'My Dearest Jamie,

I know as you read this, you'll be looking for me. Please, stop. I'm not lost. I have not been taken against my will.

I cannot say too much, but I will write to you again soon, love x

Yours,

Abigail

Xxxxxxxx

To My Darling Jamie,

I know it's been a couple of weeks now and I hope you are well. I cannot fathom what you must be feeling or what you must think of me, but please stay strong. I'll contact you again soon and it will all be clear.

Yours forever,

Abigail

Xxxxxxxxx

Jamie,

It's time. We'll see one another again soon. My next letter will be a set of instructions and please follow them. Also, I heard about Pierre, please do not shoot the next person who brings you a letter. And don't be mad, my love x we'll be together, I promise x

Abigail

As Former Commodore-Admiral-Pirate ruffian James Norrington looked down at the crumpled letter in his hand, he couldn't help but feel a little mad. Alright, he was fuming. He was so angry and betrayed and a whole tirade of emotions were running wildly through his chest and head and they all screamed one thing: Get to Abigail.

It had all started with her sudden change of behaviour. She was evasive, she couldn't seem to sleep and no matter how many jobs Jamie took over from her, he couldn't seem to get her to relax. She was distracted and she would not open up to anyone, not even her own husband.

Barbossa had not noticed (nor would he have cared if he had) and whilst he wouldn't call his shipmates 'friends', one or two had promised to keep an eye on her when he couldn't.

He'd damned himself for not keeping a closer eye on her when the ship docked at the next port. Most of the crew had left to 'stretch their legs' and 'spread their seeds', but Abigail had merely stated she was going to check up any mail she may have had. She'd kissed him goodbye and he should have known then that something was wrong. She'd held him closer. She'd whispered 'I love you' to him. And when she disappeared into the crowds, she'd turned around one last time and blown him a kiss.

That was the last time he'd seen her.

When she hadn't returned after a few hours, he merely thought she had been held up. When she hadn't returned and night had fallen, he'd gone to look for her. He'd asked around and no one had seen her.

And when the early hours of the morning began to settle around him and pirates, sailors, whores and townsfolk alike finally collapsed in their warm beds for the night, Jamie had begun to call for her.

He'd cried out her name and searched every corner and every boat he could find. He'd asked and offered his own blood and money for any word of her.

Nothing.

She'd gone. Vanished.

Pintel had found him the next morning. Seated on the dock and looking out at the sun rising. He couldn't comfort him, nor did he have any idea how. That first week passed by in a blur of pain and worry for Jamie.

By day, he looked for her. He asked around again and begged people to let him know if they saw anything. By night, he took back to the rum and alehouses he'd frequented so many times before. He had to. He had to get the drink back in him to numb the pain and stop the dreams.

With no word, his mind ran rampant with different scenarios as to what could have happened to her. He'd seen her walk away and whilst it broke his heart, he hoped she'd merely walked back to her old life. Away from the sea, away from the pirates...away from him.

He'd dreamed of her lost and hurt, forgetting who she was and where she was meant to be. Wandering, alone and scared and unable to get back to him.

And then, the worst dreams began. The ones he tried to suppress for so long, but as his hope waned and the week went on, he dreamed of her taken from him. Bound. Held against her will and away from any help. Prying hands pulling at her as she cried out for mercy and him.

It was on the night he dreamed her dead, he vowed he wouldn't sleep for longer than an hour at a time. He couldn't.

And then the first letter showed up. Delivered to him by a man called Pierre, who had placed it in his hands and told him that his wife had wanted to send him it and something else. Jamie had been given a pouch of coins but he hadn't bothered to look inside. He'd dropped both the letter and pouch on the ground, pulled out his pistol and shoved it under Pierre's chin.

"Where is my wife? Where is she, What have you done with her?!"

Pierre, it seemed, didn't speak perfect English and had only cried out for mercy and that he did not know. Both Pintel and Ragetti had pulled Jamie off of the poor man and given him a chance to run away, though Jamie had managed to get them off and give Pierre a parting shot that lodged itself directly into the man's backside. He seemed to run faster, even whilst clutching one of his buttcheeks.

Pintel and Ragetti had brought him back to reality and placed the letter and pouch (albeit reluctantly when they felt the weight) into his hand and, shoving the pouch deep into his coat pocket, eagerly opened the letter. What he read made all his feelings of worry vanish and be replaced by a whole new tirade. There was a wave of growing anger, but it was being smothered by the feeling that...she had truly let him. Whilst she had called him 'love' and told him she'd write to him again, she told him to stop looking for her. That she wasn't being held against her will.

She'd really walked off and left him that day.

Jamie had used most of the money in the pouch that evening to buy so much rum, he could have filled a small tub with the stuff. He hadn't woken until the next evening, with a sore head, throbbing throat and a sickening feeling in his stomach that he managed to rid himself of quite quickly. By vomiting his entire stomach contents onto his boots.

Barbossa had left by this point. The Pearl was gone. Pintel and Ragetti had tried to get him back onto the ship, but Barbossa had stated that 'a man with half a shattered heart and soul was only going to bring bad luck' and left him there. Seated at the dock and watching them go, he felt...a pang of relief. Yes, he was free of his servitude upon the Black Pearl, but at what cost? He was alone.

And then the second letter came. And he'd read it again and again and this time, assured of her love for him, allowed his anger to grow. She'd left him. After everything they'd gone through, after everything they'd promised one another, she'd left him and was writing him cryptic letters and the promised that they'd see one another again?

Jamie had taken to fighting again. For a whole week, he was bruised, cut and sprained multiple appendages, but he didn't care. He needed an outlet and by God, if it meant hitting a few unsavoury characters, he'd happily do just that.

After that, the weeks passed by in a blur. When he wasn't drinking, he was passed out. When he wasn't fighting, he was passed out. And when he wasn't searching around for a sign of Abigail...he was passed out. He only remembered to eat when his stomach forced him to.

Months passed. Almost three, when the last letter turned up. Along with another letter, another pouch of money and the instruction to follow. He'd been led to a carriage and made to get in. When he looked over the other letter, he found it was actually a map with detailed directions to another town. A few days journey.

He was going to see her in a few days. She loved him and she was getting and closer the more the carriage went forward. And whilst his heart ached for her, it also ached for something else that she needed to give him: Answers.