Disclaimer: This is the second time I'm posting this story, since it got removed from the site for reasons known to me...anyways, since I have a hunch that it MIGHT have been the "chat/script" format of my past disclaimers, I'm going to have to do away with all the fun disclaimer and be boring. I have to conform and say that I own nothing related to Pirates of The Caribbean and in fact the only things I do own fiction-wise are the characters that I come up with. bows

Summary: Christina and Will are now engaged. Yay!!! So then they get married and have kids and live happily ever after, right?…Not quite.

A/N: My softball team LOST today! It's the play offs, and this is when we decide to suck. The irony of it all strikes me dumb, every time. I have no idea what storms at sea look like, except from seeing The Perfect Storm and White Squall, both of which made me cry and both of which I've seen a LONG time ago. So, I'm gonna go on what I remember, and whatever my imagination decides…besides, I have a free reign here; after all, I'm writing in the genre where in the prequel, men's skin melted into rotting flesh and bone under the influence of the moon…

à I almost wanted to call this "The Chapter of the Dashes" because if you notice, there are quite a few "-"'s in it…really! More than usual, I think. But I decided that the joke might be lost on, well, everyone who's not quite as insane as I am.

Will and Mr. Gibbs were stumbling drunkenly out of one of Port Royal's only pubs, not having left Port Royal itself yet. Mr. Gibbs was all for heading over to Tortuga at the very instant, but Will was rather intent on going back to the blacksmith shop.

"Jus' have ta' get somethin', Gibbs," Will said with difficulty, leaning on his partner-in-crime. Gibbs rolled his eyes, and led Will over to the shop. Gibbs would tell me later that it would be hard to tell who was having more difficulty walking. "Turner's no pixie, lass. Though, I'm fair certain yeh'd know that by now," he would add suggestively. The perverse minds of pirates would never cease to amaze me, of that I was sure.

Will stumbled into the smithy and rooted around on the desk where I'd left the piece of parchment and the pearls Jack had given me. He wrapped something tenderly in a cloth and slipped it into his pocket. He also picked up the parchment I'd given him and put it in his pocket as well. Since he was aiming to sail out and find me, it must have slipped his mind that it was entirely unlikely for the parchment to stay legible on his journey out.

"All right, let's go," he said, stumbling out the door. Gibbs rolled his eyes and picked up a few choice swords that were hanging around the shop, quickly selecting which one he thought would be the best for Will and mumbling about dingbats.

"Never again will I let ye have even a sip of rum," he muttered, following Will out the door and into the calm of the night.

I awoke in the belly of the Pearl with thunder clapping obnoxiously in my ear. I lifted my face off the floor and realized that I had not been unconscious for an incredibly long time, because the candle was still lit and swinging around, miraculously. In fact, the only way it was faded was because I had gradually stepped out of tune with the world. I swore violently when it slowly dawned on me the events the took place before I decided to greet the hard wood of the Pearl head on.

"Mary!" I muttered, picking myself up and making my way cautiously about the ship. The world was lopsided and shaky - well, of course it was, I was on a ship! I shook my head, which turned out to be a mistake because I got a splitting headache, or came to notice the splitting head ache that was already…splitting my head...

I made my way as quickly as I could up the stairs to the deck to see the crew running about in every direction, trying to bring the sails in. "Jack!" I shouted. Jack was one among the crew now, and it was hard to find him because he had thrown himself into work as much as any of them. In fact, I would later come to realize how they worked as one, Jack didn't even need to keep shouting directions. In the midst of what was surely a disaster, they seemed to have an uncanny telepathic ability to know where each and every one was supposed to go. It was a bit of order among the chaos.

Of course, those were not my thoughts at the very moment. No, my thoughts were more along the lines of "God's eyebrows, where's Mary?!" Because, if you'll remember, it was entirely my fault that she was here in the first place - if anything happened to her…

"JACK!" I screamed again, and this time he heard me because the world had suddenly gone still. I looked around warily, wondering what all the calm was about. He made is way over, not nearly as graceful on the deck of the Pearl because it was slippery with salt water. "Christina, ye'd best be getting below," he said, grabbing my arm roughly. I wrenched my arm away.

