Chapter Thirty Six:
Shades of Shame

Jack gave a cocky grin and then looked across the crate to Dallin. He had slipped below deck and dug up a bottle of rum that had been hidden away and now the only thing he was concerned about was the game of cards he was cheating at. Not that cheating was really necessary while playing against Dallin; the boy was easier to read than most books.

Jack slapped his cards down on the table, "this just isn't your night, mate." Even Jack could tell his voice was a bit more slurred than usual but had enough alcohol in him that he really didn't care.

"What are you talking about?" Dallin questioned as he stared at the terrible hand Jack had placed on the table before him.

Jack blinked and looked at the cards again. "I got the high card."

"The highest card you have is a six," Dallin pointed out. It was obvious that Jack would either need to sleep off the rum he had been drinking or he would end up passed out on the deck of the ship.

"Aye," Jack agreed. "Anything above a six is technically a low card." His hands were clumsily trying to make his point as he spoke.

"And the ones below?"

"Anything below a six is obviously a low card, lad," Jack insisted.

Dallin couldn't help but grin at the completely drunken logic, or lack thereof. "I just assumed that the basic rules of numbers were implied when playing a game involving—numbers."

"Ah," Jack said as he pointed emphatically at him. "Sorry to disappoint, mate, but implications don't count. You have to specify the rules of the game, savvy? Those aren't my rules, the specification of the rules are—implied—as it were."

"So, if you have to specify something that is implied, how do you go about implying something that isn't already specified?" Dallin asked with a mischievous grin.

Jack furrowed his brow, clearly not able to wrap his mind around Dallin's words at the moment. "How about we just call it square, what say you?"

"Aye," Dallin agreed with a nod then stood. "Since we're calling this even, we can split the wager. Since I looked after Pepe today, he's yours all day tomorrow."

Jack looked confused for a moment, not recalling making any wagers with Dallin when they began the game. "I can't seem to recall making that wager."

Dallin smirked, "it was—implied." He then turned and walked off, leaving Jack to mull over the conversation and doubting he would make any sense of it.

Elizabeth drew herself from the book she was reading when she heard a knock at the front door. The sound of Estrella abandoning the kitchen and walking through the main foyer caused Elizabeth to return to her reading. This was no longer her home and she imagined that whoever was at the door was looking to speak with her father. She was currently seated in his study reading over some more books, hoping to discover something that might help her understand more about the statue that Kaitlyn possessed. Not more than ten minutes later she heard footsteps coming down the corridor toward the study so she set the book down on the desk and looked up, expecting to see her father. However, it was the Commodore, and not the Governor who materialized before her.

"I hope I'm not intruding," he said apologetically.

Elizabeth shook her head and motioned to the chairs that were in the room. "Not at all, please join me."

James stepped inside the small room. It had many books, a small fireplace and beautiful wooden furnishings; a large window on the east wall let the sunlight spill into the room, so that they could avoid the need for candles or lanterns during the day. "I spoke with your father. I had hoped to simply allow Lieutenant Gillette escort Miss Harris home, but given the circumstances, the Governor and I have both decided it would be best if I accompany them."

Elizabeth nodded in understanding. The Commodore had already risked his career quite enough. The clemency that had been granted to Will upon his return to Port Royal had not went over well with the Navy and East India Company. Both James and Governor Swann had been questioned extensively about the incident. A significant amount of men had been killed the night they saved Will's life at the Isle de Muerta and such a thing simply could not be overlooked. The fact that Captain Barbossa and his crew had attacked so many civilian ships and ports was really the only thing that had kept both the Commodore and Governor from being punished for what had happened.

When he had been questioned about his decision to pursue the Black Pearl, James had chosen to omit Elizabeth's promise to marry him. Rather, he explained that Captain Barbossa and his men had claimed far too many civilian lives over the past decade to simply allow it to continue. It was, in fact, the Navy's job to protect civilians, even if it meant sacrificing themselves for the greater good.

Governor Swann had taken it upon himself to mention that the jail had been destroyed during the attack on Port Royal and, to the best of his knowledge that was how Jack Sparrow had escaped. Young William had merely joined him in order to save Elizabeth's life.

