A/N: wOwIe. I haven't updated in a LONG time. Sorry…wince I've been having really bad writer's block…I'll try my best to make updates faster in the future. ('try' being the key word here…I don't control my teachers' minds.) Ok. On with the show.

DISCLAIMER: Stop making me say it…and the lyrics belong to whoever wrote that Cat's in the Cradle song.

Will you teach me to throw?

I said 'Not today.'

Or something like that…

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Chapter 11

Davy Jones popped his upper lip irritably and absentmindedly relieved an itch on his furrowed brow. He knew that he should have foreseen this. Now that Sparrow had the heart, he would never give it up. Not for anything. The Turner boy might have handed it over immediately and demanded Elizabeth back, but not Sparrow. Sparrow knew Jones far too well to do anything of the sort. He wouldn't even reveal the heart's present location, only that it was safely in his possession. "Fine," Jones said finally. "I keep the girl until my heart is in my own hands."

"One problem," Jack said, putting up a finger. "Elizabeth is a relevant part of my plan to defeat Hel's demons. No Elizabeth, no victory. No victory, no Captain Sparrow. And seeing as Captain Sparrow is the only one who knows the heart's present resting place, no Captain Sparrow means no thump-thump. Savvy?"

Jones narrowed his eyes, popped his upper lip once more, and exhaled loudly. "Fine." He signaled to one of his men. "Bring the girl," he ordered.

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Elizabeth was roused from her half-doze by the pounding of footsteps, jangling keys, and the creak of the opening door. One of Davy Jones's crewmen grabbed her roughly by the arm. "Where are you taking me?" she asked, stumbling to her feet.

"The Black Pearl. Sparrow wants you back," the crewman grunted. "Lucky for you."

"Where's Bootstrap? I'd like to say goodbye."

The crewman threw back his seaweed-covered head and laughed. It was a harsh laugh, not at all humorous.

"What?" Elizabeth demanded. "What's so funny?"

"Should have said bye a day or two ago. Bootstrap's dead. 'S a shame, 'specially as 'is own son killed 'im."

"Will killed him? Will?"

The creature didn't answer, only grinned a green-toothed smile as they crossed the plank between the ships. Elizabeth could see Jack standing and talking with Davy Jones, his face serious for once. Heat rose in her face, and she ducker her head down when he looked up at her.

"Ah, thank you," Jack said when Elizabeth reached him. He took her shoulder and drew her away from Jones and his crew. "You're sure there's no faster way? Remember, mate, the faster we get there, the faster you get your heart."

"No, there is no faster way," Jones said impatiently.

Jack sighed resignedly. "All right then. If you're sure…"

"I am completely and totally positive," Jones growled.

"So…how do we get there, exactly?" Jack said.

"Use that bloody compass of yours…we sail underwater," Jones replied. "Back to the Dutchman and rest up, you witless dogs!" His crew scuttled back over to the Flying Dutchman, Jones stumping along behind.

Elizabeth tapped Jack tentatively on the shoulder. Jack grunted in answer. "Jack, will you teach me more about the sword?" Elizabeth said.

"What? No hello or heartfelt apologies?" Jack drew his cutlass and flicked the tip up to Elizabeth's collarbone. She shivered at the cold metal. "Dead already? We really have to work on that, luv, or your head will be rolling on the deck before you can say 'parley'," Jack scolded. Elizabeth sensed a certain stiffness about the old nickname.

"Be fair," she complained, smiling.

"I'm a pirate. What do you expect?"

"That you would at least be fair to me."

"Come, now. The demons aren't going to be any more fair than Barbossa."

"Who, at his best, was actually pretty fair. Come on. Will you?"

"Not now," Jack said. "Later. First, you have to come see Will…I'm not much of a doctor, meself. Are you?"

"A doctor?" Elizabeth echoed. "Why? What's wrong with him? And I want the truth."

"Uhm…he was sort of…er…hit by a cannonball today. He's still alive…" Jack scratched his head and smiled hopefully.

"A cannonball? Doing what?"

Jack winced. "Flying. Towards Will."

"Jack Sparrow, you are impossible. Take me to him. And I meant what he was doing."

"Sitting in the way of said cannonball, unfortunately." Jack turned around and led Elizabeth to the crew's cabin.

Will's eyes opened when they came in. "Elizabeth. You're…back." He pulled Elizabeth down and kissed her.

She allowed him to for a moment, then pulled back. "What were you doing, you stupid oaf?" she said playfully.

"Sitting in the way of a stray cannonball," Will said evasively.

"Where did it hit you?" Elizabeth asked.

Men.

"Here, in the side," Will said, indicating the crude bandage. Elizabeth carefully coaxed the knot apart and let the half-shirt fall away. She took a lantern from the middle of the room and held it up to see better. She touched Will's side, blushing slightly. Will hissed in pain. She moved up to his rib cage and pressed down lightly. He yelped.