"Where's Mary?!" I shrieked. He looked shocked. "She's not with ye?" he asked. The sailors were eerily quiet, looking around nervously. "Captain," Anamaria said nervously, almost as a warning. I was overcome with foreboding.

"She ran up here…Jack, didn't you see her?" I demanded. Jack's face, which I could see illuminated in the moonlight - the clouds had parted for a moment - was white. "No, luv…I didn't see yer friend," he said hoarsely.

"Sparrow!" Anamaria snapped, a note of panic in her voice. Jack grabbed me and forced me down, making the phrase 'hit the deck' literal. I peeked out under his arm and saw a fork of lightning hit the sea in the distance, and watched as the ocean leapt up to join the dark sky, painting it white; staining it with spectral blood. It was still strangely silent, except for the buzz of the vertical ocean in the distance, which was slowly and steadily coming closer.

"Dear God, the world is ending," I whispered.

(1) A/N

Commodore Norrington was not in a good mood. Young Turner had left Port Royal after promising that he'd stay one more night, so that Norrington could get together a crew. The Commodore wanted to go after the girl, as foolish as the eldest Swann was to run off. There was no doubt in his mind that she'd joined Sparrow, so by going after her he'd be doing several good deeds at once.

One, he would be further proving himself a good and noble man by going after Christina Swann - even when he had no emotional attachment to the chit whatsoever in fact, what he felt for her was close to loathing. True, she was amusing. She was also a respectable swordswoman. But she was infuriating, and had been given entirely too free a reign. If he had been forced to see to such a woman, he would have whipped the crass attitude right out of her…women are to be seen and not heard; to inspire art, but rarely to create it. Were those not the golden rules? Elizabeth Swann was a far better example of a woman. And yet, occasionally it was a bit uplifting to be around such a free spirit as her sister. Improper, yes - she would be better suited in a brothel, surely - Heaven save him if the Governor heard such a thing - but to be able to hear what a woman truly thought was rare indeed. Such traits must run in the family, the Commodore thought to himself, after all, look at who the mother was, running off with pirates. Elizabeth surely was the lucky one, and always had been treated as such, it was not a little known fact.

The second good deed that would have come along with being the first man out to search for Christina was that since she was with Sparrow, Norrington would have a chance - nearly a guarantee - of catching the villain. And as invigorating as it was to finally have a true nemesis out on the seas, it would be better if Sparrow was caught. The last threat real threat to the Caribbean, indeed - think of the fame that would come to the man who caught Sparrow!

But Norrington was a noble man, or liked to think of himself that way. And he would not lie to himself. Perhaps the most alluring attribute of this new adventure was not in the way Elizabeth would appreciate him if he saved her sister - for Commodore Norrington was no fool, he knew that Elizabeth truly felt awful about what had transpired. Hell, she had been crying in her room for hours, Governor Swann had told him so! Alas, Elizabeth was someone that the Commodore would rather not think of. Not after he had so willingly surrendered her, just to have the man he had surrendered to balk and chose another - an affront to his dignity, that was. But no. Commodore Norrington was intrigued with another woman. A woman with fiery red hair and rose petal skin, who had pretended to be something she was not: a fine lady of Port Royal; when indeed she was but a maid. And even though Norrington had acted as befitted a man of his station - shunning the woman who had played him for a fool - he felt that he couldn't stop thinking of her. There was something about Mary Pearl (was that even her real name?) that would not stop nagging at his mind.

Was it the way she had opened up to him, indeed like the living shell that lived to reveal her surname? The way that he fought, gently and steadfastly in the few times that he'd spoken with her, to get past her shy monosyllabic sentences and reveal the woman she was? Was it the way she blushed so fetchingly when he'd asked her if it would be too presumptuous of him to call her Mary - just Mary? The way she always seemed so nervous around him - well, now he knew why.

