Elizabeth finally went to sleep, but her sleep was fitful, with unpleasant dreams. In the morning, Cotton came in and Gibbs went out. Cotton examined her and Jacob again, nodding cautiously at their improvement. As soon as he was finished, she went back to sleep.

Cotton brought her some lunch, and Gibbs stayed with her until supper, while she dozed on and off.

Marty brought supper. More broth. This broth had a few pieces of bread crumbled into it. Elizabeth tried to be excited about the novelty.

"Evening, Mrs Turner," the small man greeted cheerfully. "Everything all right with young Jake, here?" He picked up the baby and shook the rattle at him.

"Evening, Marty. What are you doing here? I thought you were on dog-watch tonight?"

"Oh, captain re-ordered the watch. He's taking mine tonight."

"Oh? Why's that?"

Marty shrugged. "Who knows why Captain Jack does anything?"

"Good point," Elizabeth agreed.

They shared a fond smile over how odd Jack could be, and then Marty went on. "Aye, as long's he shares the loot an' don't beat us, I do what he says."

"I see."

"He took part of Mr Gibbs' watch last night, and spelled Cotton this morning, and he's taking mine tonight."

"Good Lord, when does he sleep?"

"In between times, I guess. I brought little Jake down to the crew quarters to see him yesterday, and we showed Jake all around below decks. I wouldn't 've thought Captain would like children, but it's kind of nice to see him talkin' to little Jake, an' playin' wiv him an' all."

"I wouldn't know," Elizabeth said acidly. "I've hardly seen Captain Sparrow for days."

"Have ye not? Well, he's been awful busy covering our shifts so's Mr Gibbs, Cotton, and me can be in here watching over you since you don't want 'im doing it."

"What's that?" Elizabeth was startled.

"Oh, he told us we were the only ones 'e trusted to be in 'ere with you, and since you didn't trust 'im here, we three would 'ave to take care of you."

Didn't trust him? Elizabeth wondered. Then she remembered her fury at waking up with him in her bed and assuming the worst—perhaps she had overreacted? She must have hurt his feelings; he had been acting awfully cold toward her on those few instances when he did come in. Perhaps an apology was in order.

"Marty, would you mind seeing if he could come down here for a few minutes? I think there's been a misunderstanding."

Jack showed up less than ten minutes later. "Something you need, Mrs Turner?" he asked, expressionless.

"Why did you tell the others I don't trust you?" she asked in a conversational tone. "And stop calling me that."

"Because, Mrs Turner, you made it painfully clear the other morning that you do not. I've tried to accommodate your wishes in only keeping people around you that are trustworthy—but then again, they're only trustworthy in my eyes, and since I'm not trustworthy in yours, perhaps you feel they're a danger to you as well. If that's the case, well, you'll just have to suffer through it."

"I was startled, that's all. And I told you, Mr Gibbs explained it to me."

Jack gave her a bitter smile. "But your first automatic assumption was that I was up to no good. It was like a reflex." The smile faded and his brows drew together. "You threatened to kill me. You were reaching for your dagger even after you knew it was me. Forgive me if I take that seriously coming from you."

"Oh, Jack," she started to say, but he held up a hand to stop her.

"No, shut it. You listen to me, Mrs Turner. First time we met, I saved your life. Could have killed you. Could have killed Will. Didn't. Then Will and I rescued you from Barbossa, and you and Will went off on your merry way and left me behind with Barbossa, who was all set to kill me until I told him I knew whose blood he needed. And then later, when he marooned you and me together, did I take advantage of you at all? I did not. Not even when I was drunk.

"After that, I ferried you all over the Caribbean looking for William when you asked me to—and yeah, our goals coincided at that point, so of course that automatically made me suspect. Couldn't possibly be looking out for anyone else's interests but my own, could I? I confess, I had a weak moment when I tried to get away from the kraken and the Pearl, but I came back. You were right—I had my one moment of wanting to be a good man, and what was my reward? A Judas kiss, and then I'm chained up defenseless for the monster.

