A/N: A pretty long one - and hopefully an exciting one - just to make up for any potential patchiness while I tackle my living situation in the coming months. I posted a very long note in case I didn't get this chapter done in time (that you guys were all amazingly sweet about, which made a difficult day a little bit easier) that I've since deleted, but to cut a very long story short for those who won't be able to see the full explanation in the future — updates are going to be a bit inconsistent in the next few months because my living situation blew up and I'm going to be couch surfing while I find a new place to live long-term. Who knows, maybe a nomadic existence will provide some writing inspiration!

Absolutely not abandoning this story, I'm tentatively hoping I'll still have a good amount of writing time amid dealing with it all, but I won't know 'til I'm actually living it and finding a way to make it all work. Thank you for being so understanding!

They staggered onto the beach, one by one, clothes waterlogged and faces grim. Theo was first, then Elizabeth, and then Jack. Barbossa, ever the chivalrous, had decided that it was a ladies first policy when it came to walking the plank, prompting her to volunteer to go before Elizabeth. She couldn't pretend that choice was entirely altruistic. Yes, she'd hoped to show Elizabeth that all was well, but Elizabeth was one of the last people she knew in need of coddling anyway.

Mostly she'd just wanted to get it over with - and there had been some small part of her that hoped it might act as yet another gesture to Jack that she could indeed be trusted. Admittedly, that particular tactic seemed to grow less and less effective with each passing one, but considering how quickly he'd forgiven Will for clouting him across the skull with an oar, she expected he'd soon get over it if he hadn't already.

"That's the second time I've had to watch that man sail away with my ship," Jack commented breathlessly as he turned to face the horizon.

"It'll be the last," Theo muttered.

In her peripherals, she saw Elizabeth's head whip around in response to her comment, but Theo didn't turn to look at her, instead sinking to her knees in the ankle-deep water so she could start cleaning the bite wound on her hand with salt water.

It stung, but it was better than whatever terrible diseases that prick had lurking between his teeth. Divested of most of her belongings, she kneeled in the water with little more than what she'd been able to borrow from James' wardrobe - thankfully, though, with the addition of her good boots and her necklace. Jack stood in silence for a few moments, simply watching the ship grow smaller and smaller on the horizon, offering no response to her half-hearted assurance. Theo understood, though. If he believed it, it still changed nothing about their present situation, if he didn't believe her it just added insult to injury, and in either event it still wouldn't be of much comfort. Not until he had a drink in him.

At some point or another he seemed to come to the conclusion that there'd be no swimming after the Pearl, and instead turned to walk inland with an apparent sense of purpose. Elizabeth splashed slightly at her side, apparently hesitating between going after him and staying to talk to her.

"Go with him," Theo spoke without turning, still aggravating her wound so as to force saltwater into it "We can talk after."

"Theo," Elizabeth said sharply.

She turned then, even though she remained where she kneeled, facing her friend (who she very much hoped was still her friend) and forcing a tired smile.

"Elizabeth, everything's fine. Explanations are needed, but they can wait. Jack needs to be minded a little bit more than I do at the moment."

Although there would probably be those who might doubt that point, given her disappearing act from Port Royal and her affinity for getting herself banged up.

"And there is an explanation?" Elizabeth pressed.

"There is," she murmured "And you'll hear it, I promise."

Or there would be, just as soon as she found out how much Will had told her. Given that she was regarding her with suspicion rather than all-out dismay, it hadn't been the full story. Or if it had, she was taking it exceptionally well. Only when she turned and left in pursuit of Jack did Theo stop aggravating her hand, instead sinking down onto her backside, tilting her head back, and sighing. It had been an exceptionally long day. Tomorrow would be more of the same, too, only it would be worse because she'd have to face James and watch any regard with which he once held her utterly die out. That was going to hurt. It already hurt, and it hadn't happened yet.

