The ocean was mercilessly calm in the aftermath of the battle.
Where cannon fire had once roared, there was now only the rhythmic slap of waves against the Interceptor's battered hull. Smoke drifted across the deck, and the air smelled of salt, soot, and grief.
Elizabeth stood at the rail, staring at the horizon. She hadn't moved in hours. The light had drained from her face, replaced by the hard stillness of disbelief.
Jack Sparrow leaned against the mast, bottle in hand, hat tipped low. Even he who could find humor in a hanging hadn't said a word for the better part of the evening.
Will Turner stood near Elizabeth, his knuckles white around the railing. "We should've gone after him," he said, voice tight. "We could have"
Jack cut in quietly. "Could have died too, mate."
Will turned sharply. "You don't care."
Jack's eyes flicked up, sharp for once. "You've no idea how much I care. The lad was worth three of half this crew and twice the entertainment."
Elizabeth exhaled shakily. "He always joked he'd die doing something stupid."
Jack looked out to sea. "Aye," he said softly. "And he did it with style."
The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in bruised gold and violet. Elizabeth's hand trembled as she traced the chain around her neck, the one Edward had given her when they were children.
"He promised he'd always protect me," she whispered.
Will placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "And he did."
Jack took a long drink, muttering, "A pirate's life rarely lets the promises last."
Far Below
Beneath that same darkening sky, a very soggy Edward Swann lay draped across driftwood, muttering complaints at seagulls.
"Stop staring," he groaned. "I'm already humiliated enough."
The gull squawked.
"Don't mock me."
He waved a hand and nearly fell off the plank. "Marvelous. Truly heroic. Port Royal's greatest idiot."
A faint laugh bubbled from below. The water rippled, and Tamara surfaced, moonlight tracing silver patterns across her hair.
"You're still alive," she said, smiling faintly. "Impressive."
"I'd bow," Edward croaked, "but the ocean refuses to let me stand."
She arched a brow. "Most men would drown. You… complain."
"Everyone needs a talent."
Tamara rolled her eyes, holding out a small net bag of food. "Here."
He blinked. "You really do like me."
"It's a pity," she lied.
Edward grinned, biting into dried fish with dramatic gratitude. "Pity never tasted so delicious."
Back on the Interceptor
Night fell heavily, and grief became exhaustion. Jack finally broke the silence by slamming his bottle down on a crate.
"That's it! Moping's bad for morale!"
Will glared. "He's dead, Jack."
"Aye, well, so are half the pirates in Tortuga, they just don't know it yet."
Elizabeth turned sharply. "You heartless"
Jack raised a finger. "Heartless, yes, but not wrong. He wouldn't want us blubberin'. He'd want us drinking, fighting, and doing something spectacularly stupid."
Will clenched his jaw. "You're drunk."
Jack blinked. "Yes. That's how I grieve."
He looked to Elizabeth. "Lass, if it makes you feel better, he was brave. Foolish, but brave. I'll even write him a ballad. Something with a good chorus."
Elizabeth's eyes flashed. "If you ever make his death into a tavern song"
"I'll dedicate it to you," Jack said cheerfully.
Meanwhile, on the open sea
Edward finished eating and lay back against his plank, staring at the stars. "You know," he said to Tamara, "they think I'm dead."
"They're not entirely wrong," she said dryly.
"Charming as ever."
Tamara tilted her head. "What will you do when you find them again?"
He smiled faintly. "Yell at Jack. Hug Elizabeth. Then yell at Jack again."
She gave a small laugh. "You speak as though the ocean will simply hand you back to them."
"It might," Edward said with mock confidence. "It seems to like me."
Tamara swam closer, eyes glinting. "The ocean doesn't like anyone. But… I could make an exception."
He raised an eyebrow. "Careful. I might start thinking you care."
She smirked, leaned forward, and whispered, "Don't drown."
Then she vanished beneath the waves, leaving him blinking at the empty sea.
Edward sighed, then looked upward, shouting, "WHY IS EVERY WOMAN IN MY LIFE SO MYSTERIOUS?!"
A gull cawed in response.
"Not helping!"
He flopped back against the plank, muttering, "First thing I do when I see Jack again is steal his hat."
The Next Morning
On the Interceptor, Elizabeth woke from uneasy sleep to find Jack staring out over the bow.
"Can't rest either?" she asked softly.
He shook his head. "No."
For once, the swagger had slipped. "Lad had a knack for making the world a bit louder. Bit brighter."
Elizabeth looked to the horizon, eyes soft. "He'll come back."
Jack gave her a long look. "You sound sure."
"I have to be."
Jack nodded slowly, almost respectfully. "Hope's a dangerous thing, love."
She smiled faintly. "So's underestimating a Swann."
Far away, under the same dawn light, Edward sneezed violently.
He groaned, rubbing his nose. "Someone's talking about me. Probably something flattering."
Then he froze, eyes widening at the shape of sails on the horizon.
"Finally," he muttered, grinning as he spotted a ship drawing near. "Time to make an entrance."