Another chapter, up right quick. This is the final kraken scene from DMC, where Elizabeth manacles Jack to the main mast and Barbossa returns from the dead. I'm still a bit iffy about how this turned out, but I'll leave the final judgement up to you all.

Something I forgot to do in the previous chapter-and I am so sorry-was thank my beta reader, Team Jem Carstairs. So, thank you, my love. Your guidance is invaluable. You guys be sure to give her work a read sometime. On another note, this chapter-which was originally supposed to be chapter twelve or so-is dedicated to The SpaceCowboy XD for being my first reviewer. She requested this scene be written, so here it is.

Enjoy, and please, drop a review in the box, yeah?

"Abandon ship," Henry said, uncharacteristically solemn. The kraken would return soon, angrier than before. "Abandon ship or abandon hope."

The rest of the crew agreed and set about loading the longboat with guns and some other miscellaneous supplies. Soon, the items were loaded and Jem was helping with a few last minute additions as well as assisting other members down.

Tessa turned round and approached Will, who was standing off to the side, watching the commotion in an unusually detached manner. His long black hair was mussed and matted down with dirt and blood. His blue eyes were very dark and scanned over everything meticulously. Finally, they came to rest on Tessa, who was now less than two feet from him. He regarded her with a sliver of curiousity, but said nothing.

"Thank you, Will." she murmured, giving him a small smile.

Will gave a slight smirk, eyeing Tessa as she stepped closer. "We're not free yet, love."

Tessa nodded, acknowledging the truth of his statement. Her hands fiddled nervously behind her back. Will narrowed his eyes ever so slightly.

"You came back, though." she said, locking her stormy eyes onto his. Something flickered there . . . "I always knew you were a good man."

She was very close to him now and he instinctively tilted his head downward, and waited. Tessa hesitated for half a moment before pressing her lips to his hotly. They kissed in tandem, moving fervently against one another. She drove him back toward the mast . . . And he heard a soft click.

He froze and pulled back slightly. Casting his eyes downward, he saw that she had cuffed his left wrist to the mast. He pulled at it, but it was pointless. He was trapped. Tessa stepped back, her eyes wide.

Jem, who had turned to help Henry, saw them. He saw Tessa kiss Will. His heart stopped and his body went cold all over. His limbs felt dead, leaden weights that hindered any movement. He couldn't remember how to breathe. His mind was racing; confused, hurt. Had he done something wrong? Had he upset her so, that she felt the need to turn to Will?

"Prepare to cast off!" Henry's hurried words cut through the haze in his mind. The older man had moved in front of him, blocking his view of Tessa and Will. "There's no time to lose! Come on, James, step to!"

Jem faltered, then scrambled down the ladder and fell backward onto the bench of the lifeboat. His chest heaved with uneven breaths and he felt as though the world had tilted on its axis, leaving him hanging at an odd angle. There was a ungodly pain in his chest and he clutched at it.

How could she do this?

Meanwhile, Tessa was still staring at Will, wide-eyed with fear and guilt. Will stared at her placidly. Resignation and a trace of amusement played on his face. He smirked.

"It's after you, not the ship. It's not us." Tessa whispered roughly, shaking her head slightly. It sounded to Will as though she were trying to convince herself of this. "This is the only way, don't you see? . . . I'm not sorry." This last part was spoken with halfhearted conviction. Tessa was trembling fiercely, as though she had caught a chill.

She looked at him, leaned in toward him again. She looked, briefly, as though she might kiss him again. But she pulled away, a strong, almost angry determination in her gray eyes. Will's smirk widened to a smug grin.

"Pirate." he drawled. She shook her head one last time and turned away, making for the ladder.

Jem was there to help her down and once they were seated he eyed her with a cold gaze that made her insides knot up with fear. Did he see? She wondered. Did he see the kiss? Does he know I've left Will to die?