She just had no idea what to say - and knew that nothing beyond "help, the bad pirate kidnapped me" would be a good enough explanation for her little adventure. It was also the one cover story she absolutely couldn't offer. There were other excuses, sure. She could insist she went to the trouble of lying to his men to get onto The Interceptor just so she could have somewhere quiet to sit and brood, and hope he didn't already know about her visit to Jack beforehand, but James was an intelligent man - fiercely intelligent. Even if they hadn't formed a bond, trying to fob him off with such a story would be an insult to his intelligence, but because of that bond it would be an insult in general.

So what else was there? The truth was the first thing that came to mind, but she knew that for what it was before she could even consider it. Wishful thinking, through and through. At absolute best, he might think her mentally ill - and in these times, mental illness was seen as some sort of moral failure rather than a sickness. Something that God doled out as a punishment. At worst, he'd hate her for it, and in either scenario she still didn't think he'd believe her. There was nothing in that other than a hope of unburdening herself, and all it could feasibly do in the end was add to her burdens.

What, then, was the happy medium between those two options? At this point, she doubted he'd believe any alibi she dreamed up, but so long as he couldn't disprove it there was nothing he'd be able to do. Other than hate her. The sad truth of that, though, was that it was on the cards either way. At least for now, here, in this movie. He was the epitome of conventional, and there was nothing conventional about her circumstances. If she wanted his approval in the long run, she'd have to be a proper Englishwoman (which was already an impossibility in itself), marry a proper Englishman, have eight babies in the span of six years and die of consumption before she reached her mid-thirties. By which time he'd have lost everything, won it all back, and died - and therefore wouldn't be in much of a position to offer his good opinion anyway. Yeah, she'd rather risk his ire. But that still made the prospect of the next morning no more fun.

She remained where she was, glaring at the horizon, when a bottle of rum dropped into her lap, splashing sea water up into her face.

"You look like you've got the weight of the world on your shoulders," Jack commented from where he stood at her side.

"Just the weight of your future," she replied drily.

Accepting the hand he offered, she stood and took the bottle of rum with her.

"Well, that makes two of us," he replied simply, watching her through narrowed eyes.

"Is it time for that talk, then?" She asked.

Mostly she just wanted to get it over with if she was to be told off. She wasn't entirely familiar with the sort of punishments pirate captains doled out - not beyond lashings. Hopefully Jack didn't intend to fashion a whip from a tree branch any time soon. In response to her question, though, he grunted before taking a swig from his own bottle.

"Way I see it, love, there's going to be plenty of…unfavourable moments lying ahead, and I can hardly accept your terms of not being able to warn me before going back and unaccepting those terms when the terms become troublesome."

He lost her at some point amid the ramble - mostly because he was in joint place with Russell Brand in his ability to spit out a sentence like that without pausing for breath or stumbling over a single word. But she got the impression that he was absolving her of any potential sins, so she nodded slowly. That earned her a smile in approval.

"That being said, despite my prowess in many areas, 'm only human, love. There are going to be times when me temper flares."

"If that was the worst of your temper back there, I think I'll be able to manage."

"Good," he grinned, clinking his bottle against hers "Then we're all friends again. And being friends, may I be so bold as to make a request?"

Oh lord.

"A warning would be nice. No details, no details," he raised his free hand in placation against an argument she had not yet actually made "But just an…oh, I don't know, 'ello Captain, today's going to be especially beastly."

"Wouldn't that ruin the fun?"

"Not much can ruin the fun when I'm around, love. Am I to take your good cheer to mean that we won't be marooned for long? Because it looks like your dear ol' keeper has put the rum runners out of business."

"He's not my keeper," she grumbled, uncorking the bottle with her teeth and spitting the cork into the sand "And we'll be gone before the hangover fully wears off."

That earned her a grin that glinted gold in the scorching sun "Well that's cause for a celebration if I ever heard it."

Taking a swig from the bottle, she winced at the taste - and at the lukewarm temperature - but she wasn't drinking it to quench her thirst, and when she turned slightly she spotted Elizabeth hovering a ways back on the beach, eyeing the two of them with suspicion.

"I'll start to gather firewood," she sighed, leaving Jack behind as she walked inland towards the blonde.

She took the rum with her, too.

"Is it true, then?"

