Elizabeth watched Robin silently. Robin was lying on a bench in the cell, her eyes closed, appearing to be asleep. Elizabeth had so many questions to ask about James, about what happened to Jack…maybe even about Will. But Elizabeth knew that Robin would likely not wish to give up any information, and that most of what she said would probably be a lie.

"Am I really that interesting?" Robin asked suddenly, her eyes still closed.

Elizabeth jumped slightly in surprise, not having realized that Robin was awake and aware of her presence.

"Am I bothering you?"

"You sound hopeful," Robin remarked with a slight smirk. "And no, not really."

"Then I shall have to try harder."

Robin smiled. "Doesn't the Pirate King have something better to do than annoy a prisoner?" Elizabeth said nothing, gazing silently at Robin and wondering what to ask her first. "If you wish to interrogate me, asking a question would be a good start. Or shall I just talk?" Elizabeth blinked in surprise, but still said nothing. "You are wondering what happened to Jack. You want to know if James really did that to him, and why."

"Are you planning on telling me?"

Robin opened her eyes and sat up. "I might be." Robin stared at Elizabeth, her intense gaze sending a shudder through the Pirate King's body. "You are also worried about William."

Elizabeth nodded slowly. "Yes."

Robin thought silently for a moment before continuing. "As you fear, Lord Beckett does have control over him." Elizabeth searched desperately for a hint of a lie in Robin's blue eyes, but found none. "I'm afraid that he has no way out, Lizzie."

"You sound almost as though you care about him," Elizabeth said quietly.

"I do."

Robin said it so simply, so unemotionally, that Elizabeth took a few moments to register what the woman had said. "You do?" Elizabeth said in surprise. Elizabeth shook her head, thinking that this was obviously a lie. "Why are you are working for Lord Beckett? Do you like playing his whore?"

Robin suddenly leapt off the bench and towards the door of her cell, causing Elizabeth to leap back in fear. "Never," she hissed, her eyes flashing harshly. She turned her back on Elizabeth. "I am not working for Lord Beckett," she said firmly.

"Maybe not directly." Robin turned to look at Elizabeth, her eyes narrowed dangerously. "But you are working for Admiral Norrington."

Robin's eyes flashed again at this mention of James. "No."

Elizabeth grinned and was pleased to see Robin look at her with suspicion. "I know about the Blood Oath, Robin."

Robin smirked. "Oh, really?" she said, sitting back down on the bench. "Assuming that James and I were bonded by the Blood Oath, that would mean that I could not betray him, not that I would work for him. Besides…" Robin leaned back against the wood behind her. "Death has a way of breaking bonds."

"James is…dead?" Elizabeth said in shock.

Robin chuckled darkly. "You wished him to be dead when he first saw what he did to Jack, did you not?" She closed her eyes. "No, James is alive." She took a deep breath, sounding as though the subject of James pained her in some way. "I was actually referring to my own death."

Elizabeth blinked. "Your—what?" She surveyed Robin, almost as though expecting to see through her like she was a spirit. "You appear quite alive, unless, of course, you are planning on taking your life. If so, be my guest," Elizabeth said coldly.

Robin laughed. "Oh, dear Lizzie," she said mockingly. Robin leaned forward and lowered her voice. "I already have."

Elizabeth stared at Robin in shock and confusion. "You really are mad, aren't you?"

Robin laughed again, more brightly this time. "Did dear old Jack not tell you?" Robin's smile broadened at the look on Elizabeth's face. "He didn't!" she exclaimed with glee. She lowered her voice again. "We died, Elizabeth. We were killed on the same gallows from which I rescued you." Elizabeth stared at her in horror. "I had many ways out. But I did not take any of them. So we died."

Elizabeth shook her head. Jack would never keep something of that magnitude from her. And it was impossible anyway—wasn't it? "You're lying."

Robin shrugged. "Ask him."

Elizabeth shook her head again. Robin was obviously just trying to confuse her. "You're lying. And it is a very poor lie, too."

Robin lay back down onto the bench. "Believe what you will." She closed her eyes and fell silent, indicating that their conversation was over."

Elizabeth slowly stood. "I do hope you have nightmares, Robin."

Robin smiled sadly. "I shan't sleep at all, Lizzie."

"Do you feel guilty about working for the wrong side?" When Robin said nothing, Elizabeth continued, "Silly me, obviously you don't. You have no conscience. Perhaps the bench is uncomfortable," Elizabeth said in mock concern.

Robin sighed softly. "Let's go with that," she said quietly.

Elizabeth watched Robin silently for a few moments, wondering why Robin would really be unable to sleep if it was not lack of comfort. She was about to turn to leave when a tear suddenly escaped the side of Robin's eye and ran across her face towards her ear. Robin brushed it away quickly, her eyes still closed, as Elizabeth watched in surprise.

Elizabeth left the brig, the tear remaining in her mind's eye. What on earth could make such a coldhearted woman cry?

O O O

"Ah, Admiral," Lord Beckett said as Admiral Norrington entered the room. Beckett's eyes swept over him, taking in his bloodstained and torn uniform, his unshaven face, the odd wounds on his cheeks, and the dark lines beneath his eyes. "You look terrible."

