Disclaimer: I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean! But if I did, Jack would not be Elizabeth's! He would be MINE!

A/N: I have something to say.

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Chapter 14, We Wait

Captain Jack Sparrow

The way he said he missed me didn't make me 'doubt' it. It completely convinced me he was utterly and completely unhappy to see me. The kind of unhappy I am when I'm out of rum. Damn…now I'm thirsty. I was to him like the man who drank all the rum was to me. And it is not a happy sight when I find that person alone.

"What's wrong, Jack? All out of 'ellos for yer own father?"

"Hello." Well, it was what he asked for. I turned on my heel, trotted across the room, and sat down on a rickety old rocking chair. Elizabeth squirmed on the floor. I looked away from her; something inside of me hurt when I watched her. I probably had indigestion.

"I 'eard ye be in the belly of some 'orrible beast, Jack. Tell yer good ol' Dad how ye managed to escape, and I might tell ye why I've come back."

"He had a bad case of heartburn. And I don't care why you came back. You left. That's all that matters in my opinion."

"Ye know why I left, Jack. Don't tell me you been makin' me out to be some wicked sod to yer crew!" he turned to them, and they shuddered in fear. Who wouldn't? I'd always told them he was dead. "Anythin' he's ever said is a lie!"

"We…figured that out…" said Pintel.

"Good. I won't be havin' anyone sayin' I ain't a good man. I'm a good man, I am…" he turned back to me, a smirk on his face. "Ye look like me, ye know." He turned to Tia Dalma. "The spittin' image, 'e is!" He seemed proud of it for a moment, but then his smile faded away.

"So…now that we've caught up on how Not-So-Little Jack escaped from the Kraken, I should think you wouldn't mind telling me how you got off Davy Jones' ship?" I asked with an identical smirk.

"'ad to, Jack. Even though we ain't been the sort to get along, I 'ad to come and warn ye, afore it was too late. He's comin' for ye, Jack. Won't be long, now."

"'old off there, just a minute!" Barbossa interjected. He turned to my father. "'ow the bloody hell did you end up on Davy Jones' ship?"

My father smiled. Looked like the dead, he did. Him and Barbossa would get along like old chums, since both of them were mutinous bastards. Both of them had a thing for leaving me alone somewhere. I hated them for it.

"Two years ago I came across 'is ship while I was tradin' in the Far East. Took it down, 'e did. Took it down. Would've taken me with it if I 'adn't joined 'im. And he put me to work soon as he captured me. In two years, I got thirty lashes and I gots the scars to prove it!" The crew, my crew, was gathering around this man to hear his tale, their eyes full of admiration and wonder. I thought I was going to be sick.

"But 'ow did you escape? Davy Jones'd have to die 'fore he'd give up a slave!" Pintel said happily.

"Not true! With all them noses on his slimy face, methinks one cold would do him in!" Ragetti said, and he and Pintel laughed. With tears pouring out of his eyes, Ragetti asked, "No, really, how'd you get off the ship?"

"Jones died," my father said, matter-of-factly. He reached over to Tia Dalma's table, picked up a mug of something, and downed it in one gulp. Ragetti and Pintel ceased laughing immediately and only stared at him. I stared at him for a different reason. I wondered what was in that cup. Better not be rum.

"What do ye mean, 'e died? Just…capoof…just like that?" I ignored him. I was sneaking over to the table as quietly as possible. I picked up the cup and put it to my lips, still not listening to that idiots insane story. The liquid filled my mouth and I sighed. Rum!

"No. 'e was murdered, 'e was. By Captain Sao Feng of the Royal Navy." Precious rum spewed out of my mouth. I stared open-mouthed at him, wondering what on earth made him think my crew would believe such an outlandish tale. They weren't that stupid!

"Wow. I didn't know 'e was in the navy! That's why he weren't poor and wore such fancy clothes!" Ragetti exclaimed.

Okay, maybe they were a little bit stupid. But they saved me money; they couldn't count the wages I gave them, so they didn't know that I kept a little for myself.

"How did he kill him?" Will asked, holding Elizabeth's hand; she'd calmed down and was now resting quietly at his feet.

