AN: I know many readers think I love torture, but I don't. If you can hang on to the end of this one, you will be rewarded. Thank you again for reading and if you care to, I'd love to know what you think. Please enjoy!

Looking at the overhead clock, Will sighed again and fidgeted in the chair for what felt like the fiftieth time that day. Nothing about today felt right: not his still-short hair, nor the unrelenting humidity of the air outside the stale tan walls, and definitely not the itchy, name-brand suit Bria had thrown at him in the garment bag when she met him at the courthouse. Nothing about this day was going right, but Will knew he had to suck it all up and endure it.

His daughter was counting on him, even if she didn't know it yet.

"Tell me again why we had to get here so early," Will whispered to Bria as she sat next to him in the conference room, even though they were the only two in it at the moment. The first session with the mediator wasn't due to start for fifteen minutes and they had already been sitting there for twenty.

"Because," she explained, focusing more on what she was typing into her laptop than on him, "we are on the battlefield. In the annals of history, how many armies won when they arrived last? How many didn't get immediately slaughtered by a surprise attack? Any meeting, any court sessions, any time the mediator or judge wants even their shoes shined, we are the first ones here, always before the vindictive bitch and her lawyer."

"Rebecca."

"It's better if you don't think of her as a person from here on in. She's simply chum; meaty, bloody chum that I'm going to swallow whole."

"That's a healthy attitude."

"Trust me, you'll sleep better at night."

Will snorted. "That's how you do your job? People aren't people anymore?"

"No, I drink myself into unconsciousness after whoring the night away with whomever I can find to distract me from the tears and broken hearts I caused during the day." He eyed her sideways, seeing her in a new light while she kept typing. She shrugged off his sympathy. "What can I say? Like you, I have my education, my own skills. This is just how I use them."

Never one to pry but needing a distraction from the encounter that was approaching as each minute passed, he asked, "And it makes you happy?"

"It did, actually, until Lizzie went and encountered your bait and tackle there," she said, pulling her gaze away to stare pointedly at his crotch for a quick beat before returning to the screen. "Now she's here, leaving me without her goodness to balance out all the dark I carry with me, so I've found myself at a bit of a crossroads these past months. I've come to think it's not good for what's left of my soul if I keep doing this job much longer and yet, I find myself facing that existential question that plagues us all when a career needs to change."

"Who am I going to be if I'm no longer defined by this one thing anymore?" Will guessed.

Now it was her turn to eye him sideways, although there was a bit of disgust in her look. "No, you numpty. How am I going to buy things?"

"Ah, there you are. I worried for a moment you had been replaced by a pod person."

"Hey, I have very specific and expensive tastes. Do you know many schoolmarms or shop owners that blow a year's rent during one trip to Yves Saint Laurent?"

"I thought Elizabeth said your family was rich, though."

"Yes, they are, but most of them can't stand me, except for my grandmother, and frankly I haven't the faintest idea why those pill-popping, imbecilic, fat arses think I'm beneath them."

"It's a mystery."

"Although, perhaps this case will be reinvigorating for me. Helping someone keep their kid who actually deserves them might just kick me back into gear."

"That is probably the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"By 'deserves' I mean in the sense it's between you and someone who had to be physically stopped from injecting heroin into their bloodstream while nearly eight months pregnant, according to what Jack told me."

"Yeah," Will said with a grimace, remembering that night perfectly and too many others like it. Worrying his thumbnail, he finally asked, "How official are these sessions going to be? Like, will there be records kept, transcripts and all? Because I don't think-"

"She's going to find out someday, Will." Bria closed her laptop and turned in her seat towards him. She waited until nodded slowly in acceptance. "Lucy is going to know someday that her life meant less to her mum than getting high. You can't prevent it, only delay it a good long while until she'll be old enough to understand that it had nothing to do with her."

At this, he exhaled a long breath. "Doesn't mean she won't think it was somehow all her fault. That you can trust me on."

"Aye."

The silence seeped back in between them. In it, Will remembered acutely what it had been like growing up as the child of an addict. It had never been something he had wanted to share with his own children but upon Rebecca's reentry into Lucy's life, it was something he was going to have to face. Of all the things Lucy was, curious was at the forefront. His explanation of Rebecca simply being ill wasn't going to hold water much longer, especially once they met, which was the other major worry that had been plaguing him since Bria had told him what those blasted papers were at the baby shower. Try as he might, he had never been able to visualize what the moment would be when he presented his daughter to Rebecca for the first time in six years.

Would Lucy hug her? Throw a fit? Barrage Rebecca and he both with questions they couldn't answer with her so young? Or would she be her typical self and surprise him entirely?

Probably the latter, he thought wistfully. How worried were you when you brought Elizabeth to live here? It was seamless how well she fit in. Like Lucy was just waiting for her to show up all these years.

Unable to sit, Will began walking a slow lap around the table. Sticking his hand in his pocket, the engagement ring rolled between his fingers, reminding him sharply how badly he was failing on so many fronts. Every moment spent pondering his past with Rebecca was another he took from his future with Elizabeth, but if he didn't – if there was some random memory of her past misdeeds that he could recall that would prove how unworthy she was of being near Lucy – he'd carry the chain of regret around his neck for the rest of his life. Even as he sensed her pain, that even this morning when he kissed her goodbye there was something she was keeping from him, he couldn't afford to explore it.

For now, horrible as it felt through every inch of his being, Elizabeth had to become second to Rebecca.

Which also meant putting one of his children over the other.

Wonderful beginning to a better father/son relationship than you had. He's not even in your arms and you're still finding a way to make him feel like he's second-best.

Shaking his head to dislodge the dreadful idea, he vowed that he'd make it up to his still-nameless son. Taking that to heart, he began running through names once more to see if anything left an impression:

Gideon felt a bit formal; Patrick would no doubt lead to Jack christening him Paddy, simply to annoy Will; Thomas or any name beginning in "T" was too much alliteration; Joshua had possibilities but he didn't want his other mates to think he was honoring Gibbs at their expense, considering how much they had all done for him collectively since he was a boy. He needed something neutral yet something that was still worthy of a firstborn son, something that would help make him strong and proud of a legacy he'd create for himself.

A name suddenly popped into his mind and his eyebrows quirked up in pleasant surprise. "What do you think of the name Alexander?" Will asked Bria.

"For the bairn?" Her own head tilted in deliberation. "It's actually quite nice."

"Really?" Excitement took hold at the idea of his son having this first piece of his identity secured. "You think so?"

"Absolutely. It's traditional with a lot of options for nicknames. Goes well with your surname, plus I know for a fact that Lizzie has a fondness for that particular name."

"She does? She mentioned it as one she'd like?"

"No, but it'll bring back such nice memories for her considering it's the name of the first boy she ever shagged." She smiled with great joy as his shoulders slumped. "Back to the drawing board then. Don't you have any in reserve from before Lucy was born?"

