A/N: Writing out the precise outline of the fight from this chapter as it appears in the movies (so I could then alter it as I had to) has easily been the most flat-out annoying and headache-inducing part of doing this story so far. So much "Jack takes the key, Will gets it from him, James seizes it from Will, and then has it stolen from him by Jack", I wanted to die. Anyway, whining aside, this has been one of the most intimidating chapters of this story to tackle so I hope you enjoy it! Just fair warning, I had to take a bit of a different approach with it, with there being quite a few more POV leaps than I'd usually like, just because of the nature of the part of the canon that this is based on and how chaotic it all is. Future chapters won't suddenly have this many leaps, we were just facing exceptional circumstances.

This chapter is also a bit of a beast because it works best being one whole thing. I've tried to really limit the parts of the movie that are featured here that aren't changed, just because we've all already seen it and can fill in the gaps.

Choking down hardtack while running felt like a feat in itself - but Theo managed it beautifully (if she did say so herself) and she'd never been quite so thrilled by the taste of what basically amounted to rock-like flour. She survived the ordeal with all of her teeth intact, and then turned to the flask. Bracing herself, she expected rum. While she wasn't in the position to be choosy, she knew she wouldn't be able to drink much with how little she had in her stomach; facing the next couple of hours drunk just…well, it wasn't an option. Not least because it would only make her more thirsty. But it met her lips, and she could've stopped to quite literally sing his praises then and there when she realised it was water - lukewarm, but in her current state it was just as refreshing as it would have been iced with lemons in. God, she loved that man.

Taking a few gulps, she forced herself to stop afterwards and tucked it into the pocket of her breeches. There could very easily come a time over the next day or two that she might curse herself if she didn't ration it - and that was if things went well. Her progress into the island wasn't exactly impressive when she slowed to a stop, discarding her coat entirely with a grunt. Gathering her hair into her hands, she lifted it up away from her neck and briefly debated lopping it off with her dagger just so it would stop sticking to her sweat-soaked skin, but abandoned that line of thinking pretty quickly. There were more important matters at hand than being a bit hot, even if that was the one that seemed to take the most out of her at the moment. Her father had once said if somebody could soldier in tropical climates, they could soldier anywhere. She wondered if that would have helped James win his approval in another life. Then she abandoned that line of thinking, too.

The heat could not be helped, but the water and the food did help - enough for her to think somewhat clearly, at least. This island was bigger than it appeared from the Dutchman. Venturing too far in could prove more perilous than staying put. James swore up and down that he'd find her, and it spoke to just how much faith she had in him when she believed it without difficulty, but she also knew it would be difficult for him to find her if she took a tumble down a ravine or, or ended up unconscious somewhere with a few broken bones. How the latter would occur, she didn't know exactly, but knowing her luck…

The wisest course of action would be to remain close enough to the action to ensure that finding James would be at least somewhat feasible once the action was done. It just so happened that the wisest course of action was the most dangerous. But she'd gotten this far, and the more she considered it, the more it seemed like a much better choice than what James had instructed - because she refused to think of it as an order…and she'd never been good at doing what she was told. Plus, if she stayed close, she could hopefully fix things if they started to go pear-shaped. She didn't stop to wonder if she was any good at that, though.

The bells began to toll some ways back at the old church. Swearing profusely under her breath, Theo drew her sword and doubled back.

James stepped onto the roof of the ruined church after Turner. While there was no room to take his eyes off of his opponent - especially not when there were two of them - this vantage point afforded a fair view of the island. The terrain was far more vast than it first appeared from the Pearl, and even from the beach thereafter - wilder, too. In the back of his mind, he felt a twinge of panic. Had he been right in sending Theodora into this wilderness? If anybody could survive it, she would - and he would find her once this was done if it was the last thing he did. He just rather hoped that it would not be the last thing he did. It had been foolish of him to think that just because she remained out of sight that she would be out of mind, but he forced his mind back to the only thing that could matter in that moment – the key.

