeth, "your task be much greater den mine."

"What are you saying?" Elizabeth asked quietly, her eyes looking intently at Calypso's. Her hands tightened their grip on Johnny's shoulders.

"Ye can see 'im fer one 'our," she said with a smile, her blackened teeth glimmering slightly in the faint candlelight. "One 'our, but dere by some guidelines ye mus' follow, or else," she grinned, spreading her arms. "Ye face me wrath."

"What are these guidelines?" Elizabeth said quickly, a smile gracing her face.

"Ye cannot mention yer son," Calypso said, looking very strict when she said this. "Fer if 'e know abou' 'im, 'is task be much easier fer th' next t'ree years, aye?"

"Yes."

"Ye must not tell 'im ye are real… 'E must t'ink ye are simply a dream, aye?" She said, and Elizabeth nodded. "Fer if 'e knew ye t'be real, 'e may tell ye some t'ings tha' would make yer task easier as well…"

"What is the point of this then?" Elizabeth whispered, not understanding. "If I can't tell him anything, and he can't tell me anything, what are we supposed to talk of?"

"I dun' believe I tol' ye tha' ye coul' only talk, did I know?" Calypso said with a cheeky grin and a wink. There was an awkward silence before Johnny's faint sniffing broke through. Elizabeth bent down in front of her son and she wiped the tears off of his face.

"Why… can't I meet Papa?" He asked quietly. "Does he not want to see me?"

"Of course he wants to see you!" Elizabeth said, holding her son to her. "But… we must do as Calypso says, or else you may never see your father."

"Why, Mama? Can't… can't I come an'-an' we tell Papa that… that I'm Unca Jack's son?" He said, pulling away and sniffing again. "I want to meet my Papa!"

"Ye can't!" Calypso roared, moving towards the pair again. She pulled Johnny away from Elizabeth, who stood and gripped her sword warily. She held onto his shoulders and looked him right in the eye. "If ye wan' t'see yer father in t'ree years, ye mus' simply let yer mother go… undahstand?" Johnny nodded, but glared at her.

"Fine," he said, jerking away from her and running out of the room. Elizabeth was about to follow him, but Calypso put out a hand and stopped her.

"Ye wan' t'see yer lovah?" She asked, and Elizabeth was stuck between a rock and a hard place. She looked at Calypso before looking out the door to where Johnny had run out. Finally she looked back at Calypso with a grim look on her face.

"If Johnny must wait… so shall I. I won't see him. I shall wait."

"Fair enough," Calypso grinned. "T'ree years, den. G'bye, Miss Swann."

"Mrs. Turner," Elizabeth spat before she left the sea goddess alone in her room.


"Calypso," Will said with a smile as he watched the sea goddess in the form of Tia Dalma walking fast across the deck of the Flying Dutchman. "What have I done to deserve your wonderful presence aboard my ship?"

"I bring ye bad news, William Turner," she said fiercely, moving up to stand beside him by the helm.

"What kind of bad news?" Will asked uneasily. Bootstrap Bill was standing against the rail to his right; they had just watched the sunrise, it was the day after the reunion of his death. "Is it Elizabeth?" He asked, motioning for Bill to take the wheel at Tia's nod. They moved to the railing, and Will looked down to the sea below him. "What… about her?"

"I offered her th' chance t' see ye," Calypso said sadly. "She turned it down."

"What?" Will wheeled around to look at her. "Why?"

"She moved on," Calypso said faintly.

"She has not—she would not!" Will yelled, backing away from the goddess angrily. "She-she promised."

"I won't see him."

Elizabeth's firm no rang throughout the ship as Will broke down. He collapsed to his knees, staring at Calypso warily.

"Why—why would she say that?"

"I never loved him…"

Her voice was barely above a whisper; Will could hear the tears in her eyes. He looked away; he could feel the eyes of his crew burning holes into his flesh. Their pity of him, it was overwhelming. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep the tears from falling. He heard her footsteps, but when she moved to place a hand on his shoulder, he jerked it away with a glare.

"Don't touch me," he spat, moving towards his cabin.

"She dun' love ye, William Turner—but I can…" He turned to stare at her; she was shifting shapes again. And… there she was—Calypso was the spitting image of Elizabeth except…

Her eyes. Instead of Elizabeth's gorgeous cinnamon colored eyes, so full of life and love, they were replaced with blue eyes. They were as blue as the ocean, but weren't as full of life. Instead, they were dull and boring, as if Calypso was about to fall asleep.

"I can be 'o ye wan' me t'be fer ye, William Turner," she purred. Will shook his head, moving towards his cabin. "She cannot love ye, but I—I can."