And yet, he wasn't really upset about the fact that she was a maid. It certainly did complicate things, but he would admit, grudgingly, that he had taken his obligation to act in a way befitting his station rather far. Commodore Norrington had never meant to make her run away. In fact, he wasn't upset about the fact that she was something less than what she had shown him. He was upset, he realized, because it been made clear to him that the only way he'd find a woman who was good and sweet and kind, a woman who could make him forget for the moment the beauty and perfection, the propriety and grace of Elizabeth Swann could only make him forget that if she was in the guise of a noble woman. Commodore Norrington was upset because he'd lost sight of people, only noticing them for their expensive jewelry or ridiculous wigs.

Norrington sighed. He remembered that it wasn't quite so long ago that he was a nothing more than a sailor living in London, sailing for the Crown, a man who lived very similarly to Jack Sparrow. He was loath to admit this, even to himself, and certainly would not utter such a thing to another living soul, but it was true. There was a time when Commodore Norrington had lived for the joy that was the sea, the haven that was a strong ship, her mast, her cloud white sails, the desperation in a storm at sea, the untainted stillness of a windless day. There was a time, now it seemed lost, when Norrington had taken refuge in the righteous enlightenment that was capturing a rogue and forcing him and his crew to face justice. A good dozen rogues and villains later, and what was the result? A bitter, tired man.

Commodore Norrington had achieved what he had once foolishly wished for. He had been named a Commodore, he was a highly respected man in a well-to-do respectable town, good friends with the Governor. He lived in a large house, attended fancy dinners and quiet tea ceremonies with important people. But to what extent? He had become a bitter man, no longer taking the same joy he once did in the sea. There had been very little joy in the rescue mission for Elizabeth - he was sailing to regain a ship, was he not? The Interceptor? Another dashing young man had gone off to save Elizabeth - a harsh reminder of the man Norrington had once been, courageous to the point of rashness, acting merely out of what seemed right and not what was practical. It was why he was so willing to surrender Elizabeth to young Turner, yes? Because if he couldn't be the man he used to be, at least she could have someone who was…perhaps time would have been kinder to Mr. Turner.

Commodore Norrington was not old, not really, but he felt so. He had not yet reached thirty, though he would within a year. The thought made him quail. Thirty years upon this earth, and yet it had been the better part of a decade that he'd spent as a bitter, somber man. He could barely recall what it felt to hear the lull of the sea against the side of a ship and feel bliss in its playful splashing. Suddenly, Norrington was very jealous of Jack Sparrow, something else that he would never dwell on long enough to admit to himself or anyone else.

Thirty years…and what did he have? He had courted a woman for the better part of five years, and wondered fleetingly if Elizabeth had indeed been his downfall, if her steady and unchanging refusal had been what finally wore down his soul. Perhaps not, because he remembered how lucky he had felt when Governor Swann kept agreeing to let him call on her…it was enough to ignore the fact that Elizabeth rarely smiled in his presence, and when she did it never reached her eyes. Not once in five years had he seen her smile.

Thirty years, and he was a lonely man. A man with no family, no wife, no children. A man who sought to save the Governor's eldest not for her sake, because she had not really been captured, had she? No, he sought to rescue her to further his own celebrity. He planned to set out for her not to save her from a cruel fate of living among pirates - that was what she had opted for, wasn't it? - but to heighten his own esteem. Commodore Norrington had not felt like a noble man in a long time, only just realizing it now. He was a bitter, lonely man; a man who had turned away the most recent delight allotted to him. The fiery, flame-haired woman had thought that he hated her (he was at fault, he made her believe this to be true, did he not?) and so she had run off with a pirate. Ironic, it seemed to him, how often such a thing happened here at the most respectable Port Royal.

The wind picked up, louder and more terrible than before and yet around me I heard nothing. I stared fixedly at the white wall of terror before me, never having seen anything quite so incredible. Nothing had brought me to absolute stillness before this, nothing. Nothing had ever invoked so deep a fear.

"Brace yerself, love," Jack said, and the crew all sat huddled as the wall that was the ocean gained closer, agonizingly slow. I tore my eyes away and saw a figure, a figure with long hair in a tight bun and running in a sopping dress as she screamed and tumbled over the side of the Pearl.

