A/N: A friend of mine wanted me to end this chapter with "oh god oh fuck it's Davy Jones with the steel chair" and I need us all to take a moment to applaud my restraint in not doing that…or will I? I did make a beautiful image depicting such an outcome, though, which now lives on my tumblr whenever I dredge it up to laugh at it all over again.

"Sails!"

The cry from the crows nest lit a fire in Theo that might've only been compared to how she'd felt when that first round of cannonfire had splintered its way through Port Royal - the one that signalled the beginning of Barbossa's assault on the town. It would be an hour, perhaps slightly more, before they were close enough for any shots to be fired - even with the Dutchman's guns - but the moment the cry rang out and the men sprang into action, Theo's eyes met James' across the deck. His wig and his height both made him easy to spot, and he was very much in Admiral mode, his jaw set and his posture all business. They exchanged nods, and she headed below deck.

Moving swiftly on her feet, and being thankful for her lack of skirts every step of the way, she strode through the uppermost level - the one which housed her and James' quarters, along with what might've once been a mess hall. Anybody not on Jones' crew was easy to spot, given that they weren't waterlogged, nor just various murky shades from head to toe. It also helped a bit that Hattie was the only one in a dress.

Thankfully, any visions she had of having to scour the ship right down to the bilges were swept away when she found her on the next level below, leaning over a massive tub with the young soldier, working in quiet companionship together.

"They've spotted sails. It'll begin soon," Theo said.

Both rose to their feet, Mr Gray straightening up while Hattie dried her hands on her apron.

"I should go to my station," he said in the way of farewell, leaving them to return to their quarters alone.

Theo was aware of how Hattie kept anxiously glancing up at her face as they walked, no doubt searching for any trace of fear or worry. She'd find none, for it wasn't there. Her sense of calm focus remained.

Turning her head, she asked the girl "Are you alright?"

"I think so," Hattie answered, looking away from her and to the men bustling about them.

All of the action that they had to weave through even to just get to one floor above could've been disconcerting, but the men did not move with panic. There was nothing frenzied about it - they weren't so much as jostled as they neared their quarters - just a sense of dutiful efficiency.

"We'll be fine," she said "A bit of a skirmish, but that's all. There's no need to worry. We'll be out of the way of it down here."

Hattie nodded, but waited until they were in the room with the bolt on the door latched. It wouldn't do much - the rotten wood would give away with a firm kick or two, but it wouldn't come to that. The fight about to break out wasn't even grand enough to be properly shown on screen, so Theo wasn't much worried about it.

"This brings back memories, Mistress Theo," she admitted with a quiet laugh, hugging her arms about herself "The attack on Port Royal. Barricading ourselves into your bedroom."

Smiling a little, Theo breathed a laugh "This won't be like that."

Although the way her hand twitched to go to the borrowed sword at her hip did threaten to take the believability out of her words. But that was just a precaution, and it wasn't needed, so she forced her hands to remain at her side.

"I hope not - I don't know if my nerves could stand it," Hattie cast a nervous glance upwards "And in your…"

She looked to Theo and then trailed off, falling silent. Theo blinked at her, but said nothing. If she didn't want to share, she wasn't going to force her. A single shot of cannon fire rang out around them - coming from the Dutchman's guns, if how the ship seemed to reverberate around them was any indication. She didn't hear it make impact, though, and no further shots came. A warning to surrender, perhaps. Or maybe they were just testing to see if they were within range yet.

"What comes after this?" Hattie asked quietly.

Some pretty dire shit. Followed, she would make sure, by a lot of good things. A veritable happily ever after.

"What do you mean?" she murmured.

"You…you're helping Bec- Lord Beckett to win. Does he bring about a time of great peace? Does he…does he stop being so…when this is done? Is he only that way out of necessity?"

Theo considered the questions. Not because she was unsure as to their answers, but because she wasn't sure whether she should give the honest answers. But Hattie had been a friend - and more than that, she'd seen first-hand what Beckett was like. If she wasn't disillusioned, she did not have a brain, and Hattie was not brainless. And she felt like she owed her better than what she'd been given so far.