"And yeah, you came to get me from the Locker afterwards. After the monster with the thousand teeth ate me up! Ta very much, though I notice it was my ship what had to bring us back. I made a deal with Beckett so's you'd be safe, and in return you traded me for Will and gave me to Davy Jones. He's the blighter who sent me the monster with a thousand teeth in the first place, and you gave him another go at me.

"In return, I voted to make you Pirate King. I gave up my chance at immortality so's you could keep your beloved William. He couldn't go ashore, so I visited you at Flimwell, brought you things you asked for, made sure you were all right. I've respected your marriage, Mrs Turner. Not once have I ever made a move on you ortried to steal you away from your husband. I've said some things to you, yeah, but only in jest and you know it. Will is my friend. So are you. I thought you were mine, as well. Turns out you think I'm such a depraved lecher that I'd seduce a sick, married woman with her baby in the same bed. If that's what you think, then I'm sure you're right not to trust me. And death threats from you are serious matters for me, so I've kept out of your way."

Elizabeth sat there stunned on the edge of the bed—Jack's bed, which he had given up for her. She had never thought about how many times Jack had saved her life, protected her, helped her, and sacrificed what he wanted for her sake. He had proven his friendship time and time again, and she had taken him completely for granted. She had usually assumed the worst of him in any circumstance, and now she was beginning to realize that she may have damaged one of the most important friendships of her life.

She hoped it wasn't too late to fix.

She stood up on shaky legs and made her way to his chair, where he sat sideways at the desk. Dropping to her knees beside it, she said, "Jack, you're right. I am so sorry for what I said. I have every reason to trust you." She looked up at his profile—he had turned his face away from her—and her voice caught and she felt her eyes begin to sting. "You're my best friend, Jack. Is there any chance we can just write off what I said that morning as the delirious ravings of a sick woman? Is there anything I can do? What can I do to make this right between us again?"

"I don't know, Elizabeth," he said seriously, with none of his hand-flailing or dramatic gestures. "You string me along for months, making me think we're friends and all, and next thing I know you're pulling a dagger on me after I saved your life. You're a damned confusing woman, you know that?" He still didn't look at her, and his profile looked sad.

She laughed a little, but in an instant her laughing turned into crying in earnest. "Jack, I'm sorry about the dagger, and I'm sorry about what I said, and I am so, so sorry for leaving you to the kraken. I was terrified, and I kept telling myself that leaving you there was the only way—but Jack, I am so sorry for it!" She bowed her head and clung to his leg like she had once before, when he had returned to the Pearl to save them from the kraken.

"Here, now," Jack said, stroking her matted hair. Elizabeth cried harder at the gentle tone in his voice that she hadn't heard from him in days. "You went and got me, didn't you?"

"Yes, but you're right—I shouldn't have chained you up like that."

"Darling, I like to think I would have stayed anyway, but in all honesty I can't be sure. I can be sure that if I hadn't, the kraken would have killed all of you along with me. Anyway, I got free in time to meet it with me sword in hand, so I think we're all right on that one."

She wiped her face and gave him a shaky smile. "Thank you, Jack." It was nice to hear darling again, after hearing his teeth-gritted Mrs Turner for days.

He went on stroking her hair, as if he had forgotten that he was doing it. She didn't remind him. It felt very good. "Thought you weren't sorry," he said quietly.

"Not for the kiss, no!" she said. "I'm sorry for the rest of it."

Jack was startled into a laugh. "We won't tell ol' Will you said that," he promised. "Come on up here, love—you hadn't ought to be on the floor when you're ill." He lifted her up into the chair next to his.

"Can you forgive me, Jack?"

"You'll owe me a really big favor, but I expect I will eventually. Except maybe for the kiss. I take exception to that."

"What?" she cried in outrage.

He looked wounded. "Aye! You kiss me like I'm your last hope of heaven, you rescue me from hell, and next thing I know you're married to dear old William. That hurt my pride, it did. Kissing me couldn't have been so bad that you had to run right out and marry some other bloke, could it? Didn't even give me a chance to try again."

