A/N: Thank you so much for all of your reviews. However, I seem to have caused some confusion, so I'll try to clear as much of it as possible. I do realize that the movie alluded to the fact that Will would only have to serve on the ship for one ten-year period, but then how does he get his heart back? The movie also said the only way to replace the captain was to kill him, and that wasn't just referring to Davy Jones. At least, I didn't think so. So, until he is replaced, Will is stuck on that ship here. Elizabeth cannot be with him because he is supposed to ferry the souls of the dead to the next world and there's more explanation to that here. Just like before, please let me know if you're reading this, even if it is criticism. Thanks.
Two weeks had passed since he had felt the feeling of her bare skin against his own, two weeks since she had slept in his arms or kissed him so tenderly, two weeks since she had told him that she loved him. And much like before, he was aware of how utterly alone he was despite the crew of 45 pirates he was in charge of, one of whom was his own father. And not like before, he felt entirely and completely lost, like no one understood what it was like to be him except the one person he couldn't be with, and he wanted that feeling to go away more than anything else. He wanted to be able to look forward to the next time he would lay his eyes on his beautiful Elizabeth, whisper his deepest secrets into her ear, and hold her close, never letting go again. Instead, he only looked at this next time period as it if were black and white, with no gray area to make him hopeful. It would be another decade before Will Turner would finally see the love of his life again.
Rubbing the back of his neck distractedly, he looked back down to the map of the seas spread out on the tiny desk that occupied most of the empty space in his cramped quarters not taken up by his bed. If only there were a way to have Elizabeth beside him through all of this and not thousands of fathoms away on dry land. If only his love would be enough to make her a reality in front of him and not only an illusion of the mind. If only life were that simple. Interrupting his private counsel, his father knocked gently on the door, causing him to turn around, meeting his sympathetic smile. The old man moved slowly into the room, taking the unoccupied wooden chair that Will had haphazardly pushed away from the desk to stand in front of it. Both men were quiet for a moment longer before the elder spoke up, his voice raspy and soft with age. "I know you miss her, William, but it will only get easier."
Will shook his head, a bitter laugh rolling off his tongue before he had the chance to stop it. He finally glanced back at the older gentleman again, giving him an incredulous stare. "And how would you know? You didn't marry her only to get stuck here in this hell only minutes later. You didn't get to see her, hold her, touch her, talk to her, only to have it taken away just as fast. And you don't have to live with the reality that you being here, you being away from her, is hurting her more than she's ever been hurt before in her life. So don't tell me that it'll get easier because that's a lie and we both know it."
His eyes had glazed over and he was trying his hardest to swallow a lump in his throat the size of his fist when he finally dropped to the edge of his bed in defeat, cradling his head in his hands. What he had said was true, he did hate himself for letting this happen. He had hurt her when he had been forced to stay at sea for ten years at a time, he had hurt her by returning to her for those short few hours, and he hurt her again when he left, promising to return again, even though they both knew it wasn't enough. Knowing that he was the sole person responsible for this heartache that both of them felt so strongly was a burden that was becoming too strong for even him to bear.
The room remained silent for a minute as Bill Turner looked over the map, seeing the small notes that had been written in his son's scrawled handwriting within the margins. Sighing to himself, he looked back over at Will, his heart breaking for him. "I know this is hard for you and Elizabeth, Son, but this won't work. Taking a person who is so much alive and vibrant and sticking her on a ship destined to carry the newly dead, the despair would be too much for her, and you know it."
Will stood up from the bed, hitting his fist against the wall in his anger before pacing the small expanse of space between the two. "And what about me? What about it being too much for me to handle? This kills me, being away from her, having to see so many people who are no longer living. But it makes it okay because I'm dead, just like them, right?"
Bill beat stood up as well in such a hurry the wooden chair fell hard to the floor, the sound resonating for a long time before finally giving way to absolute silence. "You are not dead, William Turner, nor are you going to be for a long time. You've been put into an unfortunate predicament, but you have someone who loves you, someone who will wait for you, and someday when we figure this all out and get you out of this mess, Elizabeth will be there. You can't just give up like this, I won't let you, because we're going to put an end to this. We're going to get you off of this ship for good, and you're going to be able to spend the rest of your life with Elizabeth by your side. So do not, for even a minute, tell me that you're dead. Because you're a hell of a lot more lucky than those people you see every day."