Pausing for a beat, she made sure there was noise enough about the ship that they didn't have to worry about being overheard, and then she replied quietly.

"No. He's that way because he can be. And because he enjoys it."

"Then why help him?" Hattie demanded at a whisper.

Theo gave her a heavy look, and realisation dawned across her face.

"You're…you're not hel-"

Theo motioned for her to hush before she finished, even though her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Does Admiral Norrington know?" she stared at her with wide eyes.

"Yes. He does. He has all along."

Nodding slowly, the girl bundled her hands in her apron.

"Hattie…" Theo sighed "I'm…I'm not going to be here for much longer. And Mercer will soon seize control of the Dutchman."

At the man's name, her face became a shade paler.

"If you want to stay here, you could tell them you had no idea what I was up to. That you're an innocent party in all of this. We could- we could stage something, to make them believe it. Some sort of information you can feed them. I wouldn't blame you for it," Theo said "But if you want to come with us, not as my maid, but as my friend, you can."

"But the pirates…"

"Will not hurt you. Elizabeth has lived amongst them all this time, and she's fine. I lived in Tortuga, and I was fine."

And whatever quarrels they had were with Theo, and quite possibly James. Not Hattie. Sure, Jack had promised to do what he could, but that relied on his being reunited with them by now. Had he? She wasn't sure, but she didn't think so. There'd been no rumble of exasperated groans on the distant horizon.

"You'd be more than welcome, but the choice is up to you. And…I'm not sure I'd like to be aboard the Endeavour in the coming days, anyway."

Her voice was heavy with meaning at that last part, and it was clear that Hattie understood what she was getting at immediately. Another fire of the cannons rang out then - this one followed by a resounding sickening crack of wood splintering.

"Can I have some time to think?" Hattie asked quietly.

"Of course," Theo replied "But I can't offer as much as I'd like. It's going to be an eventful night."

The girl nodded, but otherwise didn't respond, and silence prevailed after that. Well, not total silence. Actually - nothing really resembling silence at all. The firing of the cannons continued on and on until the absence of it in the few gaps that did appear felt eerily quiet and uncomfortable, and before long they were close enough to the Empress to hear the battle-cries of the men aboard, which only earned inhuman growls from Jones' crew in return. They almost completely drowned out the shouts and the cries of James' men.

"How certain are you that the Dutchman will win this fight?" Hattie asked.

"One hundred percent."

As she answered, Theo rested a hand on the girl's shoulder.

"And…how certain are you about Beckett? About his nature?"

"A hundred and ten."

"And that he'll lose?"

"...Ninety."

Hattie's eyes widened with worry, turning to look at her "Why the ten percent?"

"Jack was supposed to die. Killed by the kraken, rather than be brought back to Port Royal with James and I. It didn't shake out that way because I…interfered. I don't think it's messed up anything, but…well, Jack's a big presence. Changing what he does can change a lot."

"Are you going to change anything else?"

"Just one thing. Intentionally speaking."

"Will it harm the…the other side?"

"No. I don't see how it could. If anything, it might help."

Although it wouldn't matter if she thought otherwise. Queen Achtland herself could teleport down to the Dutchman and warn her that saving James would decimate the world as they all knew it, and she'd still damn well see it done. Did that make her a bad person? Or just a very good wife? It didn't change anything either way. Nothing else mattered but what lay ahead of her tonight.

The hurried thudding of boots against the deck above them began to pick up pace, followed by pistol shots. She almost fancied that she could hear James' voice, distinctive as it was, amongst the din. Running her thumb across the wedding band on the inside of her finger, she still did not panic, although she began to contemplate praying. To Achtland. If she was going to pray, it might as well be to a deity she'd actually met. The trouble was, she didn't know if she'd answer it.

