The familiar crunch of heavy soled boots on sand woke Elizabeth from her fitful sleep. Her lifestyle of late had taught her to sleep with an ear diligently tuned in to the sound of danger, and there certainly had been no signs of that particular aspect of her existence changing anytime in the foreseeable future. Her first groggy thought had been that everything had been nothing but a bad dream, and that Will had never left her, or at the very least would return any moment to take her away to someplace where they could live out their lives in anonymity. How or why that could have been possible mattered not. A cold knot of horror formed in her stomach as she realized that her wishful thinking was no more than just that. No amount of longing for him would bring him back. She was still where he had left her.

Alone.

With no one to rely on but herself.

To make matters worse, there were clearly more than one set of boots headed her way. As to who was wearing them, she had no idea. She willed herself to control the shiver of terror that coursed through her body. Her immediate impulse was to reach for either her knife or her sword and make ready to defend herself, but they too, were out of her reach. In her attempt to contain her devastating grief, she had neglected to retrieve both her and Will's swords from the beach. Stupid, stupid, stupid. The knife, along with the other items that had been donated in hopes of ensuring her survival, were neatly piled near the now dying fire, awaiting her departure. The only thing of any substance within her reach was the Chest and that she would defend to her very last breath, no matter what the cost. Will's survival was inextricably linked to her own. Should something happen to her, Will would be condemned to ferrying souls for all eternity—or worse. Fighting down her panic, and quickly evaluating the situation, Elizabeth deemed her best, and perhaps only, option was to continue to feign sleep in hopes that the intruders would take what they wanted and leave her in peace.

"Do ya think I should wake 'er?" The whispered question came from a point not three feet from her head. How had one of them gotten that close without me noticing? The voice sounded younger than she had anticipated.

"She's earned her rest after all she's been through these few days past, but we can't afford to dawdle. Get 'er moving," another, much deeper voice growled from further away. Elizabeth registered her recognition of the gravelly voice with its characteristic drawl, but could not place it. A pirate, yes, but which one? There are so many of them now.

More footsteps, more voices, but not nearly as close as the first one she had heard. The sound of hushed conversation floated through the night air, not clear enough for her to make out all of the words, but enough to know that she was the topic of discussion. She could hear someone take four or five steps towards her and stop. Elizabeth flinched at the touch of a small hand on her shoulder.

"Cap'n Swann? Miss? Ye need ta wake up now, we've come ta take ye back ta Shipwreck," said the same person that Elizabeth had heard first.

This time her senses registered that the voice belonged to a child – a child with sadness permanently embedded in his voice. But for what or whom? Elizabeth slowly, but cautiously, opened her eyes and allowed them to adjust to the dark. The moon was quite bright, but there was just enough cloud cover to prevent her from seeing any details beyond a short distance. Fortunately, or unfortunately, as the case may be, she didn't need to worry about that. Her young guest sat on his haunches not two feet from her face. He had one arm wrapped around his knees and the other hand gently shaking Elizabeth's shoulder. Elizabeth was sure she had never seen him before. Surely she would have remembered a child with hair like his. Although it was seriously in need of some quality time with a brush and comb, it had to be the most intensely brilliant copper color Elizabeth had ever seen. That, combined with startling emerald green eyes, would most assuredly make the boy stand out in a crowd.

"Yer awake! I'm Evan. Evan Ross or least that's what they call me," he said, offering her the hand that had been insistently shaking her upper body.

Elizabeth pushed herself up on one elbow and squinted tiredly at the boy. Her first inclination was to believe that he could not be more than six – seven at the most— but upon closer inspection his face told a different story. This was a boy who had not been dealt the best of hands in his childhood—a childhood that had apparently ended much too soon or quite possibly never truly begun. Elizabeth estimated that he was much closer to being a teenager than the little boy she had first taken him for. No matter what his age, as a pirate, that meant he could be dangerous. I thought Will was a pirate when we were only twelve. The random thought brought yet another twist of pain to her wounded soul.

"Good. She's awake," said the other voice she had heard. "Get a move on."

