Disclaimer: I don't own any of POTC's fabulous characters.

A/N: This short fic is in response to a drabble challenge from AhiFlame. The challenge was to write a POTC story and include quotes from another movie. So, there are 4 quotes all from one movie. Give yourself a pat on the back if you can figure out which movie!

The clouds blocked out the sun's warmth and the rain fell to the earth so heavily that the streets were beginning to flood. Will shook his head sadly as he stared out the window. It looked as though heaven had opened up and even the angels were weeping for her.

"She's not lost, ye know," Anamaria said as she dropped onto the bench opposite the young blacksmith and slid another tankard of ale across the table. "If ye keep her in you're heart, then she'll ne'er really be gone."

The lady pirate jumped slightly in her seat as Will slammed his fist down on the tabletop, knocking the mug of ale onto the dirty floor. "She is gone, Anamaria. My wife is dead and it's all my best friend's fault."

"Don't you dare say that, boy. That was in God's hands."

"Was it? That bullet was meant for him," Will said, "She wasn't supposed to die. He was. If not for him, my wife would have been safe at home, not in some pub in Tortuga."

Will could tell that the woman wanted to say more. In her brown eyes, Will could see that she wanted to say that blaming Jack would not do any good, and more importantly, that blaming Jack wouldn't bring Elizabeth back. But, she remained silent.

Once again, Will let his eyes wander out the window. The normally bustling streets of Tortuga were now empty. Empty save for one man. Will could barely see him through the pouring rain, but he was there, down by the docks nursing a bottle of rum and sitting in the rain.

Slowly, Will rose to his feet and headed for the tavern door. Outside, seeking shelter under the leaky porch, Mr. Gibbs stood watching his Captain. Without saying a word, the older sailor placed his arm around Will's shoulders.

"We were happy," Will said, his voice sounding small and afraid.

"It is hard to tell of happiness, lad. Time goes by and we feel safe too soon."

"We were safe, and we were happy," Will insisted, "but she had to come here. She said that she missed the adventure."

Gibbs nodded.

"Why? What is it about him? He's crazy. He's a drunk, and she couldn't wait to see him." Will lowered his eyes. He saw drops falling into the puddles beneath his feet and knew that they were not from the rain.

"Some people hear their own inner voices with great clearness and they live by what they hear. Such people become crazy, but they become legends."

"What?"

"Your father said that."

"You knew my father, too?"

"Met 'im, is more like it. First time I ever met Jack, he was with your dad. He staggered out of the pub, like he does, and I asked your dad why on earth he would want to sail with the likes of Jack. That's what 'e told me."

The blacksmith shrugged off Mr. Gibbs arm and stepped into the rain. As he approached the docks, he saw Jack sitting on a wooden crate, his shoulder's slumped. Will stood next to the man who had once risked so much to save Elizabeth. Now, he found it hard to even look at the pirate.

"That ship is bound for Port Royal," Will said. "She sails in a half hour. I'll be on board."

"Figured you would be," Jack said, his voice uncharacteristically flat. His eyes were rimmed red and fixed on the sea.

Will followed the pirate's stare. The Black Pearl was anchored in Tortuga's crowded harbor. That ship had stolen his wife, again. Elizabeth used to stand at their bedroom window and imagine her black sails billowing in the breeze. She always reminisced on their short time of adventure on the high seas.

"I just don't get it, Jack. I followed all of the rules, man's and Gods. And you, you followed none of them. And they all loved you more. My father . . . and even my own wife."

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