As Michelle followed Will down the maze of docks in Port Royal, she took a deep, determined breath.
Alright, Michelle, calm down, she thought, keeping her eyes on Will's back. You're gonna get through this...right?
Michelle didn't want to face what she thought to be the truth--that she was walking to her death. She couldn't shake Tia Dalma's prediction from her mind--that she would die on her journey.
Yes, but she also said I'd come back, Michelle thought reasonably. And she might be wrong! Maybe she was just messing with my head...
But Michelle knew Tia Dalma had been sincere.
"You're awfully quiet," Will said, turning to her.
Michelle snapped her head up, jolting herself out of her reverie. She forced a smile and began, "Sorry..."
Will smiled and shook his head. "Don't apologize! It's just different than usual..."
It was true, Michelle and Will were usually found together, talking up a storm about anything and everyting. In fact, Michelle considered Will one of the best friends she had made. She knew it was cheesy, but she felt like she knew the young man, and somehow she had found it in herself to open up to him over the past weeks...perhaps it was because of the worry that was constanly plaguing her of the predicament she was in.
"So, uh, how exactly are we going to track down Davy Jones?" Michelle asked coolly, wanting to get away from the subject of her unusual manner. Well, unusual to Will, anyway. Back home she was usually quiet, preferring to keep alone with her thoughts.
Back home... she couldn't help but think wistfully as Will began to speak.
"Well, I think Jones will be pretty upset about this," Will said, patting his chest, where Michelle knew the heart was. "But I don't want to get on a ship and put the crew in danger..."
Michelle nodded, admiring of Will's kind nature. "So how do you think we can find him?"
"Actually, I was hoping you would have some ideas," Will said, somewhat sheepishly.
Michelle let a smile come to her face. "Well, it's a good thing we're talking about this now, after that great exit," she half-joked.
"Maybe we should have asked for help," Will said, wincing slightly.
Michelle blew a breath out from her mouth, her cheeks puffing out for a moment. "Could we just row out to the open ocean?" she asked tentatively, knowing how lame the idea sounded.
But she was surprised. "That's what I was thinking," Will commented. "There doesn't seem to be any other option, does there?" He stopped to think for a moment, stepping out of the way for a man carrying a crate down the docks. "Don't you think he'd know where his heart was?"
"Yeah, and he'd come for us!" Michelle said excitedly. But then her face fell. "Wait...in the movie, he didn't know his heart was missing from the chest..." she muttered, mostly to herself.
"Sorry?"
Michelle looked up and tried to explain what she meant to Will. "At the end of the movie we saw, Jones got hold of the chest, and when he opened it, he had no idea Norrington had his heart--otherwise, he never would have bothered getting the chest, right? So that rules out the chance of him coming for it."
Will nodded, looking dejected. "Well, this isn't going exactly as planned," he muttered, sitting down on a nearby barrel.
Michelle nodded, letting out a sigh and settling herself on a crate across the dock from Will. What could they possibly do?
Then an idea dawned on her.
"He comes when someone is near death, right?" she asked quickly, making Will jump a bit from being pulled from his thoughts.
"Yes..." he said slowly. "What are you saying? There's no way we could find someone close to death out on the open sea."
"We don't need to find anyone," Michelle said softly. "We can use me."
Will stared at her, dumbfounded. Then, "What?!"
Michelle held up a hand to stave him off. "Will, I know what I'm doing. I know I'm going to die anyway."
This time, Will was speechless. Michelle then proceeded to explain what Tia Dalma had told her the first night she had arrived in this world, showing Will her broken lifeline on her hand.
When she finished, Will was a bit paler but still adamant. "No. I will not let you harm yourself for this," he said, shaking his head. He rose from his place on the barrel and walked a ways down the dock, as if not looking at his young friend would prevent this from happening.
"Will, there's no other way!" Michelle said desperately, springing from the crate and following him. "This is the only way we can save your father," she said softly, placing a placating hand on his arm.
She felt him tense, and he still wouldn't look at her. She knew the conflict that was raging inside of him: should he risk her life to save his father's? Or could he wait a little longer, placing his father in further danger, to think of a way to spare them both?
He finally turned toward her, looking down into her eyes intently. "No," was all he said before turning away again, gently pulling his arm from her grip.
"Will, you know you have to let me do this!" Michelle said desperately, following him again. "Look, do you want to save your father or not?"
"Of course I do!" Will said angrily over his shoulder.