It dangled in Turner's grasp as he tried to fend him back with his sword - and he was a decent enough fighter…for one who was self-taught. But he didn't have James' training, and was grunting with the exertion of keeping up with the blows he rained down upon him. It still infuriated James that he did keep up with him, though. Feinting left and then moving to jab right, James did swipe left after all at the last moment, sending Turner racing to bring his blade up defensively at the last moment. James saw his opening and he took it, diving forward and grabbing the key and stumbling back just in time to defend himself from one of Turner's own blows. Through it all, he kept his teeth gritted and his eyes firmly on his opponent despite the temptation to look down and double-check how reliable his footing was on this dilapidated roof.

Holding the key back and out of reach, he backed up slightly and then instinct told him to check behind him. He kicked at Turner's legs, sending him stumbling and giving him the chance he needed to turn his head. Sparrow had finally caught up to them, his hand faltering as he reached for the key. James frowned at him, eyes narrowing - there seemed to be more to his pause than a mere desire to remain unnoticed. He was…was he hesitating? It passed quickly, though, and James' own confusion proved to be a foolish mistake as the moment of hesitation passed and Sparrow tore the key from his grasp. But he was no match for James and Turner at once, and when they disarmed him his blade went skidding down the roof and into the grass below.

James couldn't even be annoyed by the turn of events - Sparrow was now before him, and he was unarmed. He'd take the key back from his corpse, but he'd very much enjoy what would come beforehand.

"Do excuse me while I kill the man who ruined my life," he said to Will.

"Be my guest," Turner returned.

"Let us examine that claim for a moment, shall we?" Sparrow was utterly unbothered by the two blades pointed at him "I betrayed Dora, I hold my hands up to that one, but she's a big girl and she knew what she was getting into - and now she's back, she's fine, and she's forgiven me, no less."

James sneered at him.

"That aside, I would point out…who was it, that at the very moment you had a notorious pirate safely behind bars, saw fit to free said pirate - not once, but twice? Who was it who knew that your dear little Irish lass was planning to leave Port Royal, and not only failed to breathe a word of it to you, but aided her? Put a sword in her hand and taught her how to use it? Who is it, who would take the heart off of you for the sake of a man who made a deal that he absolutely knew the terms of?"

"Terms that you yourself now try to avoid!" Turner snapped.

Sparrow pushed on, unabated, his eyes not even so much as flickering towards Turner "Who is it that would see you and Dora live your lives destitute and on the run for the sake of that same man?"

James couldn't help but listen. The bastard had a way about him of making men do that. Sparrow seized upon it.

"Me n' Dora are square now, mate. You heard her say so yourself. So killing me wouldn't be for her - I doubt she'd thank you for it. Now me? I only need the heart for as long as it takes to call off Jones' terrible beastie. I'm sure we could work something out. Him? William? He's the one who wants to put a knife through it. Then it's no good to anybody. Something to consider, eh?"

A coalition? Was he truly proposing such a thing? Did he think James might be so dense as to ever trust his word again? But his point about Turner stuck in his head. Turner had known that Theodora planned to leave, he knew that he planned to confess his love to Elizabeth and that she loved him in return. Had Turner acted differently - had he acted like a man sooner, it might have never come to…to all of this. He might've never been implicated in the escape - nor Theodora. They could have sat back as Turner shouldered all of the blame. They could have spent these last few months going about their lives, they could have avoided starting off on the back-foot with Beckett. They could have snuck Governor Swann out from under his nose by now, and be living their lives free of it all.

Perhaps it was the tiredness speaking - the fatigue. Physical, mental, emotional - spiritual fatigue. Perhaps his anger needed an outlet. If so, Sparrow had directed him to a shockingly suitable source.

"You wish to work together? Give me the key, then," James challenged.

He didn't expect him to do so. But he also didn't expect that hesitation to flicker on his face again either. Like he actually considered it. But then Sparrow cracked a smile and James swung his sword. Sparrow's dodge sent him tumbling down the roof. Turner hesitated behind him, and James felt his ire bubbling up within him.

"Unfortunately, Mr Turner…he's right!" he whirled, and then he slashed his sword at the blacksmith.