While she didn't think that Achtland wasn't on her side, she did doubt that she'd help her when the time came. She seemed more content to sit back and watch, like this was some sort of absurd nature documentary. It was a path of thought that Theo didn't allow herself to stray down, for it would only make her angry. Anger would serve her better than fear, sure, but either one would still taint her thinking.

When the chaos halted, it felt oddly sudden - the way most of the noise died down over the course of only a few minutes. Theo rose to her feet and Hattie followed, although with less purpose, however this time Theo paid her no mind. Should she go above deck? Or would James come to her? No, she'd leave it a few minutes first - give things time to settle down. But hell, the minutes felt painfully long.

After counting to sixty, then reversing the process back down to zero, and then starting it anew one more time, Theo finally sharply inhaled, drew herself up, and made for the door. She opened it just as James, who had been standing outside, was about to knock - and almost received a rap on the forehead for her troubles. Blinking his surprise (something she no doubt mirrored) he recovered quickly…although he continued to falter.

Finally, when he offered an unsure look and stepped aside, she understood why. Elizabeth stood behind him, her dark eyes wide and disbelieving.

"Theo?" Elizabeth breathed.

All Theo could really do was stare back, unsure as to what kind of greeting she'd get - what kind of greeting she'd earned. Her prior behaviour was bound to look dodgy, wasn't it?

Her question was answered when Elizabeth strode forward and pulled her into a hug, Theo raising her arms and returning it slowly thanks to her shock. What was she even doing here? She was supposed to be furious - she was supposed to be adamantly insisting that she remain with her crew to prove her point. She…oh. She did not have the death of her father stoking her resentment. And Theo was not supposed to be here. Maybe her presence, her knowledge, her prior friendship, earned a shred of a brownie point where there would not have been any otherwise. There was always the possibility that she'd come here to give her a good ol' right hook, though.

When they stepped apart, her fists remained lowered. Small mercies. James appeared to share the thought, looking between them with visible relief before turning his attention to Theo.

"I must attend to matters up on deck - do not stray from this room, either of you."

The escape attempt was still on his mind, then - and it would be dampened if Elizabeth and her crew were brought to Beckett before they could free them.

"May I take a walk about the ship, sir?" Hattie asked quickly "I need to stretch my legs."

And to consider on which side of the war she wanted to fall on, no doubt.

"If Mrs Norrington agrees," he said, glancing towards her - seeking to make sure Hattie leaving or staying wouldn't mess with anything, she suspected.

Apparently Elizabeth didn't know of this piece of news, head whipping round to stare at James before slowly turning back to her, visibly stunned. Surely it couldn't have come as that much of a surprise, could it? It was a bit fast, yeah - faster than she'd ever imagined herself getting married, if indeed she ever thought she would at all - but speed was a necessity at the time. And she had no regrets.

Nodding to Hattie, she jerked her head in the direction of the door and the girl hurried out like she thought she might be chased.

"Stay on the upper levels, please!" she called after her, receiving a nod in return.

James left after Hattie did, giving only one meaningful nod before he closed the door behind him.

"I'm not sure whether I should congratulate you or be cross with you," Elizabeth confessed.

She looked a bit bedraggled - a battle at sea and a journey to the locker probably did that to a person - but not at all bad. In fact, she seemed to have really come into her own since they last saw each other. That was good. That was as it should have been.

"Crossly congratulate me?" Theo suggested weakly, and was met with a glare "I had to do it. All of it."

"Which is incredibly easy for you to say!" Elizabeth pointed out.

It was starting to look like she was falling on the side of cross rather than congratulatory. Theo was starting to realise the fact that she'd gotten a hug in greeting had been a miracle, and not an indicator of how this reunion would go.

"But it wasn't easy for me to do," Theo insisted, speaking in quiet but intent tones "If I hadn't tricked you and Will where Jack was concerned, you still would have kept Jack on the Pearl, only for real this time without his awareness of the whole gambit, and you and Will would've fallen out over it, all while guilt ate you up! I was trying to save the both of you a whole lot of heartache while I saved Jack!"

"Well Will and I have been falling out over you, and Jack is in the hands of Beckett, so how did that work for you?"