"No."

"And why not?"

"Because he always knew she'd be a girl."

Will stopped in his tracks, his back to the door neither he nor Bria had noticed opening during their conversation. The voice was still so familiar even after six years, her lilting accent from growing up in Melbourne coloring her words while sending a familiar – though still unwelcome – shiver of rage creeping up his spine. Thumbing the engagement ring one last time, he put it (and God help him, Elizabeth) to the side as he slowly turned to face the mother of his first child.

For some reason, he had expected Rebecca to be the same hollowed young woman he remembered from his teenage years. Yet standing before him was someone else entirely: ocean-blue eyes focused, not sunken in with dark circles under them; skin that actually looked healthy, though slightly paler now; her posture was straighter, the loose cotton blouse and long skirt actually fitting her lithe frame, and her face was no longer the emaciated mask of anger and sadness it had been during the few times he had seen her holding Lucy. Still, it was the hair that captivated all his focus. Now that it was pulled into a long braid that hung on her shoulder down past her waist, it looked much closer to his daughter's than the tangled, unwashed mass it once was.

Contrary to his lawyer's advice, Rebecca was a person. A person that Lucy had a bond with, even if they were strangers now.

For all her warnings, Will suddenly understood exactly how hard Bria said this whole process would be.

"Hello," Rebecca said to him quietly after he didn't speak.

Seeing as there was no way to avoid this now, Will replied in kind. "Hi."

"You changed your hair," she finally said when neither could find anything to say in the sea of unspoken words between them.

"So did you."

She nodded, playing with the end of the braid. "Changed much more than that, Will. I promise."

Before he could answer, Bria rose and strode to her, extending a hand. "Ms. Wilson, I'm Bria McKendrick. I'm Mr. Turner's counsel."

"Please call me Rebecca," she said as the shook hands.

"No, I don't think I will, and you can please refer to me as Ms. McKendrick. Now, is your counsel here or will this meeting be delayed by her tardiness?"

"Uh, no she's just in the restroom." She glanced at him quickly. "I was actually hoping to speak with Will privately for a moment."

"I'm afraid that's not possible."

Rebecca ignored her in favor of asking him directly, "Please, Will? Trust me, I'm not trying to trap you or anything. I just want to talk."

He didn't need to see Bria's subtle head shake to know what his answer was. Fists clenching inside his pocket, he told her, "Trust isn't something I'm capable of with you anymore. Anything you say to me is said in front of her."

"Very wise advice." Another voice joined their room, this one unfamiliar to him as she stepped to Rebecca's side with ease. The petite woman of Spanish descent was one he recognized only from photos, as Angelica Teach's relationship with Jack had ended long before Will appeared in Arbor Bay. Still, from the confident poise she carried herself with and the gleam of danger in her dark eyes, it didn't surprise him in the least that this was someone Jack had become enamored with. "Advice I tried to drill into my own client, with less success."

"Well, we all have our deficiencies, don't we?" Bria said condescendingly.

"Some more than others," Angelica replied without hesitation, sparring verbally with ease. "Shall we sit? I ran into the mediator, he is just taking a phone call and then we can start."

The foursome shuffled awkwardly around the table, all trying to avoid eye contact with their opposition. The lawyers prepared by arranging their legal pads and pens while their clients sat restlessly beside them. The tension settled back over them like a blanketing fog, thickening to the point where Will thought he might suffocate. Unable to stop himself, he blurted out, "Why are you doing this? Why did you come back?"

"Will, don't-" Bria tried to stop him, but he plowed on.

"No, I need to know why this is happening to my life right now. I think I'm entitled to know why…" He trailed off when Rebecca closed her eyes and chuckled slightly. Feeling his ire spike to the heavens, he asked, "Did I say something amusing in this whole godforsaken travesty you've started?"

"No, not at all." Her laughter ended with a small sigh and she looked on him with something that resembled pity. "I'm just simply amazed how little you've changed after so long. Everything still boils down to how it affects you. Nothing else matters unless you're getting what you want. Lord help anyone who stands in the way of that."

Her analysis stunned him. She actually had the gall to call him selfish? "So, let me get this straight: having you move in with me, working sometimes three jobs at a time to support you so you wouldn't feel stressed about money, doing everything I could think of to help you get sober, that was all for me? Are you fucking serious?"

"You didn't do that because you gave a damn about me, you did it to protect the vessel carrying your baby." Her mouth became a hard line. "Because that's all I was to you at that point and you never let me forget it."

"Jesus Christ, you're demented."

"Oh, am I?"

"I tired to reach you, damn it!" He took a deep breath through his nose to steady himself. "I tried to talk with you so many times, to get you to connect to me and our child but you wouldn't budge an inch. You pushed me away at every turn, even if all I wanted was to feel the baby kicking. Not to mention, if memory serves, you were the one that walked away in disgust when I kneeled in front of you with a ring."

"Because when a girl is proposed to, she'd actually like it if the man was doing it out of love."

"I…" Will started to answer before Elizabeth's face flashed behind his eyes, her smile warm and sleepy as she woke. What he had once felt for Rebecca was a drop on a shadow compared to what he had now with Elizabeth.

It wasn't fair to either woman to pretend otherwise.

When he stopped, Rebecca nodded smugly. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Face it, Will, you always meant more to me then I did to you. You…" Will watched her swallow deeply, bitterness giving way to melancholy, "You were the first person I ever loved, the first one I was ever able to, even if I admittedly did a shit job of showing it. To me, we had something real but for you, I was only the girl you had the most fun screwing and getting high with." She tried to brush it off with indifference, but Will saw her pain, much more clearly now that she wasn't hiding behind a snarl and drugs. "I knew it, always did. I guess I just thought it was better than anything else I could have, even with all the fighting and drama we created together. You're only here now with me because that stupid condom broke our last time before you went on the fishing trip."

He felt the sting of guilt from her description, recognizing the truth of it, one-sided as it was. Later, it would fester in his stomach, but now there were other truths to deal with. "No, we're here now because after six years you decided that Lucy needed her world thrown into chaos."

"Wrong again. I'm here because she needs her mother."

Something about hearing her say the words grated at the back of Will's skull. It was just so…wrong. There was no other way to describe it.

That title didn't belong to her, not after what she had done.

The door opened again, halting what would have surely been a nasty retort on his part and Will turned to find a middle-aged man with no jacket carrying a heavy folder, his shirt sleeves rolled up and bow tie slightly askew, smiling pleasantly at the motely crew assembled. "Good day to you all. I'm Jacob Teague. I've been assigned by the Honorable Judge Tiana Dalma to lead these mediation sessions." Quick introductions were made by all and he sat at the head of the table, putting on a pair of tiny glasses that perched on the bridge of his nose as he opened the folder and began skimming. "Now, to start off, I keep these sessions rather informal: no stenographer, no tape recordings, the parties stay on a first name basis, and the lawyers interject as little as possible. I like to make this as casual as possible and I ask in return that you conduct yourselves with decorum. Understood?" He waited for everyone to nod before continuing. "Excellent. Are there any questions before we begin?"