Elizabeth was the first to speak as they gathered wood together. Jack had, somewhat surprisingly, opted to leave them alone. It wouldn't last long, she suspected.

"Is what true?"

"Theo," Elizabeth said sharply.

Sighing, she dropped the wood she'd managed to collect so far, turning with the utmost reluctance to face Elizabeth, waiting for her to speak.

"When Will told me that you…that you see things - know things - I didn't believe him. I thought he was confused, or - or mistaken. That it was some sort of trick you were playing on him," she nodded in the direction of Jack "But now I'm not so sure. I…Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"A witch."

Theo huffed a laugh "No."

"So Will was wrong? You were lying to Jack back there on the beach? Because you spoke as though you do know what's going to happen."

"I do. Sort of. What's supposed to happen, not necessarily what's going to," she grimaced "I'm not a witch, but I…I know things. That's all."

"That's all?"

"It's difficult to explain."

"So try!"

"I know things. I…I can see how the future is going to play out, but it's just one version - and I'm not in it. And it's not everything. I don't have control over it, I can't take requests. I don't know what the weather's going to be like next Thursday or what the name of your maid's firstborn will be. It's just complicated."

"Did you know I'd be kidnapped?" Elizabeth asked.

Theo bowed her head.

"I don't believe it," Elizabeth breathed.

"If it didn't have to happen, I would have stopped it - Elizabeth, I swear I would have," she pleaded "I only stood back and did nothing because I knew you'd be fine. Trust me, in a few months you'll…you'll understand. You'll see."

"I'll see? Will could die! Does he die?"

"You'll come up with a plan for that, too," she said weakly.

One that Theodora very much dreaded seeing come to fruition, for her own personal and selfish reasons. But she would endure that much in the same way she asked others to endure circumstances that seemed to bring little other than pain for the immediate future - circumstances that she couldn't justify yet other than that she deemed it necessary. She was asking for a whole lot of good faith from people with a hell of a lot on the line, and little in the way of evidence that all would be well other than her good judgement. Good judgement that was difficult to trust when they discovered she'd been lying to them, and had sat back and allowed all of this to happen without so much as a hint offered as to what was on the way.

The more she put herself in the shoes of others in this mess, the more she wasn't surprised that Jack was the only one mad enough to be happy with such a risk - and even he didn't do it without a fair bit of doubt and grumbling.

Under Elizabeth's distrustful glare, she finally broke.

"Look," she breathed, taking in a deep breath in an effort to pull herself together "I know what I'm asking of you, and I know that it's not fair of me to ask it, but my hands are tied. Everything that I allow to happen has to happen - not only because the things are absolutely shite now end up being for the best in the future, but because if I change anything now, I won't be able to stop the things that are even more awful in the future that bring about no good at all."

Her sentences were running into each other and beginning to sound increasingly ragged because she couldn't pull off the long-winded wordy rambles in the same way that Jack could. Not with the lump forming in her throat and tears threatening to rise to her eyes. She stopped only because of them, knowing if she continued her voice would break and then she'd be really mortified.

A few moments of silence passed between them, and then Elizabeth finally spoke.

"Are we going to get off this island?"

It was a welcome change in topic, even if only a slight one, and it gave Theo a moment to pull herself together.

"We are," she glanced back at Jack to make sure he was out of earshot "Thanks to what you have planned."

Elizabeth's eyes widened. It seemed there was a difference between knowing and believing, and she'd gone from the former to the latter very quickly.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said finally.

"You do. I won't tell him, either, don't worry. I can even help you keep him distracted."

Elizabeth might've had a qualm or two about spending the night getting shitfaced, but Theo had no such reservations. It was rather a two birds one stone kind of deal - three birds, really, if it meant Elizabeth would stop regarding her like she'd just found out that Theo was secretly Jack's plucky little sidekick.

"You two seemed rather amicable," she pointed out, one eyebrow raising to show her scepticism.

"I'll do what needs to be done. I may have aligned myself with Jack, but I'm not his dog."

