A/N: Last chapter before they're all out at sea once again! I feel like this bit between the second and third movie started to drag on a bit, so I do apologise for that, but I just wanted one last moment for James and Theo before everything kicks off. That being said, without overhyping anything, I am very excited for this final movie. A lot of my initial ideas for this story in general when I first started it came from the final movie, so the fact that we're finally here is very surreal, and I really hope you guys enjoy what I have in store!

"Lieutenant Groves told me you had rather a difficult day," James greeted when he found her in the sitting room that evening.

It was turning into a difficult evening, too. They were all of them set to take to the sea as soon as possible so that they might be ready for action as soon as they had their heading, and that might've been a blessing - because Theo was at her best when she was kept busy - were it not for Hattie. The girl meant well, and she was only trying to help (which meant Theo's stress must've shown on her face more than she thought), but every time she picked up anything more substantial than a necklace, the maid was taking it from her hands and packing it away for her rather than allowing her to do so herself. In the end, Theo was given little choice other than to flee her own bedroom so that she didn't snap at the girl for just doing her job, and for trying to help. Hattie didn't deserve it, and it would only add to the guilt already rolling its way through her insides the second any kind of snippiness slipped out.

"You saw him today?" she asked.

"He…saw that he caught me upon my return home, so that he might warn me."

"So you could be spared my pure Irish fury?" she teased half-heartedly.

"So I might offer comfort," he corrected.

"Sweet of him," she said quietly "But I'm fine."

"You know how I loathe that word."

"Adequate, then."

"You're never adequate."

"Ouch."

"Never merely adequate," he corrected drily.

"Nicely saved."

"Theodora."

She sighed, her gaze fixed on her skirts. In an hour it would be acceptable for her to change into her nightgown, and until that time came she was stuck feeling the burning need to claw her way out of all of these stupid layers so that she could just breathe.

"He hanged a child."

"I…heard about that too," he replied.

Removing his hat and his wig, the ribbon binding his hair to the nape of his neck was next to go, and then he raked his hand through it to coax it away from where it had become plastered to his scalp in the tropical heat. Theo watched the whole process with faint admiration, struck even in her current mood by how handsome he was. Were he the type, he'd have been able to rival Jack in his womanising. She was pretty pleased that none of that seemed to interest him - and where elements of it did, it was solely where she was concerned. Unlucky she might have been in many ways, but it was made up for in that aspect.

"I should've done more," she murmured as he dropped his accoutrements to the side table before sitting down by her side "Should've stopped it."

"How old was he? The boy?"

"Couldn't've been older than twelve."

He grimaced, but didn't seem as entirely solemn as he'd been at first. Theo knew that childhood was defined differently here - it ended earlier, and the concept of childhood in general was a fairly newfangled thing in this century to begin with anyway. She knew she likely saw the boy as much younger than Beckett, Groves, or even James himself did. It took none of the weight out of the grim heaviness that had settled itself throughout her ever since she'd witnessed it.

"Distasteful - very distasteful, I agree, but not entirely unheard of. Not here. Not…now."

To Hattie's ears, if she could hear them speaking from upstairs, it would sound like he was talking about the stricter measures against piracy ushered in by Beckett and his damned decrees. Theo knew his true meaning, though.

"A child, James," Theo shook her head "I wasn't thinking, I just panicked. If I'd have been clever about it…I could've told Beckett we needed him. That I'd had a vision about him, something…Instead I just…I asked, I rambled some crap about needing a boy for the house, and I pleaded with him. Like he'd care."

James hesitated, but at her responding look he grimaced and continued. As he did, he reached out a hand to pluck one of hers from amidst her skirts, interlocking his fingers with her own.

"I share your distaste for the matter," he said diplomatically "But it played out as best it could, considering it sounded like there was truly nothing to be done. Nothing that might spare us any detriment in the future, at least."

Watching him silently, Theo waited for him to explain. The tired, guilty, horrified side of her wanted to rail and screech - to demand how what happened that day could possibly be described as good, to announce that the time he hailed from had desensitised him to such horrors. But that would have all been terribly unfair. James was far from unfeeling, and she'd never accuse him of being so.

"While I would have no wish to see one so young on the gallows, I cannot pretend having him in our employment would be a suitable alternative, given the unfavourable sentiments held towards us by the pirates as of late, nor would it have helped suspicions surrounding your sympathies. Not to mention the fact that an unknown variable would only increase the great risk which we already undertake on a daily basis."

She grimaced, the corners of her lips twisting downwards even as she held fast to his hand - mostly because while she didn't really enjoy the point he was making, she couldn't help but concede that he did indeed have one.