"None, sir," Angelica replied as Bria opened her mouth. "I only thank you for taking the time to put us at ease. Not many mediators are that considerate."

"Well, thank you, Ms. Teach. I hope neither of the lawyers are offended if we stay a bit formal with you two, just so we can stay professional."

"Not at all, Mr. Teague," Bria chimed in, smiling brightly at him. "Boundaries are paramount in these matters, after all. It's wonderful to see you realize it."

"I agree, Ms. McKendrick, and if you are both done trying to curry my favor we can get started." He read for a few beats more before turning to Will. "How are you today, young man?"

"Fine, sir."

"Jacob."

"I'm fine, Jacob."

"Really? You're not angry or frustrated or ready to tear the room apart? Because I think I would be in your shoes."

"I suppose I am, but it wouldn't do my daughter any good if I gave into that so I'm trying to be calm. With great effort," he admitted.

Jacob nodded promptly. "And you, Rebecca? How are you feeling?"

"Nervous. Anxious. Maybe a little…scared, I guess."

"Normal then. Perfectly normal in this situation. I want to make one last thing very clear to the both of you: whatever your past is, it has no place here. According to all documentation I have, there was no abuse in your relationship, just a fair amount of dysfunction. Am I correct?" They each nodded. "This room is not a place for you to extract revenge or assuage any hurt feelings left over from your time together. What we are going to try to do is work together to give Lucy the best possible chance at having a strong relationship with both of you that betters her life. Because she's the only one that matters in here. Can you both agree to that?" Again, they nodded. "Excellent. Now, I'd like each of you, in your own words, to tell me how we got here now."

The next several hours were spent rehashing the tumultuous pairing of Will Turner and Rebecca Wilson, an epic of comic or tragic proportions depending on the audience. For the most part, they let each other speak freely of their few highs and many lows, but occasionally opinions varied greatly on certain memories. Comments were made, voices raised, and when things seemed ready to boil over, Jacob stepped in to redirect them. Bria and Angelica busied themselves by each taking conspicuously detailed notes until, at last, they were at the aforementioned here and now.

Jacob finished writing his own notes, reading them over carefully. He glanced over at Rebecca, studying her before asking the question she had refused to answer for Will. "Why did you decide to come back after six years?"

"It's hard to explain," she said after a long moment. "I mean, hard for anyone to understand if they're not an addict, like I am. I spent the four years after I left…" Rebecca shook her head slightly as if to clear it. "I should say, after I abandoned my daughter. Because that's what I actually did."

"Yes," Will said quietly, staring her down, unable to let it go when he remembered what his infant daughter's shrill cries had sounded like the night he found her. Lucy had been so starving she nearly choked on the bottle Will gave her. "All alone where anything could have happened to her."

"I know." Rebecca's answer was equally as quiet. She only took his condemning gaze a few seconds until she glanced down at her hands again. "If it makes you feel better, you'll never hate me more than I hate myself."

"Try me." Bria laid her hand on his wrist to halt any more outbursts, squeezing it gently but firmly. He got the message and let Rebecca keep speaking.

"I did nothing for those four years except wander through the Caribbean, killing myself a little every day. I did…things to myself with drugs, for drugs that I wish I could forget. Finally, I reached my breaking point and I was lucky enough to get a spot at a treatment facility in America, far away from any temptation. I've been sober since then: seventeen months, three days, and fourteen hours."

"Quite accurate with that time," Jacob commented.

"I have to be. Time is an important part of recovery. Reminding yourself every day how far you've come can be the difference in stopping you from blowing it all after a bad date or a shitty day at work. But sometimes it's the killer itself because it rears its head when you least expect it." Swiping a lone tear away, she dug through her bag until she pulled out a rolled-up magazine to lay on the table. Instantly, Will knew what it was. "A friend I met in treatment works for the publishing company and sent it to me."

"The interview I gave to Sailing World," he said dully, cursing Hank, true, but cursing himself more for agreeing to it. "With the picture of Lucy that made you remember you had a daughter in the first place."

"I always thought of her, Will. Not a day or night went by when I didn't miss her. When I was using, I knew I was no good to her and I needed to be solid in my recovery before I came back. It just…I never realized how much time had gone by, with her I mean. I somehow still imagined her as a baby, not as a little girl growing every day, needing her mother more and more."

Will bristled again at that word coming from her mouth. Did she think Lucy was deprived in some way that only she could cure? It was utter bull. Lucy was adored and reaped the benefits of that love every day. He felt himself about to let loose an epic rebuke when Bria spoke up first.

"If I may, Rebecca, in regard to your recovery, my client and I have a few questions, if you don't mind," she said Jacob, smiling benevolently. At his nod, she asked Rebecca, "You said you received treatment in America, at a facility called Hope's Promise, if my research is correct, yes?"

"Uh-huh."

"The research also showed it's quite an expensive program and that it's private, meaning they don't take indigent cases likes yours would have been. The records show you paid cash so I'm very curious to find out how you afforded it."

"Are you accusing my client of a crime?"

"I'm asking your client how she came by such a sum of money that saved her life; the life she wants to bring a child into now, because if that sum needs to be repaid in some way…" Bria and Jacob shared a deep look before he nodded slowly.

"Rebecca, how did you pay for your treatment?"

Her brows furrowed slightly in confusion when she addressed Will. "He didn't tell you?"

Now Will's curiosity was piqued. "Who? What are you talking about?"

Glancing at Angelica for permission, she leaned back in her chair, bracing for a reaction. "Bootstrap was the one who helped me."

Beside him, he saw Bria's lips purse in acknowledgment, but she gave no other indication of surprise, unlike Will who felt his mouth drop open in shock. "E-Excuse me?"

"Bootstrap is William Turner the First, Will's estranged father," Angelica clarified for the mediator. "They have a very poor relationship, although he's close with Mr. Sparrow. Like my client, he suffers from addiction, only with alcohol. When he himself became sober over two years ago, he sought out Rebecca and made arrangements for her in America. He also paid for everything himself, not asking for anything in return. We'll allow the treatment facility to release those payment records for the court as proof. They've had minimal contact since then."

"Just a letter here or there at the holidays or my birthday from him," Rebecca chimed in. "He lives on his boat so he's hard to keep track of."

"Did you use him to get information regarding Lucy?" Bria asked, making more notes.

"No. Whenever I asked, he said I needed to keep my focus on my own health and that she was fine with Will." There were more questions and answers, back and forth between the other four, but Will was too busy seething to pay attention.

Bootstrap…Good ole Bootstrap Bill Turner, making an absolute horror show of someone else's life, he thought, scenario after scenario running through his mind. Was he trying to get us back together because he thought I was pining for her still? No, no, more likely the bastard was shagging her behind my back when he'd stop at home before his blessed "sobriety" took hold. He's just using her to stab me in the back for treating him like dog piss these years. How like him to take from me when it suits him.