"A stab through the 'eart. Ya see, a man named Norrington stole the heart and was gonna give it to a Lord Cutler Beckett, whose plan was to threaten Jones with it, to get him to rid the seas of pirates. But then Feng shows up, and he's got 'imself a higher rank than that Norrington. So he sets Norrington up, see, and gets him 'anged for the death of some woman he dreamed up, before the poor man can give Beckett the 'eart! So Feng steals it, cuts out Norrington's heart in the dead of night before 'e's buried, and gives it to Beckett instead. And so Beckett sailed off to Tortuga with the heart where Feng said Beckett could meet Davy Jones." My father stopped to take a breath and scratched his head full of dark hair. It was so quiet, I could hear his nails raking against his scalp.

"Well? Who did he meet? Was it Jones or Feng?" Ragetti asked urgently.

"Feng." The storyteller smiled. "And Jones walked right off the ship to the dock, scurried up his little bit of sand and cut Beckett's head clear off!" At saying his, he drew his hand against his neck and made a slicing noise. Ragetti and Pintel winced.

I caught up on something I hadn't before, and found myself as giddy as ever. I'd prove him wrong. I'd prove that he was a liar and that he was fibbing through his teeth. I smiled.

"He's lying, making it all up off the top of his head," I said coolly.

"Oh? And what makes you think that, Jack?" he asked me, smiling much the same way. But I had the crew's attention; they all turned to look at me.

"Jones can't go on land but every ten years. It wasn't time for him yet. So it's impossible that he stepped ashore and killed Beckett. And before, you said Beckett met Feng at the dock, and that said Beckett did not meet said Jones. So you're lying." I smiled again; the crew turned, mouths open and wide-eyed, to the other man that looked like me, as though demanding an explanation with their expressions.

But he still smiled. He still looked cocky and sure in himself. I began to wonder if maybe he wasn't lying, but I couldn't admit that out loud, because I'd just accused him of doing so, and to admit it aloud would be to confess my total stupidity and thickheadedness, which as Captain Jack Sparrow, I would never do so long as dead monkeys walked the earth. Period.

"Beckett did meet Feng, 'e did. But 'e didn't know it."

"What the bloody hell are you blatherin' on about, old man?" Barbossa asked, looking confused. Haha. Barbossa feels dumb.

"Do you even know what Feng is?"

"No…I'd always thought he were human. With pointy teeth, to be sure, and foul as they get, but still human," Barbossa said, looking even more stupid. I liked it.

"He's far from human, mate. He's…" he leaned in, trying to draw the crew in further. It worked. He spoke in a hurried whisper. "…a demon. Can take the form of anyone after 'e kills 'em, even Jones!" he smiled wickedly. What rubbish.

"Aye, mate. That may be true," I said, smiling at him again, knowing for sure that this time, he couldn't prove me wrong. "But back on the island after the Pearl sank, I saw Feng…and Jones. Together. At the same time. And if Feng killed Jones before he stole the heart from Norrington, Jones would have been dead long before that. So how could Feng be himself and dear old Davy at the same time? You must think I'm drunk," I said. For a moment, I wished I was.

"Jack, Jack, Jack. Never were one to trust too easy!"

"How would you know? You left when I was barely two years old." I made sure he caught the anger in my voice. But he only grinned at me.

"Jones was dead when you saw 'im on the island with Feng," he began again, changing the subject, "'e'd been dead long afore that. Feng can be in two places at once, dependin' on how much blood he gets. And…'e's completely poisonous, too. One single bite or drop of 'is blood can damn ye to an eternity of fiery torment…after it kills ye, painfully. He controls ye, because he's inside of ye. A demon, he is. "

For nearly ten seconds, it was so quiet I could hear the people up in heaven drinking rum and playing limbo. Lucky bastards. But then everyone burst into laughter, with the exception of my father. Pintel spoke up first.

"That's such a load of sh--"

"Shhh! She's wakin' up! Look!" Tia Dalma pointed frantically at Elizabeth. She sat up, the sweat gone from her face. She was still deathly pale, and her eyes had dark, purple circles around them. Her lips were white as well, and looked as hard as stone. So unlike the ones I'd tasted on the Pearl.

I froze, as did Will and everyone else. She turned her head slowly, looking carefully from one person to another as if in a trance. Then she dropped her head and an otherworldly growl escaped her throat. I watched with horror as Willy's eyes opened in shock.

"E…lizabeth…?" he asked, coming forward again; he'd backed up at the sight of her. He stretched out one hand to touch her cheek.

Snapping her jaw and teeth at his outstretched hand, Elizabeth hissed. Her face was turned downward, but her eyes glared up at him. They weren't brown, they weren't her eyes. They were cold, black eyes, like the eyes of a shark that smells blood and knows exactly where its prey lay dying.