"Where's Will?" he asked, his voice as frigid and dead as his eyes. Panic bubbled up in her, threatened to take her under and she very nearly confessed it all right there. However, she managed to reign herself back in at the last moment.

"He elected to stay behind and give us a chance." she said, but her words sounded hollow, even to herself. They left a cold, sickly feeling in her stomach. She couldn't look Jem in the eye.

The rest of the crew looked uncertain, shooting glances between her and the rail of the ship, as though waiting to see if Will would appear. After a few minutes had gone by, Tessa looked back up at Pintel, her eyes dark and frantic.

"Go!" she barked, startling him. He jumped and quickly set to rowing the boat away from the Pearl.

Will, during this little interlude, had been struggling to free himself of the shackles that bound him to his ship. Sighing, as he was getting nowhere this way, he looked about the deck for something that might prove useful. He spotted a lantern, not too far from where he was standing. Smiling triumphantly, he drew his sword and reached out toward the lantern, catching it in the hook and swinging it up and over, breaking it across his shackled hand and drenching it in oil.

"Come on, come on . . ." He renewed his escape vigorously, wriggling and sliding his hand about until finally it slid free. His victory was short lived, however, as the kraken had returned. It was creeping up the side of the ship, long, slimy tentacles wrapping round the sails and railings until it's mouth was level with Will where he stood on the deck.

There was a brief, but extremely pregnant pause. Then, the kraken let out an ear-splitting roar. Its nauseatingly foul breath slammed into Will, and what must have been several pounds of thick mucus encased him, all exploding from within the kraken's cavernous mouth. Will shuddered once, disgusted, but when he happened to look down, his face lit up.

"Oh!" It was his hat. It lay at his feet, like a long lost friend whose loyalty could not be swayed. He picked it up happily and, shaking some of the mucus off, placed it back upon his filthy head. He sighed, almost content. At least he balanced properly again.

The kraken was expelling more of its rank breath and Will thought he might vomit. He shook himself.

"Not so bad." he muttered, drawing his sword. He stared down into the kraken's maw and steeled himself. He put on his best cavalier grin.

"'Lo there, beastie."

He charged in boldly, all traces of fear wiped away. He brought his sword down as the kraken took him in its mouth.

Tessa watched from afar as the kraken's tentacles crawled up the sides of the Pearl and then contracted. The beams and planks bent and burst, cracking apart from the pressure. All of them stared, disbelieving, in shock as the kraken slowly receded into sea, taking the remains of the ship with it.

No one spoke. There was an air of shock and sadness as they rowed away, leaving the sight of the attack further and further behind. Henry was staring out to sea, his hazel eyes dull and weary. Pintel and Ragetti were silent, staring down at their hands. Jem was staring at Tessa, caught between anger and hurt and the small hope that perhaps he had seen wrong; perhaps she hadn't kissed Will. Tessa had folded in on herself, her arms tucked in close and her head bowed. The briny wind caught her hair and blew it into her face, effectively hiding it. She was so cold inside, and empty. Her chest had hollowed out. All that was left now was the guilt. A fierce, consuming, unrelenting guilt that wrapped around her like a noose, choking her and bogging down her mind. She couldn't believe she had done it. She left Will chained to the mast, with no possibility of escaping from his gruesome fate. She couldn't even cry, she was so numb.

And Jem-oh, God, Jem. How cold she ever face him now? Of course, kissing Will couldn't hold a candle to Jem, it had only been a distraction to give her the chance she needed. But she had taken one look at Jem's face and knew-he had seen. Of course he would be angry. Angry, hurt, confused. By rights he shouldn't want her. He ought to hate her with every fiber of his being. But somehow, she thought, he would never feel that way. He would love her, always, no matter what she said or did. And that made her chest ache something fierce.

It was pitch black when they found themselves floating through the bayou, toward Madame Camille's little shack. The water was filled with dark-skinned natives, each holding a single candle. Their faces were somber and the candle light cast severe shadows on them. A shiver ran down Tessa's back. She stared pointedly ahead.

