I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney does. I only own the characters who weren't in the movies, you know, the ones I made up. I also do not own Ambassador Alexander Swann, Isabella Swann, or Count Philip Rochester, who belong to Vilofied.

My body and joints were very sore, and stiff, but I didn't care anymore. I'd accomplished my mission, but I didn't care about that also, because the ship was directed homeward. With this thought in mind I pushed myself the rest of the way up off my bed, my joints popping in protest, and walked slowly to the sea-chest that rested at the foot said piece of furniture, also not caring about the fact that I was naked as I knelt down in front of the chest, because I was soon to be dressed anyway. As I was knelt there on the floor, my wounded left arm close to my body, I humored myself with the fact that there were a lot of things I didn't care about on the ship, which was very unlike me. My duty as Admiral, my wounds, the way the ship was run, and Jack Sparrow. No. Nothing mattered to me but seeing the faces of my wife and child.

I dipped my right hand down in the chest to grasp a pair of deep blue breeches, stockings, and a cream-colored shirt. It took a bit more time and effort for me to get up off the floor, so by the time I reached the bed again I was quite frustrated, as you can imagine. My features twisted into a wince when I had to use my wounded arm to help my good one pull my breeches on, and once that was completed, everything else was easier to do. I had no trouble pulling on my shirt, and my stockings and boots were a bit of a challenge, but I'd grown accustom to it over the course of several weeks.

I chuckled bitterly to myself. It had taken us over three months to find George and his crew, yet now that we knew where we were, and we knew we'd sailed in those waters before, it had only taken us a matter of weeks to make our way back home. Home. Home where my sickly wife would be waiting for me, knowing her...if she hadn't died from poisoning. This was the root of all my carelessness. All of these weeks I've been restless, with hardly any sleep, causing my thoughts to be nothing but a mess, leading me to care nothing of what was going on around me. And what of the baby? Who was taking care of the baby if my wife was hallucinating, weak and helpless as, well, a baby?

"Sir?"

The knock on my cabin door shook me from my ponderings, and I began the slow process of tucking my shirt into my breeches. "Enter."

The cabin door squeeked on its hinges as Theodore Groves entered the room. Theodore didn't look any better than me, to be quite honest. He had some fairly bad wounds as well, and was also sleep deprived. He offered a weak salute, of which I returned, and he closed the door behind him. "Sir, we should be arriving in Port Royal by tonight."

I nodded, and grabbed the cloth sling that rested atop my sea-chest. Theodore came foreward and helped me get it around my neck so it would be easier for me to slide my arm into it. I thanked him, before seating myself on my bunk again. "Tonight, for certain?" I mumured.

"Aye, sir. We're on direct course, and we have a strong wind in our sails. We should be home by sundown." he smiled weakly.

I smiled, weakly as well, before speaking. "You are ready to see Abigail, aren't you?"

"Aye, sir. If I may say so, there is nothing like a woman to calm a wounded and weary man."

"You may say so, Lieutenant." I chuckled. "No, there is nothing like them at all."

"And I don't have to guess that you are ready to see my little sister?" he said softly. "Hopefully...Hopefully she is alright."

I nodded feebly. "Yes...hopefully she is." After a few moments of heavy silence I stood to look out of one of the many windows in my cabin. "Hopefully you are, my love." I whispered as I gazed out at the sea.

"Land ho!"

Oh, I'd never been happier to hear those words! Finally, after months of being on this wretched ship my feet would be able to touch land! I walked briskly, eagerly to the port side railing and placed my good hand on the finely polished wood. I could see it. I could see Jamaica, and more importantly, Port Royal. I gazed at the piece of land almost lovingly, searching the area where I thought my home was.

"Eager to get back to your bonny lass, aye?"

I turned my head slowly to the left, finding Sparrow leaning on his elbows against the railing.

"Indeed." I murmured.

Sparrow smiled his signiture smile. "Anyone could tell by glancing at your face. Be careful, someone might acutally see you smile."

I snorted as I turned my gaze back to the city glowing in the faint light of the setting sun. "I'm not made of stone, you know."

"You really should get that stick out of your arse, Admiral. I'd wager quite a lot of people think you've a heart of stone."

"I'm an Admiral, I'm supposed be strict and commanding. Sailors need a strong, clear-minded figure to lead them."

Sparrow only nodded, before also turning his gaze to the city. "You're going to lock me up as soon as we dock."

I casted my eyes downward. "You know I have to. However, I am going to do my best to get you a pardon, and see if we can earn you the title of 'privateer'."

"'The Scurge of Piracy', mate? The 'Scurge of Piracy' wants to help O'l Jack?" he asked in confusion.

I brought my gaze back to him with a nod. "You saved my life, Mr. Sparrow, I owe you. Like I said, I'm not made of stone."