Will jerked back, nearly falling on his backside. Barbossa inserted his hands under Will's arms and helped him stand; Will was still staring at Elizabeth, kicking his feet to escape her.

Elizabeth smiled. But it wasn't her smile. It was evil, sick, twisted. Then her head straightened back up again and she began to stand, never taking her eyes off the lot of us. Once on her feet, the smile still in place, she turned her gaze slowly around us again, something excited and completely foreign to me in her eyes. The eyes looked familiar…and I felt sick.

"But I'm not drunk. Or maybe I am, and that explains it all. Oh, yes. Or it's all a dream. I'm sleeping in my hammock on the Pearl. And there are no icky shark men possessing Elizabeth, no long-lost fathers reappearing, and there is definitely rum. Somewhere." I thought, suddenly wishing to crawl under a rock and die.

"Jack…Jack…" her voice startled me out of my dream world. I looked up at her, surprised that she would call out to me, of all people. But I was Captain Jack Sparrow. Of course she'd call out my name. Probably louder in other circumstances.

All the others in the room turned to look curiously at me. I didn't turn my head, but my eyes glanced at all of them: Pintel and Ragetti stared open-mouthed; Barbossa took a bite out of an apple; Tia Dalma's eyebrows rose considerably, her eyes sparkling with something more than knowledge; Will looked at me with absolute hatred and I thought for a moment that he was going to hit me. I bit my lip…then I thought up a plan.

"Er…ha! Why are you all looking at me like that? Didn't you hear? 'Jack' is the new name for 'William Turner.' Yep." They didn't look convinced. "Well…obviously Lizzie here has heard it! It's…quite clear, actually…" Not the best plan.

Elizabeth's gaze suddenly locked on me. Her eyes widened for a moment, and I saw a brown color edging at the black of her eyes. Then, I realized where I'd seen those black eyes before. They were the eyes of the man with the sharp, deadly teeth…and he was inside Elizabeth. For a moment, her eyes were brown again, and the color began to return to her cheeks. Her mouth opened wide, and she cried out, falling to her knees.

"JACK!" she screamed, her voice choked with pain. Without even thinking, I dropped to my knees beside her. She lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. Her body was twitching, flailing, and she clutched her stomach in pain. She jerked so fiercely that it was difficult to get near her. But I finally grabbed her head and held it as still as I could.

"Get her legs, Jack! Her legs!" Tia Dalma screeched, falling to the floor beside us. In her hands, she held the brown bowl full of the horrible-smelling liquid. I crinkled my nose at it as Will, Pintel, and Ragetti all fell to the floor with us. Barbossa continued to eat his apple, quite indifferent to it all. Ragetti closed his eyes and began praying. My father stood back, taking in the scene with a glare that told me he was surprised at her reaction at all.

Will quickly took over for me and held down Elizabeth's legs, but she was fighting back. She screamed in pain, so loudly it hurt my ears. I felt my own heart burning as tears of pain poured from her eyes. She was fighting him.

"FIGHT, ELIZABETH! FIGHT HIM!" Tia Dalma screamed, stirring the liquid fiercely. I could barely believe it all. "Jack!" she blurted out, not stopping her quick stirring to look up at me, urgency in her face. "Now…she'll bleed. Cut her now, Jack. We need it. If we don't have it now, it won't work."

I couldn't believe it. She was asking me to cut her. And she was already in so much pain. I reached down and felt the knife in my boot.

"NOW, JACK! NOW!" Will screamed. His face was frantic, his voice cracking, beginning to lose hope. He was willing to do anything to save her. I actually felt sorry for the poor eunuch.

Slowly, I withdrew the knife, internally steeling myself for what would come next.

"JACK!" Tia Dalma screamed. I grasped Elizabeth's hand, which was finally warm, in my own. I pressed the blade to her palm, but did not draw it across. My arm didn't work. It fell numb and useless.

"What are you doing? We don't have time for this! Do it or she dies!" Tia Dalma began to reach for the knife, to take it from me, to do it herself. But I absolutely would not let her. If anyone was going to cut her, I was going to be the one to do it.

Quickly, closing my eyes, I jerked the knife across Elizabeth's palm. She screamed again, and her eyes glared up at me in horror at what I'd just done. But she seemed to forget it in the much fiercer pain in her stomach. She thrashed around, and Will was having trouble holding her. Tia Dalma reached down and grabbed Elizabeth's hand; blood was surfacing quickly and began to pour down her wrist and forearm. Holding her hand over the bowl, a modicum of crimson drops, two or three at the most, spilled into Tia Dalma's concoction.