"Mary!" I shouted, elbowing Jack roughly so he would let go of me. My legs had taken on a life of their own, and I didn't know what I was doing, only that I was following my best friend. "MARY!" I screamed, hurling myself over the side of the ship after her - Mary didn't know how to swim, not well enough to keep from drowning - and diving into the salty cold water.

The ocean hit me in the face hard, and I opened my eyes, ignoring the sting. I hadn't been a good swimmer under the best of circumstances, but diving into an ocean in the midst of a storm was like diving into another world. The Pearl, which when under Jack's guidance, always seemed like a friendly place, was now a hovering black mass above me. I nearly fainted, but took a breath, treading water, and looked for a subdued splashing that would make itself known from the roil of the rest of the waves. A least I couldn't see the wall that was approaching. I swam to the spot where I'd heard Mary fall.

Amazingly, she had been splashing around enough to keep herself somewhat above water, and I grabbed onto her, holding her head above. Her eyes were closed, and in this moment I was more certain that I would die than any other time I could recall. Now death was more certain than when I'd been marooned, more certain than when I'd dueled with the pirates and been slashed in the ribs, left bleeding in cold puddles. And now was more horrible, because not only would I die, but I'd dragged my best friend into it as well.

I tasted salt on my lips, and laughed madly. It couldn't be from tears, but I would never know, I would drown in the salt water of the same material. "Forgive me, Mary," I whispered.

"CHRISTINA!" I heard Jack yell, but I had floated on my back, holding Mary's head above still, I would not let my best friend sink to the bottom of the sea without me. The white ocean would be upon us soon, I only hoped that Jack got out alive.

"Tell Will I'm so sorry," I murmured, and suddenly terror shoved out the acceptance of death. I did not want to die, and I at least owed it to Mary to fight. "JACK!" I screamed, praying beyond anything I'd ever prayed for before that he'd hear me.

I saw a wood plank from flying out of nowhere, attached to it was a rope. Unfortunately, Jack's little ploy to save me would not go smoothly - how could it, when I had the worst luck in the world? It hit me square in the head, not with much force but enough to make me see stars…then again, I was looking up. I went under and came up moments later, sputtering, my grip on Mary tighter than ever.

"JACK!" I screamed again and again until my voice was hoarse. Moments later, I was nearly drowned by a large figure diving on top of me. His attempts at rescue were horribly off-color. I was pulled up roughly, and so was Mary, now so pale she seemed blue. I looked around blearily, and saw Jack with one arm around my waist and one clinging to the plank that had nearly rendered me unconscious again.

"Can't catch to save yer life, eh, love?" he asked, looking furious with me. "PULL!" I shrieked, and held onto Mary with one arm and both legs, the other arm clinging to Jack as we were raised out of the water and against the side of the ship.

It took about ten members of the crew to hurl us aboard, seeing as how we were blown here and there by the wind. By now, the wall of sea foam was less than a fifty yards away. "EVERYONE BELOW!" Jack roared, heaving me towards Anamaria as he carried Mary. The crew rushed forward, and for sailors who had been at sea for years, not a one looked the least bit calm.

Jack laid Mary down on the bunk I shared with her, and I sat with him, holding tightly to anything I could find that was bolted onto the ship. Mary lay still, pale and small. Please be alive, please, I begged, unaware of the silent tears that poured down my face.

It felt as if someone had royally brassed off Poseidon, most likely us seeing as how we were tossed about. At one point I was convinced that the ship was laying on its side, but the Pearl was not one to lay down and take being slaughtered. She put up a fight, and I heard Jack hover between cursing and apologizing to his ship.

It went on for a surprisingly short time, as the ocean ripped through us. We were raised up, my stomach lurched and I was certain that we were flying through the air; we were sucked down until I knew we had touched the very bottom of the sea. I was amazed that I hadn't lost every meal I'd had since birth. Mary did not move through any of this. At one point I was sure my heart had stopped beating, that time itself had frozen, that the world had indeed ended, and I grabbed Jack's hand. He didn't look at me, he was muttering to himself again, and it seemed as if he was praying. This struck me as an odd type of reassurance, to see Jack pray. Jack Sparrow, the pirate, praying for deliverance from the very ocean that was his freedom. I squeezed his hand, knowing that even if we did not make it out of this, I would have died surrounded by good people.

