"Nothing in the world is the way it ought to be. It's harsh, and cruel. But that's why there's us-champions. Doesn't matter where we come from, what we've done or suffered, or even if we make a difference. We live as though the world is as it should be, to show it what it can be."

~Angel; Angel

Demon Called Deception

Chapter Twenty Three: Time

Destiny stood silently at the aft. Her dark eyes stared at the burning wreckage of the Devil's Shadow, the flames glittering in her dark pupils. A sense of satisfaction tore through her as she watched the ship sink to the watery depths. Her right hand clutched her left arm, cradling the wounded arm to her stomach.

The Silent Whisper and the Black Pearl had both come out of the battle mostly unscathed. No deaths that she was aware of and only minor injuries. The Shadow had had no chance against two of the greatest pirate ships in the Caribbean. Destiny's eyes turned to the island. She couldn't hear anything from the island. She had no way of knowing if everyone was all right.

All she had was her hope and her trust in her captain.

Titus was laughing. Oh, how he was laughing. Everything had worked out to plan. Everything he had ever lived for; everything he had come back for was about to come true. Oh, how he loved deception. Skinner had played his part perfectly, distracting the pirates from the real enemy in their midst. No one had even suspected that there could possibly be someone else watching them; that there could be someone else pulling their strings.

A surge in the air around him drew his attention away from the battle raging in front of him. Soon there would be no more of Skinner's men. Sparrow's crew was holding their own.

Titus's smile grew wider as he saw the doorway begin to glow again. Yes. All of his plans were working perfectly. Soon Prisis's descendant would come through that door and then it would all be his. Everything that he used to control; everything that he used to rule would be his again.

And now it wouldn't just be this measly island that he controlled. Now it would be everything. The world would bow at his feet. That bitch of a captain would wait on him hand and foot. What he couldn't get from her ancestor he would get from her. Titus already knew how strong she was and he was looking forward to breaking her; taking her pride and spirit. She would do nothing but live for him.

A form materialized in the entrance, the glow from the doorway casting their features in shadows. Titus laughed again and turned his gaze to the people fighting below. Oh yes it was all about to end. And he knew exactly how to end it.

Emory walked slowly. Her mind was reeling. There had been too much to find out; too much to absorb. What had they shown her? Why had it been shown to her? Was it just to play games with her? Was it just all part of the test she had to take? It had been so peaceful. A vision of something that a part of her deep down had always wanted but had always denied: a family of her own; something that she had never had.

Emory looked down at the object she was carrying. It was such a tiny piece of jewelry; such a thin piece of metal. It was hard to believe that everyone was fighting over this; that this was what everyone coveted. What a silly thing to cherish.

Even as Emory thought this she knew that it wasn't something to just hand away. It was powerful. She felt as if electricity was running through her fingers and coursing through her veins. Her skin hummed as if covered with tiny bolts of lightning. Every piece of her felt whatever it was course through her. She felt as if she were everywhere and yet at the same time nowhere. So many things were visible to her now.

She felt as if time around her was colliding and separating at the same time. The past merged with her present; tomorrow played with yesterday and touched upon today. Visions of what had happened and what might occur all played in her mind's eye. Time was hers now. Emory frowned slightly at the thought. No. She belonged to Time and it was a master she would serve well.

A sudden image noticed at the corner of her eye caused her breath to catch in her throat. A vision of something that had yet to transpire. "No," she whispered. And then she was running down the few stairs, her eyes intent only on one person.

Tristan kicked out with his right foot, sweeping his opponent's feet out from under him. The man fell with a thud, his head jerking back with a crack as it hit the stone of the temple. He had noticed the flash moments before. She was back. Emory was back. Tristan smiled to himself and stabbed his sword into the man's chest. He looked up at the now dim doorway and caught Emory's eye. A perplexed look crossed her face for a moment before a look of horror replaced it.

