FOR YOUR EYES ONLY

44—Fallout

DISCLAIMER: Jack'n'Lizzie etc. do not belong to me. I make no money from the writing of this fan-fiction.

A/N: I just want to thank everyone for your wonderful reviews and supreme support and encouragement. I know a mere "thank you," doesn't quite cover it, but it's all I got. *Sends everyone virtual milk and cookies* I know this chapter is a bit short, but I wanted to get it out right away, and the end didn't lend itself into a smooth transition with what I wanted to write next. The next chapter will be longer.

Second-off, I dedicate this chapter to my ever-supportive mom, who has encouraged my writing (fan-fic or not) from whence it started way back in the third grade. Thanks, mamma, and happy birthday!

Enjoy!

Elizabeth watched, her mind moving in rapid faction for words that would not come. She wanted to address Will, and so did Rosalind, who had appeared behind her—but the gun in James' hands left everyone silent, their standstill proceeding.

Despite her lingering guilt from the night of the hurricane, she was about to (again) appeal to her former fiancée in an emotional sense, to plead with him in any way she could to take her current fiancée out of the line of fire, of which he was so often in. But before she had the chance to approach her pirate-based prowess and bat her eyelashes in his direction, two of Jack's new "recruits" came stampeding from the sidelines and grabbed his arm.

"Easy there, sailor!" one of them shouted.

"That's our capt'n yer threat'n!" shouted the other.

James, taken quite off-guard by this, nearly toppled over as his arm was directed upwards. The gun unexpectedly fired and somewhere in the background, Elizabeth heard glass breaking. Chaos ensued and she felt Jack take hold of her hand.

"Time to go?" asked Gibbs, approaching him through the rapidly building pandemonium.

"Time to go," Jack agreed. "Come on, Lizzie. Ros, you too."

"What about Will?" Rosalind cried, looking into the brawling crowd in which Will had been enveloped.

"And James—we can't leave him," Elizabeth protested.

"We can and we will. This is no place for either of you," Jack disagreed. He started to shuffle them towards the nearest exit. "Gibbs, fetch the boy," he swiftly ordered, "and meet us at the Pearl."

Rosalind argued no further argument, but looked over her shoulder worriedly as Jack place his hand on the small of both ladies' backs, ushering them away. Elizabeth, however, abruptly dug in her heels and crossed her arms, glaring at him defiantly.

"Lizzie, you know more'n anyone how I admire your stubbornness, but now is not the time," he said firmly. Rosalind shrieked as two drunken brawlers toppled into her, nearly knocking her over. Elizabeth was forced to fight against her instincts and stay put. She had too.

"Not for you, perhaps, but I refuse to leave."

"Lizzie—"

"I nearly killed him once and I always swore that if I had a chance to make it right without sacrificing your freedom, I would do it. You saw the state of him just as well as I. He has no jurisdiction anymore."

Jack stared at her—partly annoyed but mostly immensely proud of her fierce ability to stand up for herself and fight for her opinion. That was something he hadn't truly seen since his mother died.

"There you are!" Will appeared from the mob and Rosalind immediately leapt to him, throwing her arms around his waist.

"Orders, capt'n?" Gibbs asked, quickly ducking a flying bottle which collided into the wall behind their heads and splintered into a thousand pieces, droplets of alcohol spraying everywhere.

"You and William corral the crew and get her out of here," Jack instructed. Rosalind had yet to learn how to wield a sword and for the time being, she would be more of a hindrance than anything else. But he kept this to himself, to spare her feelings and have Lizzie be even more cross with him than she already was. Gibbs nodded and Will looked slightly irritated, which Jack knew had something to do with his inability to show off his impressive (even though Jack wouldn't admit it) swordsmanship. But he did was he was told and the three of them quickly disappeared into the mob, Will fending off would-be brawlers as they went.

"You know how to use it," Jack said, smirking and nodding towards the sword on Elizabeth's belt. She hadn't the time to thank him, however, as she heard a loud grunt behind her and a burly pirate twice her size was ready to fight.

She half-expected Jack to come rushing to her aide, but he himself was already immersed in combat. She knew that when given the choice of "fight or flight," he preferred flight, but when given no choice, he was a damn good fighter. Anyone would be more than lucky to have the great Captain Jack Sparrow on their side.

She took out her opponent by swiftly knocking the sword out of his hand and taking him down by offering a swift kick between the legs—she was not above fighting dirty if she had to. Most of the men around her were fighting hand-to-hand, and those she avoided. Jack had taught her enough about how to use her sword and pistol, but if left without them, she bore the disadvantage.

