(A/N: I know it's been a while since an update. School started this week, so I've been busy. Finally got the chance to type this up! Hope you like it! I know it doesn't exactly transition as well from the previous chapter as they usually do, but I couldn't really find a good transition…so this is all I got. Enjoy!)

In Davy Jones' Locker
When Elizabeth and the rest of the crew go to rescue Jack from the Locker, in Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End

Leaking sea water out of her boots with every step, Elizabeth Swann trudged up onto the white-sanded beach of Davy Jones' Locker. Everywhere she looked, looked the same. White, fine-grained sand, almost glaring in the bright sunshine, powdered over hills and dunes.

It could be considered beautiful, Elizabeth supposed, but somehow, it wasn't. There was an eerie feeling around the place, as though this was all a man could ever see here. Nothing changing, no other sign of life, just land and land and land. Just the thing to dampen the cheer of any sea-loving creature. And it was working well - it was making Elizabeth even more dispirited than she already was.

"This truly is a godforsaken place," Gibbs spoke, somewhere to Elizabeth's right, echoing her feelings exactly.

"I don't see Jack. I don't see anyone," Elizabeth observed, a hint of the hopelessness she felt seeping into her voice, making it quiver slightly. Everything she knew and loved was riding on this - that they find Jack Sparrow as soon as possible.

After all, it was partly her fault that Jack wasn't there - although she had only been doing what she had had to do. She had killed Jack, to save the rest of the crew. And she hadn't managed to feel like herself since. She knew for a fact that she hadn't smiled since the day Jack Sparrow died. She needed to bring Jack back - surely that would erase the crime of killing him in the first place.

And those were just her personal problems. The Brethren Court of the pirates had been called, and Jack was a member. He had to attend, and do something about Lord Cutler Beckett trying to gain control of the entire oceans. And knowing Jack, he would have the perfect solution.

"He's here," Barbossa grimly announced. "Davy Jones never once gave up that what he took."

"And does it matter?" Will asked, that same note of hopeless desperation in his voice. "We're trapped here by your doing, no different than Jack."

Elizabeth's ears pricked up at the last bit of his sentence. What could he possibly mean by that? Lately, Will always seemed to be saying Jack's name with a sort of loathing contempt in his voice, something that hadn't been there before. They hadn't gotten along as well as they could have, but Will used to speak of him in a wry, humorous tone, making fun of him, almost.

Will had changed a lot the past few days. He never seemed to talk to Elizabeth anymore, just as she needed his support the most. There was almost always an angry, bitter edge to his voice. Something had changed between them, but Elizabeth was not sure exactly what.

Suddenly, Elizabeth noticed a whole herd of white crabs scuttling over the beach, and a strange sense of relief came over her. They weren't the only living creatures on this island. They were not alone. There was still a chance. Jack could still be here.

"Witty Jack is closer than you think," Tia Dalma, suddenly spoke, breaking through the silent tension in the air, a curious smile curling up the corners of her mouth. Elizabeth stared at her for a brief second, wondering how she knew, but then, suddenly, she saw, over Tia Dalma's shoulder, the top of a mast...a mast with black sails attached.

The whole crew turned to look, as graciously, majestically, the Black Pearl rose over the dunes, exactly as she did in the waves, and sailed through the bleached-white sand. And Elizabeth felt hope - unreasonable, irrational, unbelievable hope - surge through her, as, squinting, she spotted a familiar figure of a pirate standing, legs apart in a familiar wide stance, by the top of the mast.

Hope was quickly followed by disbelief. How could the Pearl be sailing on land? And how was it in such good condition? And Jack - was Jack really there? Perhaps it was just a mad delusion?

"Impossible," Tai Huang breathed, somewhere behind Elizabeth, and she couldn't help but agree. But then, it was Captain Jack Sparrow - he was notorious for his ability to do the impossible and make it look easy.

"Boat," Ragetti pointed, dumbstruck, as the Pearl sailed back into its rightful place in the waters of the ocean.

"Slap me thrice and hand me to me momma!" Gibbs whispered excitedly, all the grimness gone from his voice. "It's Jack!"

At those words, at that confirmation that Jack really was aboard that ship, Elizabeth's spirits soared, and a huge smile broke out on her face. Jack was here - finally, they had found Jack. Or he had found them. Either way, they were all here. Quickly, she began to follow Gibbs, but then stopped short when she remembered why they were all here. She had killed Jack. He wouldn't want to see her again. Her face fell, and her brief good mood was gone.

Glancing hurriedly and slightly resentfully at Will, she remembered how bitter Will seemed to be at Jack, and reasoned that it wouldn't help their relationship if she ran up to him and hugged him, as she wanted to. Will looked back at her, drawn by the feel of her gaze, and she quickly looked away.

…

Jack strode out of the boat, and onto the shore of the beach. This was a very interesting dream he was having. First, the crabs helping him sail the Pearl, now his former crewmates greeting him on this strange abandoned shore. Well, it was all very well, except for the fact that his crew had been extremely disobedient lately, and quite frankly, he was tired of such bumbling block-handed crew members.