He watched as she launched herself off of the stairs, running towards him. Tristan watched her for a moment, confused until he felt the shock of pain pierce through his chest. Though numbness had begun to course through his body he felt as a hand wrapped itself around his throat from behind and jerked his head back. "She will watch as you die," a voice said in his ear just as the sword was shoved deeper into him.

From the bottom of his eyes he could see the tip of the sword pierce the front of his chest. He bit back the scream as the sword was yanked back out and the hand that had been around his neck disappeared. Tristan stared down at the blooming crimson beginning to stain his shirt. He couldn't breath. He coughed as he tried to make his lungs function. Tristan crumpled to his knees, his legs no longer able to sustain his weight. Everything had become so cold.

Tristan barely felt the abrasion form on his cheek as he hit the floor, his blood pooling out below him. But he felt the warm hand touch his back, felt the terror coursing through those thin, shaking fingers as they clutched the course shirt he wore. "Tristan," the soft voice whispered, almost drowned out by the swords and gunfire around them. "Tristan answer me!"

He coughed again and attempted to lift himself up but his arms held no strength. A bout of sad laughter met his ears. "Don't try to get up, you idiot."

"No," he whispered, his voice muted. "Want . . . want to see . . ."

"What?"

"You," he breathed.

The hand clenched tighter on his shirt and then another hand pulled on his good shoulder, lifting him up slightly to turn him over. Emory placed his head on her lap and brushed the hair from his eyes. Tristan gazed up at her, her face blurred. He thought he caught a trickle of something down her cheek. "Are you crying?" he asked.

She chuckled. He knew it was one of pain. "You know I don't cry. Are you trying to say I've grown soft?"

A sad smile crossed his lips. "Always trying to be so strong," he whispered. He lifted one hand slowly and touched her cheek, his own blood smearing on her skin slightly. "Don . . . don't be . . . afraid to cry."

"Don't talk," Emory said quietly, leaning over him, her lips hovering over his. "Everything will be fine."

With a last surge of strength, Tristan twisted his fingers through her hair and pulled her the last few inches to his face. He kissed her roughly, holding her to him. He closed his eyes as he let her go, pushing her away slightly. "Don't be afraid to show emotion," his voice was barely above a sigh. "And don't ever forget that I . . . I have always loved you."

Emory stared down at him, wide eyed. No. He would not do this. He would not leave her like this! His grip on her neck relaxed, his hand falling down, his fingers brushing her skin as they fell. She clenched her eyes tightly, fighting back the tears that she knew were threatening to spill. "I love you too," she whispered, touching her forehead to his.

"Isn't this a sad sight."

Emory jerked up at the voice. She shifted slightly, laying Tristan's head on the hard ground and then whirled to her feet, her hands reaching for weapons that weren't there. "I'll kill you," she hissed through clenched teeth.

Titus merely laughed. "Oh that's been tried before. Prisis failed so what makes you think that you can succeed where she didn't?"

"I am not Prisis."

A grin crossed his face. "Oh but you are. I see her look in you. Everything you say and do mimics her," Titus stepped closer to her. "But your future will be different. You will be mine."

Emory felt her hands begin to shake. She wanted to kill this man. She wanted to destroy him for everything that he had done and everyone that he had hurt. She could still feel the tears behind her eyes but now they were no longer tears of hurt, but tears of anger. Emory would not let him get away with what he'd done.

"You will give me the treasure," he whispered, making her jump, her hand clenching tighter around the armlet. How had he gotten so close without her noticing? "You will give it to me or I will kill everyone that you care about. I will destroy what little happiness you have made for yourself in your sad little life. And I will start with your father."

Emory flinched away from Titus' touch and words. She needed a weapon. "No," she said, turning her gaze to stare in his eyes. "I am going to kill you where you stand."

"No. You will do as I say. You will obey me or I will make you suffer."

Her eyes flicked around the room, searching for any weapon around her that she could use. Finally her eyes settled on the sword laying just to the left of her. Tristan's sword. A pain coursed through her. A flash of loss that she had never felt, never wanted to feel, surged through every bone, every pore in her body. She mentally shook her head. She needed to stay focused. She needed to pay attention to the task at hand.