Bill didn't wait for a response, he knew there wasn't one coming, as his son slowly sunk back down to his tiny twin-sized bed, sighing aloud once again. The sound of the door closing behind him reverberated in the cramped living space the so-called captain took refuge in on so many afternoons just like this, but his words stayed in his son's mind as well. Will Turner couldn't give up because it would mean he was admitting defeat, admitting that Davy Jones had truly become the victor and that Elizabeth was destined to forever be on her own, both facts that he could not face, not even in the best of circumstances.
The room was silent now, much too quiet for him or for anyone else as desperate as he to be alone in. There were nights when he had laid awake, waiting for the little comfort sleep provided him, a time when he could actually be with Elizabeth if only in his dreams, and he had thought about stabbing his own heart, taking his own life. That was before Jack had visited him and told him that it wouldn't result in anything else, seeing as the Flying Dutchman would still need a captain. It had also been when Jack Sparrow had given him hope, a hope that he never thought Elizabeth of all people would let him throw away.
Jack wasn't reliable, but for once in his life he had been sober when he had approached Will with an idea, light to spread on the bleak lifestyle he now practiced. His wife was the most supportive person he knew, but he also knew that she had been refusing to meet with Jack, attempts to contact her through his old friend had failed miserably. For a while he had blamed Jack and her new advisor, Jonathon whatever-his-name-was, but Jack told him that it really was Elizabeth who turned him away, and Jonathon in turn was the one to give him the small little details of her life to bring back to Will himself. He understood why she had turned him down, that she didn't want anything to do with the man who had torn them apart for good reason, and the plan was risky to say the least. If anything took just a millisecond too long, there would be no more 24-hour visits from Will, and she would find herself truly alone. Like he felt he was now.
He sighed to himself once again as he laid back on the bed, his hand rest on his hollow chest, rising and falling with every breath he took, but there was no steady rhythm behind his ribcage. There was no constant there, the driving force that had held him together, the part of him that had held her so close to him for so long, the part of him that was currently with her despite everything else. And as he closed his eyes, waiting for his dreams to take over, waiting to lay his eyes on her face if only for an hour, waiting to finally find a little solace, he wondered how his life had turned into the nightmare.
- - - -
A nightmare, that was all it was, she told herself as her clammy hands shook as she reached for the light that she knew was beside her bed. Her heart raced and she tried to catch her breath as her eyes scanned wildly around the perimeter of the room, not stopping until they landed on that thick, iron chest, and she felt somewhat relieved. She had forgotten about the dreams, how vivid and disturbing they had been in those first few months after he left aboard the Flying Dutchman. But now, a mere two weeks after he had returned to see, they had returned to her full force and left her in a cold sweat in the dark hours of the morning. They changed, varying slightly from one night to the next, but they always ended the same. Some were of things that had never happened and then there were ones like tonight that portrayed events from her life that hadn't ended so tragically the first time around.
This one was of that same tragic fight, when they had still been on the Black Pearl. Barbossa was marrying them begrudgingly, and she couldn't remember a time before now when she had been happier. It hadn't been her picturesque wedding, the one she had planned for a year only to have it ruined moments before the ceremony. It hadn't been deeply romantic in most people's eyes, nor was it conventional in any sense, but it was all theirs, a memory she would always have to cherish, no matter how many years had passed. But in the dream, death hadn't been a fear for Will but a reality. Just as he pulled her close to him, giving her the most passionate kiss she had ever experienced, his face contorted into pain and he let out a gasp, as if all the air had just fled out of his lungs.
Her eyes traveled downwards to his abdomen, seeing the small sharp metallic point of a sword before it was withdrawn just as quickly, making a sickening sound that made her want to vomit and causing Will to collapse to his knees, pulling her down with him. His hands hovered just above the hole in his torso, the crimson liquid staining the pure white of his shirt and flowing onto the deck to mix with both the rain and the saltwater that had risen up in the great waves to make the wooden floor slick. There was no other sound around her but her hollow sobs as she cradled his head close to her chest, her beating heart the only sound he heard in his last few moments. The fighting did not cease around them, but she didn't notice, too caught up in Will and her desire to change things, to let herself be the one to die right now instead of him. And for the life of her, she couldn't figure out why she felt lost, wounded, as if she were gasping for air, when he was the one who was dying right before her eyes.