Norrington chuckled in a rather dark manner that seemed unlike him. "I feel bloody awful," he said, looking down at himself. "Actually, I look a right bit better than I feel, I think."

Beckett raised his eyebrows. "You were fortunate that the Flying Dutchman came along," he said, pouring two glasses of wine. He held one out to the Admiral.

"Yes, very fortunate," Norrington agreed quietly, taking the glass and draining it in one gulp. Beckett filled another glass for him.

"I am somewhat surprised at the level of damage the Black Pearl was able to inflict upon the Ruthless." Beckett watched Norrington drain another glass. Beckett had meant to gain some sort of reaction from Norrington defending his performance in the battle or something of the like, but Norrington seemed to hardly notice that Beckett had spoken at all. "Are you well, Admiral?"

Norrington turned to him and arched an eyebrow. "Do I look 'well,' Lord Beckett?" he asked with an amused grin, taking the bottle of wine from Beckett and refilling his glass again.

Beckett was beginning to feel a little uneasy. Norrington was not behaving at all like the Admiral he had sent aboard the Ruthless to head to Shipwreck Cove. This Norrington did not appear remotely afraid of Lord Beckett, as Beckett wished all those who worked for him to be. He also did not seem to be worried about losing a ship under his command and there was something about his air that was, for lack of a better word, different. Beckett did not like different; it created unpredictability, and that was dangerous.

"You look tired," Beckett commented.

"I haven't been sleeping well."

Beckett was sorely tempted to ask if he was used to having Robin sleep by his side, but decided against it. The Norrington he remembered would likely blush and insist that he and Robin had never shared a bed—but Beckett had no idea what this Norrington would say or do in response.

"I admit to having trouble sleeping of late as well," Beckett remarked quietly.

"Nightmares, sir?"

Beckett looked up at the Admiral in surprise. "Partially."

"About Miss Sparrow?"

Beckett stared at Norrington for a few moments in silence. He was not too sure that he liked this Norrington. He was far too bold and perceptive. "Yes."

Norrington nodded. "The same."

Beckett's eyes narrowed slightly. "Really, Admiral?"

"Is it so surprising, Lord Beckett, to have nightmares about the death of the one you love?"

Beckett blinked. Surely he had not heard the Admiral correctly. "You admit it?"

Norrington arched an eyebrow at him again. "Admit what? That I love Miss Sparrow? I don't believe that is a secret, Lord Beckett, thus there is no reason for me to deny it." Norrington drained another glass of wine. Beckett briefly considered that Norrington could be drunk, but he appeared to be in control of all his faculties. More than that, he sounded suspiciously like someone else, though Beckett could not put his finger on whom.

"Miss Sparrow may not be as dead as you believe," Beckett said quietly. He noticed that Norrington froze for a brief moment as he reached for the bottle of wine again. "But you already seem to know something about that."

Norrington smiled grimly. "Unfortunately her father is also alive, Lord Beckett." Beckett watched curiously as the Admiral withdrew a penknife from his coat and turned it over in his hands, the blade reflecting eerily in his eyes. "I should have killed him when I had the chance."

Beckett's eyes narrowed. So Jack was alive as well…that was annoying. "What has Jack done to earn your hate?"

Norrington let out a sharp laugh. "You made him a pirate, did you not?" he asked, his eyes suddenly flashing in such a manner that Beckett put a hand in his jacket and wrapped it around his handgun.

"Officially, yes," Beckett said cautiously.

"But not Jacqueline."

Beckett was again suspicious of Norrington's use of the name "Jacqueline." They must have known each other quite well for Robin to let him call her that. "No, not her."

"It was Jack. Jack forced her to become a pirate, thus ruining her life and causing her death." Norrington suddenly punched a nearby wall, startling Beckett. "Then the bastard took her aboard the Pearl."

Beckett quickly thought through everything. "She…she was on the Ruthless?"

"Yes, as well as her father," Norrington said hatefully. "And now they are aboard the Black Pearl…that bloody pirate took Jacqueline with him."

Beckett opened a drawer in his desk. "They will head to Shipwreck Cove. I'm afraid that I am not aware of the Cove's exact location, given that we met their fleet before reaching it before." He glanced at Norrington and noted his confused expression. "Forgive me, Admiral. I forgot that you had died before then." Norrington smiled slightly at this comment. Beckett withdrew Jack's compass from the drawer in his desk. He did not bother opening it; he had already tried earlier that day and was annoyed to discover that it refused to point in a fixed direction for him. "What is it you want most?" he asked, holding the compass out to Norrington.

Norrington eyed Beckett suspiciously. "Does it not work for you, sir?"

Beckett frowned. "No. It doesn't," he admitted with irritation.

The Admiral reached out and took the compass from Lord Beckett. Beckett took a few steps forward so he could watch the compass as Norrington slowly opened it. The compass pointed immediately in a direction just to the left of the Flying Dutchman's current heading.

A strange thought suddenly occurred to Lord Beckett. Was the compass pointing to the woman Norrington loved, or to the man he wanted to kill? He pushed the question aside, deciding that it was not really important at the moment. "To the helm, Admiral?"