"Jack was in the hands of Beckett, until James and I helped him escape - along with your father, by the way, so you're welcome for that."

Elizabeth opened her mouth to counter with whatever argument she'd been formulating as Theo spoke, but when what she'd actually said to her sank in, her mouth snapped shut and her eyes widened once again.

"You had to go to the locker anyway to retrieve the Pearl, or else you won't stand a bloody chance of winning this thing. I kept my word to Jack that I'd help him by sparing him a few months losing his bloody mind in the locker, I saved your father, and I've been letting Beckett think that I'm on his side so I can try to stop what I've fixed from fucking up everything else," Theo continued, struggling to keep any frustration from her voice "I understand that it all looks bad, but it's not."

"I'd like to take your word, but everything you've done flies in the face of what you're saying!"

"Well soon we're going to get you out of here, and I'd like to think that works in my favour."

It was that admission that sapped a great deal of the fury from Elizabeth's glare, and then the woman looked almost as tired as Theo felt. She walked stiffly towards the bed and sank down to sit on the edge of it, visibly mulling over everything that Theo had just said.

"Why would Will and I have been at odds with one another if I'd have seen to it that Jack remained on the Pearl without your interference? He…he agreed to the plan in the end - Will, I mean. He didn't like it, but he saw the necessity."

Theo sighed. Ordinarily she might've found this highly uncomfortable to explain, but her numbness to her own fear was working wonders for awkwardness, too. It was amazing how mortal danger put things into perspective.

"The way things would have happened - without my interference - goes as follows, as best as I can remember. Everybody would've fended off the kraken as best as they could, but when it disappeared you'd know it was gearing up for a second assault, not completely defeated. So you'd decide to evacuate."

"That is how it happened," Elizabeth interrupted.

"After that," Theo pressed on, talking over the interruption "While everybody else loaded provisions into the lifeboats, you would have seen that the kraken was after Jack - nobody else, just Jack. And if he followed, so would the kraken. So you, personally, would see to it that he didn't. You'd kiss him, and while he was distracted, you'd shackle him to the Pearl."

"I would not-"

"You'd been flirting for a bit before that, so I think you'll find you would," Theo said sternly - and if Elizabeth had doubted her knowledge beforehand, it was clear as she paled a little that she didn't doubt it now.

Surely Elizabeth herself couldn't even deny that the plan sounded very much like her. Theo didn't even judge her for it - women here were raised to think that their looks and their wiles were the best tools in their arsenal. How many times had the woman proven that (or tried to do so, in one notable case) by pretending to faint? Elizabeth might've realised that she had more than that to use, but it didn't mean she wouldn't fall back on it when necessary. And Jack would've been a prime target for that. What man alive wouldn't do anything asked of them after a kiss from Elizabeth Swann?

Theo finally finished her explanation, this time uninterrupted "Will would only see the first half of that, and assume there were feelings involved. That you wanted to rescue Jack not out of guilt, but out of love. Then everything goes to shit."

Leaning forward with her elbows resting on her knees, Elizabeth's gaze lowered as she considered everything she'd just been told, and Theo hovered awkwardly in the middle of the room, not sure if she should be gearing up for yet more arguments, or hopeful that she'd actually believe her.

"You're telling the truth, aren't you?" she murmured finally.

"Yes. The only reason I'm even still here rather than hiding out in Ireland with my husband is to keep the events that see Beckett lose in order. Starting with freeing you."

"And Norrington? He's always been loyal to the Crown, there's no chance that he would-"

"You underestimate him. Any old idiot can see Beckett what he is after five minutes with the man. James is no idiot, and he's spent much longer than five minutes with him."

Another few moments went by, and Theo let them. However, when Elizabeth next spoke, it was all she could do not to start singing hallelujah.

"You've been on our side all along."

Not a question. A realisation.

"What about me ever made you think I'd support Beckett?" Theo snorted quietly, finally sitting down beside her on the bed.

