Chapter 37: Slightly More Resolved

"Come on, we have to go and see if Norrington needs our help!" Tia said, shoving Davy in front of her. He was staggering more then walking now, and was holding onto his wrist, where the exaggeration shot was, and staring at it for long periods of time. "Davy?"

"Aye, aye... right ye are..." He said, his usually booming voice sounding oddly faint. Then he cocked his head at Tia. She frowned at him. He seemed in sort of dream-state .She was about to ask him what was wrong, when Davy full-on collapsed on her.

"No... stupid coffee beans... don't wear off now!" She howled.

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"Cutler?" He looked up from the ground where he'd been lying. Clara was standing over him, her arms folded. He frowned distastefully at her, before going back to staring at the 'sky' – that is to say, whiteness that was above him. "Hello?"

"Shut up." Beckett said, stubbornly.

"Aww, come on, don't get in a huff. I have a life, you know. I can't stay here in fanfiction-land with you for ever!" Clara knelt down next to him, and started fiddling with his wig. He jerked upright, glaring at her.

"So I'm going to be kept here like some sort of pet that you can come and see whenever you want, but dump here for the rest of the time?" He asked.

"Now you're getting the idea," Clara said with a smile, "You're my boy-toy now." Beckett tried not to gag. He realized that there was a lot he'd have to do before he could gain sufficient trust to get out of here. And not all of it was going to be... gentlemanly.

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The Suethor ambled into the room, yawning, and scratching her head. She was still constantly changing, into every single Sue in existence, and back again. She smacked her rapidly changing, but generally plump and pouting lips and then pulled up a chair, sitting back in it. James Norrington crouched under the desk, trying not to look up her skirt. Great. Well this was just great.

He heard Elizabeth screaming downstairs, and realized that she could be dying right now! Oh, and Will too, he supposed. He looked at the feet in front of him, changing from leather thigh-length boots to dainty ballet pumps and sandals made of shells, and knew what he must do. It was dangerous. And very stupid.

I'm turning into Jack Sparrow, he thought sadly, before diving out from under the desk, doing a sort of rugby-tackle on the Suethor, which sent the surprised Queen of xXoCeaNRoMaNCeLoVeXx flying across the room, and then ran for the door, the keys jangling in his hand.

"GARDSSSSS GTE HIMM" She screeched, as he vanished down the stairwell.

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"Will..." Elizabeth whispered, hardly daring to open her mouth. The worms were up to her torso now, and her hands and arms were coated with them, from all of the times she'd tried to wipe them off of her dress, and she was knee-deep in blood and gore, and up to her elbows in it too, "I don't think James is going to get here on time."

"Tosser." Will muttered, flicking a worm that was crawling up towards his neck off. He sighed and looked at the ground. "I think this might be the end."

"Oh, Will..." Elizabeth began, when the door suddenly banged open. They both turned to see James Norrington stumbling down into the cellar, carrying a bunch of keys, looking wide-eyed and frightened, like a three year old who had just had a nightmare. "Oh, James! You did it!" Elizabeth said, smiling at him.

"Get us out of here, quickly," Will said with a scowl. Elizabeth didn't notice. James ran up to her cage, and picked a key at random, shoved it in, and then turned it. No luck. He tried the next one. And the next... and the next... and the next...

"James, hurry!" Elizabeth sounded a little more shrill now, as the worms began crawling higher upwards, closer to her head. "What will I do without my brain?!" At this point, several Elizabashers laughed, though there was no real joke. But that is the nature of Elizabashers.

He fumbled with the keys, almost dropping them at one point, his mind rushing his thoughts in a panic. Did I just miss one? What if the right key is the very last one? Should I go in the opposite direction? What if the next one up is the right one though? He scrambled and turned and yanked, until the worms were up to their necks.

"James!" Screamed Elizabeth, as one tickled under her chin.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." He babbled, trying to go even faster, losing his place, accidentally missing keys... And then, he stuck one in, and click... His heart soared as he yanked Elizabeth out, brushing her down, the worms tried to cling to him too, but he ignored them, running over to Will's cage, shoving the next key in, which luckily worked. He leapt out of the worm-infested cage, shaking himself all over. He grabbed the sack-of-flames from James, and doused himself with it, making the worms curl up and drop to the floor. He pointed it to Elizabeth, to get them off of her too.

"Thank you, James," Elizabeth said, touching his arm. He would have loved to stand there forever, locked in her gaze, but he had to pull himself away.

"We have to go. Now. I just shoved the Suethor into a wastepaper basket!" James said, looking very, very afraid. Elizabeth laughed, but then realized he wasn't joking.

"We're dead." She said. Will kicked open the back door.

"Come on!" He shouted, glaring at James.

NB: Hmm. So the worm crisis is over... ish. For now. And everything is just slightly more resolved. Beckett is still sneaking in with snippets of what's happening to him in the meantime. I'd keep an eye on those. Or maybe not, in the next chapter...

And thanks to Pink Illusion for spotting the mistake in this chapter... it is now corrected. I should probably get myself a beta... Oh well.

Tune in next time for... Chapter 38 - Bond(age)ing with the Writer