Sorry for the wait... Got caught up in all of the Harry Potter madness and had to go into a flurry of writing in that world for awhile.

"I answer the heroic question "Death, where is they sting?" with "It is here in my heart and mind and memories."" -Maya Angelou
"Will Turner," announced Beth, "I would like to join your crew."

He was startled by the question, of course. No one had ever asked to join his crew; most begged to leave it. Will asked a simple question: "Why?"

"Because," she said, almost bitterly, "I'm not finished living."

If he were in the time of before he might have laughed, but now nothing seemed to interest him enough to generate humor. "How do you expect live among the dead?"

"You do."

He blinked, not expecting the almost-accusation. He considered for a moment trying to explain to her how he considered himself a member of the dead now that he was completely void of anything worth living for.

But rather than attempting to explain, he merely said, "You may serve me for one month, Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth wondered why his voice cracked when he said her name and why his eyes could not meet hers.

Will didn't sleep much that night.

She was running from him. "Oh Will!" she sang, "You will never catch me!" She laughed, her long legs eating up the ground as she sprinted down the beach towards the setting sun. He ran after her, grinning, his longer strides quickly overtaking her shorter ones, but right when he reached for her, she turned from his Lizzie into Elizabeth. "Mr. Turner, I would like to join your crew."

Forcing down the surging disappointment that was rising as quickly as bile, Will shoved this new Elizabeth away from him, where she fell, sprawling onto the sand. She promptly changed back into his Elizabeth, her features shimmering in the heat. "Why did you push me, Will?" she asked, her voice full of hurt.

He reached out a hand to help her up, horrified at what he had surely imagined her changing into. "My apologies, my dear... I do not know what came over me."

When Elizabeth forgave him, her smile was brighter than the setting sun. He traced her jaw with his fingertips, memorizing its shape, and then he leaned in to kiss her. But when they were centimeters apart, she changed again, growing dark curls and losing height. "I'm not finished living," she said, and he watched every movement of her lips before realizing how close they still were.

He jerked away, confusion washing over him in waves as large as those the tide was rolling in, and then he woke up.

Drenched in sweat, he got out of bed and walked out on deck. "Elizabeth," he whispered to the empty air, "Why do you do this to me?"

But he did not know to which Elizabeth he was speaking.

Elizabeth didn't sleep much that night.

"Father, how much longer until we reach India?" Elizabeth stood on the deck of a ship with blue ocean and sky stretching all around, peering over to gaze into the ocean's shadowy depths.

"One week, I believe," replied her father in all his white-wigged glory. He had aged more in the two months since her mother had died than he had in years, and his once-handsome face was lined with wrinkles of grief and not of time.

The family doctor had prescribed a change of scenery for Elizabeth and her father, her father for his physical health and Elizabeth for her mental health (the doctor had treated her when she was fell ill six months earlier with a broken heart) and so they were moving to India from England, which had been Elizabeth's home for all of her life.

Her father had argued profusely with Elizabeth at first, saying she needed to find a husband before she moved out of the country, but Elizabeth had declined, saying she would never marry.

Or rather, the only man she would marry, she couldn't have, so she would try to ignore the love aspect of her life altogether.

It must have been because she was thinking of him that she first saw his face when she was gazing into the water. But she tried to blink away the conjured image, and there it remained. She turned to her father, wondering if he had noticed anything, but he stood in the same place he had been in before, undisturbed.

She knew the doctor would have said that she was seeing things again, or that she was simply hoping so much that she had merely conjured the image in the ocean, but she couldn't help it, couldn't stop it.

Elizabeth had to know. She had to know if that was really him in the water.

So she did what she told herself was the only rational thing to do: she jumped.

She heard her father's yell and her scream simultaneously, just before she broke the surface of the water. She scanned the water, searching for his face and for him, but she did not see the man she was once supposed to marry.

Elizabeth realized too late how heavy her dress was. She realized too late that she had not gulped a large enough pocket of air.

She tried to fight her way to the surface, tried to fight her way back into the world of the living.

But when her vision started going black, she realized it was too late, and she simply gave herself up to the waves.

When Elizabeth woke, she was drenched in cold sweat, panting as if she had run a great distance. She lightly stepped out of her bed, pushed open the door, and walked out on deck.

Will was too immersed in his thoughts to be startled when Elizabeth walked up to him. "You couldn't seem to find sleep either?" he asked, and found that he was actually interested to hear her answer.

"No. And you?"

He shuddered. "Bad dreams."

"I know what you mean," she said, watching him solemnly. She wondered if he, too, had dreamed of his lost one.

"What did you dream of?"

"The night that I died."

"In my occupation, I suppose you could say, I am granted a small amount of information about how each person died. You jumped off of a ship and drowned, am I correct?"

She nodded.

"However, I never know the whys of death. Why did you jump off of that ship, Elizabeth?"

"I thought-" her voice faltered. "I thought I saw the man I was supposed to marry in the ocean."

"Did he die before the wedding?" asked Will timidly.

"No, he- he left. And I haven't heard from him since." Her voice suddenly became hopeful and alive. "But he was a sea captain, and I- Will, a selfish part of me hopes that he might actually have died at sea on his last voyage before our wedding. That would be easier to bear than the thought of him going away and leaving me... If he died at sea, you would know, am I right?"

Will's tone was gentle. "I doubt I would remember him. You are the first person I've talked to in decades, Elizabeth. What was his name?"

She swallowed hard before saying, "Jack Sparrow. Captain Jack Sparrow."

I would love some feedback on this...

Thanks to those who have already reviewed!