Hi!

A lot of people (well ok, a couple) have asked about updates or continuations from my group of one-shots. Well... here it is. Officially I suppose this carries on from the five, but it isn't amazingly necessary to read those first. Also, this story will only draw on elements from some of the one-shots; namely 'Parallels', 'Betrayal' and 'Spiders'. I'm afraid I don't see much of an input from Captain Jack or Norrington in this particular story... Sorry guys! But you never know. It may happen... :-s.

That said... enjoy!

Voices in the Water

They slept in Tia Dalma's village that night. At least, most of them slept.

Elizabeth lay awake and listened to the water sucking at the stilts of their hut. She listened to the snores of the men. She counted the rhythms, the tones and variations. Like voices in the night. After a while she realised there was one missing.

She sat up on the simple bunk, and looked around. Several bodies lay, breathing and snoring with varying degrees of volume. How did they sleep? Was there magic in the drinks the witch woman had given them? Sleeping draught?

But if so, why did her dreams haunt her? Why did she sit restless and unable to sleep or think, while they slumbered so enviously? She curled up, hugging herself. She felt dirty, and evil. She felt like a pirate.

Had he not called her one himself? But so were they, his loyal crew, and yet they slept. Were they not chained up with sorrow, did guilt not grip in chains round their heads, like a crown of burning metal? She stared out into the gloom.

Her breath caught when she saw another figure, also sitting upright. Watching her. Its eyes were discernible, not because of a dim light, or their shining reflection of a convenient moonbeam. She saw them because they were darker than anything else in the room.

"Will?"

It came out as a whisper. He didn't reply, didn't acknowledge he'd even heard her. His only action was to stand and leave the shack for the thin veranda outside.

The air was cool and it cut into her fragile bubble of existence. It was more real than her whole day so far. Here in this ethereal twilight, things were certain. He had his back to her. She hugged herself tighter. Despite the cooler evening, the only chill she was fighting off was the one coming from inside.

"Will?"

Still he ignored her.

"Will, I… I don't love him, Will."

Any other man would have spun to face her, his eyes angry and his mouth twisted with fury. Will did nothing, except grip the bamboo rail tighter as he stared out over the waters.

"That has become blindingly apparent."

Elizabeth had been preparing her speech. How she would dismiss any feelings at all as an infatuation, how her heart belonged only to Will… it died in her mouth, slunk back and clogged her throat.

"What?"

"You chained him to his sinking ship, a ship about to be eaten by the Kraken."

His voice was so level it terrified her more than outright anger. Anger she could fight back against, rally against. She could be aggressive against anger, or plead like a weak little girl. Level calm left her no option but to face fire with fire. But she could not be calm. She trembled and shook.

"Will! I had to… We had to escape!"

"Yes. Well done, Elizabeth. You are a master of self preservation."

Only now did he turn to look at her, and he was not angry. He was saddened and disgusted.

"What have you saved? We are bound to search him out! And you cannot sleep for the evil deeds you have done!"

The tears beaded and fell, silent but constant. His gaze softened, if only a little.

"And do you know what else, Elizabeth?"

She shook her head, tears flying, and noted with alarm the shininess in his eyes; tears waiting to fall. He smiled. A sad, lonely, bereft smile.

"You are a liar, sweetest Elizabeth."

"No!"

She reached out for him, but he caught her hands, squeezing them gently, his smile unfaltering, tears still unshed.

"Yes. You are a liar. You are not, have never been and never will be blindingly apparent. You love him."

Her eyes widened. He felt her hands go slack in his. Her mouth opened and shut, and he watched her try, but fail, to speak out. The tears fell thicker, faster and she weakened, sagging with the relief of someone knowing what she could not believe. He dropped slowly to his knees with her, still holding her outstretched hands.

"Tia Dalma told me about the compass."

Her head, which had drooped so she gazed at the swirling water, flicked back to Will's face.

"She…"

"She told me, yes. Where did it point, when you held it?"

She stared at him. This conversation… it was wrong. Why did he not berate her? Why did he not beg her to reconsider? Her mouth was dry but her throat was thick and damp with the crying.

"It… it pointed to the chest."

Will did nothing. Just watched her.

"…At first." She paused guiltily to look at him. "Jack said that, more than anything, I should want a way to save you…" A shadow passed quickly across Will's face, but it left in seconds.

"… But then… Then…"

She couldn't finish. It was too ridiculous a story. And he knew it all too well anyway. She sat up straighter, tried to pull herself together. She had weakened and fallen, but now she knew she was stronger. She had somehow let the infatuation escape.

"I don't love him, Will."

He stood, but let go of her hands, and did not help her up with him. She watched, slightly bewildered. His unshed tears had gone, and now he was as dark as the inside of the hut. His smile had vanished.

"We both know that's a lie. But you want him, whether you love him or not."

He walked slowly away, back into the hut. As he reached the door opening, Elizabeth turned and called out his name. He stopped, and looked back at her.

"Why did you want to know which way the compass pointed?"

Indeed, why would he? It bewildered her. Has he not suffered at her hands enough? Is he a glutton for emotional punishment? His smile returned slightly, and if she let her fancy fly, the unshed tears return to his eyes.

"I didn't. But I needed to know how you felt. I needed to know what you deny, and seem ignorant of."

Her eyes questioned him.

"The truth, sweetest Elizabeth. Only the truth."

He went back inside, swallowed into the gloom. Elizabeth turned back to the water, only a little better for the truth, as he called it, being outside of her at last. The last few days had shaken her beyond her limits. She roamed among the dragons and monsters on the un-chartered edges of the map. She didn't know her own mind anymore.

She didn't even know what was 'the right thing'.