Elizabeth glanced over Theo's shoulder in Jack's direction, offering neither argument or agreement in response to Theo's claim.

"What happened to your face?" She asked then.

"The attack on Port Royal," Theo replied simply "It's fine."

Nodding, Elizabeth moved on swiftly, apparently eager to get through her questions as quickly as possible without stopping to chit chat about every single one.

"And that's why you're here? With Jack? To…to change the things that must be changed?"

"Eventually," she said slowly.

"And you can't tell us what they are? Not even me?"

Could she tell them? Not Jack, certainly, and definitely not James. Likely not Will, either. But Elizabeth? While she might not have returned his feelings, she certainly liked James - respected him. Enough to be willing to marry him. She'd be about as eager to see him die as Theo was. But no. It still felt too risky. Risks weren't something she was willing to take with this.

"No. I can't tell anybody. But if I could, I swear to you that you'd agree with me."

It seemed to be the answer Elizabeth expected, even if not one she particularly liked. Her jaw set and she nodded slowly, but the suspicion remained in her eyes.

"And Commodore Norrington doesn't know, does he? Any of this?"

"No," she breathed a laugh, equal parts exasperated and amused that it always came back to that "James doesn't know. He can't know. We both know he'd hate me if he did."

Elizabeth nodded again, her hands folded in front of her.

"I want to trust you," she said finally, and begrudgingly at that "I want to believe you. I'd believe the Theodora I knew back in Port Royal."

"And I'm touched by that, but I get why it's difficult," she replied evenly "I can't really fairly ask for anything else. I'd feel pretty conned if I was in your shoes."

It seemed to be the right answer. She'd hoped so when she'd said it, but that wasn't why she'd said it. What else could she say or do? Drop to her knees and beg Elizabeth to trust her? No, she had every right not to. Finally, Elizabeth sighed and stepped closer, voice lowering.

"And you're sure you can keep Jack distracted? Get him drunk? Unconscious until morning, preferably?"

"If there was ever a task for an Irishwoman, it would be this one," she pointed out, offering a tired smile with her assurance.

And that earned her a small grin in return. If they were not still friends, they were at least not enemies. For that, she was thankful.

Of all of the things Theodora might have argued that life had trained her for - hiking, survival, tests of fitness and endurance - partying with Jack Sparrow would have never made the list. And yet, years of drinking games, underage benders, and general rowdy partying were serving her exceedingly well as the sun began to set.

Throughout the evening, she taught him old anti-British songs she'd heard on the streets growing up (which, as she suspected, he was particularly delighted by) and learned sea shanties in return, and then they moved onto the impressive catalogue of drinking games she possessed…during which she fudged the rules of many to her advantage just so that he might drink more. Although getting Jack Sparrow to drink more could never be described as an uphill battle.

It was putting Theo's tolerance to the test, though. Drinking with pirates wasn't comparable to the sort of drinking she'd been doing in Port Royal, and her tolerance had grown shockingly low thanks to it. Her friends and family back home would've been very disappointed in her. Of course, it probably helped that this rum was very strong (and definitely not up to modern day regulations concerning food and drink), and she'd eaten little other than an apple all day. Then again, there was an old motto her loved ones followed when it came to drinking back home - eating's cheating. One could find themselves being mercilessly mocked for consuming so much as a bread roll on a night of drinking. Rules were rules.

Then there was the fact that she was drinking quite literally for two people. Whenever Jack turned or became particularly belligerent, she'd take a few quick swigs from Elizabeth's bottle just on the off-chance that Jack noticed anything was awry. Of course, she knew from her supposedly supernatural knowledge that he shouldn't, but given the day that she had behind her, along with the one that lay ahead, Theo wasn't going to say no to some extra helpings. She was already considering how she might smuggle one aboard The Dauntless the next day to get her through her reunion with James.

The problem was, and she was stubbornly dubbing it a problem, that she was excited for it just as much as she was worried about it. She'd missed him. Damn him. Despite how stern and how buttoned up and how so very English he was, she'd missed him. Only this wasn't the sort of missing somebody that could be fixed by a reunion, because she had no idea how disastrous the reunion might be. Along with the fact that she'd soon have to watch him swan about in what he considered to be betrothed bliss with Miss Swann, and pretend it made her feel nothing but happiness for him when the prospect alone was enough to dredge up feelings she had no intention of tackling just yet.