"Nothing, I'd thought it was out of loyalty to Norrington, I don't…" she trailed off, then sighed and continued "The pirates think that you used your powers to trick Jack out of the heart so that you might bring it to Beckett and live a life of luxury."

"Look how well that worked," Theo deadpanned, casting a glance around the damp, dank room in which they sat "Do you think it'll be safe for James and I among them? Would they even give us a chance? Hear us out?"

"You're coming with us?" Elizabeth blinked.

"We have to. Or else it won't end well for us."

"I'm a captain now," Elizabeth replied "If I couldn't keep you safe at Shipwreck Cove, I could at least do so aboard my own ship."

Theo could've cried at how easily they were friends again, but she pressed it back. And anyway, Elizabeth was soon asking another question.

"What do you mean it won't end well for you? Because Beckett will lose? Or will he suspect…? Or have you had one of your visions?"

"All three at once. In escaping with you, I'll be stopping one last terrible thing," Theo admitted.

She was saved from Elizabeth asking for details when the door to the cabin swung open, and James entered appearing more than a little breathless.

"The ship is quietened, this is our chance. Your crew already scales the ship towards Jones' balcony. Come with me, we must move now."

They both blinked at him, Theo's chest clenching while Elizabeth just appeared baffled.

"Quickly," he insisted.

Spurring into action, Theo funnelled her focus into keeping her breathing under control while they rose. They'd barely stepped out of the cabin, though, when she remembered. Hattie. Shit. James was already marching ahead, doing a marvellous job at looking like he wasn't doing anything he should not be, and she knew if she stopped them all, she could very well ruin this. But she couldn't leave Hattie behind. So she made a decision.

Seizing Elizabeth's sleeve, she made sure James had not yet noticed their pause before whispering furiously to her.

"You go on ahead. If I'm not there in time, you need to leave without me. You need to make sure James leaves without me. Do you understand? Knock him overboard if you have to, but he has to go."

"What? He'll never-" Elizabeth was already arguing, aghast at the prospect, but there was no time.

"If he doesn't, he will die," Theo hissed the words, seizing her by the shoulders "Do you hear me? He'll die Elizabeth. Tonight. I can get by if I'm left behind, but I can't get by if that happens. Tell him I said he has to go. Tell him- tell him not to doubt me, okay? Make sure you use that word. He'll understand."

Christ, but she hoped he'd understand. Pushing Elizabeth after James, Theo spun on her heel and began to run in the opposite direction before he had a chance to realise that she was not following him.

The girl - the witch - was up to something. Bootstrap could see it. Anybody could see it if they would only look, but most here had resigned themselves to ignoring her, seeing as they couldn't provoke her without provoking the soldiers. And provoking the soldiers provoked the captain.

When she'd finally realised he'd do naught but pay her no mind, she'd given up. Mostly since then she kept herself to her cabin, save for the occasional turn about the deck. As if the Dutchman had a deck worth turning about. But now? Now she did neither. Now she ran, her face ashen and her hands clenched into fists.

Meandering his way a few steps closer, he listened carefully as she strode up to one of the soldiers, asking intently.

"Gray - have you seen Hattie?" she breathed.

"Whatever's the matter, ma'am?"

"Hattie," she repeated "Where is she? Have you seen her?"

"I believe I saw her go to the level below not a moment ago. Why?"

"I…I know how she gets turned around in this ship pretty easily. I don't want her getting lost, she's not used to the Dutchman yet and might get a fright."

The witch was already taking her leave as she spoke, leaving the lad to call after her.

"Shall I accompany you, Mrs Norrington?"

"No! No - between you n' me, I think she's got a bit of a crush on you. I'd hate for her to get embarrassed if she is upset and you see her that way. Stay where you are, it's fine, I can handle it."

The young soldier was too busy blushing and stammering to offer much of a response. To see her words for what they were. More trickery. But Bootstrap wasn't blushing, nor was he stammering. Bootstrap followed, keeping to the shadows - a trick that served all of the crew well here.

"Hattie," the redhead was greeting now, not calling "Hattie - have you decided?"