"I did!" she protested. "You turned it down.'Once was quite enough,' if I recall correctly." She imitated his waggling fingers as she spoke.

"You'd already married him by that point, dearie," he pointed out. "I did say I respected your marriage, did I not?"

"You mean you would have kissed me then, if I hadn't married Will?"

He grinned. "In a heartbeat. And darling, if I had kissed you, you wouldn't have married dear William at all."

"Oh, so I should have held out for my shipboard 'mar-i-age' with you, then? Like you would actually have gone through with it," she scoffed.

"You'll never know now, will you? You'll always wonder whether or not you were the one woman who could have tamed old Jack from his wicked, wild ways!"

"I'm sure I shall lie awake every night, wondering," she told him with a straight face.

"Well, don't let your sleeplessness over it keep me awake," he told her. "I hate sleeping with the crew. As long as you're not going to kill me again, I'm sleeping here tonight." He stood and helped her to stand, but before she went back to bed, she slid her arms around him and hugged him, resting her head on his shoulder.

She must have surprised him; his hands made a couple of feints, brief butterfly-touches to her shoulders before they finally settled on her back and he drew her close to him.

It felt good. She could feel his warm, lean body, the strength in his shoulders and back, and the security of having his arms around her. It had been so very, very long since she had been touched at all, except by her son, that she felt her throat choking up. She started to tremble, and he stroked her back a little.

"'Lizabeth?" he asked softly. "You all right, love?"

She nodded against his shoulder, but was not able to completely stifle that one sob that had been welling up in her throat. She muffled it against his shoulder, but her whole body was shaking, and her hands clenched into fists, clutching handfuls of his shirt in back.

"Hush, now," he whispered. Elizabeth felt his lips in her hair. "'S no need to cry, love. I'm here, and I'll take care of you until you can take care of yourself again."

"It's not that," Elizabeth told him, gasping as she tried to control her breathing and stop crying. "I mean, thank you, and I'm grateful. But it's just that—oh, you'll think the worse of me."

Jack laughed a little; she could feel his chest vibrate with it. "Darling, you've fed me to a monster before. I very much doubt you can shock me with anything you say."

Elizabeth laughed in turn, for a moment. "It's just that… it feels so good to be touched." Her face blazed scarlet, and she instantly released him. "Oh, my, I didn't mean for it to sound so…"

"Relax, Lizzie," Jack said. He felt around for a handkerchief, didn't find one, and picked up the end of his sash to dry her face. "I know you miss your husband. 'S nothing to be ashamed of, love."

"But I ought not to be seeking touches from other men!" Elizabeth protested. Her legs were feeling weak, and she grabbed Jack's forearms to hold herself up.

"Here, let's get you back into bed, eh?" Jack said, lowering her gently. He sat down next to her and put his arm around her. "Love, if that's the way you look at it, then you ought not to sleep in another man's bed, nor have him sleep with you to keep you warm, nor ought you be having other men look after you when you're ill, sleeping in the same room and all. However, you've been alone for a couple of years, and you're recovering from one of the worst bouts with Influenza I've ever seen anyone live through. I think your current scandalous circumstances ought to be mitigated by that. Give yourself a break. Getting a hug from a friend when you need one doesn't seem that dire, if you ask me."

"No, I suppose not," she replied as he helped her lie down and covered her up again. She smiled up at him, a small, tremulous smile.

He gave her hand a squeeze and lifted it briefly to his lips. "Good night, Lizzie." He blew out the lamp.

She heard the hammock across the room creak as he sat down in it, heard the thud, thud of his boots hitting the floor. His sword and pistol came next, and she chuckled at the quiet "Bugger!" that accompanied a jingling sound; his sword belt must have got caught up in his hair. The quiet clank of his belts as he took them off came next, followed by a deep sigh as he leaned back and relaxed in his hammock.

She barely heard Marty come back in, or his brief, quiet conversation with Jack, or the door close as he left again, leaving her alone in the room with Jack.

She drifted off to sleep, soothed by the sound of his breathing.