Killing the bastard standing in front of her before he could kill anyone else.

"So are you going to be a good little girl and do what I tell you to?" Titus asked as he pressed closer to her, one finger tracing her jaw line.

"Not on your life you son of a bitch," she snarled and then punched him in the side, pushing him away. She swiveled on her feet, bending at the waist to pick up the sword beside her. Her fingers brushed the sword, her hand was almost around the hilt when the gunshot rang out; when the gunshot drew her up short.

Emory looked up and met the angry glare radiating from Titus. A sadistic grin crossed his lips as she watched. Her breath hitched in her throat as she followed the line of the pistol. She found Jack just in time to see him start to crumple. "Dad!" she yelled, not even realizing she had. At the same time another voice called out, "Jack!"

Emory jumped to her feet and started to run towards him but was stopped by a rough grip on her arm; a grip that swung her back around. Before she lost sight of him she saw Will kill the men he was fighting and turn to Jack's side, catching the captain before he fell. But it was too late. She knew it was. It was always too late.

"Now do you see you stupid bitch? Do you see what happens when you disobey me? Now give me what I want or I swear I will pick them all off one by one until there is no one left."

Her mind was blank. She could see nothing, hear nothing, and feel nothing. Everything and everyone was lost. There was nothing she could do. She couldn't save anyone. He would win. Emory could feel the tears roll down her cheeks and it was a foreign feeling. She had not cried since her mother had died fifteen years earlier

"Captain! Captain get a hold of yourself! This is not over yet!"

Conway's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. This wasn't like her. She was not one to give up. She did not give in this easily. She would fight. She would kill the bastard. She would make him suffer like never before.

Titus shook her hard. "Do you hear me? Do you understand what I am saying?"

Emory's gaze flashed up to his, her eyes hardening, the tears drying. "Yes."

"Good. Then give me the treasure. Give it to me and I will spare everyone."

Emory tore free from his grasp, taking a few steps back from him. She raised her arm, holding the armlet out to him, the jewelry hanging from her upraised palm. "If you want it, then take it."

Titus stared at her. He wasn't sure if he could trust her.

"I have no tricks, Titus," she said calmly. "I'm doing what is best for my crew. My family."

His eyes narrowed as he stared in hers, looking for any hint of treachery. Finally, satisfied that she wasn't lying to him, he reached out and took hold of the piece of silver. Emory's grip tightened on it before he could pull away. She yanked him closer to her. "You never learn do you?" she asked, her eyes flashing silver.

Alost immediately time slowed around them, the sounds of the fighting halted. There was no sound, no movements save for Emory breathing. Not even Titus in front of her moved. Her eyes narrowed. She was confused. What was going on?

You have stopped Time, a voice said, coming from nowhere and yet everywhere around her.

Emory's hand dropped from the treasure as she turned around. A tall, glowing man walked towards her, his long silver hair was pulled back in a ponytail, his white robes hung around his shoulders. He stopped a few feet in front of her, a kind smile on his face. I remember you. It was long ago, but I remember you. He spoke, but did not speak. It was as if his words were directly placed into her mind.

"Chronos," she stated.

He nodded his head slightly. It is a pleasure, child of Prisis. It has been long since I have met someone in my world. Tell me, what do you think of my island? He asked, sweeping his arm out to encompass their surroundings.

She paused. "I think it was beautiful once."

His smile turned wistful. It was. His face turned cloudy, his grey eyes hardening as he turned to look at the frozen form of Titus. Until this man destroyed everything. His selfishness ruined all that I had worked for.

"And yet you let him live."

I showed compassion, but it was misplaced. I cursed him to forever watching Time but to never be a part of it. It was when your mother conceived that he broke free. Had no bearer bore twins none of this would have ever happened. Everything would have been safe.