"Jack!" Mr. Gibbs approached him with a great look of delight on his face.

"Mr. Gibbs!" Jack replied in kind. As he had thought. Mr. Gibbs was here too. Well, he was his first mate, shouldn't he have done something about such obvious incompetence?

"Aye, Cap'n!" Mr. Gibbs replied, quite joyfully, as the men began to form a line down the beach, out of habit.

"I thought so," Jack grimly announced. "I expect you're able to account for your actions, then?"

Looking quite confused, Mr. Gibbs' only answer was, "Sir?"

"There's been a perpetual and virulent lack of discipline aboard my vessel - why? Why is that, sir?" Jack roared out the last words, tired of all the strange things that were occurring lately. Mr. Gibbs should have seen to it that the tack line was hauled properly, that the work was done correctly, that his crew members did not go around impersonating chickens or wooing goats!

"Sir, you're - ," Mr. Gibbs hesitated, then continued, in a slightly lower voice, as though confessing some guilty secret. "You're in Davy Jones' Locker, Cap'n."

Oh. Davy Jones' Locker. Strange place to dream about, in Jack's opinion, but oh, well. Strange place, period, in Jack's opinion. "I know that," Jack quickly replied. "I know where I am." And Jack did. He was in Davy Jones' Locker. He knew that. "Don't think I don't!" he ordered Gibbs defensively.

"Jack Sparrow," a cold, unpleasantly familiar voice drawled out.

Turning towards the speaker, Jack saw his other first mate. His first first mate, so to speak. "Ah, Hector!" Jack recognized with a laugh. "Been too long! - hasn't it?" he asked, suddenly unsure. He couldn't really remember much about the last time they had met.

"Aye," Barbossa nodded. "Isla de Muerta, remember?" Jack clearly did not, but pretended he did. "You shot me," Barbossa reminded him.

Staring at Barbossa and wondering if he was joking, Jack easily replied, "No, I didn't!" He would remember something like that. And after all, if Barbossa was shot, he couldn't very well be alive and kicking now, could he?

Looking past Barbossa's shoulder, Jack saw another familiar face - one that he normally didn't see in the sunshine of a beach. "Tia Dalma - out and about, eh?" Well, this absolutely proved that this had to be a dream - Tia Dalma had never left her home before. "You add an agreeable sense of macabre to any delirium," Jack complimented her.

She smiled back hesitantly, looking faintly puzzled. And another familiar voice rang out. "He thinks we're a hallucination," Will Turner realized.

Ah. Will Turner. Something at the back of Jack's mind began nagging him. Something to do with Will and the chest and the girl. "William, tell me something," Jack asked. "Have you come because you need my help to save a certain distressing damsel - " Jack quickly corrected himself, knowing Will might not approve of this nickname. " - or rather, damsel in distress?" Will didn't reply. "Either one," Jack conceded.

Cocking his head to the side, the whelp answered clearly, "No."

Triumphantly, Jack reasoned. "Well, then, you wouldn't be here, would you?" The whelp only came to him when he needed help to get his own girl, after all. "So you can't be here! Q. E. D. - you're not really here!" Jack finished excitedly, gesturing wildly to prove his point.

Elizabeth had heard many crazy things in her life, but this seemed to be the craziest. Jack thought he was dreaming. How strange. But besides that, he still looked the same - spoke and acted the same too. And no matter if he was horrified to see her, she was glad to see him. And this last thought was the one that suddenly prompted her voice to say his name - hesitantly, yes, but still call him.

…

Jack heard another familiar voice call his name – a voice that seemed to be linked to rum. Something about rum. Looking up quickly, Jack saw Elizabeth Swann staring back at him concernedly. She stepped closer to Jack, her eyes never leaving his. "This is real. We're here," she explained.

A rush of memories assaulted Jack's brain. Rum burning, that was it. And a compass, and curiosity, and finally - he remembered. The kiss. That one, fleeting kiss. Possibly the best - and last - kiss of Jack's life. He lurched back a step, as he realized all that was happening, and he quickly ran back to Gibbs.

"The Locker, you say?" Jack quickly asked.

"Aye," Gibbs confirmed, and Jack suddenly felt overwhelmed as all that had happened. So this was the Locker. Davy Jones' eternal punishment. He hadn't escaped after all. He was in Davy Jones' Locker.

"We've come to rescue you," Elizabeth explained from behind Jack, wondering vaguely whether he would tell the whole crew how exactly he had ended up in the Locker. Probably not. Jack had a huge ego - he wouldn't want people knowing how he had been tricked.

"Have you now?" Jack asked sarcastically. She was the one who had sent him to the Locker, why undo the good deed? "Very kind of you. But it would seem that as I possess a ship and you don't, you're the ones in need of rescuing. And I'm not sure as I'm in the mood," he finished, only half joking.

No. The Locker hadn't changed Jack one bit, and Elizabeth wasn't sure whether she was exasperated by that, or happy. Perhaps a combination of both. Less than five minutes, and he was already talking in his old way.

