Quick one-shot of Liz's feelings during DMC after Jack dies.

Not even the hot mug in her hands could soften the guilt from what she had done. Nothing would. She took a sip from her cup as she hoped to soothe the tears. Nothing. It did nothing but make her more upset as it reminded her that Jack would never again breathe, would never again drink an ounce of rum, would never again captain...because of her. She was his last taste of all things human and unforgettable...a deadly kiss- his undoing, his doom.

She watched Will as he continued to ignore her, focused on the stabbing and echoing of the blade into the wood of Tia Dalma's table. He was not mourning as everyone else was. Elizabeth could see it in his eyes. Since rejoining him in the long boat, she had noticed the change in behavior towards her; he was doubtful and resentful yet comforting and restrained so he did not attack her outright, controlling his anger towards her. This indifference was not caused by the abandonment of Jack Sparrow nor was it the cause of her being the last one in the boat. He had to have seen them. He had to have seen at least the kiss. What other reason had Elizabeth given him to be upset with her, to be angry at Jack?

A toast to the deceased (murdered) pirate captain brought the man's full attention to her and she kept seated with her hands wrapped tight around the wooden mug, listening to innocent words as he wished he could do something to bring Jack back to her. Will wanted to see her happy. But that was wrong. He had no idea what she had done. If only it wasn't her burden to bear. If only that kiss had no meaning. To her. To Jack. To them.