"Will?" He started at his name to find Jacob addressing him. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," he lied, clearing his throat a bit. "I'm fine. Didn't expect that, is all."

There'd be time later to use this pent-up wrath and redirect it where it belonged; at the miserable twat who so delighted in creeping his way through Will's happiness, be it in the forms of his friends, Lucy, or even Elizabeth. Now he had other things to do, more important things.

"Good. Tell me, then, what has it been like for you these past years raising Lucy on your own?"

"I guess I'd have to start by saying I never really considered myself on my own. I've had a sort of makeshift family ever since I came here from England. We all worked hard to learn how to take care of her and I think we've done a great job: Lucy's very happy, all her teachers say what a wonderful student she is when she's in school, and she's kind." Gauging her from across the table, Will pulled out his phone and thumbed through it until he found a picture of Lucy smiling next to one of her sandcastle creations. Gingerly, he handed it to a stunned Rebecca. "She draws. All the time, ever since she could wrap her fingers around a crayon."

"Really?" There was something so hopeful about how she looked at Lucy's face that Will almost forgot what they were doing here.

Almost.

"Yeah, really. I got her an easel for her birthday."

"That's good," Rebecca beamed tearily at the screen. "That's so good. What does she like to draw the most? Landscapes, people, abstracts?"

"Um, everything I guess. It's hard to keep track of it all. I think everyone we know has at least four of her pictures on their fridges."

"Thank you." With great care, she passed the phone back, their fingers touching oh so briefly. "She's so beautiful."

"Well, as you bring up this makeshift family of yours," Angelica began, breaking up the small moment of unity with her lethal gaze fixed on him, as he braced himself for Jack to be brought up and dragged through the mud, "can you please tell us where," she paused to unnecessarily read through her notes, "Elizabeth Swann factors into it?"

"I don't understand."

"She's your girlfriend, yes?"

Why were these titles so difficult for him to hear today? "Yes, but she's not…We're committed to each other, I mean. Living together and having a baby in a few months."

"And you knew each other for how long before both of these things transpired?"

Will cursed himself, seeing how easily she had laid the trap for him. "Not very," he admitted. Silently asking Bria if he should continue and get it over with, she nodded promptly. "We had a one-night stand when she was visiting from London and she got pregnant. We decided we wanted to raise the baby together so she came to stay here, with me and Lucy, until she could find her own place. Thankfully, we realized how much we loved each other before too long and we've been happy ever since."

Again, Rebecca went back to studying her hands while he lawyer pounced. "You don't think that's a bit confusing for a young child? To have a stranger move in suddenly? To see her father in a relationship? To sharing her father with a new child?"

"If it was anyone else besides Elizabeth, maybe, but they…" He shrugged helplessly, unable to describe the bond Lucy and Elizabeth shared. "I can't explain it. They're just…They're them. They're supposed to be in each other's lives."

Whatever joy Rebecca had felt in hearing about Lucy's artistic skill vanished by the time Will finished talking. Eyes hardening to stone, she turned to Jacob. "When will I be allowed to see Lucy?"

At once, he realized his misstep and he tried to apologize. "Look, I didn't mean to imply-"

"And I didn't come here to listen to how well our daughter gets on with the latest woman you impregnated," she shot back at him. "I came because my only goal in life besides staying sober is being with her. I'd like to get started on that, if it's all right with you."

"What does Lucy know about Rebecca?" Jacob asked Will, shifting them from the suddenly dangerous topic of Elizabeth. "How have you explained her absence?"

"The few times it's come up, I told her that her mum left because she was sick and had to get better," he said cautiously. "Beyond that, she never asked much, at least to me."

"Then I think you should tell her what's going on as soon as possible and then we should give Lucy a little time to get used to the news before we arrange a meeting. It'll be quite an adjustment for her, Rebecca."

"Friday is her birthday. My client was hoping that she'd be able to see her for it, attend the party and celebrate it with her," Angelica suggested.

He thought of Elizabeth and Lucy making all the invitations together hunched over the table; all of the hours spent together making grand plans for Lucy's first huge party with her friends and then of all the work Elizabeth had put into it on her own once Lucy was in bed. "No, absolutely not," Will said instantly, knowing how unreasonable he sounded but not caring.

He wouldn't let Rebecca taint this for either of the two people who mattered most.

Three pairs of eyes blinked at him, one enraged and two slightly bewildered. "Will, I understand you might be reluctant to-" Jacob tried to appease before Rebecca shot forward in her seat, nostrils flared.

"I spent nearly twelve hours in labor with that child and six years to the day later you have the stones to tell me I can't see her? What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"I didn't say you couldn't see her, just not then. Not that day."

"Why not? Because it would make your precious little slut Lizzie upset?"

"Rebecca, that's not helpful," Jacob admonished sharply while Will fumed, wishing (even as it disgusted him) that a needle had finished the job before Bootstrap found her. "Remember, we're here for Lucy. The focus is her, not on whatever you might be feeling for Will or others."

"I-I-I'm trying," she said, sucking in a shaking breath, listening to whatever Angelica whispered in her ear as she slowly calmed. "I want it to be on her because she should have a chance to know her mother, especially on the anniversary of the day we share the most with. I'd like a good reason for him denying me that besides it making another woman upset."

"Simple, really," Bria said, holding up a hand to stop Will from speaking first. "It's because you're a stranger."

"I am her-"

"Legally and biologically, perhaps, but to Lucy you're nothing more than a stranger. Whatever memories are shared between you aren't hers because in your own words, you abandoned her," Bria continued unapologetically. Rebecca's eyes closed before she fell back into the chair again, her chin trembling, but Bria rolled on. "The adjustments that Jacob alluded to are real and she deserves the opportunity to make them in a peaceful environment, not during a birthday party crowded with people, many of whom love her to bits but can't stand the sight of you."

"I think you've made your point, Ms. McKendrick."

"Good, so long as it's understood by her that since she made the decision to leave her daughter without a mother, she doesn't get a unilateral say on when she gets to be introduced as one again."

Jacob let the room settle with a moment of quiet before addressing Will. "What about the Sunday after the party? Would you be willing to let Lucy meet her then?"

There were at least ten thousand penalties on the list of things he'd rather endure than bring Rebecca into Lucy's life, but he wasn't being giving the choice of offering himself up to protect his daughter this time. "In the afternoon," he grudgingly agreed. "Elizabeth and I have an appointment with our midwife that morning."

"Rebecca? Is that agreeable to you?"

"Sure, on one condition: it's just the three of us together, somewhere neutral, not at the house."

In other words, Elizabeth wasn't welcome. Rebecca would be surprised by how fine Will was with that condition. Keeping them far apart would be a blessing. "Of course."