"I see my ship," Barbossa broke in, a sly ring in his voice. "Right there," he elaborated, and pointed to the Pearl.

Jack immediately knew what he meant, but he looked over and squinted at the ship as well. "Can't spot it," he finally said, knowing exactly how the remark would get under Barbossa's skin. "Must be a tiny little thing, hiding somewhere behind the Pearl."

"Jack!" The whelp came up, looking strangely grim. Jack was slightly surprised. He had Elizabeth, what else could he want from Jack now? "Cutler Beckett has the heart of Davy Jones. He controls the Flying Dutchman," Will informed him.

"He's taking over the seas!" Elizabeth quickly added, squeezing in between Will and Jack. She had been so caught up in finding Jack again, she had quite forgotten about the reason why they were all here.

"The song has already been sung," Tia Dalma continued, in her sing-song voice. "The Brethren Court is called!"

Just how many days had Jack been on this godforsaken spit of land? "Leave you people alone for just a minute, and look what happens - everything's gone to pot!" Jack exclaimed disgustedly. If the world was so much worse without Jack Sparrow, why had they - or rather, she - taken him out of it? She should have thought of all this before killing him off.

"Aye, Jack, the world needs you back something fierce," Mr. Gibbs told Jack, softening him up a little. Always faithful, ol' Gibbs. Unlike some other people he could mention.

"And you need a crew," Will Turner added.

Instantly, Jack froze at the words. He was not going back to the world just to solve their problems for them. He wasn't their guinea pig, to do them favors whenever they asked for. If there was one thing Jack hated, it was being taken for granted. Turning around, he questioned them. "Why should I sail with any of you? Four of you have tried to kill me in the past; one of you succeeded," Jack pointed out, waving a careless hand in Elizabeth's direction.

Will instantly turned to Elizabeth with a look of confusion, and the guilt written on her face told him everything. She opened her mouth to protest, but she couldn't think of anything to say that would explain it right. She seethed inwardly, unreasonably furious at Jack - was it so hard to keep a secret?

Jack watched this exchange with strange amusement. "Oh," he realized, a smug smile crossing his face. "She's not told you?" No wonder she was glaring daggers at him now. If looks could kill, he would be dead twice over. But for some strange reason, he felt strangely pleased that things weren't as wonderful between the whelp and the girl as they used to be. He would have thought that with himself absent, Elizabeth and her precious Will would have married and begun making families a long time ago. "You'll have loads to talk about while you're here."

Noticing Tia Dalma standing in the line, Jack strode over to her. "As for you - "

She squirmed for a second, then gathered her bearings and smiled provocatively at Jack. "Now...don't tell me you didn't enjoy it...at the time," she pointed out.

Jack allowed himself a brief grin of retrospect - one that somehow bothered Elizabeth quite a bit, although she tried to hide her annoyance. "Fair enough, all right, you're in," he relented.

He walked past the other crewmembers, briefly evaluating them. "Don't need you, you scare me," he airily dismissed Ragetti. "Gibbs, you can come. Monty...," Jack saw the one-eyed man's best friend - what's-his-name Pintel - and grimaced in response. "Cotton - ," he nodded. "Cotton's parrot - I'm a little iffy - but...at least I'll have someone to talk to," he decided.

Turning, Jack came face-to-face with a man he was sure he had never met before. "Who are you?" he asked, surprised. Had he forgotten one of his crewmates?

"Tai Huang," the man replied cockily. "These are my men," he indicated the group behind him with a jerk of his chin.

Jack considered the matter. He wasn't sure he liked Tai Huang much, but he had a crew - and if they were ever to get off the island, they needed a crew. "Where do your allegiances lie?"

"With the highest bidder," Tai Huang informed him, without a trace of shame.

"I have a ship," Jack pointed out hopefully.

"That makes you the highest bidder," Tai Huang replied.

Jack smiled, satisfied. He didn't much like men like this Tai Huang, but he definitely understood them. "Good man," he remarked. Turning around, he commanded his crew to weigh anchor, all hands, and prepare to set sail.

He quickly snapped open his compass, and was met with the frenzied needle spinning itself almost off the compass. Jack's grin slid right off his face. Why did his compass keep betraying him? First, apparently, he did not know what he wanted. And now, it didn't work in Davy Jones' Locker! Ah, the injustice of the world - and afterworld. Quickly, he snapped the compass shut.

"Jack," Barbossa drawled out his name unpleasantly. "Which way you going, Jack?" he asked, an unpleasant smile creeping across his face, as he tapped the charts he held in his hand.

So Jack had to sail with them, apparently. No choice. All right, Jack decided. He'd sail with them. He just had to remember to keep clear of the girl.

(A/N: The ending's not as polished as I'd like it to be, but I couldn't think of any other way to end it, especially since the end bit of this scene wasn't as Sparrabethy as I had first thought it would be. But this scene is important, no matter what! Anyway, I hoped you liked it! I'm not sure what the next scene should be, though - I'll have to think on that. Review, please!)