Theo watched from the cover of the trees as James turned on Will and Jack slid from the roof of the ruins. What had he said to piss off James so badly? While she knew it wouldn't take a whole lot for Jack in particular to get such a reaction from James, she knew that in the other version of events - the fake version of events, she reminded herself - it was a jibe or two about how this had all started when Will "stole" Elizabeth from him. But surely it hadn't been that? No. No, surely not. Jack was an adept at pissing people off and knowing exactly what buttons to push, there were a million different things he could've said to turn the two on each other. She rolled her eyes at herself for her pathetic moment of panic, backing up as she saw the two of them jump onto the old wheel. It gave way with an almighty crack

Staying put just long enough to be certain of which way it was going to roll, Theo turned and began to run in that same direction, but veering off to the left so that she'd, with any luck, steer clear of the action that the wheel was doubtlessly destined to roll right through. Sadly, par her usual course, luck had abandoned her. Whatever argument had broken out atop that roof had stretched on too long, and she'd lingered too much to bear witness to it. Pintel, Ragetti, and Elizabeth were already embroiled in a fight with Jones' crew, sharing two swords between the three of them. Shite.

The second it took Theo to debate whether she should turn heel and run - whether she could even do so - was too long, for Elizabeth noticed her as she turned to toss one of the swords to Pintel so he could fend off Jones' shark-y First Mate. Her eyes widened and then her eyebrows upturned in a silent plea for help, and that attention brought on that of Jones' crew, and then the choice was no longer Theodora's at all.

"Witch!" One of them bellowed.

Her apparent witchcraft didn't seem to make them wary of engaging her. Well. Double shite. Giving a groan that turned into a growl, Theo threw her sword to Elizabeth and then drew her dagger for herself. It was best to stick with what came naturally. Flipping the hilt in her hand so that the blade protruded from the bottom of her grip, she bobbed beneath an axe as it swiped at her, then bobbed away from a flail. Who the fuck chose a flail as a weapon, anyway? What was this? Lord of the Rings? Gritting her teeth, she then kept in close at whoever the fuck came near, cutting at tendons and joints and fingers wherever she could. Soon the air reeked of rotting fish.

They couldn't be killed, but they could be debilitated. She had experience with that brand of monster. As if recognising that, her worn and beaten body gave her a surge of adrenaline - but it left her trembling, and she knew it would be her last. The fact that she'd held out for so long as it was could probably only be thanks to prior training and dumb luck. She just needed that luck to last for a little longer. The wheel rolled by them, punctuated by shouts from the men stuck inside as if to encourage her to hang on - and Theo took the distraction as a chance to cleave the legs from one of the men, sending him tumbling into the ground with a cry.

One of Jones' men saw his chance then - not at her, thank god, but at the chest. Scampering forward, the shell wrapped around his head almost sent him toppling over as he bent to lift it and then began to run. Lopping the hand from one of her attackers, Elizabeth turned and went to give chase, but Theo stopped her. It hadn't been long enough yet - Jack had to get to that stupid bloody chest first.

"Wait!" Theo breathed.

Elizabeth's eyes widened at her as she regarded her like she'd lost her mind, but she was quickly distracted by an incoming blow, ducking under it. Theo had her own two, three, then four to dodge before she could continue, forcing out bursts of sentences between trying to keep her breath and trying to keep her bloody head.

"I've said this to Will, but I'll tell you too, just in case…" in case Will didn't remember, in case he fancied himself too noble to listen, whatever "When it comes down to it, when the kraken…when the kraken won't be fended off, when you get the chance to abandon the ship…lock Jack in his quarters. Do you hear me?"

"I don't even have the key to his-"

"Then barricade him in," Theo snapped "You have to do it, do you understand? If you and Will back him in he can't fight the two of you at once. It doesn't care about anybody else, it comes for the man who bears the black spot. If the Pearl isn't safe, do you think a dinghy would be?"

Elizabeth gaped at her speechlessly "What? I- Theo, we don't even know that it'll-"

She didn't have time for this. Letting go, Theo shook her head and staggered backwards "Remember what I've just told you."