"Those particular reservations aside, Beckett will be on the outlook for your…overplaying your hand as far as your knowledge is concerned. The moment he suspects your use of it to simply get what you wish from him will be the very same moment that he ceases to heed you at all. The ground on which you stand is far from even, Theodora, you must remember that."

He waited patiently as she mulled over his words for a few moments, and then she sighed. He was right. Damn him. He usually was. Turning their hands over in her lap so that his faced upwards, she traced the fingertips of her free hand across the back of his - the tendons, then the knuckles, and then down to the calluses his swordwork had given him in the divot between his thumb and forefinger.

"If I said the boy was useful, I'd have had to find a use for him. Shoehorned him into some important moment out there. Something dangerous, no doubt."

"Just so," he agreed solemnly "You wouldn't have ensured his survival in saving him from the noose - a fate kinder than one that awaits many in the fray we will soon be enmeshed in. I will not say with certainty that he would have perished either way, but your saving him may not have actually saved him. Your pleading his case as you did can easily be brushed aside as your delicate feminine sensibilities getting the better of you…"

Theo snorted humorlessly, and he offered a soft half-smile in response as he continued "...But the fact that you did not take things further was for the best."

It would be impossible to save everybody. She had saved the Governor, and for that she was thrilled. She'd saved Jack, and she still had no idea whether she'd done the right thing in doing so. Although she'd likely find out before the end. She would save James. There was no alternative, and she refused to even so much as entertain the possibility of one. But she couldn't save everybody. Will, for one. His fate rested heavily upon her shoulders, along with how that would impact Elizabeth. But there was nothing to be done with that. The boy was another casualty. His fate should have bothered her less than the hundred souls she sent to the swords of Jones' men, given that she hadn't caused his demise but simply failed to stop it. But she hadn't seen the slaughter of the men. She hadn't even known about it until their bones had likely long been picked clean by all manner of sea life.

"I made myself watch," she said softly "Not all of them. But that one."

A proper hangman tied each noose based on calculations - all to do with weight and height, to make sure the neck snapped. She'd seen that in a documentary once. Beckett had not ruled that to be an efficient use of time and resources, and all were tied the same for these executions. Few met a clean death, instead dangling and slowly suffocating. The more she thought about it, the more she struggled to breathe properly herself. She didn't voice those details - he had enough on his mind.

"I'm sorry."

She nodded. What else could she say? Using his grip on her hand, he pulled her closer until she leaned against him before he let go and snaked his hand around her back, hooking his grip onto the dip of her waist as they sat all but huddled together on the sofa, as close as they could get with her skirts in the way, basking in the quiet they were soon to lose.

"I told Beckett that I have to be stationed on the Dutchman with you," she said, if only to dispel the memory of dangling, kicking bodies from her mind.

James tensed slightly where she rested against him.

"Did he listen?"

"Given that he hadn't yet informed anybody of his plan to put you there, he didn't have much choice but to believe I knew about it because of some great prophetic vision. He asked why I had to be there, I said I didn't know but that I just knew it was important. He called that convenient, and I can't really argue with that."

He relaxed then - maybe through sheer willpower, visibly debating on whether he should be pleased or upset that it was now a certainty that she'd be with him on the Dutchman.

James made a noise of agreement "You might wish to consider giving him a piece of useful information before we part ways from him - as an act of good faith. Thus far, you have only told him what will happen just before it is set to happen. He'll hardly consider that to be of use."

"I thought of that - so I already did."

"Oh?"

"I told him to look to Will."

"Turner?"

"Mm. He's got no real loyalty to the pirates. Definitely not to Jack. All he really cares about is saving his father - Elizabeth too, obviously, but given that she doesn't particularly need saving right now, Bill wins out."

James snorted at that.

"What?" She prompted.

"Yourself and Elizabeth have something in common in that you both fall into one very particular category."

"We're women who don't belong in this time? We were both lucky enough to catch your eye?"

He rolled his eyes "Neither one of you has ever once needed saving."

"You and I remember the last couple of years very differently," she snorted "We might not be damsels in distress in the classic sense, but we're not…I don't know, powerhouses. You've saved my skin a fair few times."

"And you mine. It appears to be a running theme in our marriage."

One that she would hopefully keep up as time progressed - with one grand pièce de résistance before they lived a long, quiet, happy life together. The prospect itself was one that would have scared her. Not because of that eventuality, but because of everything that lay between now and then, but the hanging that day had stirred something within her. Maybe it was seeing the death first hand - the executions, which had an entirely different feel to jumping over a felled body mid-battle - or Beckett's complete lack of compassion during it all, but it was the event that was needed to drive home in her mind that there was no time for panicking, nor for falling apart now.

