Falling

"Elizabeth! What the hell do you think you're doing?" Will's voice snaps, impatient to be away.

She is frozen. She teeters on the brink; one more move and she knows she will fall, plummeting into ruin. Will doesn't understand that she didn't mean to be here, that she didn't mean to get herself into this predicament, that it was an accident brought on by her own foolishness. She had suggested this route, and now she cursed herself for it.

"Elizabeth..." He is exasperated. He can't see that she is frozen in fear; he thinks she's being stubborn and disobedient, as usual. He doesn't see that she is tangled and that if she tried any harder to extricate herself, she'd fall. But then, Will never sees anything.

She begins to breathe harder, trying to calm herself and failing miserably. She was a fool to think that this was anything like climbing the rigging, like crawling into the crow's nest. She was a fool to think she could do this on land as easily as she could on the Sea, because she always knew where she was on the waves -- what matter if she fell? The 'Pearl or the Sea would catch her. But here? She is hanging on a rope ladder above the hard ground below, stretched out between two buildings in the hot Oriental night, and she can't go back to the other side and she can't go forward to where Will and Jack have already crossed and are waiting. And her right foot is caught. And the sweat is pouring into her eyes. And she's certain she'll die before they ever escape this damn place a world away from home.

"Elizabeth, be reasonable! Come along, now..."

"I think that under the circumstances, I'm being quite... bloody... reasonable..." she answers him, breath hissing between her teeth, panic settling into her chest.

He hears the oath, flinches, and for the first time hears the fear in her voice. In turn, he fears for her. It's not a short drop she hangs over. And worse yet, when is Elizabeth ever afraid?

Perhaps now he bloody well realizes that she can't move because she knows that if she does, she'll fall and oh God, where is her usual courage, her devil-may-care insouciance, her fearlessness? When did she suddenly become so afraid and how did she stop it and o please someone come get me someone help me someone get me out of here I don't want to fall...

"Elizabeth." It's his voice. Jack's. Warm and soothing, almost laughing. He has thrown it to her like a lifeline. "Come on, love. Come to me now." And he means, come across to the roof, but he means something else, too. And she suddenly knows it. It's a different kind of falling. She thinks that she is going to let go.

Will sees her face change, sees her eyes clear. And it is for Jack alone. In that moment, Will knows he has lost forever. Jack Sparrow owns her, she trusts him with her every bit of her being, and there is no place for William Turner between them. But still he tries. "Don't worry, Elizabeth. Just be still," he begins, edging one step back across toward her.

"Stop!" Jack and Elizabeth shout in tandem, as the rope ladder sways and she fights back a scream. Will freezes, slowly backing onto the roof. Jack cocks an eyebrow at him, scornful, and Will is hard-pressed not to strike him.

"Don't move," Elizabeth says, gritting her teeth and trying to breathe.

"I'm going to save you," Will tries to tell her, desperately, hating himself for the tone of his voice.

"You can't," she says softly. And oh, God, isn't that the truth, now? He can no longer save her from anything. She's already hanging over the edge, ready to drop.

"Elizabeth..." Jack says again, softly. Nothing else, no other direction, just that siren's call, leading her back to him with his voice alone. "Come on, love. I'd like to get back to the sea before dawn and it's been an awful long time." And he's laughing, but it's like a lullaby to her.

She hesitantly creeps forward on this thrice-damned spider's web of a rope-ladder, telling herself that of course it sways, it's rope, and the boys made it across just fine. She is gasping from the effort of making herself inch forward, sobbing for breath. "That's it, darlin'," she hears him say, "Listen to me..."

He is crooning to her, coaxing her, it's almost like being touched, caressed. She follows his voice, coming closer to him, wanting to touch him and then... she lets go. She has dropped. She has willingly fallen.

He reaches her before Will can, hands gripping her arms, pulling her forward almost into an embrace. Elizabeth can smell him, feel the wool of his coat under her fingers and doesn't care that Will is right there, watching, as she leans into Jack...

Oh, bugger. Jack quickly steps back, much as he hates to. His head is a little clearer than hers, it would appear. No sense in making the boy angrier than he already is. Still, he thinks to himself, nice to know that she has finally made up her mind. Because he can see it in the blaze of her eyes as she looks at him. "Alright, then, Lizzie?" he asks carelessly, trying to be flip, trying not to remember the horrible vision of her almost dropping to the ground below.

"Yes," she breathes, calming herself. And she is, now. Jack is here. Jack will always be here for her. She barely gives Will a second look; he is her past now. "Let's get to the ship. The sooner we're on our way back home, the better," she tells the two men. And there's no knowing what other adventures lay in wait on that journey.

Will doesn't speak, he doesn't trust himself to. He knows what has happened. Somehow, he made the wrong move, said the wrong thing, and Elizabeth has cast her lot with Jack. He doesn't know what will happen on the journey back to the Caribbean and he finds he no longer cares. He'll fulfill his vow to help his father gain his freedom, and then... he doesn't care what happens.

He watches Jack and Elizabeth's retreating backs, noting the way they move alike, noting how every nuance between them speaks of passion restrained. And knows he has no place in their world.