It was then that she had jolted awake, the sound of a thunderstorm approaching rattling her bedroom windows. Turning on the light, she got her first glimpse of the pale gray sky, hinting at a storm as well as the dawn, if the sun was able to be seen at all today. Rubbing a hand over her tired eyes, she realized for the first time that she had been crying in her sleep, and for just a moment, she felt ashamed, worried that her cries and sobs in her sleep had been audible elsewhere in the mansion. Seeing as Jonathon hadn't come to check on her, she was pretty sure that he hadn't and her embarrassment faded away. She was struck again with the oddity that a person could cry without realizing it, a feeling she had never felt before Will's death.
A knock on the door broke her train of thought, and she realized then that her throat still felt raw from crying, even if she couldn't remember doing so. Not trusting her voice, she gasped softly as the bottoms of her bare feet connected with the hard wooden floor of her bedroom and the cool night breeze blowing in through her window met her bare arms. She made her way slowly to the door, not surprised in the least to find Jonathon waiting on the other side. "Miss Swann, I hope I haven't woken you at such an early hour, but I'm hoping that you will permit me entry to your bedchamber. I would like to have a word with you in private."
Elizabeth nodded dazedly, closing the door behind him as he slipped into the room. Jonathon seemed lost at first, with her only clad in her nightgown and her bed still unmade. It wasn't often that he had come to her this early, and never had he been in her room at a time like this. She was at a loss for words as well, so she was relieved when he finally spoke again, but his first phrase, the one that Will had uttered so many times early on in their relationship, broke her heart. "My fair Elizabeth, you seem to have a visitor who demands he meet with you immediately. He wishes to meet with you at the port as well, not wanting to cause a scene here."
"I'm sorry, but you can return to Mr. Sparrow, and tell him that I do not wish to speak with him now or ever again. I apologize for his waking you up so early in the morning, and I will do anything I can to make it up to you." With that, Elizabeth had turned around, her short and concise response enough by her standards, but it wasn't the same for him. Taking a step closer to her as she began to make her own bed for one of the first times in her life only to busy herself, he pressed on, his voice still just as strong and steady.
"I'm not sure you understand, Mrs. Turner. Mr. Sparrow assured me that it was a Will Turner who sent him here to talk to you, and he thinks that it's very important that you listen to what he has to say." He watched as she shook her head, placing one of the delicate white lace pillows back on her bed, never turning to face him at all. After another deafening silence, he cleared his throat, causing her to finally look his way. "As your advisor, Miss Elizabeth, I must say that I think it is in your best interest to hear the man out before you decide to cut ties with him. He may just be able to help you more than I can."
Giving her a small wink of his right eye, Jonathon slipped out of the room just as quietly as he had come, alluding to the fact that no one else knew that he was awake with her at this hour. Elizabeth ran a hand through her tousled hair as she looked out the window, catching the smallest glimpse of the pure blue waters over the roofs of the other houses on the street, biting her lip subconsciously. Jack Sparrow was the last person she wanted to see, but saying that she hadn't been thinking about what Will had said was a lie, a lie she wasn't going to admit to anyone. Instead of wallowing in her quarters like she did so many other days, she decided to take action this time.
She pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail, not bothering to brush it first. She wasn't about to take the time to impress Jack, not after the pain he had caused her. She pulled on a pair of pants, one of the few she had kept from her pirating days and the same black shirt Will had left in her care before leaving for another ten years. She hesitated a minute longer before slipping out of her room and down the stairs as quietly as possible, trying to convince herself that she was doing the right thing all the while.
Her bare feet felt much too soft against the hard cobblestone street and she hurried quickly to the only port she had ever been to in the company of Jack Sparrow, not surprised at all to find him talking to himself and flailing his arms around as he walked up and down the wooden dock. Her footsteps were soft, and it wasn't until he actually turned around to meet her eyes that he noticed her there at all. His same sly grin spread across his face, and she wasn't sure if she was going to be sick or if she was going to cry. He didn't give her a chance to react at all as he walked quickly to her, placing his hands in a loving manner on her arms. "Elizabeth Turner. I was afraid my eyes would never taken in your beautiful figure again…" As he took her small hand and raise it to his lips, she quickly yanked it away and crossed her own arms over her chest.
