Many thanks to reviewers master of time, Nicole Kazan, AKA Parfait, WillsElizabeth23, lynxlan, willabeth0906, and Telcontar Rulz! You make me so happy!!

And here's a bit of what you've all been waiting for. :)

Chapter 21: Love and Hate

"Sparrow! You led them here, didn't you?" Jones roared, pushing Isaly out of his path of destruction.

"Nah, mate," Jack held his hands up in an innocent expression. "I didn' tell them anything. You're the one who has the yellow-bellied mole."

"Men to stations!" Came a far off shout.

Henry's eyes flicked to the origin of the sound and though he couldn't see the man himself it was clear that he knew that crisp accent had to be British. "And now they come," he snarled. "But I'm not going to be the only one they find." His black eyes fell ominously on the Pearl's crew.

Will summoned from the last dregs of his newfound strength and careened up the hill, flinching as another hut was swallowed up in sting of gunpowder and flame. The flame flickered quietly for a several moments before the torrents of rain snuffed it out.

Keeping low, they had picked their way halfway up the treacherous town and it appeared as though the British troops had been at their heels the entire time.

The incline had led up fairly smoothly at first but as the town deepened the hills became sharper and they began to slip more and more often on the soaked cobblestones.

At first, Will had been able to help them stand again but now it was all he could do to remain on his feet. They were all battered with bruises and scrapes from a few nasty falls but stumbled ahead doggedly.

He tightened his grasp on the dull cutlass in his hand, determined not to lose the only hope of escape if it should come to confrontation. The weapon had been discarded by some loafer on an empty street a while back and Will had taken it, hoping there would be no need for it but knowing all the same in his gut that he would, in fact, need to make use of it before the day was through with them.

A flash of red ahead sent them lurching to a halt and spinning down another passage. The redcoats were everywhere, spreading across the place like venom and if they did not tread carefully that venom would consume them as well.

Elizabeth stepped outside the tavern, near passing out and gasping for clean air. Jones' men had already rushed out to meet the flow of redcoats.

She held her pistol loosely in one hand while the other stroked her belly. Her child within was restless, as if it could sense the turmoil outside of its comfortable home. A cutlass had strapped to her side as a precaution before they left but now there was a serious threat that she might have to use the blade.

It did not frighten her to fight, however, it did frighten her to fight without Will. He had always been there before. He was the reassurance she needed.

Anger tamped down on the desperate thoughts. No, she did not need Will. She was a strong woman who could defend herself. But at the back of her mind the nagging remained.

She was about to follow after the men when a woman's cry caught her attention.

"Will!"

Her feet were suddenly flying down the streets, eyes hard and cold, Jones' men and defending herself forgotten. Will was here…and he had some answering to do.

With a last swipe the redcoat slumped to the floor, and Will sagged to his knees to catch a few deep breaths. The sisters stood to the side, armed with various miscellaneous items, shaking with fright at the sight of the man that had almost taken all of their lives.

He had been on the verge of lighting a grenade and only their cry of Will's name brought the blacksmith's attention to the new threat.

"Go farther up," Will flapped a hand at them, "the street."

"But-"

"I'll catch up…" he wheezed for air that seemed far too thin. "I just need a moment."

Reluctant to leave their protector but unwilling to remain there, they turned and disappeared up an alleyway.

Placing his palms on the smooth flagstones once they were past sight, Will collected his energy, readying himself for the strenuous mad dashes that were sure to come.

The click of a gun's hammer straightened his back sharply. Cold metal tickled his ear, just above his jaw.

The heated rush of disappointment and frustration filled his belly as he prepared himself for the beating and harsh bonds sure to follow. Hawthorne would certainly enjoy this development, he couldn't help thinking morbidly.

But no ropes or chains fell about his wrists.

No voice ordered him to lie on the ground.

No boot slammed into his back.

No fist struck him across temple.

There was no indication that a person was even there save for the metal caressing his jugular.