Everything was now upon them, and everything would need to be dealt with. She wasn't going to ruin it by freaking out, even if she avoided doing so by sheer force of will and nothing else.

"Whatever my own opinions on Turner might be, I can see the wisdom in it," he admitted, his eyebrows edging upwards as he considered what she'd just told him "Brash he may be, but he's fairly moral - albeit in a non-traditional sense. He would never agree to a scheme that would see great harm befall the undeserving. Whether or not he views us as undeserving is another matter entirely, given our status as traitors."

Theo almost flinched at the word, the hateful glower of Ada's former employee flashing through her mind, but she pushed it down, instead opting to drily joke.

"Lucky for us, we have Beckett on our side as far as that goes."

James' responding snort suggested he wasn't much comforted by that prospect.

"Will would've ended up colluding with Beckett either way," she admitted "With Jack's…interference."

"Of course," James deadpanned "Interference here having the meaning of betrayal, I'd wager."

"I never took you for a gambling man."

"It's not quite gambling if it's a certainty."

Theo smiled "It's almost like you've met him before."

"I can say with the utmost sincerity that I wish I had not," he snorted.

As he spoke, his hand absentmindedly trailed from her waist up her back, smoothing gently up and down. She could only vaguely feel the weight of his hand through the layers of her dress, but it was still comforting, and then when it finally moved up to stop and press flat against the bare skin just below the nape of her neck, his fingers settling over the curve where her neck met her shoulder, she sighed her contentment.

"I think you love him really. You're just too committed to the bit at this point to admit it."

"And I think you know me far too well to truly believe that."

"Yeah," she conceded "That's fair. My point stands, though - Will and Beckett would end up thrown together had Jack died and come back, my suggestion just means it'll happen sooner rather than later. Plus, if I hadn't made it, it mightn't have happened at all because Jack wouldn't be there to make it happen, so I'm just sort of…roughly patching things up as best I can."

Voicing all of this to him didn't change anything, but it was oddly reassuring, and the more opportunity she had to do so, the more she wondered how she ever got by only being able to think about all of this sort of thing to herself rather than saying any of it.

"I struggle to imagine things may be worse for Sparrow's absence."

"You know him far too well to think there's not a wealth of intelligence there that isn't alarmingly good at finagling situations into how they should be," Theo countered.

James did not admit her point anywhere near as easily as she had his, grimacing and admitting only "Should is a relative word."

"Now you sound like him."

Her hand came up to rest on his chest, hopefully taking the bite out of such a grave insult. The rise and fall of his chest beneath her hand was a comfort, as was the vibration his retort sent through it.

"If we're to remain friends, you should never say that again."

"I can't believe that you just friend-zoned me."

His frown gave away the fact that he had no bloody clue what she was talking about - but he rarely did, and at least she found herself funny. That was always a comfort these days.

"Do you truly trust Sparrow to appear when needed?"

"I do," she replied, and was faintly surprised to find she meant it "He's not half as selfish as he wants everybody to think. Still very bloody selfish, yeah, but not completely."

"I'm not sure whether the fact that you can say that after having been betrayed by him makes the assertion more or less believable."

"Your awareness of my sheer unparalleled wisdom and good judgement should give you all the help you need to believe me."

He had the good grace not to laugh at that one.

"Even if we're going to discount him as somebody whose only interests are self-interests, it makes sense that he'd turn up. Once he'd dealt with the Brethren, Beckett would turn his attention to him. If he wants to beat Beckett, he'll need the pirates. If he wants the pirates, it'd sort of help if they were alive."

"And if he settles for having a hostage in the form of Port Royal's Governor instead of seeking the help of his kin?"

"Beckett would never be swayed by that. Jack knows Beckett well enough to know that. He'll probably part ways with Governor Swann at his earliest convenience - he's not really one for responsibility, is Jack."

James nodded at that, not seeming slightly as bothered by that prospect as she'd expected him to be. Maybe he was just relieved to have him out of Beckett's grasp, or maybe he was similarly as eager to imagine that he'd be freed of Jack's company, too. It made sense. However perilous it might've been trying to barter passage from some shady pirate port, Jack's presence had a way of being ten times more risky even when the infamous captain didn't intend for it to be so.

"You do realise the irony in your saying that as you assure me we can rely on him?"

"Jack's a walking contradiction, it's not much of a revelation."

"You have me there."

He appeared close to falling asleep, his blinking slowing and becoming lazy. A nap together was a pleasant prospect, there soon wouldn't be much opportunity for it - but Theo had something on her mind.

"Do you think I did the right thing? Saving Jack? I know you don't like him - do you think I should have let him die?"