Elizabeth turned her head to see the form of Captain Teague, Jack Sparrow's father, ambling slowly towards her. It still surprised her to think that Jack had a father. Had someone told her that Jack Sparrow had simply staggered from the waves one day, a fully grown man, beaded dreadlocks swinging, carelessly waving around a sword in one hand and carrying an open bottle of rum in the other, she would not have doubted it for a moment. I don't even have Jack to look out for me.

"Boy, help her with her things. We need to get back through the Devil's Throat before it gets light. We've been out too long as it is, and we can't be having any Company ships finding their way in to Shipwreck."

Elizabeth sat up, looked around, then stood up and began to silently shake the sand from the blanket and fold it up. Her sight blurred with tears as she buried her face in the coarse fabric and inhaled deeply, all while fervently wishing that she would be able to recall Will's familiar scent for the next decade. She choked back a sob and turned to retrieve that which she treasured the most.

"I can help ye with this, I can," offered Evan as he reached for the Chest.

Elizabeth struck like a viper. "Don'ttouchthat!" she snapped.

Evan sprung back from the chest as if burned. "I'm sorry," he stammered," I dinna mean ta fash ya. I were just…" Evan stepped back further from Elizabeth and the Chest, lowered his head and studied his bare feet, trying to disguise the fact that Elizabeth had hurt his feelings.

While Elizabeth regretted having snapped at the boy, who had clearly meant no harm, she didn't regret the reason behind her reaction. Perhaps she shouldn't have spoken so sharply, but the boy's wounded dignity paled in comparison to what she felt in regards to the Chest and the safekeeping of its contents. "No, I'm sorry. You were trying to help. It's just…" Elizabeth choked up, fighting back the tears that again threatened to run freely.

"That's it, ain't it? 'is heart is in that box. That's Cap'n Turner's 'eart in there," Evan spoke in a hushed, almost reverent tone.

Elizabeth regarded the Chest for a moment before answering. "Yes, yes it is," she said, sighing heavily, then handing the blanket to Evan and gracefully picking up the smallish wooden casket herself. "And I need to keep it close by. I need …" she hesitated and then began to cry silently. She blinked the tears from her eyes and tucked the Chest securely under one arm.

Evan reached out with one dirty hand and took Elizabeth's mostly clean one into his own. "Don't worry yerself none. Cry if ye need ta. I'll take care of ye. I promise," he said solemnly, as he lead Elizabeth to the fire and the impatiently waiting Captain Teague.

I'll take care of you, I always will. I promise. Those had been Will's exact words to her on more occasions than Elizabeth could count. Even when things had been strained between them, he had never taken back that promise. At World's End, when she had learned of her father's murder, Will had been the one she had run to for comfort. Elizabeth's stomach lurched as she remembered that Will had whispered that same sentiment to her that night, while she cried disconsolately in his arms. And now that I need him the most, he's where I cannot go.

"You'll be wanting to take these."

Elizabeth flinched at the sound of Teague's voice, having momentarily lost herself in her thoughts.

The venerable captain had spoken in a way that made his words sound more of an order than a question. He made no acknowledgment of her temporary confusion as he handed her the small knife and the sack of coins, while himself keeping the bundle containing all her worldly belongings.

Elizabeth released Evan's hand only long enough to quickly swipe away her tears. She then awkwardly tied the bag to her belt using just her one free hand and then tucked the knife into the belt beside it. There was nothing that could make her relinquish her hold on the Chest.

Without a word, Teague turned and headed towards a longboat that was beached directly in front of her campsite. Will had been right, as always, to ensure that the fire remained burning, for it had provided her rescuers with a beacon to follow. Would they have found me otherwise? Had Will suspected that Jack would ask his father to come find me?

"I have a boat already," she mumbled to anyone who was listening. She turned her head in the direction the boat she had used should be, but it was not there. She stood for a moment, with a puzzled expression on her face, staring off into the darkness, wondering how anyone could have moved the boat without her hearing. She certainly hadn't thought she had been that hard fast asleep—it certainly hadn't felt like she had been. Has he only been gone a few hours?

"It's already been taken back to the Guardian by my men," Teague said, anticipating Elizabeth's confusion and solving her mystery. "The mite and I will be taking you in this one," he added, gesturing towards the waiting longboat, but never once breaking his stride.