She had a blonde lass by the forearms, ignoring the soaked half-washing clothing hanging from the girl's hands.

"I have," she replied in a small, quiet voice.

"And?"

"And…I am. I will."

"Okay," snatching the fabric from the girl's hands, the witch threw it into the tub nearby "We're going now."

"Now?"

"Now. We'll need to go out the porthole if we're not to be noticed, I'll go first, and you follow the exact route I take."

"I can't."

"Hattie, listen to me. You can. I've done it before, and from much further down the ship. But if you don't hurry and come with me now, I'll need to go without you. I don't have a choice, do you understand me?"

"I…yes. Yes. All right. I…Out of this? Are you sure?"

"I'm positive."

The Irishwoman was already halfway out of the porthole as she spoke, speaking to the girl as she used the strength of her arms to slowly lower herself out. The blonde approached, staring doubtfully. She was scared. Visibly scared. So much so that it halted the witch's haste for but a moment, grabbing her hand.

"Your mind will give up a thousand times before your body does. If you don't think you will fall, you will not fall. All right? I won't let you fall. But we have to hurry."

It was sound advice. Damn good advice. Even Bootstrap could acknowledge that through his suspicion and his hatred. But that acknowledgement was quickly muddied - because he'd seen the woman do this before - climbing out of the ship and disappearing. And this time he couldn't let her. Not if there was even the slightest chance that she might go out there and inflict her ill-will on his son.

Bootstrap began to move.

Theodora was not here. James liked to think of himself as calm and collected under difficult circumstances, but he was having a difficult time remaining that way thanks to that one fact. The only things that kept him from turning around and dragging her along with him the moment he'd noticed her absence were the words that Elizabeth had spoken upon seeing the shock and dismay on his face.

"She said she'll catch up with us - that we must press ahead, and that you mustn't doubt her."

And so he had not. It was difficult, but he'd done it. Mostly because part of him had expected to swing his legs across the rail of the balcony to find her already there and waiting, a teasing smile and a clever comment already on her lips. Instead, he had only found Elizabeth's crew.

Further and further downwards his heart sank as one by one the crew members climbed up onto the rope which the Dutchman used to tow the Empress. With each one that passed by he said the same thing to himself - the next one. She would appear as the next one climbed up onto the rope. And still, she did not. Until there was only Elizabeth and himself left. James cursed softly under his breath. Whatever was keeping her, it did not matter. She would not be left behind - not ever, and especially not here, nor with Beckett.

"You must go," he said sharply to Elizabeth "It's only a matter of time before we are discovered. If Theodora arrives as you climb, we will follow. If not, then I shall cut the rope once you're across."

"No - no, James, you have to come with us. Theo said so - she said if she wasn't here, you should go without her, and that she'd be fine."

"No," he said sternly "I will not abandon her thus. Go."

"She said not to doubt her."

"I do not care what she said, I'm not leaving her here with all the excuse Beckett needs to see her harmed."

Elizabeth seemed to have no intention of hearing him.

"James, you have to come with us. Please - please come with us."

"Elizabeth," he took her by the arm, pulling her gently in the direction of the rail "You must go."

He was not the only one who was agitated. Elizabeth could hardly appear to keep still, gazing about with wide eyes and fidgeting, shifting constantly back and forth from one foot to the other. But she made no move to obey his instruction. Looking to the same corner he kept praying that Theodora might materialise around, she frowned with great worry, panic even, before looking up at him, clinging to the same arm that he'd just tried to guide her away with. And then the panic left her face, replaced by a realisation - like she'd just had an idea.

James barely had time to question it, before she was seizing his face in her hands and pressing her lips against his.

The climb along the ship was worse by the dark of night, and it was sheer hell under a time crunch, and wearing a corset. The damn thing cut into her with every move she made, not suited to climbing, but at least she wasn't in Hattie's position of wearing that and skirts. Hattie, at least, seemed to have pulled herself together. It didn't really surprise Theo - the fear was at its worst before doing the thing. Now that she was climbing, she had to focus on doing so properly if she wanted to survive, so there was no room to panic about it. The girl's body seemed to know that on some subconscious level, even if she mightn't have been able to articulate the thought process.