When questioned about Jack Sparrow's escape from Port Royal and his hanging, both men had said that they had believed he had perished when he had fallen from the cliff, explaining that a search of the area had not revealed his body and the Commodore had chosen to leave the following morning in search of him but found no proof that he had survived the fall. Both had known that their stories were dubious, at best, but realized that it was the only way to present the situation so that they wouldn't face harsh punishment. Certainly, no one would have believed the truth; that Captain Barbossa and his crew had been cursed men and Jack, one of the Caribbean's most notorious pirates, had not deserved to hang.

"When will you be leaving?" She questioned.

"I have matters to attend to this evening," James replied. "I hope to leave first thing tomorrow."

"Good," Elizabeth mused. "Kaitlyn is exhausted. She's napping in my old room right now. Estrella is preparing dinner. Would you care to join us?"

For a moment James remained silent and then he seemed to relax and gaze around the small study. "I promised Charlotte that I would visit her this evening, since I will be leaving tomorrow."

Elizabeth smiled. She had been taken by surprise the first time she had spied the Commodore chatting easily with Charlotte Berwick. She was a few years older than Elizabeth and had light brown hair and soft blue eyes. Her father was a shop owner and though her family wasn't as well off as the Swanns or even the Commodore him self, they were well liked and respected citizens. Charlotte was a kind but quiet young woman. She was very petite and pretty. Her small stature and blue eyes, made Elizabeth believe she would look forever young and sweet.

Given James' take charge personality; it had seemed strange at first to see him with such a gentle, soft spoken woman. But after getting to know Charlotte a little better, she had realized just how kind and supportive she would be for a man like the Commodore. They had been courting for nearly three months now and always seemed quite happy in each other's company.

The relationship had made Elizabeth take a look at her self. What if she had kept to her bargain and married James Norrington? Both had great respect for the other, but Elizabeth had grown up with only her father and was quite used to getting her way and being in charge of her own life. She felt that eventually, there would have been quite a lot of tension between two people of such similar personality.

Will had always been much more quiet and shy but always accepting of who Elizabeth was. He would never speak down to her or treat her as inferior. He seemed to have a great respect for her strength and felt no need to compete with her for dominance in their relationship. What was possibly the most endearing trait was that he wasn't bothered to be caring; offering her compliments, small gifts or lying with her and talking about their future or anything else that suited them. Unlike many men, he didn't feel the need to go to the tavern every evening for a few drinks or even worse, find other women to entertain him.

"Charlotte is invited too, of course," Elizabeth said. "Poor Kaitlyn has been out to sea with filthy sailors for months; having a nice civil dinner with other females present might help her a great deal. Besides, come tomorrow she'll be in your charge, don't you think you should get to know her?"

For a moment James sat contemplating her before he lifted himself from his seat and paced the small room. His gaze lingered as he passed the window then he poured himself a glass of the Governor's brandy. "I have this nagging feeling that I am going to regret this."

"Regret returning Kaitlyn home?"

"No, of course not," James said. "She's done nothing wrong. Allowing Jack Sparrow to black mail me, on the other hand…"

"Blackmail you?" Elizabeth said in surprise. It had been her understanding that he and Jack had simply settled on an agreement.

James looked at her and then smirked and looked back out the window, "He informed me that if I refused to help him, he would see that everyone was made aware of the—agreement—you and I made after I rescued the two of you from that island. Even if I avoid reprimand, it certainly wouldn't do me any good to remain here, now would it? Image what my reputation would become once people found out I led my men to their deaths; that my actions left wives widowed and children without their fathers." James glanced at her again, "all to gain you as my wife."

Elizabeth held his gaze for a moment and then looked away as guilt began to settle into her own chest. She was just as responsible for those deaths as the Commodore, probably more so. She had agreed to marry him, knowing doing so would cause him to go after The Pearl and Will. She had also known that even when she did try to tell them about the curse, no one would believe her. She had helped lead many good men to their death, in order to save a life that was important to her and then she chose to marry Will and left James with the burden of losing many of his comrades.