Her weapon left many uninspired to take her on, and so she focused more on finding James in the confusion around them. Jack was somewhere behind her and she knew she need not worry about him. She turned sharply to her left and by what must have been sheer coincidence, she caught James stumbling out from the crowd. He didn't notice her and instead tilted his head back, taking a long swig from a bottle that must have been left unattended by someone else along the way.

Elizabeth quickly lunged for him, dodging attacks left and right, and grabbed him by the wrist. He turned sharply towards her, ready to fight as best he could despite his drunken stupor, when he realized it was her.

"Elizabeth…" he started, his face softening for a brief moment and he smiled at her. Then he just looked confused. "When did you get here?"

"When did I—" her eyes widened and a piece of her heart broke right then and there. She had no details to go on, nothing exact had been conveyed to her, but she knew where this was coming from. From the sheer appearance of him, she knew his life had spiraled out of control, and she knew exactly when that downward spiral started. This was her doing.

"Never mind that now," she said gently, but loudly, so as to be heard over the roar of their surroundings. "We need to get out of here."

"I'm not goin' anywhere with you, wench!" he spat, taking another long sip from his bottle. She rolled her eyes, half convinced he wasn't really aware of what he was saying. But if he was, she wouldn't argue with him. She deserved his hatred.

"Come on," she persisted, tugging on him and pulling him towards the center of the room, where there seemed to be less chaos and where she could more easily spot Jack. About halfway there, however, she was sidetracked by another rum-toting brute who wanted to fight. Again, he was bigger than her, and stronger, too. She was beginning to tire and one false mood could be fatal.

She was distracted as it was, not knowing what had happened to James, when her opponent quickly smacked her hand with his sword-wielding fist, knocking her own weapon out of reach. He was large and bald and knowing he'd won the advantage, he grinned a nearly toothless grin at her. She began to fumble for her pistol, more than ready to use it if she had to, but he was too fast, and he backhanded her. Her cheek immediately stung as she found herself flung to the floor.

She quickly flipped onto her back and tried to scramble away, but her opponent's shadow loomed over her and she couldn't get far as she found herself awash in a sea of boots. She winced, prepared for a blow as she saw him raise his sword, when out of nowhere the tip of an unseen attacker's sword quickly slashed across his face. The brute wailed in pain and she looked up to see Jack standing above her, scowling. With his available hand, he swooped down and latched onto her, pulling her to her feet.

"My sword," was all she could say, her head darting around in search of it. "I've lost my sword!"

"Forget it, it doesn't matter," he said quickly.

"That's it!" Before he could administer to her, Norrington was once again causing a scene, brandishing his bottle around as if it were a weapon. "Form an orderly line; I'll have you all one by one!"

The room fell silent as he continued to embarrass himself.

"And that's the man you wanted to stay for," Jack said lowly, shaking his head.

"Come on, whose fast?!" Norrington continued.

At this point, Elizabeth had had enough. Maybe it was being smacked across the face, maybe it was nearly being gutted, but she was finished. She marched over to him, snatched the bottle from his hand and smashed it quickly over his head. The room immediately erupted into cheers and applause, and before she could bend down to help the fallen former commodore to his feet, a large group of rowdy men were hauling him up into their arms. She watched, rather helplessly, as they carried him off towards the door. She looked over her shoulder when she felt Jack lightly take hold of her elbow.

"Ye've done all ye can for him now, Lizzie. S'time to go."

Elizabeth sighed. "Unfortunately, not yet." She left him standing there as she walked to where they'd carried James and by the time she reached the door, they were all cavorting and laughing again, James not among them. She squeezed out, unnoticed, to the vast and horribly pungent vat of mud in which he'd been disposed.

She carefully knelt down beside him and gently placed one hand on his back. "James Norrington," she said his name softly, sadly. He had just enough strength to look up at her, his eyes wide and almost frightened. "What have I done to you?"

She looked up when she heard another pair of boots, Jack's, squishing in the mud on James' opposite side. "Come on," he sighed. She watched as he tucked his hands under James' arm, preparing to lift him.

"Perhaps we could acquire a room for him? Just so I can leave knowing he'll be someplace safe?"

"Nonsense," Jack grimaced. "You'll never be satisfied with that—yer heart's too big for it. He'll come with us. And not as a part to satisfy my debt."

Elizabeth stared at him, his tenderness taking her off-guard and her eyes threatening to spill over with tears. "Thank you," she said. He only smiled and nodded and together they hauled him to his feet.

A/N: That's it for now—short, I know, but the next one will be longer. And next time I'll be including more on that whole "death is a choice" thing I've been throwing around. ;-)

Reviews are greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading!