***Isla de la Muerta***
Will Turner sat with his head in his hands, his bare feet in the cold water that led into the caves, the eerie silence all around him. It was dark here, it always seemed to be dark here, and to Will it seemed the perfect place to die. Cold, desolate, alone. Completely and utterly alone.
Closing his eyes, the young man shook his head, lifting it from his hands as he let himself fall backward, barely feeling the pain of hitting the hard rock. It seemed to him that everything about him was numb. Whether it was from the cold or from something else, he did not know.
"Elizabeth," he said quietly, his voice harsh and raw from the tears he had cried, his eyes coming open to stare up at the roof of the caves. He had lost count of the days it had taken him to come out here, to find this dreaded island, and all he knew was that it had all been in vain. He did not know why he thought he might find a clue somewhere around here, but something had told him this was the place to be, the place to try. It seemed he had been wrong... It seemed that he was always wrong.
Shaking his head slowly, he forced himself into a sitting position once more, then slowly climbed to his feet, the numbness in them making him stumble as he walked deeper into the caves. The tiniest mockery of a smile touched his lips as he thought of bringing Elizabeth through these caves and back to the Black Pearl, the way she had quietly declared that they should take the oars from the boats, making it more difficult for the pirates to follow them. Sad to think that a moment that had been filled with such urgency and fear at the time was one of the few good memories he seemed to have.
A soft curse tumbled from Will's lips as he nearly lost his footing, his hands coming down to catch himself before he ended up sprawling on the cold stone, the young man barely able to keep his balance. A frown touched his lips as he realized that he seemed to have cut his foot, but he couldn't find it within himself to care at the moment. A cut was nothing, not when he no longer cared whether he lived or died.
As he reached the largest part of the cavern, where endless treasures still seemed to lie - apparently Jack and his crew hadn't been back here to raid the treasure that wasn't cursed in the months since the Captain and his men and woman had left Port Royal for good. The stone chest holding the cursed treasure was still in the center, on top of a tall mound of sparkling things had held no power over Will. The only sparkling thing that had ever held power over Will Turner was Elizabeth Swann, and his heart twisted in his chest at the thought of her. He could still see her so clearly, dressed in that dress that Barbossa had forced her to wear, a dress clearly meant for a lady of the night and not for a well-borne young lady such as Elizabeth. Still, she had been utterly beautiful, somehow almost regal despite being dirty and disheveled. Or perhaps she only seemed that way through the eyes of his love for her.
Suddenly feeling sick, Will stepped closer to the water, leaning over the depths of it and retching, not sure if the sickness came from his exposure to the elements, or the severe sense of loss he had been feeling ever since discovering Elizabeth's shoes on the beach. Once he was done, he stumbled a few more steps then dipped his hand into clean water, splashing it up onto his face. The cold did not feel shocking to him, and as he shivered slightly, he realized that his entire body was numb with cold. Maybe this was what Barbossa felt like... Unable to feel anything.
Will shuddered suddenly at the thought of the nasty pirate, cringing as he realized that the evil man's body was probably still somewhere around, unless it had been washed away. He and Jack had tossed the body into the water, leaving it for the fishes to eat, and whether his bones were still in the waters of these caves or washed away into the sea, Will did not know, nor did he care. He felt no sympathy for the man that had kidnapped his Elizabeth... The man that had sent his father down to the depths, a canon strapped to his boots.
He felt another wave of sickness then, though he was unsure if it was caused by the thoughts of his father's death or by something else, and the young man sat down heavily, putting his hands to his face. He was wretchedly ill, of that much he was certain, though somehow he couldn't seem to care. He was certain Elizabeth had not died that night when he found her shoes on the beach, but where she was, he could not know. There had been no sign of her anywhere, no signs wherever he had gone, and now... Now he was lost. Without her, he was lost, and he no longer cared whether he lived or died.
He had given up hope.
Still shaking, Will forced himself to his feet, slowly making his way over to the cursed treasure, eyeing the heavy stone lid, part of him wondering if he could lift it. Just take a piece, and never feel again. No eating, no drinking, no... Anything. Elizabeth had told him that Barbossa claimed to feel nothing, not a thing... He'd never considered that to be a good thing until this moment. Maybe, if he took a piece of the treasure, the pain of losing Elizabeth would go away... But somehow he doubted it. And if he took that piece of gold, then he could not die, and without the woman he loved...
"It does not matter any longer," Will said softly, his gaze moving to a sword that lay nearby, his hand shaking as he reached over to pick it up. He froze then, however, his gaze going to the mouth of the cave, his eyes widening as he took in the meaning of the sounds he could now hear.
Someone was coming.