Elizabeth stood in stunned silence at all that was happening and watched Teague's determined retreat. She hadn't given much thought as to exactly who would come to her rescue after Will's departure, but it made some sort of bizarre sense that it would be Captain Teague. Jack didn't trust many people and of all the possible people he could have entrusted with her safety, she supposed that his own father was the one he mistrusted the least. It should have come as no surprise that the entire recovery mission thus far bore the distinct stamp of Jack's somewhat convoluted planning strategies. As she stood t here pondering how the plan was apparently progressing with uncharacteristic flawlessness, she gradually became aware of a hand, not much smaller than her own, gently tugging her in the direction her would be rescuer had taken.

Elizabeth took the seat in the dead center of the boat, with the Chest clutched to her, her arms wrapped protectively around it. She lacked both the physical and emotional reserves to even begin making inquiries about the current plan. For the first time in her life, she seemed resigned to allow events around her to just happen with no input on her part. She was too distraught to care about much of anything other than protecting the Chest and getting herself to safety.

Evan sat patiently to one side of the boat, staring awe stuck at the Chest in Elizabeth's lap. Even in Elizabeth's current state of emotional turmoil, she was remotely aware that the boy had appointed himself to be her protector, whether she liked it or not. She certainly didn't think she needed one, even when one would clearly have been to her benefit, but there was some small comfort in knowing that there was somebody—anybody—left who made her a priority.

Captain Teague sat across from her, and although he was facing her direction, his attention was focused elsewhere. He never once looked her in the eyes, but continued to stare off into the distant night. What could he possibly see there? Two more residents of Shipwreck Island manned the oars as they began the short trip from the beach to the waiting ship in total silence.

The Guardian wasn't a very large ship. Out of more habit than interest, Elizabeth turned a full circle taking in the number of masts and other details. Her best guess was that it was perhaps a caravel or something similar. And although quite capable of traveling long distances, she was sure that this particular one tended to stick to the waters surrounding Shipwreck Island. Its sleek design practically ensured that she was fast—perfect for harrying potential prey or intruders. She laughed nervously to herself as she remembered her father's frustration with her fascination with ships and sailing over more seemly pastimes befitting a young lady of her station. Had he ever realized that her apparently inappropriate interest in ships, naval battles and pirates had served her far better than embroidering a sampler ever could have?

As children, even Will had not understood her obsession. She had a sudden vivid flash of Will and herself when they were young, probably not more than 13, telling her that he would never ever go to sea again. He had nearly lost his life in one shipwreck, so why tempt fate? He had been perfectly content to remain with his feet firmly planted on the ground. "And look where you are now," she said aloud without meaning to. And I miss you so much that it hurts.

"Wha'?" Evan asked.

"Leave her be, boy," Teague interjected before Elizabeth could answer. "I've asked the Captain to make his cabin available to you. It's a short jaunt back to Shipwreck, but you might be more comfortable there."

"Thank you, but no. I think I would rather stay on deck," Elizabeth responded emotionlessly. She scanned the area immediately around her in search of a suitable place to ride out the short journey. Spying a likely looking trunk that would afford her a view of the water over the balustrade, Elizabeth walked listlessly over to it and gracefully seated herself on her makeshift berth. She forced herself to keep her chin up and her eyes focused on the midnight black water, as she sat with one arm wrapped protectively around the Chest and the other resting lightly on its lid. In the near complete silence, she thought she could hear the quiet, but steady beat of Will's heart. It's beating in time with mine.

She had no idea how long she had sat there, dozing off occasionally, fighting off tears constantly, staring into the dark, when she heard the sound of footsteps hesitantly approaching her. She turned her head towards the sound and saw Evan standing several feet away, holding the blanket she had brought with her. She was tempted to send him away to allow her to wallow in her grief alone, but something made her hold her tongue.

He cocked his head to one side and regarded her inquisitively. "I thought ye might be cold, so I brought this back to ye."

After a moment of awkward silence, Elizabeth finally mumbled a hushed, "thank you," and reached for the blanket.

"I've got it," Evan said quickly as he rushed forward to drape the still sandy blanket around her shoulders.