Angelica smiled triumphantly. "Excellent. After they meet, my client wishes to establish a schedule of visitation with all due haste. The sooner Lucy is comfortable with her, the sooner Lucy can stay with her at her home in Seattle."

"Perhaps my opposing counsel isn't aware, seeing as how few international custody cases she's handled compared to myself, but long-term visits in different countries don't happen within a few weeks of introductions," Bria piped in helpfully. "At least not in any case that I handle."

"We can begin preliminary discussions on shared custody and what that entails at our next session," Jacob told them. "Now, there isn't a set limit but from experience, Judge Dalma would like us to attempt a minimum of four mediation sessions before this moves into the courtroom in two weeks. As difficult as these can be, I assure you they're preferable to an outcome where one of you may be truly devastated. Does anyone have anything else before we part for the day?"

"Yes." Rebecca stood and carefully righted her heavy purse, keeping her eyes locked with Will's. "I know I'm the bad guy. I'm the enemy at your gate, invading this cookie-cutter fantasy family you're trying to build, but I'm also Lucy's mother. I want to be with her, help raise her into a better person than I am, alongside you. I'm not going anywhere, Will. That, you can trust me on."

He nodded, her unheard threat of not being bought away ringing loud and clear. "Then let me tell you something about parenthood, seeing as how I have a roughly six-year head start on you: very rarely is it ever about what you want."

"Come along, Rebecca. Ms. McKendrick and I will schedule a time that works for all three of you." Angelica began leading her out of the room, pausing at the door. "And Will? Give my very best to Jack," she said, her tongue rolling seductively across his name. With that, and one last loaded look between himself and Rebecca, the women left, Jacob following after gathering the novel of notes he had written up.

"Was it a complete train wreck?" Will asked Bria when they were finally alone, slumping against the table tiredly.

"We drew even," she said after a moment. "She abandoned Lucy; you made highly questionable personal choices. Neither of you came away unscathed."

He couldn't help but snicker slightly. "You're calling your best friend a highly questionable choice?"

"I'm saying that's how our mediator will probably write it up as in his report when we're done with these useless sessions. I imagine the judge will put a lot of weight into that report, though, so we just need to keep the focus on presenting you as a doting father who puts his daughter above everything."

Not everything, he thought with a sigh, pulling out his phone to check messages. Not over her brother. Hopefully, he'll never have to know…

"Shit," he mumbled out loud as he read a long text from Anamaria. "Tell me she's not doing this."

"What is it?"

He suppressed another curse as he hit the contact number he needed. "Elizabeth left work early, said she didn't feel well. She left Lucy with Anamaria to rest at home, but one of Anamaria's second cousins spotted her at the Strathwood earlier."

"She's going to Weatherby for help," Bria concluded with a groan. "Trying to have Daddy make this all go away with his government influence and/or money. Rash, my darling Lizzie, far too rash."

"He wouldn't, though, would he? I mean, helping me doesn't seem to be a priority for him."

"It's not and he's a politician. He never gives something without making sure he gets more in return."

The only answer from Elizabeth was her voicemail. "Luv, it's me," he told her when he and Bria started to leave the conference room. "Call me right when you get this, please. I know what you're doing, but this isn't a good idea. We'll talk it over with Bria at dinner, okay? Just call me."

They waited on the sidewalk for the cab Bria sent for when she asked, "You really didn't know? About your father helping her?"

"He's not my father," Will snapped reflexively, "and no, I didn't. No one here did or they would've told me. I can't believe he would screw me over like this, with Rebecca of all people."

"How did he get the money though? I wasn't posturing, that facility she went to is like the Mercedes of drug rehabs. How could a middle-age man in sandals who lives on a boat afford that?"

"He was probably working as a mule, pushing the shit he was trying to get her off of."

"Well, someone thinks highly of him, don't you?"

"I try not to think of him, is the whole point." They climbed into the back of the car together. "Just forget about him, focus on getting me prepped for telling my daughter something that's going to change her life forever," he sighed, taking his phone out again to see if Elizabeth had called back.

Except no call ever came; not on the quiet trip home from Kingston or when they collected Lucy from Anamaria or when the three of them were preparing dinner together, Will wondering the whole time if she was straining over whatever her father was making her endure. All his texts and his second, more forceful voicemail were ignored, only adding to the frustrations that had piled up during the hellish day. Thankfully, Lucy was even more chatty than usual, too excited about her upcoming birthday and extra time spent with Bria to notice how often her father was checking his phone for messages, stalling the inevitable as long as he could.

Nothing about today had gone how he wanted it to. Facing Rebecca may have been a trial, but telling Lucy about her? Will didn't know if he could do it on his own.

He needed all his strength for such a talk and for strength, he needed Elizabeth.

Eventually, his time ran out. When he was cutting up her steak, Lucy finally dared to ask what he had been dreading. "Daddy? What were you and Bria doing all day?"

With a long glance at Bria, her wine glass half empty and offering him an encouraging half-smile, Will looked back to his daughter and smoothed her hair back a little. "So, um, I had to take a meeting that I needed Bria's help with."

"About what?"

"About…" The words died in his throat as Lucy looked at him with her wide, innocent eyes.

She still believed in Santa. She left thank-you notes for the Tooth Fairy. Hell, when it was a full moon, she'd blow it a kiss and tell it how pretty it was.

Almost every part of her was still pure and he knew with certainty it would all start to fade away when he finally opened this door for Rebecca.

He had never felt more of a failure at the one thing he promised himself he'd succeed.

Watching Will open and close his mouth several times, Bria took pity on him. "Say, Lucy, do you remember when we went on that awful, terrible, totally boring vacation together?"

"Uh-huh," she replied with a giggle.

"And how when we were in the hotel room at night, I'd have to go on my computer for work that I said was very silly but was very important?"

"Uh-huh." She turned back to Will, digging her fork through her baked potato. "Bria's a lawyer, Daddy. That means she says really big words to people and gets paid money for it."

"I know, that's why she's helping me now. Don't play with your food, sweetheart."

"Sorry." Swallowing, she looked between the adults before going back to her dinner. "What kind of meeting did you need a lawyer for?"

Sneaking one last look at his phone, he slipped it in his pocket, steeling himself for this moment as best he could. "Lucy, about a week ago I got a letter from someone. It…It was from your mummy." There was no response from her other than more chewing. Bria shrugged at the nonreaction and prompted him to elaborate with another nod. "She's come back to see you."

Lucy's brow creased in uncertainty. "My mummy came back? I thought she was…From where? Where'd she come back from?"

"From away. From trying to get well again, remember?"

"My…My mummy who was sick," she said slowly, her brow still furrowed. "Not my…Not…"

"Lucy?" Will watched his daughter as she stared at her plate intently, her young mind trying to solve a puzzle only she could see. Bria seemed concerned by her response as well and that sent Will's blood pressure sky high. "Lucy, what's-?"