"What would you like for us to do with Mr. Sparrow, sir?"

I made my way to the gangplank before turning to answer the question. "Put Mr. Sparrow in irons, and take him to a cell in the fort. If he needs anything, see to it, or you'll answer to me."

The marine that had addressed me furrowed his brows, but saluted none the less.

I returned his salute, before anxiously making my way down the gangplank. I'm certain I was quite a site to the few citizens that were gathered at the docks, waiting to see their family members or sweethearts. I was in naught but my cream-colored shirt and blue breeches, my feet were bare, and I wore no hat or wig. My hair, which I had cropped due to the heat, and sheer frustration at the difficulty in taking care of it once it had grown long, was mussed up and dirty. This is how Chrissy must have felt when she first arrived in Port Royal. People were staring at me and murmuring, just as they had at Chrissy. I even saw children and young ladies pointing at me, saying, "That's Admiral Norrington? That filthy man there? Has he gone mad?"

I only ignored them, my mind set on one place and person. I found the nearest waiting carriage and gave the driver the directions before climbing in. The ride seemed to take a life time, but the site of my home lit up in the night was well worth every aching minute. I climbed out of the carriage wearily, surprised when I stumbled and was caught by Oliver.

"Father!" he mumured. "You're home!"

"Where is Chrissy?" I asked tiredly.

Oliver didn't answer. Oliver just stood and looked at me with pity as I steadied myself. It was then that I heard the footsteps of others. Alexander, Isabella, and Philip had all rushed out on the porch.

"James!" Isabella breathed, rushing to me. She pulled me to her gently, holding me to her for a while before speaking. "You're home."

"Yes," I nodded, hugging her with my good arm. "Where is my wife?"

Isabella didn't answer, but gave me a pitied look, just as Oliver had.

Frustrated, I pulled away. "Why won't anyone answer me?! Where is she?"

Then I saw her. Chrissy was like a pale shadow in the doorway of our home, thin and weak, having to lean on the doorframe for support.

"Darling..." I breathed, taking my sling off so that I could open my arms to her.

Chrissy stood and stared at me for a few moments as though wondering if I were real, before rushing to me, my name passing her lips several times.

She stumbled when she was but a few feet from me, and I had to lunge forward a bit to catch her. I lowered her and myself to the ground, cradling her like a sickly child. "Dear God..." I whispered. "You're as pale as a sheet!"

Chrissy, my darling Chrissy was pale white, and seemed to have lost her glow. Her hair and eyes were dull, and I thought I could feel her bones poking me from beneath her nightgown. She seemed to have no strength from the way she was barely clutching my shirt, and she felt very, very light.

"I've found you!" she whispered. "I've been searching for you for so long..." she smiled. "I've been wandering about the jungle for weeks."

At that very moment I felt my heart shatter. She'd been having hallucinations. I looked up at the others, who were only looking on sympathetically. With what little strength I had left I lifted my wife and entered my home, and began the agonizing climb up the grand staircase.

"Aren't you happy to see me?" My wife asked. "I've been searching for you for so long! Where have you been?"

Oh, how my chest ached when I looked down at her pallid face! I offered her the best smile I could produce, and placed a kiss on her forehead. "I can't find words good enough to explain how happy I am to see you. I am sorry I had to go away." By this time I was in our bedroom, and I shut the door with my foot before easing Chrissy down on our bed.

"Please don't go again." A worried expression took over her features, and she sat up as quickly as she could. "You won't leave again, will you? Please don't go!" she cried.

I gathered her up in my arms, not caring about the pain in my bad one, and placed a lingering kiss on her pale lips as tears entered my eyes. "Never again. I won't leave you ever again, my love. I'm going to resign from my position in the Navy as quickly as I can, so I can take care of you."

"You'll do that for me?" she asked, sounding like a small child.

"Yes!" I whispered passionately. "Yes, of course. I'm going to resign, and then I'm going to take you back to England...where the environment will do you good. We'll live out in the country, and raise our child there."

I laid her down on the mattress and was in the process of laying beside her, when she pulled me down atop her body. "Make love to me." she murmured.

I winced as I took in her pale, sickly features. "You are too weak." I whispered. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Don't give me that!" she cried. "I've been wandering around the junge for months, trying to find you, please don't deny me this!" she sobbed.

"Darling? Darling, listen to me. We aren't in the jungle, we are in Port Royal, in our home, Norrington Mannor." I whispered tearfully as I stroked her hair.

She furrowed her brows, and cupped my cheeks in her small, seemingly frail hands. "No we aren't. We are on the island, see? That is a tree with vines hanging off of it."

Turning in the direction that Chrissy's finger was pointing, I found that 'tree' to be a chair with a jacket slung over it. I looked back to my wife with pity written on my features. "That isn't a tree, darling, that is a chair with a jacket draped over it."