"Broken ribs, I think. And there's probably a fair amount of damage otherwise," Elizabeth assessed. "But don't take my word on it…I've no idea what I'm talking about when it comes to wounds."

"That's what I thought when I saw it," Jack said. "Any idea what to do about it?"

"Maybe…lay him straight and then tie the shirt around his ribs so they mend straight. Or at least somewhat straight," Elizabeth said uncertainly. "Will…could you try to roll over?"

Will nodded. "I'll try." Wincing and grimacing, he propped himself up on his elbows. He slipped, and Elizabeth steadied him with a hand on his shoulder. Her cheeks grew hot when she touched his bare skin. Will fell onto the hammock on his back and straightened himself out, letting out a painful puff of air.

"All right?" Elizabeth asked. He nodded. She wrapped the shirt tightly around his rib cage provoking more yelps and gasps, and tied it in a knot. "There," she said. "Lie still. For a few weeks. No exerting yourself at all. At least that's what the doctor told me when I broke my leg. Hopefully I'm right. Okay? Now get some sleep. I don't bloody care if you're not tired, got to sleep." Elizabeth smiled at the eager young man and left the cabin after Jack, closing the door behind her.

"Now will you teach me?" she pleaded.

Jack sighed. "I'm tired…"

"That's good, otherwise you would probably slaughter me. Please? And what demons were you talking about?"

"Long story short, the person I was with before I came back's a smidge angry with me and wants me back. So she gave me a week until her pet demons come after me. And now we can't get to where we're supposed to be in time, so we're going to have to fight said demons, unfortunately."

"All the more reason to teach me!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "I want to fight. I want to help." Jack still looked hesitant. "Why won't you teach me?" She threw her arms up into the air. "It's not like I have a disease or something….Oh." An expression of dawning comprehension stole across her face. "This is about the kraken thing, isn't it? We both know that I didn't want to do that. I'm sorry, all right? I really am. Give me this chance to redeem myself. To save your skin, if nothing else. To make myself feel better, too."

Jack completely ignored her apology. "I thought Will already taught you?"

"Only the basics. I want to be able to fight better. I'm only asking you because you're the best swordsman aboard the ship besides Will, and Will's obviously unable to help."

"Fine. Take out your cutlass." It was abrupt, but it would do. Elizabeth obeyed. "Defend yourself. See if you can get me weaponless and begging for mercy," Jack said tonelessly. He lunged, lashing out with a vengeance, and Elizabeth was only just able to parry in time before he attacked down lower, and she was forced to leap over the steel blade. He knocked the cutlass from her loosened grip and rested the tip of his weapon on her collarbone once more.

"Always keep your grip tight so I can't do that. And your form is clumsy. Step with me, not opposite me," Jack directed. Elizabeth waited for him to take his blade away, but he didn't. He made a small nick in her skin.

"Ouch!" Elizabeth gasped.

"That'll remind you to keep your grip tight. That's how I got taught. Get your sword," Jack said, just as colorless as ever. His tone was starting to worry Elizabeth, but she did as he said. "Right. Again," he said.

Elizabeth tried to keep in step with the pirate and keep her eyes on his sword at the same time, but it was impossible to hold tightly to her own sword and do that as well. She lasted only a few seconds longer than before and received another nick in the same place. "Must you do that?" she asked.

Jack didn't answer.

Elizabeth sighed and retrieved her cutlass. Then she made a bold attempt to knock the sword out of his hand, failed, and went on the attack.

"Very good," Jack said, brow furrowed in concentration. "The only thing you need" – he paused, parried a blow, and sent another back – "to remember is that you're not just trying" – jab, parry – "to hurt me, just to get the sword out of my hand." That said, he delivered a crushing blow, sending Elizabeth's sword skittering over the deck. "Like that."

"Not fair, you're stronger," Elizabeth said reproachfully, picking up her sword yet again.

"Then use your size and speed to beat me instead of going at me straight on like you did." Jack made another small cut. "Try again."

This went on for a while, until it was nearly dark. A couple of men had gathered around to watch. The cut over Elizabeth's collarbone grew deeper and began to bleed a little, but she still insisted on continuing. During the final fight, she made a wild swing and succeeded in making a shallow cut across Jack's chest. He growled softly and smashed her sword with the flat of his own blade, causing it to fall.

"Oh, I'm sorry, are you all right?" Elizabeth asked, coming over to Jack.

"Fine," he said, waving her off. "It's an improvement. That's enough for tonight."

Elizabeth took it as a promise of another lesson tomorrow night and slid her cutlass into its sheath before going to take a private cabin at the stern of the ship.

Jack smiled grimly at his cut and went off to his own cabin to consult his charts.