The candle had long since gone out in the cabins, but it was just as well. We slowly came to a stop, the insane dance of the ship slowing to a rocking that I could handle. It was as if the whole crew had let out a sigh, and I let go of Jack quickly, embarrassed. What would this pirate, this brave captain, think of me…I, who had so foolishly thrown herself overboard to join her best friend, both Mary and I had no hope of survival, had it not been for Jack.

I fell back against the bunk and closed my eyes, never having felt so tired in my life. I took a breath, and fell back into a darkness which had become so familiar in this one night.

When I woke, the crew was still in the cabins, though most of them were awake. I sat up quickly, banging my head for the third time against the top bunk. I swore, and then was embarrassed for having broken the silence. A few crew members chuckled, most still looked as terrified as I felt last night. It was hard to think about the storm, it seemed so unreal. I wouldn't have believe it to have happened, if I hadn't still been wet from the sea, and if Mary hadn't still been pale and still beside me.

"We grew to comfortable with the sea, mates, and were reminded of that last night. The Pearl held up strong, though. Any casualties?" Jack asked gruffly, looking a bit worse for wear, not as drunk as he normally seemed. Anamaria nodded, "Just one, Captain. Cotton's parrot…he's nowhere to be found," she said. I sighed, watching Mr. Cotton as he sat dejectedly in the corner of the cabins. He said nothing…well, obviously. I was relieved, however, that there had not been any human casualties.

Jack sighed as well. "Truly sorry for yer loss, Cotton," he said softly. Mr. Cotton nodded. I put a hand to Mary's forehead, she was burning up. "Jack!" I cried. He turned around and sat on the bunk. "She's burning up…good," Jack said, pleased. I glowered, "What do you mean, good?" I demanded. He glared right back at me. "It means she's alive, Princess, and ye'd do best to remember that Jack's the Captain," Anamaria said coldly. I looked at Jack, surprised, but he said nothing and went up. The rest of the crew followed, not a one stopping to look at me.

I spent the rest of the day in the cabins, removing Mary's dress and leaving her in her shift. I covered her with all the blankets I could find and made her drink dippers full of the fresh water, forgoing the ale and rum. There was a good deal more fresh water, ever since the storm. Rain water. I swore that I would not leave her side until she woke up, and sponged her forehead and neck lightly with cool water.

"Mary, I am so sorry," I whispered, sniffing. I didn't cry, but it would have been better if I did. It would have been a bit of a relief. Mary's eyes fluttered, but remained closed, and she took a deeper breath but still didn't wake. "Please wake up," I said, sitting her up so she could take another sip of water.

"Captain wants you, Princess," Anamaria said, leaning against a bunk and looking harshly at me. I looked up, "But, Mary's -"

"Captain calls on ye, and yer to go," Anamaria snapped. She was angry with me, very angry, and I hadn't had the slightly clue as to why.

"No," I said stoutly. Anamaria walked up to me and pulled me to my feet. I glared at her and wrenched my arm out of her grip. "Are ye being mutinous, Christina?" she spat. I opened my mouth, and then bowed my head. "No," I said softly, casting a worried look at Mary before turning to the head to the deck.

"I'll watch her," Anamaria said quietly, and I nodded, leaving to see the Captain.

"He's in the crows nest," one of the crew members said to me, pointing. As if I didn't know where it bloody was. I nodded again, biting my tongue, and climbed up. I paused in the middle, looking at the sails. The main one had a large rip in it. "Oh, wonderful," I muttered darkly, climbing the rest of the way up.

Jack was standing with his back to me, leaning on the rim of the nest. "You wanted to see me, Captain?" I asked hesitantly, remembering what Anamaria had said. It seemed to strange to call him Captain, he was just Jack to me. It wasn't like I was an important enough member of the crew that I had to call him captain…I wasn't even the slightest threat of mutiny, regardless of what Anamaria had said.

"Brave thing ye did, Christina," he said. "Stupid, but brave."