"Unlike you, Jack, I do have a purpose to my life now and people will both care and notice if I'm suddenly missing. Can you please just tell me what Will wants?" As Jack leaned in closer, wrapping an arm around her waist, she smelled the alcohol on his breath, and now she was sure that she was going to be sick, she could only pray it wouldn't be until she was safely in the confines of her own bedroom again. He raised a rough calloused hand to caress her cheek and she closed her eyes quickly, her tears falling before she had a chance to react. It wasn't Will's strong yet soft hands, it wasn't going to be his ever again, she found herself thinking.
"Oh, you're not going to let me enjoy my fantasies a while longer? You're not going to let me believe that you came to me because you want me in a way that no lady should ever want a pirate?" Elizabeth shook her head feverishly, and her sadness was perceptible from her dark brown eyes the minute she opened them again.
Before Jack had the chance to go on, she was firing back a bitter response, not holding her tongue. "I would never come to you for a physical desire if you were the last man on earth, Jack Sparrow." He gave a hearty laugh, but her face only contorted in utter disgust. "You're completely drunk."
Again, Jack laughed as he stepped away, spinning around before facing her again, that same haunting smile on his face. "I know, Darling. You can believe me when I say that I wouldn't be having this conversation with you while sober." She wasn't able to enjoy the irony in his statement, that many people wouldn't be having a conversation this life-altering with another person unless they were completely sober. He followed suit as she sat down on the edge of the dock, letting just the tips of her toes brush against the water's surface as she waited for whatever he was going to say. Another minute of awkward silence surrounded them before he finally decided on a way to approach the subject. "Will feels like he's living in his own private hell right now, and I don't blame him. And I've been working on it, trying to find a way to the Fountain of Youth so I can remain this gorgeous to you forever, and I'm pretty sure that once Cascada lays her eyes on me, she'll be consenting to whatever I may need.'"
Elizabeth rolled her eyes in disgust as she pulled her feet out of the water and up onto the dock, wrapping her arms around her knees before resting her chin on top of them. Jack didn't say anything else as he pulled a flask out from his breast pocket and raising it to his lips, letting the bitter burning liquid one its course down his raw throat. It was a minute before she spoke, and a fresh wave of tears had already come to rest in the corners of her eyes by the time she did. "It's so risky, Jack… I would rather see Will once a decade than never again… I don't think… No, I know I couldn't handle being in that situation."
Jack got to his feet, wavering slightly as he did so, the alcohol definitely having an effect on him by now. His voice was harsh when he started, but Elizabeth swore she saw a flash of compassion in his deep eyes before he spoke to her. "But our Will is miserable. By the time another ten years passes, there may be no Will left. Having a life is one thing, but having a desire to live is a completely different thing. And he's starting to lose the latter, even with the promise of seeing you again."
Elizabeth was struck by the heart-felt speech he had just delivered, and she couldn't respond right away. The wind blew the few strand pieces of her hair away from her face as her eyes stayed glued to the reflection of the moon in the deep aqua-colored waves, her salty tears rolling down her cheeks. Jack didn't think she was going to respond at all, but when he was about to turn around, get back into his tiny rowboat and leave, she shook her head slowly in response. "You're wrong, Jack. They're not two separate things, they are one in the same. Will is my life, and he's what I live for. I don't know how I would get through a single day if I couldn't dream of the day when I would feel his arms around me again. And if something goes wrong, what happens to me?" Her eyes pleaded with him to give her all the answers when she looked back up at him, to assure her that there was no negative in the situation, but he just looked back down to her feet, not even offering a sarcastic remark. She shook her head again as she stared back out at the water, her voice just a thin whisper. "I'm sorry, but you're going to have to tell Will that I can't let him do this."
Her eyes stayed glued to the swaying surface of the water beneath her, she seemed despondent and not so lucid anymore, and it scared Jack for a minute. "Very well, Elizabeth. I guess I'll just send poor William your love…" And with that, he disappeared into the night, the faint sound of oars against the water the only remnant of his presence.
Elizabeth moved to lay down, pressing her face to the wooden planks so she could hear the waves move right beneath her, feel the smallest spray against her cheek through the tiny slits. She used to love the sea, it was the one place where she felt most comfortable. But the sea had taken away Will, her Will, and it wasn't going to let her have him back. By now, she couldn't cry anymore, there were no more tears for her to shed. And as the sun rose, a sun that wasn't followed by a green flash that meant anything to her, a sun that signaled another day alone, she only wished that just like the night, her living nightmare would soon come to an end.