"I don't want you," Will shook his head, his back hit the door to his cabin. He gripped his sword. He knew if he went in, she would simply follow him. If he stayed out here, he had more of a chance to get away from her completely. She kept stalking up towards him, a seductive smile on her face.

"Ev'rybody wan's me," she purred, pushing her body against Will's. She looked up into his eyes, and winked. He almost fell for it, he almost gave in; she looked so much like Elizabeth.

Except those eyes.

"Let me be," he said, pushing her slightly. Calypso shook her head. She walked back towards him, and pushed him against the wall. She stood up on her tiptoes with a smug smile on her now-pale features. She stuck out her bottom lip before she leaned in. Will watched with wide eyes as she inched her face closer and closer to his. Instead of kissing him, however, which was what he expected, she leaned in and whispered into his ear.

"T'ree years be a long way t' go," her breath tickled his ears as she spoke. "Le' me make it easier fer ye," she said. He shook his head and pushed her away again.

"You can't replace her—no one will ever replace her." He said firmly. He drew his sword and pointed it at her. "Let me be."

"Fine… enjoy yer loneliness, den, William Turner," she said haughtily, shifting shapes again. She turned back to Tia Dalma and gripped the locket around her neck. "Jones be a perfect example o' wha' loneliness can do to a man."

"I am stronger than Jones."

"Ye be just as weak," she said sweetly, moving towards the bow of the ship. "Soon, William Turner, ye will realize how much I could do fer ye."

With that, she was gone.

Bill motioned for another man to take the helm as he walked towards his son, who had walked into his cabin and shut the door. He disregarding knocking and just merely walked inside. "William?" He called, upon not seeing him. He heard a noise to his left, and he saw that Will was breaking into a liquor cabinet beside his bed. In the seven years he had been Captain, not once had William so much as drank an honest glass of rum. Not even on the reunion of his death and separation from Elizabeth did he drink.

"Sit," Will motioned for his father to sit at a table in the middle of the room. Bill sat, his eyes leaving his son's turned back to look at the organ at the back of the room, now covered by a few sheets of mismatched fabrics. His concentration was broken when Will sat across from him, slamming down a bottle of rum and two mugs. "She doesn't love me anymore… she says she's never loved me."

"Yer wrong," Bill croaked, watching Will pour the hearty alcohol into the two mugs. His motions stopped for a moment as the young man turned to regard his father.

"You heard it."

"Ye don't know if she was saying tha' abou' ye—ye don' know the conversation they were havin' when she said those things," Bill reasoned with his frantic son, accepting the mug of rum as he painfully watched his son down his in a single gulp. "Fer all ye knew, she could've been talking about Jack bloody Sparrow."

"Maybe that's who she's always been in love with."

"She married you," Bill reminded, glaring at his son. He stole the rum bottle away and wagged a finger in Will's face. "She professed her love to you in the middle of the most influential battle of all time." Will snorted, waving away his father's reasons. "She spent that day on the beach with you."

"Then why did she say she never loved me?"

"She said 'him'," Bill reminded, taking another sip of his rum. "There be a lot more 'him's in this world than simply ye." Will sighed.

"I suppose so."

"I'll bet you anything that in three years time, you will return to see her waiting on that bluff for you and only you," Bill reaffirmed, watching his son carefully. Suddenly, Will stopped, his hand gripping his chest as he felt something move within. His head jerked up as soft-spoken words flew through the windows, the wind carrying them around him as his ears filled with her voice.

Can you feel this, Will? Can you feel me holding your heart in my hands? I love you, Will—I've always loved you. I can feel your love around me… can you feel mine around you?

Forgive me for not seeing you today, my love, but… when given the choice, I figured that perhaps it would be best to wait. In time you will understand why I had to choose what I did, but just know that I love you so very much.

I'll wait for you, Will… I've been waiting. Just…

Come home.


Okay--time for some explaining.

At the end, the words in italics--Elizabeth is talking to the heart again. Will did not hear her the first time, nor any other time except that last time. The only reason he can hear her is because Elizabeth did not get the chance to see him, and Calypso rewarded them both for their love for each other--Will resisting Calypso's temptation, and Elizabeth choosing her son over seeing Will for simply an hour.

It's confusing, but I didn't feel like taking away from the story with loads of explanations. Besides--I like my chapters short. :)


Next chapter: A special visitor checks up on Elizabeth--three guesses on who it is.

Winner gets... I don't know, but just see if you can guess!

Next update shall be relatively quick... I'm so eager to write the last chapter that I'm just going to try and speed through the next two chapters (yay!)

Thanks for reading--let me know what you think in a review!