But the sad fact of the matter was that it was the very approach she'd taken in response to those feelings ever since they'd begun to blossom, and the more she ignored them, the more she was forced to confront the fact that they would not be ignored forever. It was already becoming increasingly difficult.

So she drank. Then she drank again. Then she drank some more. She drank until her face went numb, and continued drinking until she was convinced she wasn't drunk at all…right up until the point when she tried to stand and had a very hard time keeping her legs under her. By that point, though, Jack was snoring beside their bonfire, and Elizabeth was regarding him with an expression that dwelled somewhere between distaste and determination.

"Try not to set me on fire tomorrow," Theo slurred in the way of a good night, and retreated for a patch of grass so she could follow in the footsteps of her good captain.

The last thing she recalled before she slipped into unconsciousness was wondering why that old pre-bedtime sensation of seasickness had returned, but then she realised it was the whole world that was spinning, and not just the ground beneath her. And then she was snoring.

When they'd spotted the smoke on the horizon, James hadn't quite dared to hope that it might prove fruitful. Or that if it did, it would be good news rather than bad. With the varying types of scum that he knew to sail these waters, fire could mean any number of things. Some small settlement sacked, the wreck of a ship, anything. Oh, the size of the fire suggested something greater at play to be sure, but James had never been one to count his chickens before they had hatched, even as the hope grew brighter and brighter in the Governor's eyes.

But then they were close enough to use a spyglass, and the mood on The Dauntless was nothing short of triumphant when they spotted the figure of Elizabeth Swann, jumping up and down on the beach, waving her arms, and desperately trying to signal them. James had taken a moment to laugh - even one to relax, the dread that had filled him since they'd come across what looked to be the remains of The Interceptor drifting on the tide dissipating just slightly.

He never thought he'd be able to say it, but that relief grew only further when he spotted Sparrow - for he was certain he would spot Turner next, and that Theodora would naturally follow. He'd all but scoured for any sign of a head of vivid red hair jumping and waving alongside Elizabeth. But he spotted nothing. And that was enough to threaten to turn the relief sour.

His heart had all but climbed up into his throat as he joined a handful of his men on the skiff and they rowed out to the island, all of them with their bayonets at hand just in case this should turn out to be an ambush using the Governor's daughter as bait. But Elizabeth offered no warning as they jumped out of the boat, and Sparrow did little other than hang back, appearing entirely unsure as to whether he should celebrate or run.

"Miss Swann," he greeted once he was close enough, relief plain in his voice "Are you well? Are you injured?"

"No," she then quickly shook her head "I mean - yes, I'm well, Commodore, thank you. I'm not hurt."

"Your father is on The Dauntless, he'll be overjoyed to see you," he was already nodding at one of his men as he spoke, who stepped forward ready to escort her to the skiff.

And then his focus was on the pirate. While he didn't exactly look thrilled to see him, he didn't look fearful, either. No, his dread would've been more suited to being spotted by a bore at a dinner party rather than having the law breathing down his neck. Still, he offered a smile as James strode towards him - one that only served to spark James' temper further.

"Ah, Commodore! We meet aga-" his words were cut off as James seized him by the shirt.

"Where is she?" He demanded.

"You were just talking to her mate, your dear ol' King is clearly working you too hard if you've forgotten already."

"Miss Byrne, Sparrow - Theodora Byrne. I know she was aboard The Interceptor when you stole it. Where is she?" He ground out.

Sparrow's brow furrowed at first, apparently taken aback by his fury. And then he did something that James did not like at all, some strange understanding dawning on his features. He smiled.

"I see."

James simply glared at him "I will not ask you again."

"You really need your eyes checked, mate," Sparrow shrugged before nodding vaguely to the left behind himself "She's right over there."