He blinked in surprise, suddenly very awake. She didn't really blame him - she hadn't completely intended to ask the question right up until she already had. It kind of flew in the face of the whole "no self-doubt" thing, but she had to ask. She had to know. They would soon set sail, and after that there would be no room to ask - and James was right. She did know him. She knew that, while he might answer diplomatically, he would still do so honestly.

"Yes, you did the right think," he answered with a frankness that caught her off-guard.

"What?"

"Don't look so surprised," he snorted "You'd have never been able to live with yourself had you left him to die. You gave him your word that you would help him, and then you did so. Was I thrilled about it at the time, stuck in a dinghy with him and his incessant singing and antics? No. However…philosophical debates on whether fate should be left be, or even if fate is truly fate if it can be changed, aside, the one piece of advice you were given by the one being who has any manner of authority in your being here was to change things. That is what you have done. Do you doubt that it was the right thing? Truly?"

"No, but now that I'm faced with how much it'll change, it has me worried."

Would the others even get in and out of the locker successfully? Would they be able to rescue the Pearl with no Jack? Would somebody else be able to figure out the clues in the charts in Jack's absence? Surely Will or Barbossa would manage it - they were both decent at thinking like Jack, so surely…surely. Hopefully.

"It cannot change events that have not yet happened. Not truly. They were never set to come to pass anyway - you've said yourself, in the ones you knew I would still now pine for Elizabeth, unaware that the right woman for me exists at all. Seeing as I can confirm that I do not do so, and I am not unaware, I can say with some certainty that you had already changed things long before you saved Sparrow. Is it not better to do so purposefully - decisively - than incidentally?"

"I hate when you speak sense," she grumbled.

"You must hate when I speak at all, then."

Her eye roll at that was fond, and it earned her a painfully handsome smile.

"But I know that not to be the case," he added "For you've already professed your love for my voice."

"I should never have told you that, you just use it against me now."

He chuckled - and she liked his laugh, too. Although, selfishly, a lot of that was to do with how few were lucky enough to hear it.

"Use your knowledge of this alternative, false course of events wherein doing so may help us here - in reality. But do not cling to it. It is a tool, not a detriment, nor a cross to bear. You've enough of those as it is."

Damn him - and bless him. Because while she'd been certain that there was nothing anybody could say to make her feel better, not James, not Queen Achtland, not Calypso, and not even her father, he'd somehow managed it. For a man of action, he was damn good with his words, too.

"Beckett agreed to let you follow me to the Dutchman, then? When the time comes?"

"He did."

"It speaks worlds of how I distrust the man that I'd rather have you on a ship with Jones than with him," he snorted "At least it doesn't spell another separation."

"A major win, as far as our history goes," she murmured, but didn't let on just how much of a serious victory it truly was "Beckett said something weird, though, when he did finally agree."

"Oh?"

"He made a big song and dance of considering it - weighing it all up, staring me down like he'd be able to see if I was up to something or not if he glared at me for long enough. Then, finally, he turned and said that he didn't imagine a woman in my predicament would wish to be aboard a ship like the Dutchman unless it was completely and totally necessary. Then he agreed."

"He was referring to your knowledge, I expect. It's your defining predicament, is it not?"

"I don't know," she shook her head "It was the way he'd said it. All pointed - and he waited for some big reaction afterwards. I know he knows about my abilities, I'm the one who told him. Why would I react to him bringing it up? It was weird. I don't like it."

"I wouldn't worry overmuch. We go from the Endeavour to the Dutchman, under which circumstances all we have to worry about is Jones and his unnatural hatred of you."

"What bliss."

There was that low chuckle again "All will be well. We will be well. Won't we?"

Now it was her turn to give him the reassurance she'd just sought - and an indication that if she thought he'd forgotten about her mysterious purpose, she was sorely mistaken.

"We'll be fine," she nodded - and he had no idea how much of a vow she meant it as.

A/N: I mention in this chapter that childhood was a fairly new-fangled thing in the 1700s - this isn't strictly true. Off of the top of my head, the concept of childhood was actually a fairly Victorian thing, prior to which children were more or less expected to behave like miniature adults. So we can hazard a guess that a thirteen year old (as the actor for the kid was in the third movie) being hanged wouldn't be as shocking to folk back then as it would be to us today - but I didn't want to have James be like "ah, yeah, it's fine", so y'know. Allowances were made.

I do think it's true to the character that he'd find it distasteful - he didn't even enjoy seeing Jack on the gallows - so, like, true to canon? I'd argue so. True to history? Debatable. But POTC is more historical fantasy than anything, so it's fine

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