Elizabeth smiled weakly at the boy, then tentatively ran her fingers over the rough fabric hanging loosely from her shoulders. "Thank you," she whispered, "that was very kind of you." She picked up one corner and rubbed it against her cheek. This is not how I imagined this would be. You deserve a real bed and candlelight not a moth-eaten blanket and a campfire. "I can almost feel him," she said even softer than her whisper.

Evan blushed at her words. He tried to hide his embarrassment by looking down at his own feet shuffling nervously on the planks. "I overheard Cap'n Teague an' Cap'n Sparrow talking," he started slowly, then in a rush added, "I know I warn't supposed ta be there, but it were an accident, I swear." With that, he used his right hand to swiftly trace the figure of an "x" in the air over his heart. This action was immediately followed by him spitting on his palm and then holding it upright as if taking a sacred oath.

Elizabeth laughed lightly in spite of herself. "And what did they say?" she asked conspiratorially. The temporary respite from her heartache was unexpected, but appreciated.

Evan scrunched up his nose and frowned as he tried to decide if what he had heard was really a secret or not. Just because he had overheard it while he was somewhere he shouldn't have been, didn't mean it was necessarily something he shouldn't have heard. He stood up as straight as possible, threw his shoulders back and announced, "They said ye needs lookin' out for 'cause o'…" he stopped suddenly as his eyes locked on the box in Elizabeth's arms.

Elizabeth followed Evan's gaze to the Chest. She closed her eyes, pressed her lips together and swallowed hard. She drew in one deep breath then released it slowly before she began to speak. "It's not actually me they need to look out for, is it?" She opened her eyes and stared up at the velvety black sky. "It's this, isn't it?" she asked, as she rubbed one hand across the lid of the Chest. Her voice broke as the tears started to flow yet again.

Evan cautiously stepped closer to Elizabeth and placed one dirty hand on top of hers reassuringly. "I…I dunna know. I dinna hear that part." He gave her a weak smile. "But since I promised I'd look after ye, I guess that means I'll be right here." The boy stopped to consider his words for a moment. "Unless ye'll be wantin' ta send me away?" Evan quirked one eyebrow questioningly as he spoke.

Elizabeth again gave a faint laugh and smiled through her tears. It was crystal clear to her that Evan was fervently hoping he would be allowed to stay. "And what do your parents think of this plan?"

Evan shuffled his feet uncomfortably and frowned. "I don't be having no one 'cept for meself."

"Evan, is it? How old are you?" Elizabeth asked quietly, fighting back another flood of memories as she spoke, memories of another young boy at sea with no one to look out for him.

"Eleven," he answered proudly. "Or that's what they tell me. Either way, I'm near to bein' a man what can take care of 'imself." He puffed out his scrawny chest with pride.

The image of that other boy, not much older, also apparently an orphan, surged back into her mind. That one too had been incomparably resourceful and proud of it. Despite the tears that welled in her eyes and her trembling lower lip, Elizabeth smiled at the memory of the day Will had quite unexpectedly entered her life and changed it forever. For better or worse. They had not actually said that part of their vows, but there had never been even the slightest doubt that the intent was there.

"How long have you been on your own?" Elizabeth's voice cracked slightly.

"My whole life," he said simply.

"Well that's hardly possible, now is it?" Elizabeth continued to be amused at her self-proclaimed protector and his increasingly strange tale.

Evan shrugged by way of reply. He had lived all of his short life in the company of people who viewed the truth as somewhat flexible. Finding that someone didn't believe him was pretty much an everyday occurrence. "I know I must of 'ad a mum and all that, I might of even 'ad a da' too, but I canna remember 'em. I've been on one ship or another for as long as I know. "

"Oh?" Elizabeth was taken aback by the Evan's matter of fact manner. "And who looks out for you when you're not at sea?" she inquired, remembering how hard life had been for Will with no real family and yet he at very least had some degree of cursory supervision from the Browns.

"I told ye, it's just me. As long as I dunna overstay my welcome in any one place it works out fine. A body learns who ta stay clear of pretty fast when yer out at sea."

