Present

Elizabeth reached out and placed a soft hand against her lover's cheek, staring up into his dark eyes. It was said that the eyes were the windows to the soul and she knew that she had to agree with that. There was so much pain there, yet a spark of hope that had been nurtured for years and now was steadily rekindling itself. She wondered what Will saw in her eyes, what story she was telling him without saying a word.

"I have Jack to thank for so much." She said quietly and slid across the small love seat to lie in his arms. Shutting her eyes, she breathed in the deep scent of him. Just as she remembered except now she could smell the salt of the sea on him slightly.

"If it hadn't been for him, things would have gone very differently..." Will said quietly, staring at the fire in the hearth. He watched the flames jump and the shadows moving across the wall. He could feel Elizabeth lying against him, her hand rubbing his chest gently over his heart. "Perhaps I wouldn't even be here." The thought was a torturous one. It was a double edged blade. Jack wasn't here because he was. So did that mean if he hadn't been here, if he had died, that Jack would be? Feelings of guilt overwhelmed him as Elizabeth snuggled closer. He knew she was patiently waiting for him to continue. He would at least give her that.

Four years earlier

The past few years had not been easy ones. After his 'talk' with Jack, Will had begun taking steps towards turning his life around, or as much as a pirate could for that matter. At first he had considered scraping the idea altogether as he found that adjusting to the society into which he had been thrown was not as easy as it seemed. The pirates rarely took the lanky ex-blacksmith seriously now that the aura of anger that had seemed to surround him was fading. His one escape had been sleeping at night, but since he had allowed himself to indulge in emotions again, nightmares plagued him. Memories resurfaced to combine with his overactive imagination to form horrifying images. Night after night he had seen Elizabeth fall beneath a blade, only to see himself as the one standing over her, laughing. Every time he woke up in the crew quarters, he was sweaty and burning with a fever that wasn't caused by sickness, but his own fevered dreams.

There were some aspects of pirate life that he had adjusted to. The early call for the crew to come on deck and start the daily round of chores was no earlier than the time he had gotten up to open the smithy back on Port Royal. The chores were no more than maintenance work, scrubbing the decks and adjusting the lines. He'd cleaned the shop many times as a child while Brown would fumble around the shop drunkenly in an attempt to fill orders. However, the long trips with nothing to do were something he hadn't expected. He thought that the life of a pirate was always filled with danger and excitement. When he had said this to Jack, the pirate captain had merely laughed in amusement and proceeded to explain that the life of a pirate was greatly over exaggerated. Most of the time on the ship was spent doing what work needed to be done or playing cards. Attacking ships wasn't done as much as was thought.

Will had taken to practicing with his sword again. While the crew played cards or for the lucky few who were illiterate, read, he was up on deck, taking himself through the motions with cutlass in hand, enjoying the feel of the practice again. It had a calming effect to it, making him feel more at peace than he had in years. Of course, there were still ripples beneath the surface. Lying in the darkness as he waited for sleep, he thought about Elizabeth and Emma. What would they think of the man he had become?

Jack twisted in his seat to see around the rather large man who had sat himself in Jack's view of the bar. Just as he'd managed to lean forward enough to see around him, the man leaned farther back in his chair. At that point, Jack almost had his ear to the ground because he was leaning so far forward. With a frustrated growl, he stood up and looked over the many heads of the crowd, looking for one in particular.

"William!" He bellowed above the ruckus, catching the attention of the younger pirate. Will turned to look in the direction of the voice and Jack managed to get the point across that he and the others at the table wanted their ale and rum and they wanted them now. That done, he sat down at the table. Gibbs was tapping his fingers on the desk in a fashion that was quite irritating to Jack. If Will didn't return with the drinks soon, he was going to make Gibbs eat each and everyone of those drumming fingers. He shot the quartermaster a dark glare and then glanced to Anamaria. She was glancing around the bar, trying to feign boredom.

Four mugs clattered down on the table, sloshing a little rum and ale here and there on the surface. Will slid the mugs to their respective owner and sat down in his chair across from Jack. For a while there was only silence at the table in the middle of the chaos that was the Tortugan bar as they all sipped at their drinks, having moments of quiet contemplation.

"You Jack Sparrow?" The nasally voice inquired. Jack turned nonchalantly in his seat to see the speaker of the voice. He nearly laughed out loud at the gangly lad staring at him, cutlass drawn and stance aggressive. He wondered when the last time the boy had seen a decent meal. Raising an eyebrow, he shifted so he was leaning back against the edge of the table, a smirk on his face.

