Author's Note: Sorry about the delay in the uploading of this chapter! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, and as usual, keep them coming. The trailer for the sequel will be up in a couple of chapters from now (I'll let you know). Thanks!

Chapter Twenty Two: Wicked Game

Will opened his eyes slowly, crying out as he felt the piercing pain in his head. He stood up shakily, wondering how he got down on the deck anyway. He remembered fighting then blackness. But now the Martyr seemed to be gone, and the crew f the Pearl were looking quite shocked and confused. Elizabeth was standing looking out at the waves, her hands on the rail, her eyes dark and serious. Will moved over to her, and she turned to him, smiling a little.

"Will!" she exclaimed, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Are you quite alright?" Will asked, looking down at her with concern. But he knew she would be; he hated the idea of his innocent Elizabeth as a pirate, but when it came down to it... she was one.

Some of the Marines were spilling about on the Pearl as well as the Veran. Will caught sight of the blood-splattered face of a grim James Norrington and felt glad that for once they were on the same team. He looked down at the golden head on his shoulder and stroked the soft hair there with a content sigh. His Elizabeth was safe. The Martyr had, for some reason, left before any damage had been done. Jack would know what to do now.

"I wonder why Chiltingham took off so quickly..." Elizabeth muttered thoughtfully.

"Does it matter?" Will asked fondly, kissing her forehead.

Elizabeth gave him a dark look. "Well, that would depend..."

A loud cry made them both jump, and they whipped around to see a pale, sweaty Edward come fleeing towards them. His long, tangled black hair flew wildly around his face. They noticed a gash on his chin. But what worried Will more was the look in his eyes. He had never seen such a fearful look in those green orbs. "Jack- Carmen-!" he panted.

"What about them?" Elizabeth demanded, as Edward fell against the rail, breathing heavily. "Edward, what's happened to them?"

Edward took a deep, steadying breath. "They're gone." He swallowed, shaking his head before continuing. "I suppose Chiltingham's taken them."

No Jack. The knowledge cut through Will like a sword to the heart. It was hard to know what to do without him swaggering about deck, shouting orders that never seemed to make sense but always left them safe and content in the end. And Carmen... Will closed his eyes. That poor woman.

Elizabeth seemed far calmer. Will watched as she walked a little way away from them, calling for James Norrington. Her expression was serious, set. Will wasn't sure he liked that stormy look in her eyes.

Norrington came over. They couldn't tell where the blood on his face had come from, but he certainly didn't seem injured. He looked at them with distaste. "What is it, Miss Swann?"

"Carmen and Jack," she replied, her head cocked. "Chiltingham has them."

Norrington's eyes widened in horror. Seconds later, he was shouting orders to his own crew and the crew of the Pearl. "Set sail to Morta! All hands on deck!"

Will wasn't sure why the crew of the Pearl followed his orders, but they were certainly doing so. Perhaps it was because James Norrington had the mad gleam in his eye seen most often in Jack's, and even if they didn't care to admit it, James and Jack were very alike in a lot of ways.

Elizabeth was leaning against the rail again, her eyes on the Martyr, sailing away into the distance. "Chiltingham wants revenge," she muttered.

xXx

A long while later, the Martyr had stopped moving. Carmen, lying tied helplessly to the bed, supposed they were at Morta. She tried once again to free herself, tugging desperately at the ropes, but it was simply no use. She had never felt so useless. Her eyes watched Jack, who was still out cold.

Then, his eyes opened. She let out a shriek of surprise and terror.

He was on his feet quickly, his eyes still glazed-over and distant, not really seeing her. He was going to die... and yet he was going to help destroy her. She was so confused, unsure of what to do, and her screaming was a muddled-up mixture of swearing in fear and begging in horror.

He was untying her, one hand grasping her forearm roughly. When she was free, he tugged her to her feet roughly and pulled out his sword. She froze in horror as she stared at it, glittering in his hand.

"Jack," she whispered, as he slashed her shoulder. White-hot pain seared through her, and her knees gave way a little from shock. He held her up firmly, and she looked at the growing red stain on her green dress.

He dragged her outside, and she saw the horrible shape of Morta before her. Her eyes swam with tears. This was the end of her free life. But then her eyes looked around, and she saw the Black Pearl and the Veran heading towards them.

"Look, Jack- your ship," she said sadly, knowing that he did not currently understand how much the Pearl meant to him.

xXx

The wind seemed to be picking up, and it whipped Will's long, tangled hair around his dark face, which was set in concentration as he looked through the spyglass. He could see two figures on the deck of the Martyr, and through the spyglass, he could see that they were Jack and Carmen, though not how he expected to see them. There was a crimson mark on her shoulder, and Jack was dragging her, his sword at her throat.

"Chiltingham is controlling Jack," he said, and beside him, Elizabeth swore.

"Bugger," Edward said, coming up behind them, his green eyes glazed over with emotion.

A fourth person joined them; James Norrington. His eyes were dark and shadowed as he observed the situation aboard the Martyr. Will was sure he looked more tired and angry than he had ever seen him. "I will kill Jack Sparrow if I have to," Norrington snarled.

"You would enjoy that, wouldn't you?" Elizabeth snapped, eyes full of fire on him.

Norrington had a strange expression on his gentle features now. He blinked. "No, no I wouldn't."

For a long while, nobody spoke. Will knew that Norrington had realised the truth- that Jack was a good man.