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Gillette and I reached a nearby ship. A ladder was let down for us to use to climb onto this new ship. I struggled aboard and hurried onto the deck to watch the fight. Gillette followed me, took my arm, and started leading me away to the cabins. Frowning, I wrenched my arm away and raised an eyebrow at Gillette, asking, "What are you doing?"

Looking a little taken back at my fervor, Gillette replied, "Why, I'm taking you down to the cabins." I gave Gillette a what-the-hell look. I mean, how in the world did he expect me to go to the cabins when there was a huge battle going on? Still not getting why Gillette was being so stupid, I replied, "I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to watch the fight, of course."

Hesitating, Gillette said, "But Lord Beckett told me to bring you to the cabins." Cutler had ordered that? God, now that was mean. Why in the world would he want me to suffer in the cabins without knowing what was happening to him and the Endeavor? Annoyed, I replied, "Fuck that. I am not going down to the cabins. I will stay here and watch."

Gillette decided to give up, but made one last protest, "But it is for your own good, Miss Cook. Just in case..." I gave Gillette a dirty look as he trailed off. Wanting to know what it was that he had been about to say, I added, "Just in case what?" Gillette hesitated and shrugged slightly as he said, "Just in case something happens. Not like it will or anything, I'm just saying."

Tired of Gillette being so pessimistic, I turned to watch the Endeavor sailing towards the pirate ship. Something wasn't looking quite right. Squinting into the distance, I could see the Flying Dutchman sailing to the right of the Endeavor, pinning it between itself and the pirate ship. Frowning, I looked up at Gillette and asked, "Are they suppose to be doing that?"

Gillette's pale face had blanched and his freckles stood out. He slowly shook his head, "No. No, they're not." An ominous feeling twisted my stomach and I was suddenly very worried. The Endeavor stopped between the Dutchman and the pirate ship. Suddenly, cannons were fired and blasted into the Endeavor from both sides. That meant...the Dutchman was no longer on our side?

I watched in stunned horror as the two large ships blasted holes into the beautifully painted Endeavor. Wood and parts of the ship went firing everywhere, but no cannons were shot and there was no attempt to fight whatsoever. I grabbed Gillette's hand since he was the one standing nearest to me and yelled, "What the hell are they doing? Why aren't they fighting?"

Gillette didn't seem to have an answer for that. His brown eyes were fixed on the Endeavor as well. Without moving his gaze, he replied, "I have no idea. I see that the Dutchman isn't on our side apparently, but god, they should at least shoot their cannons before the whole thing goes down! Jump off, Theo, get off!" Theodore, also known as Groves, was Gillette's best friend.

"Groves?" I asked distractedly. "He'll be fine. He's a lieutenant after all. He'll know what to do. But what about Cutler? Where the hell is he?" I peered out into the distance, but it was much too hard to see anything as we were so far away. Leaning over the edge, I tried to see if I could make out any figures at all. My attempt did me no good.

All any of us could do was watch in horror as suddenly their was a huge explosion and the Endeavor went up in flames. Time seemed to stop for me in that moment. My heart slammed against my ribs as I realized what exactly this meant. I totally lost it. Screaming at the top of my lungs, I tried to jump over the side of the ship. Now I know that was rather silly, but at the time, it made sense. Funny, isn't it? You know, how things make so much sense in the present but seem so stupid later.

Gillette realized what I was doing and leaned forward to grab my waist. He yanked be back into the ship and gave me a confused look, "Miss Cook, what the hell are you doing?" I gave Gillette a look that told him that he was the stupid one in the situation as I shrieked back at him, "I'm going to save Cutler! Let me go!" I tried to slap his hands off me and get away.

"No, Jenna, no," Gillette said firmly, grabbing my hands and pinning them behind my back so I couldn't move. "He went down with the ship. There's no saving him at this point. If you jump in, all you'll do is end up killing yourself. You don't want that, do you?" To be honest, I didn't care anymore. Without Cutler, there was simply no point in going on.

Somehow, I managed to twist out of Gillette's arms and ran to the deck of the ship. I was going to drown myself. If Cutler was dead, I would die too. However, just as I got to the side of the ship, my stomach heaved and I felt dizzy. Instead of jumping off the side of the ship like I had planned, I stumbled forward, grabbed my stomach, and vomited again.

Gillette wrinkled his nose and grabbed my hand. He pulled me away from the mess I had left on the floor and started tugging me away to the cabins, saying, "You are coming with me." At this point, I was too ill and weak to protest. I let Gillette drag me off to the cabins and help me onto the bed. I lay there very stunned and shocked. My mind hadn't wrapped around the news yet.

Gillette walked to the door and paused inside it. Hesitating, he said a quick, "I'm sorry." After that, he ducked out of the door and shut it behind him. I couldn't move, feel, or even think for a good five minutes. All I could do was lay there as if I were dead. Finally, my mind unfroze and I was able to think about what had happened. In my mind, I could see the Endeavor blowing up and going down in a whirl of flames. Cutler had been somewhere in those flames. Had he been burned or hurt badly?

The tears suddenly came. They rolled down my cheeks and pooled all around me. I had never been so sad and helpless before. What would I do without my Cutler? He meant the world to me. He was the one who had held me on my darkest nights, loved me when I needed it the most, and talked to me whenever I needed someone to talk to.

But now, he was gone. Cutler was dead and there was no getting him back. I couldn't believe I had wasted time being mad or yelling at him before. All that seemed like such silly shit now that there was no going back. My vision blurred as the tears continued to poor down my cheeks. What had happened to Cutler? Had he been burned alive?

