"Miss Swann. Mister Turner," their manservant, Edmund, strode into their open bedroom door.

"What time is it?" Will's muffled voice came from the pillow.

"Sir, it is almost time for breakfast," Edmund said. He stated, "You have overslept."

"How may we help you?" Elizabeth asked. She threw on her robe. Her eyes tried to adjust to the light as Edmund moved the heavy draperies to the side.

"Helping you is my job Miss Swann," Edmund said with a smile. He didn't like being informal with the head of the house. "There is a Mister and Misses Prewett here to see you."

"Prewett? I'm afraid I don't recall them," Elizabeth said distractedly.

"Shall I escort them to the front door?"

"No," Elizabeth said slowly. She looked out the window and saw that it started to rain heavily. "Breakfast you said? Perhaps they would like to join us."

"Shall I wake up your guest?"

'Guest?" Elizabeth thought. Her mind wasn't as awakes her body was. "Oh you mean Jack. No, let him rest."

"Miss?"

"It is better if we have Jack Sparrow sleeping. I like a quiet breakfast," Elizabeth said though that was just one of the reasons why she wanted the pirate getting his rest.

"Will that be all?" Edmund asked deadpanned.

"No, sorry to keep you waiting," Elizabeth said earnestly.

Edmund did a little bow and left. Maids entered from where he exited. They politely ushered the still sleepy Will out the door so that they can dress their mistress.

"Sorry to have kept you waiting," Elizabeth said after the maids have finished with her.

"Not at all Miss?" an man in his mid-thirties extended his hand to her. He had red hair, freckles, and skin that were pale in contrast to Elizabeth's fair skin. He stood up from the chair that he was sitting on.

"Swann," Elizabeth said giving her hand to the man. She was surprised when he just shook it as if he were shaking hands with a man. "Please help yourselves to tea and biscuits."

"Oh thank you. Miss Swann I was just telling Mister Swann - "

"He would be Turner." "I'm Turner." Elizabeth and Will said at the same time trying to correct Will's last name.

The man looked at the ground and his face turned red in embarrassment. "Sorry."

"It's all right," Elizabeth and Will said at the same time. They looked at each other with a smile.

"You're not married?" a woman behind him asked. She also appeared to be in her mid-thirties and had pale skin like the man next to her, but she had brown bushy hair and no freckles.

"We were supposed to be married two years ago. We were also married on a ship a year ago by a captain, but there was a certain problem. We were going to get married here again, but our plans have changed. But we needn't be married to know that we love each other," Elizabeth said smiling sadly.

"They say three is the magic number," the woman said. "But where are our manners? I'm Hermione Prewett, this is my husband Ron Prewett, and these are our children Philip and Endora," she pointed to them as she said their names. The children looked more like the father than the mother with their flaming red hair and pale skin.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," Will said.

"Yes," Elizabeth said nodding. Something inside Elizabeth knew that something big was going to happen and she felt a little untrustworthy of having strangers in her home. Something strange is going on, as if they were spelled by something. She remembered something. "Please would you care to join us for breakfast?"

"Certainly, if it is not a problem with them," Mrs. Prewett said.

Mr. Prewett's stomach rumbled in response. He nodded as his face turned red in embarrassment again.

"Rosemary, would you mind setting the table to six? Our guests will be joining us for breakfast today."

"Certainly miss," Rosemary, a maid, said. She did a little bow and left the room.

Jack was still awake by the time Will and Elizabeth were talking to the Prewetts. He couldn't get the image of the boy, Harry, out of his mind. Did these events happen all ready or are they in the future? The clothing styles looked familiar, but he doesn't remember seeing anyone with that, from noblemen to pirates. Was Harry real or were Jack imagining things? Something was uneasy, but Jack couldn't tell if it was a gut feeling or the feeling in his gut, the pain.

Jack just lay on the bed thinking and trying to conserve whatever strength he had left. He had long since kicked the covers off from the heat, but now he wished he had them back to fight against the chill he was getting. He knew he was bleeding again and he had to change it. If only someone checked up on him and changed it. He knew he was suppose to die and without any medical jargon from the doc's, but they could at least throw him a scrape of cloth.

He slowly swung his legs over the bed so that he was sitting on the corner and got up. He staggered over to the dresser and looked at himself at the mirror hanging above it. This was not the face of Captain Jack Sparrow he was use to. This was but just a reflection. A very, very impaired reflection.

"You don't look to well, mate," Jack said to his pale, sweating reflection.

'You don't look well yourself, mate,' his reflection said back.

'Wait. Where did that voice come from?' Jack thought. Out loud he said, "Who's there?"

All he could hear were the footsteps walking around the household, silver clattering on expensive china and porcelain, and the muffled talking on the other side of the door from the guards, but they didn't sound like him. At least he doesn't think so.

Jack grimaced and ignored what just happened. He took his shirt off and let the material fall from his hands as he inspected the wound. It was as bloody as ever, but more bruised looking. Not a sign of it closing up, but he imagined that he could probably sew it back. It wasn't that deep, but it wasn't that wholesome either. So no to that.

He had to change the wrappings or else he'd bleed all over Will and Elizabeth's stuff. He doubted he wouldn't get away from that, even after death. He decided to make his way towards what looked like the washroom from across the guestroom when Elizabeth showed him the room. He threw his shirt back on and slowly walked unsteadily towards the door.

Jack smiled grimly at the two guards standing by his door, but he doesn't look at them. "Morning, mates."

"Now where are you off to?" one of them asked.

Jack didn't answer them. Instead, he walked a few paces to the room across from his and shut the door in front of their faces before they could stop him.