A smile broke across his face as he turned to her. But I see that you have inherited Prisis's fire. That is why she was chosen to be the first Guardian. I knew that she would protect it with her life.

"And why you cursed her family as well. All of this," Emory swept out her arms. "All of this is happening because of this so called Gift."

Chronos walked towards her, a sad smile on his face. There are many things that can still not be explained. The reason I did not take back my Gift is one of them.

"For that I have lo-," her voice cracked. Emory could feel the unwanted tears beginning to build pressure behind her eyes again. "For that I have lost everyone I cared about! So many lives have been destroyed because of that bloody item! I have-I-"

Emory crumpled to her knees, physically and mentally exhausted from everything that had transpired. Everything was weighing down on her. She had tried to bear it for so long; tried to hold it all inside for as long as she could. There was no room for a pirate captain with emotions. There was no room for a captain with a weakness. But yet here she was, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks and her legs unable to hold her. She was a mess and she hated it.

You do not have to lose anything, my dear, he replied, kneeling down next to her and grasping the bottom of her chin. He lifted her head up slowly so that her eyes would meet his. All of this can be fixed. Everything that was not meant to be, that was wronged, can be righted.

Emory stared at him, trying to read anything in his grey eyes. When she finally spoke it was in a crushed whisper. "What do you mean?"

His smile was sad. If you can finish this; if you can finally destroy him once and for all and fix my mistake, then you need not lose anyone. Everyone that has died here; every mistake that has been made will be righted. I can change all of this. None of this needs to have happened. Can you do me this favor?

"Will everything be changed? Will all of this change?"

Chronos nodded. I will reset what has happened here. From right after you completed your trial; before he killed your lover. They will live if you can stop him before that happens, if you can finish this. Use this, he held up his hand, the armlet suddenly resting in his palm. Use this and you will be able to stop him.

"How?"

You will know when the time comes. It is yours by right. Take it.

"What will happen after this is over?"

You will live your life as you wish. You will protect this Gift, but it will be as if it does not exist. The Gift will become a part of you but you will not change. The ­­­charge I gave Prisis and her family will be lifted. All of this will be over.

Emory nodded slightly, slowly understanding his words. "There will be no map, no curse on my family?"

No.

Emory lifted her hand, her fingertips barely touching the thin silver armlet. The treasure disappeared instantaneously. She could feel it. She could feel as it traveled up her arm, the tiny tendrils of silver shivered up her veins, wrapping themselves under her skin. Emory gasped as it tugged at her arm, felt a slight pain as it bore into the muscles her upper arm. She looked down once the ache subsided, her eyes tracing the newly made vine-like design on her bicep.

"What is this?"

A hand on her head was all that was her answer. Finish this my child.

With that she felt her body go weightless. Everything around her was moving, going in reverse. All the events that had transpired were playing back around her. She felt a pull in her chest as her eyes scanned over the staircase on the other side of the temple. Emory closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. It was all going to be over soon. When she reopened her eyes she was once again standing at the top of the stairs, everyone back where they were before she had exited the doorway.

With a sudden surge the people started to move again; the sounds of fighting bombarded her ears. Emory's gaze snapped across the room to where she knew Tristan stood. She watched as he fought against his own foe; watched as he swept the man's feet out from under him. She watched as Titus' form materialized behind him and she knew with every fiber of her being that if she didn't move then she would be too late.

Emory also knew with dead certainty that she would not make it to him even if she ran as fast as she could.

"No," she whispered, "not again." She felt the tug in her chest again as she waited for what was coming. She wouldn't let him die. Not again. The tug grew stronger, making her feel as if someone was grabbing her from the inside, grabbing hold of everything inside of her, and pulling with all of their might. I won't let him die again.

And then she was next to him. Acting on reflex, moving without ever realizing she had, Emory pulled the dagger from Tristan's belt and slammed it into Titus's chest, getting to him before he could even register she was there.