I looked down at Elizabeth's eyes and saw them shining with tears and pain and it broke me. Before I could think, and before I could remember that her fiancé was still in the room as well as many others, I bent down and kissed her lips. Her screaming ceased, but she whimpered, still feeling pain inside of her. Her lips felt soft again, and quivered beneath mine. I moved my lips against hers infinitesimally, so slightly that I barely knew I was doing it.

Then an unexpected thing happened. Elizabeth's teeth bit down—hard—on my top lip. I felt the pain immediately and tasted blood. Jerking back and crying out, I covered my mouth with my hand. I looked at Elizabeth, who was thrashing again, but rather weakly; her eyes were turning black again.

"We have to do it now." Tia Dalma stirred the contents of the bowl a few more times and then reached above her to the surface of her table and grabbed a vial. Faster than I'd ever seen anyone move, she scooped a bit of the brownish mixture into the vial. She threw the bowl down, forgetting it.

Elizabeth was barely moving now; she only half-swatted at my arm, since I was still holding her head. Tia Dalma put the vial to Elizabeth's partially opened lips, turned it up, and emptied it into her mouth. Elizabeth's eyebrows furrowed at the taste; I could only hope it didn't taste as bad as it smelled. But finally, she swallowed it. Tia Dalma sat back, took a deep breath, and sighed. Elizabeth did not move again.

"What now?" I asked, looking down into her eyes. She reached up and grabbed my hand, which was just behind her ear, holding her head in my lap.

"We…wait. It either works…or it doesn't. There's no in-between," Tia Dalma said quietly, not half as excited or as urgent sounding as she had been before. She sounded resigned, hopeless. Elizabeth tugged on my hand and I looked down into her eyes again; the brown color was fading.

"Jack…" she whispered. I thought I saw Will flinch out of the corner of my eye. He backed away from us, and sat heavily down on the floor, his head in his hands. He was completely exhausted from the previous fight to hold down the possessed woman.

"What is it, love?" I asked just as quietly, putting my face down near to hers. I was upside-down to her, my eyes level with her lips. She smiled weakly at me, her hair falling about her shoulders.

"I can't win this, Jack. It's over." My own smile faded.

"It's not over, Lizzie. It's barely begun. You're far stronger than any other woman. You'll win this, I promise!"

"Pirate," she said, her eyes misting over. "Always making promises you can't keep and saying things you don't mean." She raised her hand up to my head and touched my cheekbone softly.

The room was completely quiet; everyone was staring at us, completely shocked at the sudden slowness everything had taken. It was eerie.

"Aye, love, but this time I mean it. If I ever meant anything, I mean that. Or I'm not Captain Jack Sparrow!" I said, my voice cracking against my will at the end.

Her hand snaked its way behind my neck, knotting in my hair. She drew my face down to hers; I had to help her a bit, since she was very weak and could barely lift her own arm.

"That you are. You are Captain Jack Sparrow. So I guess I will win, just like you said, because you would not lie about such a thing and risk your title," she whispered in my ear. I grinned; she knew me well.

Leaning down farther, I kissed her nose. I heard Will shift near us.

"Jack?" she asked, even more softly. Her voice was fading; her eyes began to close. My heart sped up at the sight.

"Yes, love?" I asked eagerly, hoping to get her to open her eyes again.

"I love you, Jack Sparrow."

I swallowed hard. I'd never said I loved her, but she'd told me countless times. And now, she was fading, dying, and this could be my last chance. I moved my lips farther upward and kissed her forehead.

"I love you too, Elizabeth Swann."

I looked up at her, hoping she'd woken up, hoping she'd cry and say she'd been waiting for me to say as much, or at least slap me and tell me she'd been joking, that she wasn't sick, that it was all a game. I'd forgive her…I couldn't stay mad at her long.

But as soon as the words escaped my mouth, the words I should have said the first moment I met her because I felt it even then…as soon as I said, "I love you too, Elizabeth Swann," and looked down at her face, I could tell. I knew.

She was gone.

End Chapter

Aw. Sad, huh? But…that's not the end! Review and stay tuned (if that works for stories as well as TV) for the next installment…maybe she's not as "gone" as she seems, eh?