"That, I can not tell you." Elizabeth averted her eyes for a moment, but when she again met Will's gaze, there was a fire there. "Why do you keep asking? Don't you know … can't you see I can't say? You wouldn't …" He looked quite taken aback by her aggravated manner. She looked almost furious with him, as if she'd reached the end of her tether. He had never seen her this agitated before, but was thoroughly annoyed himself at being attacked like this.
"I wouldn't what? I wouldn't understand? You've said that before, and I didn't believe you then. What makes you think I wouldn't understand? Lately, it seems like you don't know me." A fire burned inside him. There was something inside him he thought had been lost when he'd seen her kiss Jack. Passion. Passion was present in him now, he would harness it, never letting go. "You don't know me at all." He looked disgusted at her assumptions, frustrated with the way she behaved. He looked like an angry schoolteacher reprimanding a youngster, tired and ready to give up.
His words seemed to wash over her. "If I say I can't tell you, why can't you just trust me?"
"Trust, and not be trusted in return? A lie with no bearings is still a lie Elizabeth. Trusting you when you lie openly to me is …" He looked exasperated, restraining himself from shouting. "Impossible." He turned his back and walked the length of the room, calming himself down. His temper was getting the better of him.
Halfway through his gait across the room he faltered, cursing under his breath as his left leg almost gave way, which would surely have made him fall. She almost cried out his name, but her conscious wouldn't let her. Elizabeth couldn't keep herself from being angry at him, nor was her anger unwarranted. "Impossible? I once thought talking with you would be impossible. Back when you never said my name. I thought it was impossible to get to know you, as much as I would have liked to. Where would we stand if I believed in impossible?"
She waited with bated breath for him to turn around, for him to respond. When he finally did, he no longer possessed fire. His eyes remained shadowed as he refused to look up, a single tear rolling down his cheek. He spoke in a hoarse whisper, the well of emotions audible in his voice. "You're right. All I can do is trust you." He turned away, walking out the door and began to limp down the hallway, unable to hold back the tears. He almost never cried. Not openly. He had cried when his father had left. He had cried when his mother had died. He cried now, Elizabeth's words holding true in his memory. She was right.
She followed him down the hall, watching, feeling more guilty with every step he took. She could see he was in pain. Why didn't I see it before? And I thought he just didn't want to see me … he couldn't come to see me. She entered the room without hesitation, sitting beside him. Wanted or not, she wrapped her arms around him, comforting as best as she could. They both knew, it was over. They came to a silent agreement, her holding him as the last of his tears escaped him. She let go only when he stopped crying, and as he met her gaze, she spoke. "I didn't know. I'm sorry."
He wasn't sure what she was talking about specifically, but it didn't matter. "It's alright." He stroked her hair and she looked up at him, their gazes meeting again. He pulled her towards him, pulled her into a gentle kiss. She smiled up at him, truly believing that he trusted her. They sat, side by side, and began to talk about everything. About almost everything. She didn't tell him what he was dying to know. She didn't tell him about the irons, about his involuntary sacrifice. She didn't tell him what he had so often asked of her. And he would wait for the answer, just a bit longer.
Their conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door. Cassandra entered, along with Beckett. "Ah, Lord Beckett. I do believe your admiral awaits you in the sitting room." Elizabeth made sure he noted James' presence in the house, then turned away from them and looked at Will.
Cassandra spoke first, trying to ease the silence. Will and Beckett were staring at each other, daggers in both their eyes. "Will, Elizabeth, I've found you passage to the island where Tia Dalma lives." She looked up at Beckett. "Cutler has offered you a longboat. It isn't far from here, I can show you on the map …" She paused, hesitating to tell them the rest of their news.
Beckett stepped in, finishing her sentence for her. "You'll be on your own, unfortunately. I have business to attend to, and Cassandra will no longer be here. She will accompany me." He looked a tad too smug. Will and Elizabeth gaped at the pair of them. It was unfathomable, really. Neither of them had picked Beckett for the 'likable' type.
Will was the first to come out of his shocked stupor. He smiled weakly, his hand finding Elizabeth's. His voice feebly sounded as he tried to gather himself. "When do we leave? Just show me the way."