Grip slackening on the pirate's shirt, James followed the direction of the nod and spotted her almost immediately thanks to the mass of fiery red hair that contrasted sharply against the grass she was lying on. Theodora, lying in the shade of the sparse foliage the island boasted, utterly unconscious.

"Good God," he breathed, face going cold as the blood drained from it.

Rushing towards her, he dropped to his knees in the sand and faltered for the slightest of moments before he wrenched his good sense back from the throes of alarm. The cuts on her face had scabbed over and the bruises that had formed with a vengeance since the last time he'd seen her were already fading to a sickly green and yellowish colour. But she'd gained new ones since then - angry dark marks patched across her throat. If that wasn't enough to stoke his fury, what he saw when he reached for her hand certainly was. A handful of small puncture marks in a crescent shape trailing from the base of her thumb to the top of her wrist. Somebody had bitten her. Was there no end to the depravity that these animals would resort to?

To hell with the gallows, James had a mind to run Sparrow through here and now. But he stayed his hand.

"Commodore, is she…?" Groves joined his side, frowning down at Theodora.

James ignored him, shaking her shoulder gently "Theodora?"

She stirred a little, but not much.

"Theodora," he said more firmly, shaking her properly now "Wake up."

"Mmf, piss off," she grumbled, screwing her eyes shut and trying to turn over onto her side - but the hand he kept on her shoulder stopped her.

He only just managed to hold back a laugh - not at her greeting, but at the sheer relief that coursed through him when she spoke with the slightest amount of coherence .

"Theodora," he said more firmly "Wake up. It's-"

Groaning, she shakily rose to her elbows (but only after a few failed efforts), brow furrowed as she fought to open her eyes.

"James?" She rasped.

Now he did smile, albeit entirely without meaning to "Yes - yes, it's…"

He stopped short, suddenly painfully aware of Lieutenant Groves' silent presence by his side. Coughing, he started again, much less softly this time.

"Are you well? Can you stand?"

The groan she gave in response suggested she was less than thrilled at the idea of trying to do so, but then she sighed, still fighting to open her eyes.

"I can try."

All too aware of the audience they had, with Sparrow and Elizabeth already waiting in the skiff, he was somewhat relieved that he wouldn't have to prolong this display by carrying her to it. Pushing herself into a sitting position, she took a moment in which she visibly steeled herself, and then she finally opened one eye. And promptly shut it again with a hiss of pain. But it was open again a moment later, in which she took the hand he offered and they both slowly rose to their feet. One more gracefully than the other. He couldn't quite decide if the way she squeezed his hand as she stood had any meaning to it, or if she was just struggling to find her balance. He couldn't even decide which of the two prospects he wished to be true.

Once they were both on their feet he let go and did a valiant job at pretending even to himself that he did not wish to, watching as she half-heartedly dusted herself off of any sand and grass. As she did so, she looked anywhere but at him, even once she managed to open the other eye.

There was much he wanted to say - much he wanted to ask. Much he feared. Such as what exactly had brought about her newest set of injuries. But this was not the time, and it certainly wasn't the place. So he waited. After all, he'd waited this long, and there was no denying that he could content himself for now that she was alive. Perhaps not unscathed, but safe now. They could remedy the rest accordingly when they returned home.

"You look how I feel, love," Sparrow greeted her cheerfully as she clambered into the skiff with the assistance of the men already aboard.

He spoke brightly, as though he wasn't surrounded by British forces who would like nothing more than to see him hanged.

"You better feel fantastic then, you cheeky bastard," she grumbled in return, hair falling across her face in a curtain as she slumped into the free space beside Elizabeth.

Groves made a sound that he passed off as a cough, lips pursing in a way that James knew to be an attempt at hiding amusement rather than any real disapproval. It was not a sense of amusement that he shared, eyes passing between the two as though staring alone might provide answers to the questions he had concerning the disconcerting ease between the two. Theodora did not look at him - she didn't look at anybody, instead finally burying her face in her hands and focusing on breathing slowly as the waves bounced them up and down. And Sparrow, when James caught his eye, smirked. It didn't cheer him. Not in the slightest.