Elizabeth continued to look at Evan, staring into his startlingly green eyes, as she took in all she had learned about him over the course of their short conversation. The last thing Will has said to her was 'to keep a weather eye.' Surely he had meant for her to stay alert for any and all unexpected opportunities. Perhaps Evan was the first of those? How could it possibly be a mere coincidence that a boy, whose life bore so many similarities to Will's, had dropped into her life so soon after she had been left to her own devices? Evan might have been just a child still, but she had to admit that the thought of having a companion of sorts more than a little appealing, if for no reason other than to have someone to help her find her way in Shipwreck. Did you know that I would need him, Will?

"Well? What do ye say?" Evan asked hopefully.

Elizabeth forced a bigger smile than she felt at the moment. "I think having my own personal protector would be nice."

Evan grinned with unabashed pleasure. "I promise I'll take good care of ye, and I always keep me promises."

Evan's words erased any doubt in Elizabeth's mind that he had been sent for a reason, whether from divine influence— pagan or not—or just coincidence, did not matter.

Elizabeth chose to remain on deck during the entire trip to Shipwreck. The first pink rays of dawn were beginning to streak the sky as they approached the Devil's Throat—the treacherous and often lethal approach to the hidden lagoon and the settlement where the pirates resided. She shuddered involuntarily as the passage came into view. Was it just two days ago that I saw it for the first time? Even in the growing daylight, the interior of the watery corridor was as black as night. The realization that she would have to go through that darkness before she could return to the light was not lost on her. Elizabeth closed her eyes and swallowed hard as she mentally prepared herself for what might lie ahead. Life as she knew it was changed forever. There was no place for her to go but forward.

No one waited at the docks to greet them, not that Elizabeth had expected anyone, but to find them completely deserted seemed unusual under the best of circumstances. Shouldn't there be people guarding the ragtag fleet knowing that the East India Trading Company was still in pursuit of the remaining pirates? There was also the matter of the presence of ships from across the seven seas; ships that belonged to people who seldom got along, and to whom sabotage was as much a habit for them as breathing. The disparity between the now silent and deserted marina and the raucous battle preparations, hardly two days before, was disconcerting at best. Only the occasional flicker of oil lamps here and there gave any indication that there were still a few people left in Shipwreck who had not long since passed out from the effects of copious amounts of rum. Not that they had needed an excuse, but they had earned a right to celebrate.

Elizabeth surveyed the ships of those pirate lords still in residence, floating peacefully in their moorings. Oddly enough, she was both relieved and disappointed that the Pearl was not among them. It crossed her mind to ask if it was Jack or Barbossa who now captained the ship, but she quickly discarded the question. If one of them was still here, she would find out soon enough. Besides, in her heart she already knew that neither man had any illusion that they would ever see her again. That had been clear at her departure. Panic began to set in at the realization that there was quite literally no one left for her.

"Come with me, girl," Teague grunted as they disembarked. They were the first words he had spoken since she had boarded the Guardian only hours before, and leaving her island fading in the distance. And her island was how she thought of it now. No matter what happened next, the memory of her one day with Will on that anonymous chunk of land would forever be seared into her brain. I'll wait for you Will Turner. It doesn't matter how long it takes. I love you more than my own life. I'll be here when you return.

"Boy, where are your manners? Help her with her gear," Teague ordered, turning his back to the docks and beginning to walk away. Although he hadn't specifically said, he clearly intended for them to follow.

Evan cautiously eyed Elizabeth and the carved box she held clutched to her chest before picking up Elizabeth's small pack filled with its strange collection of mementos and other miscellaneous items she had thought she might need. After slinging the bag over his narrow shoulders, he stooped to collect the pair of well-used swords that had been left on the planks by another member of the crew. Shifting his load to balance it more evenly, he wordlessly followed Captain Teague towards the precariously stacked remains of hundreds of ships that formed the core of the pirate's lair.

Elizabeth hesitated for a moment, suddenly unsure of herself, of her surroundings, and her companions. I know none of these people and yet I have no choice but to trust them with my well-being, perhaps even my life. Quickly deciding that she realistically had no other choice, she opted to follow her diminutive, but determined, minder and the enigmatic man who had sired the equally perplexing Jack Sparrow.