I felt my eyebrows knit together in confusion. "Forgine me, Captain, but what are you talking about?" I was so disoriented after the storm last night, that I hardly knew where I was anymore, let alone what brave things I'd done. If you ask me, I'd been nothing but a coward all last night.

"Takes a loyal friend to jump off the safety of a ship and into the sea," Jack said. I grinned, "I hope you don't take offence in this, Captain, but last night the Pearl hardly seemed safe," I said. He chuckled. "Aye…took a lot, she did…ye saw the main sail? Hole the size of ruddy Norrington's ego in it, there is," he said. I nodded, not realizing that he couldn't see me with his back turned. Like I said, disoriented.

"So, Captain, what did you want me here for?" I asked again.

"Stop with the bloody Captain, fer one." Jack said as he turned around, looking just as surprised as I was. Jack usually insists that everyone call him Captain. He shrugged. "I wanted to tell ye…what ye did last night, jumpin' in the water to save yer friend -"

"I didn't really save her, Jack," I said.

"It was somethin' ol' Bootstrap woulda' done," Jack continued, silencing me sufficiently. I swallowed. "Was it?" I asked faintly. He nodded, offering a glinted grin. The sun was out high in the sky, almost unbearably bright, and it struck me as odd how last night was the complete opposite of today.

I looked away, trying to put into words what I was thinking. "Dear William doesn't seem quite so important now, does he?" Jack asked. I looked up, wringing my hands. "No, that's not it…its just…Jack, I could have died last night," I said, trembling. He nodded again, sagely. "Puts things in perspective," he said. I tilted my head up, closing my eyes. It was so warm.

"Not only that, but because of me, Mary could have died…it makes me feel like maybe there are more important things than…"

"Love?" he asked. I shook my head. "No, I wouldn't have dived in after Mary if I hadn't felt she was more of a sister to me than, well, anyone. Not love…pride, maybe."

"He took an awful slight to yer dignity, luv, I understand."

I smiled. "Hmm," I said. The topic of Will and myself was not one that I particularly cared to speak about.

"Ye know, he's probably going to come lookin' for ye. Seems the type…always gotta be the hero. Bloody wanker, if ye were to ask me. Makes an terrible prat of himself."

I laughed. "Let him come," I said, feeling more confident than I had in days. Right now, I was more worried about Mary than Will. In fact all I felt for him were the stirrings of indignation, not the paralyzing sadness that I'd felt upon leaving Port Royal.

"May I leave?" I asked Jack. He nodded, rolling his eyes at me, his old swagger returning a bit. He was staring at the torn sail, calculating, but I distinctly heard him mutter "Always so arrogant, right after death nearly takes ye,"

I didn't spend any time pondering this.

(1) A/N I'm going to try something different this time. Since Christina is not particularly close to Commodore Norrington, she's going to have no idea what he's up to…and she probably never will. Therefore, whatever goes on with the Commodore is going to be told in the third person - it'll just make it a lot less confusing for me…could somebody please remind me why I was stupid enough to embark on this story in the first person in the first place? It makes this awfully hard to maneuver. Anyway, when she talks about Will and what he's doing, notice how she always says (or at least, always intends to say - whether or not I type the phrase is a coin toss) "Later I would learn," or what not. Therefore, eventually, she finds out everything that went on. Whether or not the outcome is good remains to be seen - then again, perhaps if I wanted to be mysterious, I would have given this fic a different title…::grin::]

A/N: I love what I wrote about Norrington, and I hate how I described the storm…this story has a mind of its own, I swear, because I have a plan but it just keeps changing and transforming and all these new ideas just suddenly come up and bite me…I think I may be a bit comma-happy, too. I hope you liked this chapter, but I'm very torn over it. Christina's a bit annoying in this one, isn't she? More than usual, I mean. There's going to be a bit of Elizabethan POV in the next chapter (if I can pull it off), I'm trying to make my characters more well-rounded - Christina can't be the saintly good-girl White Knight all the time, can she? Because that gets a bit boring…

RR, please!

-Crystyna

P.S. I wrote this the same day as I updated chapter 15...the WHOLE thing. But I'm not updating 'til laaaay-terrrr….::wicked grin::