They docked at the bottom of the shack and Jem helped Tessa out of the longboat. As soon as she was steady, though, he dropped her hand as though the touched had burned him. Tessa was too drained, physically and emotionally, to feel hurt by his rejection. Once they were all seated inside, Camille circled round with a tray of tin cups. Tessa could hear Jem absently throwing his father's dagger into the table top. She looked up when Camille stopped in front of her, green eyes sad and understanding.

"Against the cold," she murmured, handing Tessa a cup. "And the sorrow."

Tessa stared down into the murky liquid, but did not drink. Why should she drink away her sorrow? It was all her fault, anyway. Another tremor racked her body and she bit back a groan. She had no right to complain, to expel her grief and take comfort in something. She could feel Jem's heavy, dark gaze resting on her. She did not look up.

Jem's heart was still aching at what he had seen-and he had seen it, there was no getting around the fact. He still could not wrap his head around it, though. For God's sake, this was Tessa! The girl who had looked after him that day at sea, when they were only children. The girl who never stood for Gabriel Lightwood's teasing him for his Chinese background. The woman he had come to respect and admire. The woman he loved. And she had gone and kissed Will Herondale, of all people. That bloody, conniving pirate, who had put them all in danger to save his own skin. Of all the people she could have done this with, why did it have to be Will?

What's so bad about me? he thought despairingly. He felt weak; battered and drained from fighting. Tessa's betrayal only sank him down further. And the melancholy aura projected by the rest of the crew was doing little to help.

"It's a shame," Camille said, placing a cup on the table in front of him. "I know you're thinking that with the Pearl, you could have captured the devil and set free your father's soul."

Jem sighed. Another thing to add to the list. "Doesn't matter now. The Pearl's gone. Along with her captain."

Henry, who had been silent up until this point, turned to face everyone. "Aye. And already the world seems a bit less bright. He fooled us all right to the very end. But I guess that honest streak finally won out. To Will Herondale!"

Ragetti raised his cup. "Never another like Captain Will."

"He was a gentleman of fortune, he was." Pintel agreed.

"He was a good man." Tessa brought her cup to her lips, but at the last moment put it down again. You can just suffer with your guilt.

Jem saw this. He sighed, knowing that what he was about to say would kill him, but if she cared for Will . . .

"If there was anything could be done to bring him back . . ." When she did not acknowledge him, he stood, moving toward her. "Tessa."

"What would you do, hmm?" Camille appeared, looking up at him with green eyes that glittered manically. "What . . . Would you, hmm? What would any of you being willing to do? Hmm? Would you sail to the ends of the Earth, and beyond, to bring back witty Will and his precious Pearl?" She looked around the room expectantly.

There was a chorus of quiet, but resolute 'ayes'. She turned to look between Jem and Tessa.

"Yes," Tessa whispered, feeling a small tendril of hope wind its way through her. If she could bring Will back to this world . . .

Jem nodded. "Aye."

Camille smiled a slow, almost predatory smile that made Tessa feel uneasy. "All right. But if you are to brave the weird and haunted shores at world's end, then you will need a captain who knows those waters."

Everyone turned, confused and curious, at the sound of footsteps coming from the rickety staircase. After a moment, the person reached the bottom, stepped forward into the light of the candles and revealed his face. There was utter silence. There, back from certain death, was Magnus Bane.

Jack the monkey was curled up on his shoulder. Magnus looked around the small room, grinning madly, a hungry gleam in his green-gold eyes. His grin revealed strangely perfect teeth, startlingly white against the tan of his skin. He chuckled, low and deep in his throat, and spoke.

"So tell me," he said, his voice lilting in an accent that had always, for some reason, made Tessa think of Jem. "what's become of my ship?"

So, how was it? Next up should be a remake of the crossing to Port Royal, where Will is fished out of the water. No promises, though.

Until next time, then, dear readers.

~Anna