They beat the forefront of the crew back just enough to give them room to turn and run in the direction the errant crewman had taken the chest. Theo narrowed her eyes when she spotted it, black and foreboding amongst the plush forest floor. The key was in it. Perfect. The moment she was certain from that, she broke away from the group. This was her only chance - the others would run to the beach, and if it came between chasing the heart and chasing her, Jones' men would go after the heart every time. She hoped. That would be the smart thing to do, but she doubted he hosted a crew of complete geniuses. Veering left, she picked up her feet (because she bloody well refused to trip) and pushed everything she had into her legs.

"Theo? Theo! Where are you-" Elizabeth's shouts faded behind her as she ran.

She'd gone ten, twenty, thirty feet before she decided to chance a glance behind her. But before her head could even turn, a hand was seizing her hair as it flew behind her, and then she was being yanked back with a force that could have easily broken her neck. Giving a choked gasp, she threw a kick behind her and it impacted, but it did little good before she was forcibly spun around. The crewman was monstrous, his face resembling an anglerfish, mouth little more than a chasm of wickedly jagged fangs as seawater poured out of it when he grinned at her.

"Duck!"

The shout caught the monster off-guard enough for his grip to slacken, and she obeyed the cry without meaning to, Jack's sword whispering above her head as it cleaved through the monster's neck with sickening ease.

"I'd say that's us more than even now, Dora," he kicked the cursing head aside with his usual flair "Wouldn't you?"

He watched her carefully - apparently genuinely wanting an answer.

Sprawled on the ground, Theo nodded breathlessly and he seemed satisfied with that, then she gestured to the right "If you straight run that way, you'll make it to the dinghy before anybody else."

He stared at her for a moment that felt longer than it probably was, and she held his gaze. Finally, he nodded and did as she advised. Theo remained in the grass, breathing heavily. It was only the knowledge that the crew would soon be chasing James back into the forest that had her forcing her weight back onto her weary legs, and after a moment of halting thought, she began to make for the old church ruins.

"We're not getting out of this," Elizabeth breathed as they were all backed up towards the dinghy by Jones' crew.

She was wielding Theodora's sword, and even if there had been time to ask about that small fact, James wasn't sure he wanted to. The heart of Davy Jones was beating steadily where it was tucked within his coat, out of rhythm with the pounding of James' own heart. The effect was…disconcerting, to say the very least. He ignored it in favour of pushing on with his plan.

"Not with the chest," he said before doling out the order "Into the boat."

"You're mad!" Elizabeth accused - but she did not argue.

If there had ever been the faintest, slightest shred of doubt in James' mind that he'd made the right decision concerning which woman it was that he loved, it would have been gone then. Theodora would have seen him unconscious in the boat beside Turner before she allowed him to go forth with such a stupid idea, however noble it appeared on the surface. He huffed a laugh.

"Theodora is still on that island. Did you really think I'd flee and leave her here?"

Turning, James lifted the heavy iron chest from the dinghy and began to splash through the shallows with it. If he could get through this stretch with it, he could pick up some speed at least - enough to make the crew of the Dutchman and Sparrow both think that he was fleeing in earnest. It had to look real.

"You'll lead them to her!" Elizabeth argued, calling after his back.

Christ, he hoped that he would not. But if this was what was meant to happen, hopefully she would know where to hide so that she'd remain out of sight.

"I say we respect his final wish," Sparrow interrupted "Let the two of them go off and re-enact Shakespeare, eh?"

James hoped that he wouldn't do that, either. It was the last he heard from them before he was out of earshot, and the angry cries of the beasts that gave chase drowned out anything else.

Theo lay in the shade of the ruins, trying desperately not to think of the flask of water in her pocket. The sip she'd allowed herself hadn't felt like anywhere near enough. Her limbs shook without her having much say in the matter. Every so often, a particularly bad tremor would rock her thigh or her arm, but the cool of the shade and the grass beneath her was nothing short of divine, especially at the sweat in her clothes cooled. Plus there were no mad sea creatures swinging pointy objects at her. That was always a plus.