I sobbed my heart out for about the next hour or so. The tears kept coming incessantly. I just couldn't get them to stop. I couldn't believe that only hours ago, Cutler had been making love to me and telling me that everything would be fine. But it sure as hell hadn't been fine. It was as if Cutler had known deep inside that something had been going to go wrong. I remembered the way he had cried on my shoulder. He wasn't alone; I had also felt like something would go badly wrong. Now that it had, there was no going back.

The trip back to Port Royal seemed to go by in a daze for me. When we reached our destination, Gillette came to fetch me. He held out a hand for me to take. I took it silently and stepped across the cabin and out onto the open deck. Gillette led me to the side of the ship and to the ladder, saying, "Cutler's house belongs to you. He would've wanted you to have it. Go stay there."

Nodding, I climbed down the ladder still in a dreamlike state. As I climbed down, Gillette stopped me and said, "Oh, Miss Cook?" I stopped where I was on the ladder and looked up at him to see what he wanted. Gillette hesitated as if he was unsure if he should be telling me this or not. Finally, he said, "We're going to be looking for the bodies and survivors early tomorrow morning. If you'd like to come along, be here at the dock before sunrise tomorrow morning. You have a right to come if you'd like."

"Thank you," I whispered, trying to decide if I wanted to go along or not. I dropped onto the solid ground and took a few shaky steps across the dock and onto the streets of Port Royal. It was just as I had left it, and yet, it seemed so much emptier. I knew that if I went to the office located in the center of the town that nobody would be there. It would be cold, empty, and dark.

My feet brought me to Cutler's house because I simply had nowhere else to go. I stepped in through the doorway and found it just as we had left it. My eyes wandered around the room and rested on some portrait of Cutler. Tears filled my eyes once more. I ran straight to the bedroom and tugged off my dress. I slipped between the sheets and buried my head in the pillow.

It felt so weird sleeping in Cutler's bed alone. I was used to being held in his arms while we slept or pressing my body up against his for the warmth. I ended up crying myself to sleep, feeling so miserable. My sleep was restless and not very restful. I was up again in the very early morning, far before sunrise. It was still pitch black outside and the whole town seemed to be asleep.

I remembered Gillette's offer from the night before. Partly because I didn't want to stay in Cutler's house alone and partly because I did want to see who had survived, I decided to go and pick up the survivors and bodies with the crew. Yawning, I slipped out of bed and tugged my wrinkled dress on. My face and hair was a mess, but I didn't bother to fix it. There was no one to impress anymore.

Slipping outside the door, I wandered quickly down the dark streets until I reached the docks. Gillette was already there, commanding people left and right. He looked just as tired and upset as I did. His face was again much too pale and his dark eyes were puffy. When he saw me, he smiled slightly and gave me a hug. It felt weird to be hugged by anyone other than Cutler, but the hug was comforting and felt nice, so I went ahead and hugged him back. We were both suffering the effects of this incident.

"I knew you'd show up," Gillette informed me a-matter-of-factly. "Come along into the boat. We're just taking the Mermaid. She's a small ship, but that's all we need since we're not doing any fighting." Gillette leaped over the side of the boat and held out his arms to me. I took his hands and let him lift me up over the side of the little boat. It was a boat, not a ship, since it was so small.

We floated down the shore for a bit. Curious as to what we were doing, I questioned Gillette, "Where are we going? We're sailing down by the shore?" Gillette looked down at me and nodded, "Yes. Some bodies are bound to float ashore. Oi, you there!" Gillette pointed to a few men and then to a figure lying slumped in the water. Heart racing, I peered down at the body.

The men retrieved it and laid him down on the deck. It was certainly not my Cutler. This same process went on for about the next two hours. Every time Gillette called out, I ran to the deck to see who had been found. Unfortunately, it didn't do me much good. It was always some random person floating there that I didn't know. I wanted my Cutler, and yet, he was nowhere to be seen.

Finally, Gillette looked called out that another body had been sighted. This time, I didn't bother going to look. Figuring it was some random person, I huddled in the corner of the ship and watched from a distance as the body was hauled in. This body was wrapped up in an East India Trading Company flag. Two of them men unwrapped the body and flinched at the view.

One of them tapped Gillette on the shoulder and pointed to the body. Gillette turned to look at the body. His eyes widened and he shot a quick glance to see what I was doing. He quickly motioned for the men to throw the bodies with the others, but by now, my curiousity had been piqued and there was no avoiding me. I stood up just as the men were wrapping the body back in the flag.

"What are you doing?" I asked Gillette, trying to look at the body before the men could wrap it up. Unfortunately, I couldn't get a good look at it. Gillette froze and gave me a guilty look, saying, "Nothing! Why?" I have Gillette a look that meant stop-messing-around-me and pointed at the body, asking, "Why are you wrapping it back up? I want to see."

Gillette looked torn. Finally, he motioned to the men to stop wrapping the body back up. Sighing, he turned to me and put his hands on my shoulders, asking, "Wouldn't you like it most not to know what happened to Lord Beckett? Then you can keep thinking that maybe he escaped and is out there alive or something..." Gillette faded off, watching me carefully.

I looked at the body on the deck, still wrapped up in the flag. Looking up at Gillette, I took a shuddering breath and replied, "That's Cutler...isn't it?" Gillette didn't quite answer. He just turned away and said, "You can look if you like, but I don't think you should to be honest. It will only make you upset." I gave Gillette a shut-up look. I was looking regardless of what he said. Deep inside, I was scared of what I would find. But nonetheless, I crept forward and slowly pulled the flag back...