"My mummy," she repeated, finally looking back at Will as comprehension finally dawned behind her eyes. "My mummy that left after she had me."

"Because she was sick," Will corrected gently, relieved she was starting to understand. "Not because of you, because she was very sick and needed to see doctors far away to get better."

"And she is? All better?"

"She seems to be, yes. That's the meeting I was at today with Bria. We were…You see we were trying to…"

"Lucy, you know what a rule is, don't you?" Bria jumped in to explain to the child. "It's something that you have to follow made by someone who's in charge of you, like your dad or a teacher at school." Lucy nodded in agreement. "Okay, for grown-ups rules are what we call laws. If adults break them, a judge will punish them and as a lawyer, it's my job to help people understand laws because they can get very confusing sometimes."

"Guidelines."

"I'm sorry?"

"Laws are more like guidelines than actual rules. As long as you're not hurting anyone else, people should follow the path that pleases them. That's what Captain Jack says," Lucy parroted amiably.

"Anyway, I'm not just any kind of lawyer," Bria continued, rolling her eyes at Jack's philosophical musings. "I practice a very special kind of law called family law. It means that when mums and dads don't live together, I work with them and a judge to decide how often their children get to see them. That's what we're going to work out with your mum and her own lawyer. It just might take a bit of time to get all the details sorted out."

"How come?" Lucy's fork started pushing her food around on the plate again. Will stilled her hand until she focused on him again.

"Because your mummy doesn't live here on the island. She lives in America." Squeezing her small hand softly, he fought to keep his voice from shaking as he continued, "She wants you to stay there with her, too. Not all the time but split in half with me for part of the year."

"I…I…I have to go to America without you?" Lucy frowned. It deepened into fear when Will nodded gravely. "But that's…I don't want to."

"Which is why your dad and I are working together. We're trying to convince the judge that its better if you stay living here while your mum gets to visit you lots. This way, you can still know her and have her be a part of your life without having to go so far away from everyone here."

Instead of reassuring her, Bria's words made Lucy's lips start to quiver, her whole face suddenly horrorstruck. Will's heart shattered to dust when her eyes started watering and she brokenly whispered, "I-Is Elizabeth leaving now b-because…"

"No!" he cooed, pulling her into his lap to rock her and kiss her head, glancing at Bria in shared shock as the tears kept flowing. "No, of course she isn't going anywhere. Why would she?"

"If…If…" Unable to answer around her hiccoughs, Lucy cuddled more into him, seeking reassurances for fears she couldn't give a voice to. Rubbing her back to relax her, Will searched for a reason why she thought seeing Rebecca meant losing Elizabeth and only came up with one.

"Your mummy and I aren't getting together again just because she's back," he murmured into her ear. "I…I love your mummy because she gave me you, but I'm in love with Elizabeth. I want her with both of us, always, and that's what she wants to, us. Probably you more than me because you're so amazing after all."

When her sniffles started subsiding, Lucy pulled back to regard her father again. "You promise she's not leaving? That she's coming home soon?"

"Sweetheart, we told you already: Elizabeth is just having a nice, long visit with her father before he goes back to London. That's the only reason she isn't here now, stealing the bits of your dinner you don't like when you think I can't see."

His teasing worked as Lucy graced him with a small smile. "No, Elizabeth just says my brother gets really hungry sometimes."

"For this rubbish? Poor boy." Bria winked at both of them and Will was gratified to see Lucy smile even more. Reaching for Lucy's hand, she pulled them both towards the stove. "How about your father packs up this pig slop and I show you how to make the best grilled cheese this side of the Thames?"

Deciding one night without veggies wouldn't scar Lucy's eating habits from here on in, Will took Bria's advice, putting away the leftovers while listening to Bria give a dissertation on proper grilled cheese preparation. It was as the two of them were going over bread thickness that Will's phone finally rang.

Don't do that again, luv, he thought as he eased outside to the front porch to take Elizabeth's call. I know how hard it is for you with him, but you can't…

His blood chilled to ice when he saw the caller wasn't Elizabeth.

It was Corrine.

Throwing on a stray pair of sandals, he raced to the car, turning the engine over as he answered. "What's wrong? Is the baby alright? Did something-?

"William, they're both fine," her patient brogue assured him. "Now take a deep breath before you give yourself a panic attack."

"The midwife calls an expectant father out of the blue and that's your only advice for him? Breathing?"

"Is there anyone you can leave Lucy with to come up here now?"

"Yeah, Bria's with her. Why do you need me to…Ms. Calvert, please just tell me what's going on."

Her end was silent, save for the sound of her feet moving. "Elizabeth is here. She's washing upstairs and she doesn't know I'm calling you."

"I thought you-"

"Something happened today with her father." Red-black fury flooded his vision and he blinked to dislodge it, pulling away from the house, gripping the wheel tightly with his free hand. "William?"

"What did he say to her?"

"I'll explain when you get here in one piece."

"I'll bash that fucker's head in with my bare hands," he vowed.

"Young man, you will do no such thing. That girl is my patient and I assure you the very last thing she needs now is to find out her baby's father ended up in prison for trying to murder someone. So, again, take a deep breath." She waited for him to reluctantly comply. "Come to the house. She'll be safe here until you arrive."

Speeding away from his own home, he drove the half hour to Corrine's in twenty, taking care to send a series of text to Bria about keeping Lucy for the night and calling Anamaria over if she needed help. When she tried to force her way into the situation, arguing that her best friend needed her right now, Will shot her down in an instant.

Elizabeth needed him and him alone.

Necessity didn't mean it was easy, though. He hated feeling like he had abandoned his daughter out of the blue, especially with how she had reacted to the news of Rebecca, yet it couldn't be helped. With sudden clarity, he realized this was to be the rest of his life: shifting focus between Elizabeth, Lucy, and the baby, (not to mention any others if Elizabeth wanted more children); never having enough for all of them and leaving at least one disappointed in him.

Amazing the human race keeps going on. Either I'm too sensitive or there's a way to have a family while keeping your sanity.

Somehow, he'd have to find it.

As unselfish as he seemed to the outside, there were three people he'd never give up.

Pulling in front of Corrine's, he saw Elizabeth's jeep parked haphazardly across the way, the sun setting behind it. Corrine was waiting for him on the steps, her dark hair in a messy bun and wearing a smile that didn't reach her eyes. He stopped below her, staring beseechingly for answers he needed but didn't necessarily want to hear.

"She's resting," Corrine began gently. "I gave her some chamomile tea. Poor dear barely got three sips down before she fell asleep.

"What happened with…?" No, he still wasn't ready for that one yet. Something simpler then. "Why did she come to you?"

"I was gardening, digging up some bell peppers when I heard a woman yelling down the way." She nodded with her chin to a spot he knew to be remote dirt path a few hundred feet away, obscured by several trees. "When I ran down there, Elizabeth was near hysterics in her car, and I started checking to see if anything was wrong physically. She tried to brush me aside, but I forced her over so I could drive us back. Did a scan and a quick exam as soon as she was through the door."