"You couldn't have known," she said meekly.

"Known what exactly?" He scoffed. "That my men would be ambushed by pirates that were incapable of dying? Or that many good men would die; leaving their families in complete disarray so that you and Mr. Turner could find happiness?" The sharp words stung and she felt tears burning her eyes as a familiar shame began to linger in her heart.

"I'm afraid I will have to decline your invitation," he continued as he set his empty glass down and walked toward the door. Before he exited the room he stopped and then turned to face her. "Tell me, Elizabeth, do you still find piracy to be quite fascinating?"

Her glassy eyes met his and she took in a deep breath, trying to keep her tears at bay. The pirates that had always captivated her weren't real pirates. There was the occasional pirate that held a good heart deep down; but the act of piracy, killing innocent people that didn't deserve to die, was not something she could live with. "No," she whispered as a tear finally trailed down her cheek. He watched her for a moment and then simply turned and left her to face her own conscience.

Will knocked and waited patiently for Estrella to answer the door. He and Elizabeth often ate dinner with her father in the evenings; even so, he didn't feel comfortable entering the house unannounced.

"Good evening," Estrella said pleasantly as she opened the door.

"Dinner smells wonderful," he said in reply as he stepped inside.

"Aye, tonight we're having langouste," she informed him.

"That sounds delicious."

Langouste was a clawless Caribbean lobster and like most dishes prepared for the Governor, was far more expensive than what Will could afford.

"Where's Elizabeth?"

"I can't rightly say," Estrella answered. "I've been in the kitchen preparing dinner. I would check up in her room if I were you."

"Thank you, Estrella," Will said politely. As soon as she hurried back to the kitchen he started up the stairs and quietly knocked on the door to Elizabeth's former room and then stepped inside tentatively. Kaitlyn was just getting herself out of bed when he entered. She was in the process of buttoning up her dress and he quickly averted his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I was hoping to speak with Elizabeth."

Kaitlyn laughed inwardly at how easily something could cause him to blush. "We really have to stop meeting this way," she said with a good natured smile as she stood. "Elizabeth said she was going to spend some time in her father's study, I believe."

Will looked at her again and nodded. Thankfully, this time she had been mostly clothed when he had walked into the room.

"Do you mind if I ask you a question?" Kaitlyn queried.

"Not at all."

"How is it that you know Jack," she asked. "You and Elizabeth hardly seem the type of people to spend your time with pirates."

"It's a complicated story," Will admitted. "Jack knew my father years before I was born."

"So he's a friend of the family?"

"Not—exactly," Will smirked, "more of an acquaintance of the family."

"Was your father a sailor?"

"My father was a pirate." Uttering those words had not come easily to Will. After his encounter with Captain Barbossa and getting to know Jack and his crew better, he found himself less ashamed of his roots. He had learned that not all men that live by the law found themselves morally obliged to it, while some men living out side of it were good men at heart.

"He was a pirate?"

"He died," he told her. "He was killed because he disagreed with the crew's decision to mutiny and leave Jack on an island to die."

"I'm so sorry," Kaitlyn said earnestly. "I had no idea. Jack didn't speak of the mutiny often, though it is always in the back of his mind." The confession caused Kaitlyn to recall the night Jack had woken her after he had experienced a dream. He had believed his father had been aboard Isidro Saez's crew, and while he had disagreed with the mutiny, he had chosen his own life rather than trying to protect Isidro or Catalina.

"Did he ever tell you his ridiculous story about sea turtles?" Will questioned with a slight grin.

"Sea turtles? I don't believe so," Kaitlyn answered, her curiosity now peaked.

"Apparently, it's how escaped the island," Will said. "He waded into the shallows and waited for days before roping himself a couple of sea turtles."

Kaitlyn couldn't help but laugh. "I suppose his crew believed that."

"It was Mr. Gibbs that told me," Will said. "Jack told Elizabeth that he had actually bartered his way off of the island when a ship full of rum runners stopped to pick up their supplies."

"Rum runners," Kaitlyn mused. "It is a much less interesting story than sea turtles."