His shocked eyes turned to look into hers, taking note of the steely calm that was held there. Everything faded around her as Emory watched the light begin to dim in his eyes. She held her gaze firm as his own gaze drifted down. "How-?" he began and then caught sight of the marking on her arm. A knowing smile crossed his face. "Ah." He stated and then began to fall back.

Emory's grip loosened on the hilt of the dagger, her fingers already slick with his blood. She felt the soft gust of wind blow through her hair as if a sigh had gone through the room. Emory stared down at Titus's lifeless body, not quite believing that he was dead. A hand touched her shoulder, pulling her from her thoughts. She turned around to face Tristan, still not quite registering her surroundings.

"How-?" he started but was silenced as Emory grabbed hold of the back of his neck and pulled him down to her, capturing his lips in a hungry kiss. She poured everything she had into that kiss; poured all of her emotions through to him. All of her fear, her anger, her hurt; everything that she was made up of she gave to him.

Tristan could feel her surrender in the way she pressed her body against his, the way her arms wrapped around the back of his neck. Her entire body had relaxed to a point that she had never allowed it to go before. She was giving in to him entirely.

"I thought I had lost you," she whispered against his lips; they were the only words that she had ever uttered that were even close to admitting how she felt about him.

"I'm not going anywhere."

Emory laughed and pulled away. "Not anymore."

A loud crash to their left drew their attention away from the other. The fighting was continuing in front of them, each pirate holding their own in the fight for their lives. "I guess we should help them," Tristan said, grabbing hold of her hand and squeezing it for a moment.

"If we must."

The door in the house flew open, letting in every bit of rain as it blew past. Elizabeth walked out of the kitchen, at first not even registering the shadowy figure standing in the doorway until it was upon her. Not even a scream welled up as the figure grabbed hold of her arms and pulled her to them. She was ready to kick and fight until one word was uttered.

"Elizabeth."

Her eyes grew wide. "Will? Oh God Will."

Elizabeth threw her arms around him, pulling him as close to her as possible. He was soaked to the bone, his clothes dripping puddles onto the wooden floor. Her heart was pounding. She never thought this day would come. She had dreams that he never returned home. Her worry and her doubt had almost gotten the best of her, but she had held out hope that he would return.

"You're back," she whispered, her hands fluttering over him to find any wounds, any missing pieces.

"We all are."

Elizabeth looked over his shoulder to find Michel and Alex standing in the doorway, Rebecca just behind them. She looked up in Will's eyes, worry etched in her own as she noticed one missing person from their group. "James?" she whispered.

Will smiled. "Home. He went home to see Emily. He's fine."

"Mrs. Turner is everything all right?" Thomas called, stepping out of the kitchen where he and Elizabeth had been sitting. He looked weary, his concern for Rebecca wearing down on him. When he noticed the group standing in the doorway he paused. The next thing he knew he was running down the hallway, pushing past Will and Elizabeth still standing in the hall and pulling Rebecca into his arms.

"Thom- Mr. Norrington," Rebecca stated, stunned.

"I thought I had lost you," he whispered.

"It's, um, it's all right. I'm all right."

He pulled back, seemingly oblivious to the people around him. "You're not hurt?"

Rebecca smiled. "Bruised mostly. There were others much worse off than I am."

"Jack?" Elizabeth asked after she had hugged her two sons tight. "I don't see Jack."

Will sighed. "Jack and Emory have already set sail. They said-at least Jack said- that they will be back. All we have to do," he said, turning her around to where she could see vague outlines of two ships sailing away and wrapping his arms around her from behind, "is keep a weather eye on the horizon."

AN: It has been a long absence. Too long for my tastes really, but I have had issues writing. I did not want to write this chapter due to the fact that the next chapter will be the last. This chapter, honestly, is dedicated with a big heartfelt thanks to Grumblebear who, without her this would have never been finished. She is the one who urged me to complete this, even though she has never read it, because I will feel accomplished at having finished it. I think she was just tired of hearing me complain about my writer's block! J