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Coming up from below deck, Clara was blinded momentarily by the sun. She had a rough night's sleep but got up to help the crew with their chores. When her vision recovered, she saw James scrubbing the deck, having cleaned himself up slightly.
Guilt from how she treated him the night before had haunted her. He was alive and doing, well, not good to speak the truth. Her anger made things worse, instead of embracing him, she pushed him away. She could not fathom the hurt he felt.
Rolling up her sleeves, she sat down beside him and when he looked up, his grey eyes widened and then grew distant. He looked back down at the deck, continuing his chore. "Come to scorn me, have you?"
"No," Clara responded gently. "Only to understand - to get answers - as to why you did not come home. You had every means, but you kept me in the dark. I would have dropped everything in Port Royal if it meant I got to be with you again."
James shook his head. "A part of me hoped you would have moved on, between myself and Archer, you would have enough to start anew . . . I was ashamed, Clara, I couldn't face going back home. I wanted to write to you, to tell you something but the longer I waited the worse it seemed. I thought it would be better if you thought I was gone. I see now how stupid of a decision that was."
Clara's hand moved to rest on his knee and she gave him a soft smile. "You know I don't care about such things, James. I want to marry you because I love you, not your wealth or title."
He took her hand, gripping it tight as his thumb brushed over the ring. "You still wear it."
"Of course, a part of me always hoped I'd find you. That is partly why I joined Elizabeth, to find you and Archer. Which makes me ask: Where is my brother?"
Once again, James' face fell. "I do not know. I am sorry, Clara."
"It's alright. Maybe I really am destined to lose him. But I'm thankful that I have you back."
Suddenly, a hushed conversation between Elizabeth, Jack, and Mr Gibbs was heard. Their voices began to rise alongside tension, and Clara and James strained to listen.
"Beckett wants the compass. Only one reason for that."
"Of course. He wants the chest."
"He did say something about a chest."
"If the company controls the chest, they control the sea."
"A truly discomforting notion, love."
"And bad. Bad for every mother's son what calls himself a pirate. I think there's a bit more speed to be coaxed from these sails. Brace the foreyard!" Gibbs rushed off, leaving Elizabeth and Jack alone.
"Might I enquire as to how you came by these?"
"Persuasion."
"Friendly?"
"Decidedly not."
"Will strikes a deal for these, yet you were the one with the prize . . . full pardon. 'Commission as a privateer on behalf of England and the East India Trading Company.' As if I could be bought for such a low price."
"Jack, the letters, give them back."
"No. Persuade me."
"You do now Will taught me how to handle a sword?"
"As I said, persuade me."
Elizabeth stormed off in the direction of James and Clara, the first coming to understand a part of what was occurring. Glancing at his fiancée, James got up and came to stand beside Elizabeth, leaning on the handrail. "It's a curious thing. You never wondered how your latest fiancé ended up on the Flying Dutchman in the first place?" Without waiting for a response, he walked away.
"I won't ask what he said to you," said Clara. "But I will say this: we have to get that chest before anyone else. It's our only means to freedom."
Atop the quarterdeck, Catalina surveyed the crew as they went about their business. She handed the wheel over to Gibbs and sat halfway down the stairs with a sigh. She sat in relative silence until someone came trotting down to her. Glancing up, she saw that it was Jack and she grumbled under her breath.
"I know you well enough to understand when something is bothering you," he said gently as he sat a step below her. He offered the bottle of rum he held to her, but she declined.
"You were never going to leave me on Tortuga, were you?"
Jack looked away from her and took a long sip, buying himself some time. But in the end, he couldn't come up with a lie - rather, he didn't wish to lie to Cata any longer. "No. I knew it was no place for you. The men are vile and the women . . . the women, well-"
"Jack."
"What I'm trying to say is that I couldn't find it in me to leave you . . . again. I'm not expecting your forgiveness nor do I expect for this to be like they once were, but I want you in my life, Cata. It wasn't just happenstance that brought me back to you." He stood and stared at her longingly. And deep down, Catalina knew he meant every word. It wasn't an apology, she didn't expect that from Jack, but it was a start and she'd take it willingly.
As she watched him saunter off, she came to realize that perhaps she still loved him. She had spent so long hating him that she forgot the feeling, burying it deep down. Or, maybe, she was relearning to love.
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Jack dropped his coat into the rowboat and picked up a shovel as he jumped out. "Guard the boat. Mind the tide. Don't touch my dirt," he told Ragetti and Pintel. With little thought, he grabbed Catalina and marched through the sand, James, Clara, and Elizabeth not far behind.
The five came to a group of grass hills and Elizabeth opened Jack's compass. It spun before settling in a direction but even then it led her in circles. "This doesn't work," she huffed and sat. "And it certainly doesn't show you what you want most."
"Yes, it does. You're sitting on it."
"Beg pardon?"
"Move." He waved her away and then whistled to James, motioning for him to start digging.
With a look of disdain, James did as he told. It took a while to dig as sand poured from the shovel, but eventually, he hit something.
From his spot on a hill, Jack eyed his eyes and slowly rose. The five gathered around the hole and quickly whipped off the remaining sand, heaving it above ground. Using a shovel, Jack broke the lock and opened the box to find it was filled with parchment and letters. But buried underneath it all was a small black chest. All at once, they leaned in, pressing their ears to it, and they heard the muffled beating of a heart.
"It's real," said Elizabeth in awe.
James smirked at Jack. "You actually were telling the truth."
"I do that quite a lot, yet you people are always surprised."