And Theo's fear? Theo's fear was trying to return, but only because of this setback. But it would be fine. She was moving fairly quickly, barely even registering it when her boots slid against the slick algae-ridden wood of the Dutchman in favour of pushing on. When she first slipped out of the window, she'd noticed Elizabeth climbing along the side right at the very end, just about to turn the corner to the ship's stern. She wasn't too far behind, it was fine, she could make it. Plus, she hadn't even seen Bootstrap yet. Maybe he hadn't noticed any of this. Maybe he wouldn't appear at all.

When she was mere feet away from the corner that would take her to Jones' balcony, hope soared within her. She could even hear voices - those of James and Elizabeth, although she couldn't make out what they said above the waves that crashed against the sides of the ship. Turning her head for a moment, she noted Hattie not even lagging behind her, lips pressed into a thin determined line and making better progress than she could've hoped for when she'd told the girl to follow her for this climb. Theo had to fight back a smile. This was working. This was going to work.

No shouts had rung through the air, and no shots had followed, and - even better - there was no screaming to punctuate any of it. All of this was more than enough to have her breathing a sigh of relief when her hand finally gripped onto the ornate, warped rail of Jones' balcony and used it to leverage her turn around the corner. In fact, she almost bloody well laughed.

Until she saw what she did. And then it felt like everything within her sagged. James and Elizabeth, their lips locked.

It was almost funny. Almost. In a sick, horrible way. All of the nightmares she had of this part of the fictional version of events coming true never included this. Even her nightmares rendered this too absurd, too unbelievable. Her boots thudded down onto the deck. She only knew it because she heard them, not because she could feel her legs beneath her. It was impossible to feel much of anything at all, not beyond a dull ache deep within her.

Oh.

The noise had been enough to announce her presence, James' eyes widening in horror as he immediately shoved Elizabeth away. She stumbled, and then joined in the staring.

"Theodora," he breathed.

"It wasn't-" Elizabeth tried to say, but he interrupted her.

"Go!" he snapped.

She obeyed. Theo continued to stare. She wasn't sure she was capable of doing much else, feeling stricken as he stepped towards her.

"It wasn't- it wasn't that," he was saying.

He was telling the truth. She was sure he was. Gods above, how she prayed that he was. Even in her shock, she could faintly register that if it was a lie, it flew in the face of everything she'd known of him since the day they'd met. But fuck, did it still hurt.

"Go," she said quietly - and that took no small amount of effort.

"What?"

"Go. You need to go," her voice sounded odd to her own ears.

She tried to walk in the direction of the rope, hoping to herd him towards it, but he did not move.

"I will - we will - but not until you listen to me, Theodora," he urged, voice softening in a way that had her insides twisting up as he continued "Not until you look at me."

Tears were filling her eyes and she didn't know why. Nor why she couldn't look at him. Because he was telling the truth, wasn't he? He had to be telling the truth. She knew he was. Whatever it was, it couldn't have been what it appeared to be. Maybe it was a goodbye. A moment of curiosity. As if that wouldn't sting just as badly. As if that was anything close to what James might ever do. She was vaguely aware of the sound of Hattie slumping down onto the balcony behind her.

And then she was very aware of a voice ringing out.

"Who goes there?" Bootstrap's rasp filled the air.

No. No, no, no. James moved to straighten, alert at the new threat, and there was only one thing Theo could do. Something that had served her well before, back on their secret beach, during the last bit of peace they'd gotten.

Straightening along with him, she cupped his jaw and pulled him in for a kiss, finally looking at him for a split second before she did so. A tear slid down her face as she did, hot against her cheek, even as she kissed him with all that she had. Like it was even possible to pour that much pure and utter love into a single kiss. And yet he returned it with the same vigour. So much so that he didn't notice how she hooked one leg around the back of his when she stepped closer, and then drove her hip into his, turning into the step to send him off balance. He scrambled for a moment, wide eyes meeting hers, and then he went tumbling down into the water below.