"No," she said slowly, "That is a tree, James. Where have you been for so long that has tampered with your sight, love? Why did you go?"

A sigh passed my lips, and I couldn't hold myself back any longer. I dipped my head down and claimed my wife's lips, kissing her with every fiber of strength I had left. "I went somewhere far away, because I was forced." I whispered breathlessly. "I didn't want to leave, but I couldn't do anything about it. I was tortured in more ways than one, dear. I am sorry I had to leave you here."

Hungerly I ravished her lips again, not daring to pull away until I was certain they were swollen, before I started placing lighter kisses along her neck.

"I've missed you." she whispered.

"And I you." I murmured against her shoulder. "I am sorry I had to leave you...your condition is my fault."

"My condition?" she asked.

I paused, realizing she didn't have the slightest idea what she was talking about. "Uhm...your lack of strength, and the reason you are so pale, and fragile; it is my fault."

Again, my wife cupped my cheeks in her small hands, and smiled weakly at me. "It isn't your fault, love. I will get better, and while I get better, we will wait for a ship to get us off of this island, and go back to England as you've said."

"Yes," I nodded. "We'll do that."

"Why do you look worried, James?"

I also offered a weak smile, and pressed a kiss to one of her palms. "I am concerned about your health, sweetheart, and how sailing to England will affect it."

She only continued to smile as she began to rub my shoulders. "Let's not worry about then...let's worry about now. I want to love you. I just want to be close to you, and love you. I want you to love me." she whispered.

With a slightly larger smile and an 'I love you', I did as my wife wished.

Something was making a loud sound. Something, somewhere in the house, was making a loud sound of which had woken me from my slumber. Upon waking up a bit more and listening a bit closer, I realized that sound was crying; a baby's crying.

I slowly removed myself from the covers and mattress with a yawn, and stood up in the dark to fumble around for my breeches. I found them and my shirt, and applied them before making for the door. My fingers had barely grasped the doorknob when I heard sheets rustling.

"Darling?" Came the mumur of my wife's tired voice.

"Yes, dear?" I said softly as I turned, finding her with the covers pulled shyly over her.

"Bring her in here; I've been sick, and haven't been able to attend her. I want to see our baby."

I smiled, even though I knew she couldn't tell. "Yes, darling, I'll bring her in here."

I exited our room and crossed the hallway silently, pausing momenarily to listen to the crying through the door. How would little Melody react to seeing me after all this time? Would she recognize me, or just see me as a stranger? Deciding I didn't want to wait anymore I opened the door, and stepped into the light-pink room tinted slightly purple by the blue moonlight. Straight away I could see the white bassinet pressed against the wall directly in front of me, and I could see little hands and feet punching and kicking at the air.

My heart swelled at the thought and fact that those hands and feet were of my own flesh and blood, that the now soft crying belonged my daughter...my child. I made it to the bassinet in just a few quick strides, and smiled down at the little figure that looked up at me. "Good morning." I murmured as I lifted the still kicking and punching figure up into my arms and against my chest. "Do you remember me, sweetheart?"

I could see Melody's little eyes...eyes that looked just like mine, glowing as she stared up at me, though she continued to cry. Her little fingers wrapped around my larger ones when I laid my hand on her blanket-covered chest and belly, and her cries grew slightly softer, though they didn't stop.

"What is wrong, love?" I whispered against her forehead before placing a kiss there. "What ails you?"

Even as I spoke softly to her I walked back to the bedroom, never taking my eyes from her until I was actually in the room. Chrissy was dressed in a nightgown and lighting a candle, spreading a bit of light across the bed and a bit of the floor when we entered.

She smiled at us despite the pain in her eyes from her weakness, and she held her arms open. "Bring her here."

I returned her smile and made my way to the bed, easing myself next to her once I was there. I began to set the baby in her arms, when another sad look came across my wife's features, and I stopped to study her for a few moments. "What is it?"

"My arms." she whispered. "I think I am too weak to hold her, and I fear I may drop her."

"Fold your arms as though you're going to hold her." I instructed. "I will help you hold her."

"How are you-"

"Just do it." I told her softly. When she did so I eased our child into her arms, and put my arms under hers, supporting both her arms and the baby, and smiled down at her as I rested my chin on my wife's shoulder. "She's stopped crying, and she looks happier."

Chrissy smiled as well, and pressed a kiss to my temple before looking back down at Melody, who had begun to coo and make soft baby noises. "I think she knows we're a family again...and after all this time, she's finally being cradled by familiar arms."

"Indeed." I smiled.

Yeah, I know the end of the chapter is a bit...cheesy, but that's all I could come up with while I was so tired, Lol! Happy Easter, I hope you enjoyed this! Please review to find out what happens next! Thank you!