"And you're sure everything is fine?"

"Your lad is fine and strong. We've nothing to worry about with him. His mother, though…" She sighed, pulling her arms tight around herself. "The only reason she agreed to come in is that I promised not to call you, but you're what she needs, William."

Moment of truth then.

"What did he do?" Will asked defeatedly. "What did he say this time to make her-?"

"He found Rebecca."

It was involuntary, the bubble of laughter that escaped his lips, but it died a slow, agonizing death when Corrine looked at him with such empathy. "No," he said, shaking his head. "No, no, it was the stupid magazine article I did. That was how she…"

Rebecca had happened to have a friend that worked for the publisher of a niche magazine? A friend who knew her sordid tale? Who recognized her daughter just by her very common name? And then afterwards, Rebecca was able to find the money to afford a high-priced lawyer who happened to have an ugly past with Jack?

Well, Elizabeth certainly didn't choose you for your brains.

All the commotion of the custody ordeal had taken his focus off of Weatherby Swann and the man's not-so-subtle claim he felt he still had on Elizabeth, and that distraction had been costly. The battle lines were being drawn up when Will thought they had reached a détente.

"He told Elizabeth his people found her and paid for her lawyer, someone that Jack was involved with a long time ago," Corrine explained. His shoulders sunk as reality began to set in. "I'm so sorry."

"Jesus Christ." He paced back and forth a bit, his thoughts racing by too fast for him to catch. "I knew he was a narcissistic arshehole the second I laid eyes on him, but this? I didn't know people like him actually existed in places outside of movies. I guess I'll to see what Bria says, if she thinks this is something we should bring to the judge and…" In his peripheral, he saw Corrine worry her bottom lip, her own eyes avoiding his. "What? What else did he tell her?"

"He also told her if…if she wants to guarantee that Lucy stays with you, then she needs to go back with him to London."

He blinked, the very idea of it nearly knocking the air from his lungs. "Well that's mad. She can't honestly think-"

With great care, she joined him one step above, gently cupping his cheeks, stopping him. "She said she was going to have to."

Not for the first time (but perhaps the strongest in a long while), Will ached for his mother. Even through her own struggles, even when grappling almost daily with the pain of abandonment by her joke of a husband, in her embrace he had known surety. After she died, it had taken years for him to claw his way back to it. Now, standing like a statue before Corrine, he felt it slipping away.

No, not slipping.

Being ripped away from him by a powerful sociopath who had only helped the world by siring Elizabeth.

He flinched when Corrine wrapped her arms around him, pulling his stiff form to her. It was a pale imitation of what he really wanted but since he couldn't have that, he buried his forehead against her shoulder, fighting a fierce battle against sobbing, his whole body shaking until his conscious started screaming at him.

Tears? Really? Elizabeth endured emotional torture this afternoon and all you can offer her is tears? How pathetic.

Pulling away, he sniffed, swiping any moisture from his face. "I want to see her," he told Corrine.

Nodding, she led him into the house, tiptoeing together up the stairs until they came to one of the bedrooms. Corrine eased the door open, the small bedside lamp providing the light that led him to Elizabeth, curled up into a snug ball on her side, breathing deeply and steadily, the oversize shirt Corrine had loaned her a sharp contrast to the redness under her eyes. He took one step toward her before Corrine tugged on his wrist.

"You can stay with her," she whispered, "but you need to let her sleep. Her system took on a good deal of stress and I'd like her to recover as much as she can before…before whatever comes next."

"Got it."

"You're both welcome to spend the night. I can make up the sofa downstairs for you so you can get some rest as well."

He answered by going to the oversized armchair and maneuvering it noiselessly as close to the bed as possible, never taking his eyes off Elizabeth. He was so focused, he startled slightly when Corrine came back into the room with an extra blanket and a stethoscope. "What's that for?" he asked about the medical instrument.

"You." She handed it to him before carefully adjusting the thin cover off of Elizabeth until her clothed stomach was exposed. "Thought you might want to check in on him yourself."

"Thank you," he told her feebly. "For everything."

She nodded, squeezing his shoulder in support. "You'll get through this. The both of you will."

He smiled without feeling, fiddling with the stethoscope. "I think this time it might be impossible."

"Everything is, young man, until someone finally works hard enough to find a way."

He ruminated on her words for a long while, turning them over in his head as he listened to Elizabeth's soft breathing. With a feather-like touch, he eased her shirt up to show bare skin. After fitting the ear pieces in, he warmed the diaphragm and gingerly placed it on her, moving it slightly and straining until his son's strong, pounding heartbeat drowned out everything else inside his brain.

I love you, Will told him silently, closing his eyes, allowing himself a few tears as he thought of never knowing this little boy. I loved you from the moment I knew you existed. I hope your mother makes sure you know that. I'll hope for so many good things for you, mate.

It could have been minutes or hours before he was brought out of his reverie, dreaming of the life he wanted his son to have without him, by Elizabeth's hand brushing across his jaw. Slowly coming back to reality, he stared down to find her wide awake, her own eyes unreadable.

Sighing, he took the stethoscope off her, severing the link to the baby with an aching heart as he cast it aside. "Hey," he managed to say, unable to think of anything else.

"Hi."

It hit him then how this was so like the morning after they had made love, each still a little hesitant but secure in the declarations of the night before. Only now, it was twisted into a rough knot that Weatherby Swann kept tightening.

And Elizabeth was letting him, seemingly without any kind of fight.

Buried in the crevices of his heart, he had always believed that she'd leave him. As he had told others more times than he could count, she deserved so much more than him. She deserved only the best and he couldn't give her that. It just killed him that she was doing leaving not because he had failed her, but because her father wanted his prize back.

Nearly as much as when he imagined his daughter's face when he had to break the promise he had made to her only a few short hours ago.

With great regret, he wished that Anamaria had never found her that day he had left her on the docks. Then he would never have been pulled back to her with news of the baby; Lucy never would've known her or the pain her leaving would soon cause; and he himself would have been able to live out his days believing he was actually happy.

The future – both near and distant – would bring all of them only suffering. Perhaps it was best to just leave now and let the process unfold rather than avoid it.

Except with Elizabeth's hand still touching him, still connecting them, still warming him deeply in spite of everything, Will couldn't leave her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to her, leaning down to brush his nose to her.

"You're sorry?" Her tiny giggle was incredulous. "My…That man is trying to have your daughter taken from you because of me and you're the one offering the apology?"

"He made his own plans, his own choices. You have no blame in this whatsoever."

"I let him in. He's evil; a devil in plain sight, only I never let myself see it. I was too stupid to look past his mask."

"You loved him. You wanted to believe the man who made you and raised you loved you. Trust me, from experience I know how tempting that can be, luv."

