Author's Note: Well, here is the fifth chapter! I've replied to reviews, so not to worry, I've been reading them, smiling at each one like a goon, and replying enthusiastically, they really do make my day!

Now, this is a sadder chapter, but, it is longer. I think you'll guy enjoy it. I think I did a much better job with this one.

Enjoy!

Trailing his fingers over and over the necklace, he stared at nothing else. I stared at him, staring at the sparrow. The sun has already set, and we've been lazily enjoying each other's presences. He turned onto his stomach, displaying his tattooed back. I sat up and my hands reached out to explore the story written out on his skin. The tips of my fingers gently tracing each mark, each line.

I felt him relax against my touch, murmuring, "That feels good, pet."

Smiling slightly, I paused and simply looked down on him, mesmerized at his body.

He groaned out as he turned onto his back, and pulled me further on top of him, positioning me to be straddling his waist.

The candle light flickered, and in the dim light I could make out his high cheekbones, smirking at me.

I felt his hands guide themselves up my thighs and rest on my hips. I bit my bottom lip and felt as though this was all a hazy dream. What if I woke up, still in England?

His gaze firmly set on my lips, he sat up and dove in for a kiss. Before our mouths good greet each other, a thud from up above resounded. I glanced up, before looking at Jack.

He drew out a sigh and pulled us both out of bed, muttering out under his breath the whole time, "Playing out one of their brilliant ideas… without me… Gits."

We hurried up on deck, discovering a sea of the white dead. My eyes widened at the sight, I quickly glanced at Jack standing behind me; he was merely staring out with an expression in his eyes I could not decipher.

Ragetti and Pintel listening as we approached the rail, joining in, as Tia Dalma spoke, "They should be in the care of Davy Jones. That was the duty him was charged with by the goddess, Calypso; to ferry those who die at sea to the other side, and every ten year, him could come ashore, to be with she who love him truly. But the man has become a monster."

Ragetti questioned, "So… he wasn't always… tentactley?"

"No… him was a man… once."

"Now there's boats coming."

Peering further ahead, there were dotted lights, candles flickering within boats drifting hauntingly past the ship. The rest joined us, Gibbs preparing to fire shots when Will forced the rifle down, "They're not a threat to us, am I right?"

Tia Dalma stared at them while saying, "We are nothing but ghosts to them."

"It's best just let them be," Barbossa suggested.

Elizabeth came up beside me and piped up, "It's our father, Gin, we've made it back!"

I whipped my head in the direction she as staring at, in disbelief, as I saw she was correct. There was our father, sitting inside a lonesome boat, drifting slowly, gazing at nothing in particular ahead of him.

I realized exactly what that meant. We were not in fact back just yet…

Jack wrapped an arm around me from behind in an attempt to provide comfort as I froze in sadness at the ghost, of my father, while I stood there, helpless, watching him cross into the unknown.

"Father, look here, father, here!"

I barely uttered a whisper, my voice cracking, "Elizabeth… we're not back."

Her face fell, as she denied it, continuing to call out, "Father!"

I watched, as he turned his head, noticing us finally, "Gin, Elizabeth… are you dead?"

Elizabeth continued following him along the rail, shaking her head desperately, "No, no."

"I think I am."

"No. You can't be!"

Staring hard at him, trying to memorize his face, his strong eyes, nose, everything one last time before he truly was lost to us.

"There was this chest, you see. It's odd. At the time, it seemed so important..."

Elizabeth continued pleading, "Come aboard."

"...And a heart. I learnt if you stabbed the heart, yours must take its place and you will sail the seas for eternity. The Dutchman must have a captain. Silly thing to die for…"

Barking at us Elizabeth cried out, "Someone cast a line! Come aboard with us!"

I backed away from the railing slowly, keeping my eyes on father; just one last look.

Tia Dalma faced me, and slowly reminded me, "A touch… of destiny."

Tossing the rope overboard, and into father's reach, she commanded, "Take the line!"

Father glanced at me, smiled, before turning back to Elizabeth once more, "I'm so proud of you two."

"Father, the line, the line, take the line!" before rushing to the edge of the ship in attempt to catch him, "Please come with us! Please! No! I won't leave you!"

"She must not leave the ship!" Tia Dalma furiously warned, when the whole crew rushed after Elizabeth to keep her from jumping over.

I remained frozen in place, letting a tear roll down my cheek, before another chased it, re-tracing the race line.

One last look, "I'll give your love to your mother, shall I?"

Will caught her in his grasp, wrapping his arms around her tightly, "Is there a way?"

Tia Dalma shook her head slightly, "Him at peace."

Jack clasped his hands around my shoulders, leading us away from the railing, "Come on…"

I stared blankly at the floor, barely breathing the heavy air. Jack brushed my curls away from my shoulders gently, before pulling down the straps. He reached around behind my waist, slowly undoing the laces while gazing at me.

My dress loosened around me, he continued to push the material further down my arms, until it fell in a heap around my feet on the floor.

He rested his warm hands on either side of my neck, "Gin."

I ignored the call.

"Look at me, Gin."

I couldn't move.

Tilting my head up gently with his hand, Jack looked at me with his dark eyes, the candlelight's reflection dancing as bright specks within them, "He loved you."

My heart beat with pain, "Did you love me?"

Sighing, he lay me down on the bed, before slowly climbing on top of me, "Now's not the time to talk about my death."

"Now's the perfect time to discuss it."

Resting his forehead against mine, our noses barely touching, "Is this what you were like when I died?"

A tear escaped again, "Worse."

Pressing his lips against mine every so slowly, barely putting pressure into me, he shaped one word for my mouth to recognize: Yes.

Well, there you have it! I hope I was able to carry out the emotions at a perfect degree of intensity.

Oh, and, on another note; the fourth POTC has been released. I've yet to watch it and decided whether or not I shall make a fourth sequel. Who has watched it? Any suggestions? Would you, my lovely reader, like a fourth story? I'd love to hear your suggestions.

And, for this current one, if you have any requests as to what kind of scenes or interaction or twists you'd like or have ideas about the plot for, feel free to share! (: