Horror suffused Jack's being. He threw himself at Elizabeth, heedless of the pool of blood. He picked her up, cradling her head and shoulders in his arms. He tore his bandana off his head and pressed it against the bleeding wound on her chest. It reddened and soaked through in an instant.

"What did you do, love?" he asked softly, eyes filling with tears. "I told you not to do anything stupid, and now you've gone and got yourself killed for me."

Elizabeth opened her eyes halfway, giving her face an incongruously seductive expression. "Saved you... We're even... almost."

"Almost?" Jack asked, stroking her cheek and hair with desperate fingers.

"Aye," she whispered. "Have to kiss me first."

Heedless of who was watching, heedless of the battle now raging between Angelica's flagship and the Empress, Jack let out a single sob and did as she requested. It was a kiss full of blood, salt, slime, tongues, and despair. He felt Elizabeth's hand grab convulsively at his hair. He let his tears fall unabashedly on her face.

"'Lizabeth," he moaned when she fell away from the kiss. "Lizzie, love, no!"

"Now... we... 're... even," she said with satisfaction. "Took your life... before. Give... it back... to you... now."

"Elizabeth!" Jack cried, clutching her against him. "You don't understand, darling. I don't want it without you!" He pressed his lips against her face in fervent, desperate kisses.

He felt her feather-light touch on his face before her hand fell away. There was a whisper of sound and he leaned in close to hear her say, "Love... you... my Jack." Then her last breath rattled out of her body and she went limp in his arms.

Jack squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his lips once more against her forehead, already beginning to cool against his mouth, and then rested his naked forehead against hers.

"'Your Jack'?" he repeated in a whisper. Then, louder. "'Your Jack', is it, Liz?" He sat up and smoothed her hair back, saw her lifeless eyes staring up into the Caribbean sun, and closed them for her. "I'll tell you this, my girl. This is not over. Do you hear me? If you think that 'your Jack' is going to just stand by and let this happen, you have another think coming."

He gently lay her down on the deck and unfolded his blood-soaked bandana to cover her face. He slowly rose to his feet, not taking his eyes off her still, sanguineous form before him on the deck.

Jack heard Gibbs' cautious step as he approached from behind him. Then, "Jack?" Gibbs said hesitantly.

Jack heard him, heard the mighty rush of water that was the sound of the Dutchman surfacing. He wiped his face and turned to Gibbs.

"If I don't make it back, have Teague send her aunt and the baby to my family in England," he told his old friend. "Oh, and the Isla Muerta treasure has been released by the sea. It'll be yours, along with the Black Pearl, if you don't see me alive again. Just leave the Aztec coins alone, savvy?"

"Aye, but Jack—" Gibbs stopped short, and his eyes widened in shock as Elizabeth's body disappeared from the deck.

They both stared at the empty pool of blood for a moment.

Gibbs shook his head and went on. "Where are you going?"

"With her," Jack told him. In a rare moment of affection, he gave the older man a smile and a clap on the back that was almost a hug. "Thanks, Gibbs," he said, handing him the compass.

"For what?"

"Oh, you know. All of it." Jack said with an expansive gesture. "Good luck, mate." He looked across the water at the Dutchman, and saw Elizabeth's grayish form beginning to materialize on its deck.

"I gotta go," Jack said. He sprinted across the deck and dove over the gunwale, striking out for the Dutchman.

On the Pearl, Gibbs watched Jack swim over with his usual economy of movement when he was in the water. He shook his head. "Trust Jack Sparrow to finally fall in love just as the lady lies dying," he muttered to himself. He raised his voice and called, "Good luck, Jack!"

Note: A quick lesson about Jack's phrase "If you think that 'your Jack' is going to just stand by and let this happen, you have another think coming." I see people making an error with this expression all the time by saying "...another thing coming."

If you think something and it's wrong, then you have another think coming. Not another thing coming. It's a logical progression of thought-first you think one thing, then you think a different one. You can't thing a thought, so make sure none of my devoted readers ever make that mistake again. :)

Oh, and about the plot: well, things may get worse before they get better. Sorry. But don't stop reading!