THE PRESENT

They didn't realize they were the only ones left in the tavern until the candle blew out, waking them from memories that felt like pulsing dreams. Jack was quiet for longer than Rita had ever witnessed, covering his contemplation by attempting yet again to drink from his pint that had already been drained hours ago.

"Oi," he turned to the bar, shattering the silence in his conventionally uncivil way. "Can we get another round here?"

The barkeeper was nowhere to be seen. Rita suspected he'd retired to his room without them noticing, and promptly felt a wave of gratitude for not having been kicked out. She was dreading returning home.

"Lousy service here, eh?" Jack muttered awkwardly. He stood up, the sound of his wooden chair scraping the floor bringing Rita back to her senses. She looked out the dirty window behind her.

"It's nearly dawn," she noted.

"Just enough time for a final drink." Jack was already behind the counter, rummaging through bottles until he found what he wanted. He returned to the table with a murky mead and tipped its contents evenly into each of their cups.

Rita picked hers up but did not sip, just watched the liquid slosh around inside.

"What it's time for," she said. "Is you to tell me what you really want. Have you come seeking my permission to return to Circe's workshop? Loot the place for all it's worth?" She knew he had not journeyed all that way just to tell her about Hector and Carina.

"Permission? 'Course not. I came to take you with me."

Jack's crooked smile looked forced and out of place on his weathered face. Rita knew at once he was trying to hide desperation.

"The days of toiling with legends and magic are behind me," she said stiffly. "I'm afraid you're on your own with that."

"Rita, what's life without adventure?" Jack urged, leaning forward.

"Maybe, finally, a life of peace," Rita retorted. "We're not that young anymore, Jack. At a certain point, you have to know when to quit."

"Not me," he said softly, sounding like a wounded child.

Rita swallowed hard. The image of Margaret standing with the potion bottle in her hand, a look of terror strewn across her beautiful face, replayed over and over again in her mind.

"It's not what she would've wanted."

"What would she have wanted, then?"

She had asked herself the same thing so many times over the years that the words fell flat when heard aloud. She became silent for a moment, meeting Jack's eyes. They looked lost, searching for something they might never find.

"I should have kept Carina." Rita's admission felt like the release of a sob she'd been holding in for a long time. "I could have raised her myself if I wasn't so damn selfish. I could have-"

"There's no point in regretting," Jack cut her off. "She's…alive. Strong. Healthy. In love."

Rita was taken aback.

"In love?"

"Aye. It happens sometimes, or so I hear," Jack smiled through his whisper. "Nice lad. I imagine her father wouldn't have approved."

They chuckled in unison, breathing a new mood into their bleak environment.

"Do you ever regret…" Rita began suddenly. "Do you ever regret not having all that? A family? Love?"

It clearly wasn't a question Jack was willing to think about.

"I don't…No. No, never," He decided firmly. "At best, those things would keep me tied down. At worst, they would bring pain. Hector and Margaret were a fine example of that."

"But they were happy."

The truth of that quelled Jack's criticism. He gave a small nod and placed his hand gently atop Rita's.

"And you, love? Do you regret it?"

She'd been ready for this. Smirking slightly, she slipped her hand out from under Jack's and rested it on his cheek.

"Regret is for the end of life. And we are still living," She murmured.

"Yet here you are, full of it." Jack raised an eyebrow, trying not to look surprised by her touch. Rita merely shrugged sadly. She realized they'd been speaking at barely a whisper despite the empty room. Glimmers of light were beginning to seep in, transforming the objects in the tavern from shadowed mysteries back into ordinary, unkempt entities.

"Thank you for the offer, Captain Sparrow," She dropped her hand and cast her gaze down to her cup. "But I'd like to let the past stay in the past."

Jack grinned ruefully.

"Was worth a try, anyway." He felt for his hat and plopped it on his head, emitting dark shadows down his already incomprehensible face. "I always do just fine all by me lonesome, so don't you worry about me."

"I rarely do," Rita lied, watching as he slowly rose from the table. "Though without Barbossa to save your skin this time, I fear what fate might befall you."

The corners of Jack's mouth twitched but he did not laugh.

"He was a good man," he said, sounding drunk while sober.

"No, he wasn't. None of us were," Rita amended. "He was a good pirate."

"Without Margaret keeping you in check, I predict you've been awfully reckless yourself."

"I get by."

They paused, staring not at each other, but off into space where they could pretend time had frozen for just a little bit longer. It felt like ages before the creaking of the floorboards under Jack's shifting weight lulled Rita back into reality. He cleared his throat and looked to the door.

"What's next for you?" Rita asked before he could make his exit.

"Same as always, I suppose. Collect me crew. Collect me fortune. Go until I can't go anymore," Jack sighed.

"Same old heedless Jack," she smiled up at him. "How you've managed to survive this long, I'll never know."

"I've got more brains than I look, love," He winked and put a hand on Rita's shoulder. It was tender, but she could feel his hesitation to leave tremble through the touch. "I best be off. Take care of yourself."

Rita shot him an overdramatic look of offense as she picked up her cup and held it out in front of him.

"Why, Jack," She exclaimed. "You haven't even finished your drink! Are you really going to let a lady consume her mead all alone?"

The pirate beamed and immediately slid back down into his seat, excitedly taking up his own beverage.

"To old friends, then," Jack raised his pint as high as his arm would reach. Rita mimicked his posture.

"To being alive to remember them."

"To being alive."

Their cups clattered together, and they gulped down the last few drops just as the new day set sail on the horizon.

FIN

A/N: WELL, thanks for reading all the way to the end! Your feedback/support is always immensely appreciated, and I don't think I would've finished this without y'all. I'm gonna miss all these characters, but it's been quite the ride.