"Aye. What of it?" He responded.

"I, Joseph Henry, have come to kill you and take over your ship!" The boy said, chest swelling in pride. "In fact, I have my own crew all ready to take over when I'm standing over your freshly dead body." He pointed the cutlass at Jack, who was quiet for a moment before bursting out into laughter. "You don't believe me, do you? Come on out boys!"

Around the four pirates, chairs scraped away from tables and six boys got up to join Joseph, who looked immensely proud of himself. "Now what say you, Captain Sparrow?" By that point, Jack had managed to quit laughing and began rubbing his chin thoughtfully. It wasn't the first time he'd been challenged for his ship, nor would it be the last. Being a legend in the Caribbean meant that everyone wanted to have your head and Jack took that in stride. In fact, he thrived on the challenge of finding new ways to disperse the type.

"I don't know." He said finally. "Mighty fine crew you've got yourself, lad. But..." He stood up, placing a palm on his cutlass. "My crew is better." As soon as the word had left his lips, Gibbs, Ana, and Will were all on their feet behind him. The three people behind him were the only ones he would ever trust with his life, despite the fact that building friendships were considered to be a downfall. Pirates needed to watch their own backs as supposed friends could cut them down in a second. But these people he trusted and they never disappointed him, time and time again.

He noted that the 'crew' standing behind Joseph looked slightly nervous now. The boy himself had looked like he was about to run for it, but quickly regained his composure. "My crew could hang yours in a moment. I've got some of the finest sword fighters in Tortuga on me side." He bragged. Jack glanced around at their faces and then down to the weapons. Most of them were second hand, scratched up and they gave the impression that they would break trying to knock away a blow.

"I've got a few of the fiercest and talented sword fighters in the Caribbean." Jack said easily, both hands still lying loosely on the hilt of his cutlass. He raised an eyebrow. "Which you'll soon find out if you keep up this nonsense."

Around them the bar had gone almost silent; men and women watching to see what would take place. There was no doubt that Jack Sparrow would win this competition, but that wasn't why they were watching. It was how Jack would fend off the boys that would be interesting.

Joseph had apparently had enough of being mocked by the man he had dreamed of killing. He pointed his cutlass at Jack. "Get them!" He commanded. The young group of wannabe pirates leapt forward, leaving Jack to Joseph. Ana met the first boy head on, knocking away his blade and giving him a good whack upside the head with the flat of her blade. He fell to his knees, holding the side of his head as he whimpered and crawled away.

"Can't even have a peaceful drink anymore." Gibbs muttered as he grabbed one young boy by the scruff of the neck and tossed his aside. "Someone always has to start something." Having taken care of his share of the problem, he sat back down in his chair and picked up the tankard. Will disarmed one of the boys and gave him a good poke with his own sword.

"You need a new blade." He told the kid, tossing him back his blade. The boy let it clatter to the ground, taking off through the tavern crowd instead.

Jack still had his sword sheathed, staring at Joseph. "Going to make a move or not?" He asked, opening his arms wide. Joseph stared at him a moment before letting out a squeaky battle cry and lunging for Jack, the point of his cutlass aimed right for the pirate's stomach. Jack turned swiftly to the side, letting the blade pass and grabbing the boy's wrist. In one quick movement he plucked the blade away and held it to Joseph's neck, smiling.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you it wasn't a good idea to play with pirates?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. Joseph squeezed his eyes shut as the blade hovered closer to his neck. "I'm not going to kill you. I will do so, however, the next time I see you. Then it will be your own fault because you were too stupid to know what a warning was." He tossed the blade back to the boy and turned his back. Joseph grabbed the blade, for a moment fighting temptation to attack Jack again. Intelligence won over stupidity, and he took off for the doorway.

Jack slid back in his seat, picking up his tankard again and shaking his head. "Bloody children." He muttered. Ana made a sound of agreement beside him, taking to her own tankard.

Will stared at the boy's retreating back, thoughts whirling in his mind. That could've easily been him if it hadn't been the Navy ship that had picked him up. He would've been dead long ago, never would've met Elizabeth, and never would've had Emma. For a moment he wondered if that would've been better.

No. No it wouldn't have. The moments he'd had as father and husband had been fleeting, but they were happy memories he still could think back to. Maybe he could no longer go back to that life, but he still had pictures to keep him going.

As long as he kept going, there was always a chance he could go back to her.