Elizabeth slowly returned to consciousness, her hearing returning before her eyesight did. She heard someone calling her name, and she tried in vain to open her eyes.
"Jack?" she tried to say. Nothing came out but a muffled creak.
"Elizabeth!" she heard again. The voice sounded familiar. "It's all right, don't be afraid. It's all over now."
She swallowed, licked her lips, and tried again. "Jack?" she said, finally managing to open her eyes. She could see nothing but a pale blur above her and feel nothing but a hard wooden deck beneath her. She couldn't even feel her gunshot wound at all.
"You're all right now, Elizabeth," said the blur, and she realized it was a man's face, slowly coming into focus.
"Jack?" she repeated, and then as the edges of her vision sharpened, she realized who it was. "Will!"
"Hello, Elizabeth," he said with a sad smile.
"Will!" she cried. "Where is Jack? Is he all right? Is he here?" She grabbed his arm.
Will frowned. "No, he's not here, Elizabeth."
Where am I? she wondered. As if reading her thoughts, Will told her, "You're on the Flying Dutchman."
"You mean I'm... Will, am I dead?"
He nodded slowly, his eyes full of compassion. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth.
"Wait. I'm on the ship of the dead, and Jack's not here?" Elizabeth started to smile. "He lived? He's all right?"
"So it would seem," Will said, frowning a litt.e "But Elizabeth, you're dead."
She waved away his worry. "Yes, but Jack's all right." She sighed in relief.
"You don't care that you're dead?" he asked, eyebrows climbing high.
"Just as long as that murderous Spaniard didn't shoot Jack!" She glanced around curiously. The Flying Dutchman looked different from the last time she had been there. The sails were plain white cotton now, and the spiky protrusions were gone from the gunwales.
"Ah, no," Will said. "I think Jack—or someone—must have shot him, in fact. I picked him up a few minutes ago."
"Good!" Elizabeth said with her teeth bared. "So what's happening?" She tried to peer through the smoke that wreathed the ship of the dead—or was it mist?—but she couldn't see the Pearl from this angle. In the distance she could see Teague's Enforcer already sailing toward El Gavilon, guns blazing. Further on, the last Spanish ship was giving up the fight. Barbossa stayed behind to board her.
"Think we've won, actually," came Jack's voice from the side of the ship as he hauled himself up onto the deck, "No thanks to your diving in front of me like a damned fool!"
He nodded to Will. "Hello, William. Permission to come aboard?" he asked, striding across the deck.
"Granted," came Will's ironically belated reply.
Jack strode towards Elizabeth. She called his name and ran to him, meeting him halfway. She wasn't sure whether he was planning to embrace her or give her a good shake. He settled for grabbing her shoulders in a pincer-like grip. "I could bleedin' kill you, 'Lizabeth! What the hell did you think you were doing, taking that shot for me?"
"Saving your life!"
He pulled her close and growled into her neck. "I told you not to do anything stupid, and now you've gone and orphaned your son! My life wasn't worth yours, darling. Not in a hundred years." He stepped back and held her at arms' length again, and gave her a little shake.
"I couldn't let you die!" she protested.
"Aye, but it's a bad bargain, and I'm not letting you make it."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I'm not leaving you, love. 'Whither thou goest' and all."
"What are you talking about? You can't stay here! I was hoping you would look after Jacob for me."
He shook his head. "Sorry, love. Can't."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm not leaving you, and I'm bloody well not letting you leave me either."
"Jack, I died," Elizabeth told him baldly. "Will just told me. I'm dead."
He nodded. "And I will be too, when the Dutchman submerges again. I'll just save Captain Turner the trouble of having to come pick me up."
"Jack, don't be an idiot! Go back to your life, and look after my son for me!"
He shook his head. "Not going to happen, Liz. Where you go, I go. 'S the way it is."
"Jack," Will interjected. "You're in good health. You have years ahead of you. You can't be on this ship!"
"And yet, here I am."
"You have a life waiting for you." Will tried to get him to see reason. "It's suicide if you stay."
"And yet, here I am," Jack repeated patiently.
"And who's going to raise my son?" Elizabeth demanded.
Jack shrugged. "Not my problem. You should've thought of that before you dove in front of that bullet, darling."
Will frowned. "Jack—"
"Sorry, William," Jack said with a shrug. "That's the deal. You take her, you take both of us. Package deal. Unfortunately, this leaves little Jake an orphan, all alone in the world. Completely at the mercy of vicious, bloodthirsty pirates like Sumbajee and Villeneuva. Pirates that make Barbossa look kind and gentle. You willing to just abandon your sweet little baby son to a world like that, Will?"
"Jack…"
Jack nonchalantly reached out and tucked a bit of Elizabeth's hair behind her ear. "Of course," he continued casually, "You could just heal her and send us both back. Alive. That way, your son still has a mother, my father still has a son, and you still have a way to connect with the land of the living. Might help you remember your humanity a bit better, if you could still visit with your friends and family from time to time, eh?"
He turned to Will and his voice lost its light, bantering tone. "Or do you want the only time you get to see your son to be after he's dead?"
Will winced.
Elizabeth watched them both, gaze darting from one to the other. There were undercurrents here. What was Jack trying to do? It sounded as if he was trying to bargain for her life by using her child as leverage. She opened her mouth, but Jack silenced her with a warning look and waited for Will's reply.
"Jack… I can't," Will said. "If I could, I would in a heartbeat—as it were—but I have no power over life. Only over death."
"Then you'll have to take us both," Jack told him.
"There's no need for you to sacrifice yourself, Jack," Will tried to explain. "It won't gain you anything. Don't you understand? There's nothing I can do!"
"Calypso brought back Barbossa."
"I'm not Calypso! I'm just the ferryman! Charon, if you like."
"We'll ask Calypso to do it, then."
"Are you sure?" Will pressed. "Her favors are awfully expensive!"
Jack gave him a knowing smile. "I'm not asking for her favors, Will—it seems you got those already. I'm asking for Elizabeth's life back. Shouldn't be that tough for a goddess."
"Fine, then," Will said. "I'll call her." He leaned over the edge of the ship and dropped something into the water that might have been a pebble.
While they were waiting for the goddess to manifest herself, Jack drew Elizabeth off to one side. He put his arms around her and leaned in to kiss her, but at the first touch of her lips he recoiled and grimaced.
"Sorry, love," he said. "Can't do it."
She looked puzzled for a moment, and then realized what the problem was. "Oh! Dead and clammy, right?"
He nodded, wrinkling his nose. "Dead and clammy."
"Right. Sorry. I remember from when I met with Will," she said with a sympathetic smile. "It just feels wrong and bizarre, doesn't it?"
Jack nodded, relieved that she understood. She rested her forehead on his shoulder and he idly stroked her hair while they waited for Calypso.