His movement to pull back from her stopped when Elizabeth took his whole face between her soft hands. "And I know what I have to do," she said, her voice strained but still clear. "We have to protect Lucy, no matter what."

"Elizabeth…"

"Rebecca can't be trusted with her. Even if she stays sober, she'll still take Lucy away to a strange place where she won't know anyone. I-I can't let that happen."

I can't lose you or my son, he thought, wishing he could scream it, but unable to bring her any more torment when she had endured enough today.

"I'll have Bria get started on the paperwork in the morning. I don't think I'll have any trouble convincing a politician as experienced as Weatherby Swann the logic of it all."

Paperwork? What was she talking about?

"What logic?" he asked. "I don't understand."

"I've been thinking of it since before Corrine found me. If I go back to London, Lucy will be safe but he'll…" Her tears dripped down her cheek anew as her hand joined his over the baby. Taking a deep breath to gather herself, she finally whispered, "That's why I have to terminate my rights to him. He won't be a Swann then and that man wouldn't be able to touch him."

"What?" he stammered, eyes squinting in disbelief, sure he hadn't just heard her.

There was no way she'd actually…

"I won't be able to keep him away from Weatherby in England. He has to be here, far away from him and m-me if our boy is going to have a chance. I can make Weatherby understand that having the baby with us back there is only going to be a reminder of you, of all the things he needs me to forget. He won't want him then, I'm sure of it." She sniffed, her hand caressing her swell as she gave it the saddest smile he had ever imagined. "Bria will bring him home to you and then…then you'll have the two of them, him and Lucy, together with you, where they should be."

It would be fair to say that nothing had shocked Will like that had, except he hadn't known shock until that very moment.

To protect his daughter, Elizabeth was willing – nay, suggesting – that she'd sacrifice raising her own child; a child she loved with all of that glorious heart of hers. She'd subject herself to a lifetime of brutalization at her father's hand, chained to his side until he found a suitable pawn to attach Elizabeth to; one that would make her miserable while he climbed social and political ladders on her back.

She'd do all that so he could raise both his children.

All that for him.

"I don't want you to worry about money or anything else either, if you don't want to keep working at the shipyard when the baby comes," he heard her say in the distance, his attention still trying to sift through everything else. "I got an email yesterday from Hank's lawyers. When they get the contents of my mum's deposit boxes released, there's apparently valuables in them: old stock certificates, jewelry, things like that. I want you to have it all."

She has it all figured out, doesn't she? Will thought mutely. She's taking care of everyone, except herself.

"You can put it in trusts for both of them for their education or…or you could travel with them. Show them the world, all of it. Not just the beautiful parts, but the parts where people need our help. They need to see those things. I want them to have meaning and purpose, not wander around fumbling like I did for so long."

What about me? What about what I want?

"But some of the money you should give to Anamaria, for the café so she can keep going with everything we started there. I'll get all my recipes together for her before I…before I…"

You leave. Before you leave all of us forever to wander around fumbling without you, luv.

"And please let Bria visit. I know how she is, but she does love you all desperately, even if she won't ever admit it. That's just how she is. Let her visit so the kids can see her. Then she can…" Elizabeth choked back a small sob, but Will was still too frozen to comfort her.

What? Tell you about them? About how Lucy's hair is a natural disaster because she screams bloody murder if anyone else tries to touch it? How she thinks she's too strange to have friends again? Or how our son stares at mothers when we go to the park or the grocer, wondering where his is? Are you going to want to hear all that?

"And…And…" Collecting herself again, she met his eyes once more, "I want you to find someone for yourself, Will." At that, he snapped back into sharp focus, his angry musings fading away at her soothing plea. "When you're ready, I mean. Don't hang on to me when there could be someone else out there who could make you happy." Lovingly, her hand rejoined his cheek as studied his face, committing him to memory in the moonlit room. "You deserve nothing but happiness, Will Turner. That's all I want for you."

She really did have it all planned out, down to the last detail. In a way, he was impressed. Lately, he had been absolutely rubbish at plans. He either couldn't make them because of indecision or when he finally did, life came along to spoil them. Fate liked to let him know who was boss, he supposed.

No more.

Letting go of her belly, he fumbled in his pocket as he slid from the chair down onto one knee in front of her. When it was within his grasp, he presented the ring to her between his thumb and forefinger.

"Elizabeth Swann, will you marry me?"

The rapid cycle of emotions her face ran through in that long moment would have been hysterical to him if not for the heaviness of the moment. Shooting up from the bed, she sat straight, blinking in what might have passed for Morse code. "Y-Y-You're…You can't…" she tried to say. "This is…"

"Marry me." His gentle command prompted her to wallop his shoulder, which only made him laugh with a genuine smile. "Please, I meant. Please marry me."

"Will, I…I…I don't…"

"What?"

Huffing shakily, she swiped underneath her eyes, fighting for some sense of direction to latch onto. "I…I don't…I don't think now is the best time!"

"Yes it is," he countered, holding the ring up closer to her face. "Now is the only time, luv. Marry me."

"But my father, he'll-"

"He doesn't matter. No one else does to me right now, except for you." Pressing forward, he kissed her stomach several times. "And him and Lucy. You three are all I will ever need, and I won't be a whole person anymore without all of you. So marry me."

"He'll fight us," she said breathlessly, her eyes growing larger as she finally looked at the ring. "He'll…He'll use every means to break us. He'll use Lucy and the baby if he has to. He's already moving Lucy around like she's a chess piece. What'll we do when he starts to take this even further?"

"We'll run," he said simply. "Or, actually, we'll sail, far away to a non-extradition country that Jack knows, financed by Hank DeMarcus, using fake passports that Anamaria and the others get their hands on while Bria keeps the lot of them out of prison. See, I can make impromptu plans too when the need arises."

"Will…"

"And I know it won't be that easy because nothing ever is but Elizabeth, I would rather endure weeks or months or even years of hell with you by my side than live a single day without you and though I can't guarantee, I think there's a fair-headed little girl with a strong Christmas tree obsession that feels the same." Taking her left hand, he kissed it reverently, eyes closed as if in prayer until he opened them to meet her earnest ones. "Again I ask, will you marry me?"

Swallowing, she touched the tips of her fingers to the ring, as if it would burn her if she got too close. He held his breath, trying to read her thoughts and trying to pass some of his (perhaps highly misplaced) optimism to her.

Say yes and I promise I'll never ask you for anything again, he thought, his eyes begging. Just say yes. Please.

"S-So, if I have this correct," she began quietly, "if I agree to this…this idea, Mr. Turner, there's a possibility that I might someday end up sailing on the high seas, violating many laws, and being thought of by some as…a pirate?"

For the first time that day, there was no pain behind her smile and Will returned it, carefully slipping the ring onto her finger before pulling her into a searing kiss, letting their blissful tears mingle together. "Captain Elizabeth Swann," he vowed against her lips.

"Oh no: Captain Elizabeth Turner."