When the latest hazard continued to do nothing, Will began to edge for his sword resting on the stones in front of him. If they would not take him into captivity while they had the chance he was going to take that same chance to strip the idea of imprisonment away.

"Don't, Will."

Will froze but not at the command. It was something entirely different…that voice. He knew that voice. He'd know it anywhere, in any company. That was the voice that spoke to him in his dreams, both taunting and comforting him. "Elizabeth," he forced out from lungs that seemed to have lost all their air.

"You liar!" the gun shook as if she was resisting the urge to strike him, "How could you say my name like that? After what you've done!"

Initially, Will was shocked but the shock began to freeze over in anger. "What exactly have I done, Elizabeth? You have yet to tell me!" He turned, blatantly ignoring the firearm in his face.

"Your innocent act means nothing, Will! The least you could do is come out and have the decency to tell your wife that you no longer care for her!"

Will grasped the gun and wrenched it away, sending it clattering to the cobblestones. "What are you talking about?!"

"Even still you pretend to know nothing. Stop being childish! Tell me to my face if you have the courage!" Hot, angry tears choked her words but she continued doggedly. "Why did you marry me if all you were going to do was leave me? Is your heart truly so black? Was it for my dowry? Was it the prestige? Was it some stupid bet with Sparrow-"

"Elizabeth! I married you because I loved you!" Will leapt to his feet, the move sending pain up his back and startling Elizabeth into drawing her sword.

"Stay away from me!"

"Elizabeth, what has gotten into you?"

"You still don't get it, do you? You left me, Will! Left me and my child!" Elizabeth spat the words out. "You left us when we needed you the most!"

"I did not leave of my own accord!"

"That does not excuse it!" Elizabeth's blade swung down and Will only barely managed to lift his in time.

"Then what does?!"

"You never tried to come back! You never wrote! I knew nothing! I heard nothing! I was left to worry, night after night after night!" Her throat constricted and she launched another blow to Will's left side, despising him for her wretchedness.

He caught her weapon easily with his own, fury lancing down his limbs like a strength giving fire. "I tried every day to return to you! And each time I failed it was as if I had a knife plunged through my heart!"

Her vehemence faltered for a moment. But only moment and then it came at him again, stronger than ever. "How can I believe that?! After Cotton I cannot believe a word you say! Because you are a bloodthirsty traitor who murders his friends!"

Will's surprise was so complete at the accusation that the next blow came almost too quickly for him to block.

"Who was going to be next? Marty? Jack?"

"You thought that I-"

"What else was I to think?" The blades clashed again, tangling in a lock and bringing their faces close.

"Elizabeth! I did not kill Cotton! I was trying to save him but I wasn't quick enough!"

"Then what about them?"

"Who?"

"Them. Their involvement in this is not so easily forgotten." She growled. "You didn't think I'd overlook their attachment, did you?"

"Elizabeth! Blast it! Who is them?!"

"Your women."

Will shook her blade off. "I don't have women, Elizabeth! You are the one and only woman in my life! I thought you knew that. Do you truly have so little trust in me?" The last sentence was soft. A striking contrast to the heated volume the conversation had been immersed in. "I love you…I always have."

Elizabeth's eyes washed over in tears but she forced them back stoically. "You lie!" She threw one last blow, compounding all her hate and misery into the powerful strike.

The blow caught Will unprepared and the last of his strength crumbled. He was simply too weary, too short of breath, in too much pain. He stumbled back, slamming into the side of a shabby house and crumpling to the floor, holding his ribs.

Pounding filled his ears and his back felt as if hot oil had been doused across the wounds. Pain past what he thought possible spilled over his senses, drowning him in agony.

The first thing he could make out past the pain was something warm and wet landing on his cheeks, a soothing contrast to the patter of rain. The second was a set of smooth hands caressing his face. The third was a soft voice, trembling with emotions.

"Will, Will, I'm so sorry. Please, I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean it. I love you." The words rushed past his ears in a blur. "I didn't mean it…please."

TBC...