It occurred to her to worry. About the others - about James, especially. Always about James, really. But she hadn't been lying here all that long, and…well, truth be told she didn't have it in her to worry. In a literal, physical sense. Oh, her mind dwelled on it and every noise - every stray gust of wind, every birdsong, every rustle - had her ears perking up as if it might miraculously change into his voice. But she couldn't sit up and gnaw at her lip as she waited, she couldn't bite at her nails or pace worriedly. The most she could do was exactly what she was doing. Theo just had no idea whether it was the truth or simply what she wanted to hear when she told herself that this was the best thing to do. If the both of them roamed the island looking for one another, they might never find each other.

This structure was the only thing on this hellish island, though. The only thing that she'd seen, at least. If they were going to meet anywhere, it would have to be here. Where else? That patch of sand next to that other patch of sand, between those two trees? James would have the same line of thinking.

As if answering her hopes, the sound of boots crunching on grass soon came. Theo's hand trailed towards the hilt of her dagger, but she didn't draw it, and sitting up seemed a dire prospect, too. She'd been right in knowing her last burst of adrenaline had been her last. If it was Jones' crew, she was fucked. But if it was Jones' crew, it wouldn't be one set of boots. The list of candidates in terms of who it could be was a rather short one.

"Theodora?"

It was James' voice, tone barely louder than just normal speaking. He was being cautious.

"Here," she called - and heard his sigh of relief when she did.

"Thank Christ," he muttered, and when he rounded the structure he fell into the grass beside her rather than trying to pull her to stand.

"Please tell me you have the heart," she murmured.

"Did you doubt me?"

"Never. But I worried."

"So did I. We've a habit of being separated, I hardly dared to hope that this wouldn't end in more of the same."

"We wouldn't be separated so often if you didn't bloody run off all the time," she drawled.

He huffed a laugh, and then that turned into a real, warm chuckle - but while Theo prided herself on her sheer comedic genius, she knew it was one born of relief and an ability to finally stop and relax rather than because of her unparalleled wit. The sound still sent butterflies whirling throughout her abdomen all the same. Her eyes fluttered open, albeit not without great effort. It was worth it, though, for she found him looking down at her with something that was less fondness and more adoration, his eyes hopelessly soft in a way that sent her legs even weaker than they already were.

"Hi," she said softly.

He snorted, his lips curling into a lopsided smile "Hello."

Was he this happy over their reunion, the prospect of getting his life back, or both? Theo found she didn't care so long as he kept looking that happy. It wouldn't last, she knew it wouldn't. There was too much to come. But she was happy to bask in this moment. Finally, she stiffly dragged herself up to sit, just so she could lean into him and press her lips against his. He was there and leaning into it almost before she'd even had a chance to move, and he kissed her with a care and tenderness that even rivalled that which had just shone in his eyes until Theo's chest ached and she was certain she was going to swoon like some daft bint in a movie.

Lifting a hand, she held onto his lapel when they parted and then quickly slid her hand up to his neck to avoid feeling the beating of Jones' heart. Sensing her unease, he took her free hand in one of his.

"There's a dinghy in the ruins. It's in sad shape, but it'll do."

"One of Beckett's men finds you adrift. It's never really specified how, but I guess that's it."

"We should go now. If we drag the dinghy to the beach on the northern shore, we'll go unnoticed."

"No - not yet," Theo shook her head "We need to wait."

"Wait? For what?"

"You'll see," she gave an apologetic smile at the way his lips thinned "Remember five minutes ago when you missed me?"

That pried another one of those soft smiles from him, at least, so he hadn't changed his mind on that score. Not yet.

The air reeked of rot, of burning, and of rotten burning. The great, terrible tentacles of the kraken had slunk below the water not one full minute prior, and while some of the men let out incredibly premature shouts of joy, Will did not - nor did Elizabeth, and nor did Jack. Between the three of them, Elizabeth was perhaps the cheeriest - her lips threatening to twitch into a smile until she saw the solemn set of her fiancé's face, and even the grim resignation on Jack's, his dark eyes appearing impossibly darker as he stared ahead unseeingly.

The order to abandon ship came not a moment later, and all aboard the Pearl wrestled with the fact that the kraken would return. Turning her head towards Jack as he took a slow step towards the ship's rail, setting a hand down heavily atop it as though saying farewell to a dear friend, Elizabeth made sure he was paying them no mind before pulling Will aside.