"To be honest, I'm surprised they had any supply left on the island," Will quipped.

Kaitlyn smiled then glanced to the hall behind him. "I suppose we should find Elizabeth, it smells like dinner will be ready soon."

Will nodded in agreement and stepped aside so she could exit the room and then followed her down stairs toward the study. He couldn't help wondering how and why someone like Kaitlyn would become involved with the likes of Jack Sparrow but knew it wasn't really appropriate to question her about her personal life. Maybe somewhere inside of Jack, there really was a good man, despite his attempts to hide it from the world.

"You know, that monkey is actually not bad at playing cards," Gibbs quipped as he walked up to Jack who, quite frankly, looked like he could pass out at any given moment.

Jack smirked but said nothing of the small animal that was seated on his shoulder, playing with the cards that he and Dallin had been using not an hour earlier. He was beginning to sober but knew that he had a long night ahead of him. The sun was just preparing to set and the crew had set sail not long after it had risen.

"The crew has a few questions for you," Gibbs continued, deciding it was best to get to the point.

"They would like to know what has become of the statue, no doubt," Jack said without any real fanfare. Quite frankly, he figured he might very well be inebriated enough that he wouldn't be able to think up lies fast enough for his first mate to buy into them, so the truth was probably the way to go for the time being.

"It's only fair, we did spend months trying to find it," Gibbs pointed out.

"The Angel del Muerta is currently in Kaitlyn's possession," Jack admitted. "There's no sense risking letting the curse find its way into the crew, eh?"

"Aye," Gibbs agreed reluctantly. "But they still want their share of the spoils, Jack. You can't keep a crew out for months and not compensate them for it."

Jack sighed heavily and looked to the older man. He had known Gibbs for years, ever since he had been branded a pirate. Though his father had been a pirate, Jack had avoided the title until he had worked along side Ackhart. The sea had always been in Jack's blood but the need to plunder and pillage had never been his top priorities.

Truthfully, he probably could have served in the navy if he were more apt to taking orders, as long as it meant he could remain on the sea. But a pirates' life is what he was destined for, like his father before him. Joshamee Gibbs had been one of the first people he met after his run in with the East India Company and to his credit; he had tried to warn Jack about taking up with the likes of Barbossa and the men he traveled with.

Unfortunately, Jack hadn't made a name for him self at that time and had no choice but to accept any able bodied crewmen that were willing to work. Now he could tell that once again, his first mate was looking out for him and trying to get the situation under control before Jack was left facing another mutiny or worse.

"You can assure the crew that they will be well compensated for their efforts," Jack informed him curtly.

Gibbs nodded but stood watching him for a long moment. "What do you intend to do now, Captain?" Now that both Kaitlyn and the statue were gone, they had no real plan before them.

Jack stood abruptly and smirked, "Right now, I have every intention of going below deck and finding meself another bottle of rum." Before Gibbs could offer any protest, Jack sauntered past him and across the deck.

"That's what I was afraid of," Gibbs sighed to him self and returned to his post, knowing that until Jack put away the rum, he would likely be in charge of thing.

A/N: I'm so sorry for the lack of updating and this update not being great. I've been so busy and sick from chemo and doctors that I just haven't been able to put much effort into writing.

We haven't found a donor for my transplant yet, but we have two potential donors (out of 10 million people on the registry!)

I felt some of the stuff in this chapter was necessary, since I began writing this a year before DMC was released. I needed to explain the consequences of what had happened at the end of the first movie, since I brought the Port Royal characters into it.

I also wanted to give Norrington a chance to give Elizabeth a piece of his mind. As for Elizabeth, I am keeping her in line with the original movie. In part two, they turned her into a selfish "Mary Sue" type character and I couldn't stand her. In part one, it seemed as though she cared what happened to other people, in part two, she used everyone and only really seemed to care about herself (ex. She complained about her life not being what she wanted…yet, did she ever express real concern for Will's safety or even her father's, since he was caught freeing her from prison? All the while flirting with Jack?) She seemed very shameless in part two and I didn't like the drastic changes in her personality. So my characters will all remain in line with the original movie and characters that we were introduced to.