"Then you know what to do!" Michelle said, catching up to him, grabbing his arm, and turning him to face her. Again, he avoided looking at her, but she saw the shame in his eyes anyway.
"Hey," she said softly, her eyes roving across his face. "I know what you're feeling...you know this is the only way."
Will closed his eyes briefly, and Michelle took this as a yes.
"You're going to have to let me go...besides, I'm leaving soon anyway..." She felt dread crawl into her stomach as she thought about the time she had left in this world. If she only had 30 days here, how much longer did she have left? How long had she been here?
She shook the thought from her mind, but there was no getting that horrid feeling out of her belly.
"So...you'll let me do it?" she asked tentatively, her eyes never leaving his face.
Frowning slightly and looking upset, Will took her hand and finally met her eyes.
"Yes," he said weakly.
Michelle smiled shakily and said, "Then let's find us a boat!"
An hour later, Will and Michelle were out on the open ocean in a longboat they had stolen. They had had a long discussion on the use of the word "commandeered" when the subject of the verb was something as small as a longboat and had agreed that saying that they had commandeered it was a bit precocious of them. Anyway, they were in the ocean in a longboat, and that's all you need to know.
"Got the heart?" Michelle asked tensely after an awkward silence.
"Right here," Will said nervously, patting the same spot on his chest.
There was another silence. Michelle couldn't help but think would it would be like to break that silence with her dying cries.
She physically shook herself as if the thought were an annoying fly buzzing around her head. "Alright..."
She couldn't bring herself to say the words in her head: "Should you do it, or should I?"
Glancing at Will, she knew he felt the same way.
She couldn't believe this was happening. Here she was, sitting in a boat in the middle of the sea with Will Turner, and she was about to die.
Without thinking, she seized her sword and plunged it into her stomach.
Will jumped from the other side of the boat with a yell as Michelle pulled the sword from her body and crumpled to the floor. Kneeling at her side, Will's hands fluttered around her face, unsure what to do.
Michelle was in utter agony. Well, how's that for the understatement of the year? she thought dryly--well, as well as dryly as anyone can think as they bleed to death.
"Michelle..." was all Will could say as he cradled her face in his hands.
"Shut up," she whispered, swallowing hard to keep blood from dribbling out of her mouth.
She glanced at his face, her vision going hazy. She wasn't sure, but she thought she saw tears in his eyes...
Will pounded the bench Michelle had been sitting on with his fist, letting the tears flow freely.
"Hey!" Michelle tried to reach for his arm, but she was finding it difficult to function properly at the moment. "Stop...you knew...this was..the right thing to do..."
She closed her eyes and moaned slightly as she felt more blood flow from the wound in her stomach. She felt her world heave and churn, and she knew the end was near...
Wait, the whole boat is churning! she thought faintly.
She wearily turned her head to the side just in time to see the Flying Dutchman rise from under the water.
The little boat nearly capsized in the resulting wave, and Will threw himself to the side to balance out the weight.
Hey, this reminds me of Poseidon Michelle thought. Then: Holy cow, my life really is flashing before my eyes!
When the Flying Dutchman was completely above water and the longboat wasn't rocking as much in the water, Michelle saw Will stand up in the boat through blurry eyes.
Damn, I wish I could see this better, she thought hazily. Instead of straining to see, she closed her eyes and concentrated on continuing to breathe, trying to ignore the intense pain in her stomach.
She thought she heard Davy Jones's voice calling to them from aboard the Flying Dutchman.
"I'm here to redeem the debt on my father!" she heard Will yell in response.
Suddenly she felt herself rise, and for a moment she thought her soul was leaving her body or something. She forced her eyes open and realized that Davy Jones was now standing in the small boat, and his weight had caused her end of the boat to rise.
Whoa... she thought weakly. Mad transportaion skillz, I forgot...
Squinting, she saw Jones look her over before Will stepped between them and pulled the bag that held the heart from his shirt. She watched as Jones' eyes widened as Will pulled the still-beating organ from the bag.
Will then drew a knife from his belt. "If you don't let my father go, I'll destroy it," he said threateningly.
Before she realized what had happened, Jones had drawn his sword and lunged at Will.
And just like that, she knew she was about to die.
She knew she couldn't let anyone see her die--what if her body disappeared into her own world?
As she rolled herself over the side of the boat, she barely remembered hitting the water as she felt the sensation of rising in the air...then a bright light...then going through a tunnel...and she was in her laundry room, perfectly dry, healthy, and shell-shocked.