He never had been able to get the hang of countering that move.

"Hattie, you need to jump," Theo said sharply.

Her voice shook as she did, blinking away the tears furiously and pretending her chest didn't feel like it was pulling itself apart so that she could turn her gaze upwards.

The rope connecting the two ships was high. Stupidly fucking high, even for James' height. How on earth had he reached it so that he might sever it? Surely his sword couldn't- oh. Shit. He'd used his gun, hadn't he? The gun that was now in the water below, with him as he shouted up to her. She couldn't make out the words above the pounding of her heart. She couldn't even hear what Hattie was saying to her.

And then Bootstrap walked out onto the balcony. Theo drew her sword at the same time he did his. She could disarm him - she was certain she could. And Will had his knife, so that would leave him unarmed. It almost sounded simple - disarm, slash, jump. She could do that.

"Hattie, jump!" she demanded again.

Too busy to check to see if the girl had listened to her, she charged at Bill before he could gain his bearings, rushing at him with her sword. It was too heavy for her, but that was another upside of the numbness. Hazy and off-kilter as he was, disarming him was easy. Too easy, she'd later realise. The hilt of her sword bashed against his, and then she brought both hands to the grip to twist it out of his grasp. It clattered to the floor, and she kicked it between the balcony rails, sending it flying down into the water.

Getting some distance between them so she could bodily kick him back, she used the time that gained her to leap up onto the rail and swing her sword desperately above her to the rope. James, reliable to a heart-wrenching fault, always kept his blades well sharpened. It cut through the rope like it was mere string, and she was rewarded with the cries of those still climbing as they hurtled down into the water, too.

Heart pounding wildly in her chest until she was sure it would burst forth, Theo turned, hopping back down to the floor of the balcony, ready to bodily throw Hattie into the water if that was what it took…and then she was hurtled right into Bootstrap's knife. It took her a moment to realise it was his knife, sticking right out of her lower abdomen. At first she only felt the impact - like a punch to the gut. And it couldn't have been a knife, could it? Because Will had his knife. In disposing of his sword she'd left him unarmed, this couldn't…

And then blood began to bloom out of her shirt. Not much - not as much as there should have been. Surely there should have been more, right? Dumbly, she lifted a had towards the hilt of the knife and then stopped. No, she should leave it in. Leaving it in was important.

Someone was screaming, she noted dully as she stared down at her middle. Hattie - it was Hattie. It looked like she hadn't jumped after all. She pieced that together as Bootstrap stepped back and her legs buckled beneath her. More joined Hattie then - cries of her name, one from Elizabeth and another much too deep to be either woman, but filled with sheer and utter terror of the like she'd never heard before. James. It was James. She tried to turn her head to look, wondering if maybe she could still drag herself over the balcony, but if her neck wouldn't obey, her limbs certainly would not.

Pain began to slowly blossom, seeping in through the shock, but she was saved from feeling it properly as the world around her began to tilt and dim. The screaming continued, fading away only long enough to leave room for one coherent thought before she blacked out. She'd succeeded. She'd done it.

A/N: Oh god, oh fuck, it's Davy Jones with the steel chair.

Read this before you hate me lolol. I have been soooo scared of posting this fucking chapter. Literally since I started writing this story. This scene is the scene I've had in mind since starting. This was the big bad. I feel like it's going to be divisive. I feel like some people are going to absolutely fucking hate it - but if you don't like it, all I ask is that you wait and see what I do in the next couple of chapters. Theo's immediate doubts, emotional reaction aside, should show we're not going back to the days of "lord why does this man love Elizabeth over me", I promise. That would be tiring.

Finally, a bit of fair warning, the next few chapters gon' get real angsty, sad, and pretty dark at times. I'll put relevant warnings in the notes beforehand without trying to spoil too much, but…uh…we've come a long way from Theo teaching Jack rebel tunes.