Elizabeth dutifully trudged behind Captain Teague and Evan on their seemingly endless journey through the veritable rabbit's warren of corridors that formed the interior of the tower. The trio climbed steadily upwards with each progressive step. It hadn't taken more than a few minutes before Elizabeth realized that she was, for all intents and purposes, completely lost. She struggled to control her breathing in an effort to hide her ever increasing level of anxiety. I can't do this.

At no point did Teague even hesitate for a second at any of the innumerable forks or twists and turns they encountered along the way. If the man who was the Keeper of the Code intended for Elizabeth to doubt her ability to negotiate the maze of passageways on her own, then he had succeeded. Furthermore, it had eradicated any random consideration she might have given to striking out on her own. Where else could I even go? I have no one.

Truthfully, all she wanted at the moment was to be left alone to wallow in her grief. It didn't even matter where just so long as no one bothered her or expected anything from her. She had been pulled in so many different directions for so long, that she hardly knew which path was right for her. All that mattered at the moment was that her heart wasn't irreparably broken—there was still the promise of Will's eventual return— but it was a hair breadth from it. It was of no consequence that her tears and despair would do nothing to change the situation. She needed to mourn her loss –not only of Will, but also the life she had known, the life she had anticipated, the family she had dreamed of, the only family she had, and undoubtedly the numerous other things that had yet to occur to her.

Eventually the trio stopped before a doorway that opened towards the interior of the complex— or at least Elizabeth thought it did. Between the circuitous path they had taken along their course, and her current inability to focus on her surroundings, she had become completely disoriented. She stared off into the dimly lit corridor, wondering where it led. If I really were being held prisoner, I would have long since given up hope of escaping. I could wander these halls for eternity and never find my way out.

The musical rattle of iron keys drew Elizabeth's attention back to Teague. She turned towards him just in time to watch him unlock the door and push it open. "You might be the King, but your quarters are no better than the rest of ours," Teague commented as he entered the room, motioning for Elizabeth to follow.

The interior of the cabin was lit by a single oil lamp placed on a writing table set in the middle of the room. What little light there was from the breaking dawn filtered in through the open windows—portholes actually—and shone on the narrow bed pushed up against the bulkhead. Or is it just a wall now? From her vantage point, it appeared that the bed had both a pillow and clean sheets. When was the last time I slept in a real bed? It was apparent that her arrival had been both anticipated and expected.

"Rest while you can. Someone will come for you when it's time."

"Time for what?" Elizabeth asked, but was answered only by the sound of the door closing. She turned and stared at the closed door for a moment, suddenly feeling both literally and figuratively shut off from the rest of the world. She shivered, not from cold, but from anguish, as she hugged herself.

Turning back to the windows, she noticed the tiny houses clustered haphazardly on the shores of the lagoon or tenuously clinging to the steep cliffs formed by the caldera of the extinct volcano. Delicate tendrils of smoke wafted up from nearly every chimney she could see. For the first time since her ordeal had begun she stopped to consider that even the pirates had families of sorts. Do these men have wives and families like everyone else? Am I the only one left who is completely alone?

She squeezed her eyes tightly shut; holding back the tears that never seemed too far away. This can't be all that my life has been reduced to. I can't let that happen. I won't let that happen. She opened her eyes as she walked to the bed and sat down gingerly on the edge. After so long as sea, she had more than halfway expected it to swing like the hammocks many of the crew normally slept in. It almost felt unnatural for it to remain stationary.

She had no idea how much time had passed with her sitting there, staring off into nothingness and completely oblivious to the world around her. I have to fight. Will expects that of me. Suppressing a yawn, Elizabeth lay down on the bed, futilely wishing that her husband was there beside her. I felt so safe sleeping next to him. She lay on one side with the Chest pulled tightly against her. No matter how much she didn't want to accept it, the reality that one chapter of her life had closed before it should have began to sink in while a new chapter was about to open. With far less effort than she expected, Elizabeth Turner slipped into a dreamless sleep that only came from complete mental, physical and emotional exhaustion.

Author's note: Yes, this is the end of this story sequence, but not the end of the tale. Jack E. and I will be continuing the adventure in a new series titled Chasing the Horizon. Keep an eye out for it!