The penknife was covered with blood. More blood was dripping down his arm. James Norrington glanced down, wondering how the wound had appeared. Had he sustained the wound to the arm in the battle, or had he just inflicted it on himself? His mind was so clouded, so foggy…he was no longer certain of what was happening anymore. There was only one thing that seemed important at the present moment.

Jacqueline was gone.

A scrawled note had been left in her place on the bed, the penknife pinning it to the headboard. Norrington had yet to decipher most of it—it had obviously been written in a hurry.

From what Norrington had already read, Jacqueline had planned (and apparently succeeded) to leave the Ruthless and board the Black Pearl with her father. After she had written that, the script had become much more careless, almost as though written in anger. The only parts Norrington could read at a glance were "bastard," "like Lord Beckett," and then her signature: Robin Sparrow.

Robin—not Jacqueline. Norrington hit a nearby wall, hardly feeling the pain that shot through his arm as he did so. Why did she do this? Norrington took another gulp of rum, annoyed when he discovered that it was the last of the bottle. He looked at the letter clenched in his fist again. With an angry yell, he threw the empty bottle at the wall behind him and watched it shatter into thousands of little pieces and scatter across the floor.

There was a hesitant knock at the door. "Admiral? Are you all right, sir?" someone asked.

Norrington looked at the door, briefly considering shooting whoever was on the other side. "No, I'm not. But neither is anyone else onboard this ship. Do you have something to report?"

"Casualty list, sir, and a report on damages to the ship."

Opening the door, Norrington asked, "How soon can the ship be ready for pursuit?"

The Lieutenant shifted uncomfortably. "It won't be, sir."

Norrington raised his eyebrows. "Oh?" he said simply, twirling the penknife casually in his fingers. The Lieutenant watched the blade uneasily.

"They took out our main mast and our mizzen-mast, sir. We can't do anything but drift and hope that another ship comes along."

"Or we all die," Norrington finished casually. "Which brings us to the casualty list."

The Lieutenant held out a paper upon which was written a rather long list of names. "They really hit us hard, sir."

"The captain did not recover?" Norrington commented, noting the name written at the top of the list.

The Lieutenant shook his head sadly. "No, sir. Captain Gillette never really had a chance, with a wound like that."

Norrington took a deep breath. "Very well. Apparently we drift. Thank you for the report, Lieutenant." Without another word, Norrington slammed the door in the man's face. He stood there for a moment, looking around the room: at the wall that had been covered in Jack's blood, at the desk where his own blood stained the wood, and at the bed…

Norrington fell to his knees, the penknife in one hand and the note from Jacqueline in the other. He felt his legs being cut by the broken glass from the bottle of rum, but he did not move. He dropped the penknife and unfolded the note again, rereading what he could through the angry tears that were filling his eyes.

How could she do this to him? How could she betray him so, again? He, who loved her, who had done everything for her, who was willing to die the worst of deaths for her, who was willing to slaughter the world for her. Why wasn't everything he did ever enough? He was only a man, for God's sake; he could not control the seas or do away with death. All he could do was try and destroy pirates so as to make the seas safer and possibly hold off death a little longer.

And he had failed, yet again. Gillette, his long-time fellow officer, his friend, was dead. So were many others of the crew. Jacqueline was not here anymore; Norrington could not protect her. Tears of fury and sorrow trailed down his cheeks. Why would Jacqueline do this to him? She knew how he felt. She must have known what leaving would do to him. She had left before, all those years ago, but later admitted that she would change that if she could—so why would she leave again? Why would she tear out his heart again?

Norrington gazed at her signature and wondered why she had signed it Robin, not Jacqueline. At first, he had believed that it was meant to hurt him more. But why would Jacqueline want to hurt him? Why would she have written all of this?

The answer suddenly presented itself in his mind, so obvious that Norrington was ashamed of not realizing it before.

Because she didn't.

Jacqueline would never do this to him, he was certain of it. She had no reason to pour such hatred into a letter a then abandon him. He looked up at the bed. The woman he had shared it with could not possibly hate him, and the only thing that she could be angry with him for was something that she apparently already forgave on some level, given what had nearly happened. And then there was the matter of the Blood Oath.

But that left only one possibility for what had happened to the Sparrows. Norrington's hand clenched into a fist again, crushing the letter. His blood thundered in his head and hatred filled him yet again as he snarled the name, "Jack!"

O O O

"The Blood Oath?" Jack repeated quietly to Mr. Gibbs.

"Aye, Captain."

"You're sure about this?"

Mr. Gibbs nodded. "Not completely, but damn well near it."

Jack and Mr. Gibbs stood at the helm, watching Robin, Captain Robin now, carefully as she stood and silently gazed out at the sea, Barbossa's piece of eight still clutched in her hand. Jack sighed heavily. "Mr. Gibbs, I regret to inform you of this, and I think you should keep this to yourself, but Robin and I did not make it out of Port Royal unscathed."

"That was obvious, Captain."

Jack was momentarily confused. Was the crew of the Black Pearl aware that he and his daughter had died on the gallows? Then he noticed that Mr. Gibbs' eyes were surveying his body, taking in the heavy damage Norrington had done to him.

"No, no…well, that too…but Robin and I…I never thought these words would be out of me mouth again…we died." Jack was rather amused by the wide-eyed look he received from Mr. Gibbs as he said this.

"Did you now?" He looked back at Robin, who seemed to be talking to the monkey that was clambering around on her shoulders. "In truth, I don't know if death breaks the Blood Oath or not. That's never really been tested before, to my knowledge." Jack smiled slightly. "But if not…" Mr. Gibbs gave Jack a knowing look.

"We can't risk having her wander free, you mean." Jack took a deep breath. "She's not going to like this." Jack took a step away from the wheel and stumbled. Mr. Gibbs hardly managed to keep him from falling down the nearby stairs.

"Are you all right, Captain?"

Jack steadied himself against the railing. "Bloody Norrington," he muttered with frustration.

"You need rest, Captain."

"I'll get it later," Jack said quietly. "If Robin really is still working with Norrington, we need to get her to the brig…"

"Still working with James?"

Jack turned to see Elizabeth approaching him. She looked down at Robin. "But she's a Pirate Lord now." Turning back to Jack, Elizabeth continued, "We cannot have someone like her in the Brethren Court."

"I'm afraid that the choice is not yours to make, Lizzie."

Jack was confused to see his daughter suddenly standing behind Elizabeth. How had she gotten up there so quickly, and without anyone noticing?

"Captain Barbossa named me his successor," Robin said, her blue eyes glinting. "Even the Pirate King can't do anything about that," she continued with a smirk as she scratched Jack the Monkey's head.

Elizabeth drew her cutlass and put it to Robin's neck. "Oh, can't I?"

Robin continued smiling despite the blade threatening her life. "Kill me and the Brethren Court will never meet in full again, and without the Brethren, the pirates will fall."

"You speak as though you are not one of them," Elizabeth said through clenched teeth.

"So do you," Robin responded quietly.

There was a rather awkward silence as Elizabeth slowly lowered her weapon. "Take her to the brig," Elizabeth ordered. Mr. Gibbs, being the only one nearby without the title of "Captain," motioned for Robin to precede him down the stairs. Robin glared at the Pirate King, but nodded in mock respect and headed down to the brig, gently pushing the monkey from her shoulder.

Jack the Monkey climbed into the rigging of the ship and stared unblinkingly at Jack Sparrow, who tried to ignore it for a few minutes before finally saying, "Shoo."

But the monkey stayed.