Walking to the crew's quarters after first watch that night, I began to feel the exhaustion of the day. Between keeping up a male appearance and doing the work of someone much younger than I was, I had little energy left in my body to spare. For some reason, even the ache in my limbs brought back memories. Perhaps it was being on a ship, feeling the mixture of sea and air and freedom for the first time in years… or perhaps it was something else like the presence of my husband in the state he was in. Either way, memories came lapping at my brain like the waves against the ship. I couldn't stop them.

It became more difficult with each passing day, but I could remember the time in my life when I would have had the strength to do the day of work I had just done… and more. My first years as a pirate with Hector were among those times. Back then, I had done the work of the crew (if for nothing else out of a sheer stubbornness to prove myself to them). At night, when there was nothing left to be done, I would pick up a sword and force Hector into another lesson with it. No matter how much he complained, I knew he looked forward to it as much as I did. Then, when neither of us could hold the blades strait in our hands anymore, we would make our way to his quarters. Even then, it would be hours until we feel asleep in each other's arms.

I was remembering one of those night in particular, when the combination of talking and making love had kept us up nearly until sunrise, when I felt a hand grab me. I could feel my body being shoved into a room off to the side. What strength there was left in my body tried to resist. Being exhausted and at a disadvantage in strength, I had no choice but to follow the direction of the pull in spite of my struggling, through a doorway and into a room slightly until the door slammed shut. Then, I found myself pushed up against the hard, wooden door being held in place by a pair of familiar arms and stared at angrily by a pair of blue eyes.

"Morgan!" Hector's voice spat my name close to my face. I looked at him in confusion in one last attempt to save my weeks of planning and design.

"Sir?" My voice was as he had heard before, only even more careful now being so close to him.

"I know its you, Morgan!" he said as loud as he dared. If it had been possible for his voice to be more angry than it had been before, it was then. "Puttin' on a uniform and bindin' yerself doesn't fool me."

"Sir, I-" Before I could force out any more of my carefully formulated words, one of Hector's arms released me and grabbed at the hat on top of my head. My hair fell to just passed my shoulders. When he had last seen it down two nights ago, it had been much longer, but the disguise and the need to hide it under the hat had forced me to take a knife to it. He looked at me again in disbelief as he threw the hat forcefully to the ground and returned his hand to my arm.

"Of all the foolish, empty-headed schemes, Morgan!" He continued. "What arrr you about, doing this?"

I didn't answer his question. I looked at him, right into his eyes. Seeing the anger in them suddenly made me feel new rage of my own. Rage for the past years of my life, rage for staying in a country that hated my own, at not being able to wear my rosary, at a king who had turned my husband into something he was not (a man who would leave his wife behind), and rage toward Hector who was standing in front of me and failed to see any of it.

"You're hurting me," were the only words I could think to say.

The grip on my arms loosened. I watched as he sighed and looked away from me. When he looked at me again, there was no anger left in them.

"You know that the king forbid this," his voice was softer than before.

"The king forbids a lot of things," I replied, my tone adjusting to the drop of his. "Are you to listen to them all?"

"I'll do what I must."

"For how long?" I demanded.

"As long as need be for-"

"For revenge? Can you not see it's destroying you?"

"Ye don't understand, Morgan," He began.

"Don't I?" I retorted, my voice starting to rise again. "You don't need to remind me of anything, Hector, I was there. I was there for the curse and for your death. I gave my voice to bring you back. I was there for the brethren court and the battle that followed, for the victory against the East India Company. I was there when you decided to take the Pearl from Jack Sparrow again. And I was there when Blackbeard took our ship and you lost your leg. I was fighting that wrench so you would have a chance to free yourself. Through everything you've been through, I've been at your side… and still you would leave me behind?"

He looked at me and shook his head. I took in a deep breath as he again took one of his hands off my arms. This time, he ran some of his fingers gently through what was left of my hair.

"If I had known any of that would happen, Morgan, I would never have brought ye."

I looked up at him, anger and sadness both in my eyes.

"You would have left me in Spain, wouldn't you?"

"Aye, I would have left you back at home where you belong."

"That's what you thought you were doing? Leaving me where I belong?"

"That's what I was doin'" he retorted.

"That's what the king has made you think you're doing." I argued.

"The king has nothing to do with this." Hector raised his voice slightly. "You and I are the only ones who truly know how dangerous this little venture is. You and I know what can happen to a ship when it gets close to him, Morgan. We're the only ones that survived."

"We survived once before. Blackbeard fears you, that's why he wants aqua de vida."

"Aye, the fates say he'll die by my hand. But they fail to specify what becomes of us."

"We've never known before." I said gently.

"We've never been this old before."

"What?"

I looked at him, confusion in my face. Neither of us liked to talk about our age… or how we knew the young part of our lives was long ago spent. I had no idea why he had brought it up. Hector looked down at me, gently pressing his lips to the top of my forehead.

"When I died on the Isle de Mureta, what made ya so determined to bring me back?"

"Because I love you." I answered. "And you weren't there. I was alone."

"And that's why I wanted you to stay out of this, Morgan." he said. "I'm going to die again someday… and I don't fancy being alone when that time comes."

"You think Blackbeard has a better chance of killing me?"

"Its odds I'd rather not gamble with."

"And what if something happens to you? What then? I gave Calypso her freedom in exchange for you last time. I have nothing to offer her for your life now." He gave no answer. The room was silent for what felt like hours on end. I knew then the true toll the past years had taken on him. Finally, I pulled away from him, turning away and opening the door to the room. I took a step out, not looking back as I spoke the words that were screaming in my head.

"You are a selfish man, Hector Barbossa and you have been bested by revenge."