"Will, did…did Theo say anything to you about this moment?"

Will blinked, the question apparently unexpected amidst the chaos, and so it took the words a moment to register. But when they did, his face became troubled and for a moment he looked so much older than his years.

"We cannot, Elizabeth," he shook his head "Jack's betrayed us all, he always will, but never to something like this. Never when rescue wasn't a possibility."

"We must," Elizabeth insisted "If it can do this to the ship, what could it do to a rowboat? It'll never stop. We can't all….we can't all…"

No matter how many times she attempted to finish that sentence, it appeared she couldn't. There was a difference between discussing it in abstract, and outright saying they should leave Jack to die. As if sensing their panic, Jack took a decisive step back from the rail and then began striding towards them with a purpose. Will and Elizabeth's mouths opened in unison as they faltered and wrestled with what to do. They were saved the trouble. Not meeting their eyes, Jack kept his dark eyes fixed on some indeterminable spot in the thin air.

"I'm going to me quarters," he said gruffly.

"What?" Elizabeth breathed.

"The Pearl is my ship. Cap'n goes down with the ship. It's a cliché for a reason, love," he muttered, pushing past the two of them to stride for the doors to his quarters.

He paid no mind to Will calling after him.

"He can't mean that," Will insisted.

"He's made his mind up. He's doing the right thing," Elizabeth breathed "Maybe Theo was right about him being a good man, after all."

The doors shut firmly behind Jack, and then he closed the curtains too, obscuring the foggy glass panels fitted into them. The ship gave a dangerous groaning creak beneath them, and Elizabeth and Will were shaken from their shock. They had no time. That didn't stop Elizabeth from slotting Theo's sword through the door handles, though. Even if she felt sick the whole time she did so.

As they climbed into the dinghy and met the confused and disbelieving eyes of the crew, neither of them were aware of Jack racing to his desk inside his cabin and taking up the knife he'd sharpened into a wicked edge that very morning.

James and Theo spent some time filling the dinghy with coconuts (after Theo massacred one herself in the shade of the ruins, anyway), moving with a slow sort of stiffness that betrayed their exhaustion. More than that, it betrayed the heavy, sick feeling burrowing its way through Theo's insides. From this spot on the beach, they couldn't see the Pearl, nor the fate it was meeting, but it was all that occupied Theo's thoughts. Only once they had more than enough did they stop and slump into the sand beside the boat. There was nothing left to do now but push the boat into the water and go. Well, Theo knew that was what James would think. She was still waiting, though. Not sure whether she should even be hoping or not. Not sure whether this was madness or not - and if that madness was the good kind, if it was so.

"Now may we go?" James asked, brow creasing as he raised his eyebrows.

"Wait," Theo shook her head, her knee bouncing restlessly despite how it made the already tired muscle burn and ache.

The coconut had given her just enough energy to worry properly, apparently. Despite James' annoyance, she couldn't look at him, her gaze roaming endlessly over their surroundings.

"For what?" James asked at a near-demand, his grip on his patience waning.

"For-"

"Well. Can't say I'm not relieved that the plan worked, love," a new voice piped up.

Theo heaved a sigh of relief as they both turned their heads to see Jack trudging through the sand towards them, clutching his profusely bleeding hand to his chest.

A/N: So…that was a thing. I made some minor changes to the timeline of the fight just from a logical standpoint. In the movie, Jack's little speech to James is way shorter, so because it was lengthened here, it feels like the fight between Elizabeth, Pintel & Ragetti and Jones' crew starts earlier just because the big three were held up longer than they should've been in the previous scene. Just small things like that. Then I changed something quite a bit bigger at the end there. Man, I was so certain where I was heading with this was so obvious but nobody guessed it! Probably because nobody in their right mind would change it (: maybe you guys had too much faith in me lolol.

Me at the start of this story: "nah, Jack has to die, I can't possibly change that."
Also me, every week since then: "haha…unless?"
Doing this for my nine year old self who was absolutely distraught in the cinema when she watched him die and didn't know there was going to be a third movie x

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