So we have finally reached the end of this. I do hope everyone has enjoyed it and will enjoy the final chapter. I have another Sparrington fic started now, Seraphic, which you should check out. Thanks for reading!

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The storm had cleared long ago, leaving the bright sort of sunshine that only seems to exist after a terrible, miserable spell of weather. The air was fresh, pleasant, yet as soon as the tall, slender figure rushed down to the jail, her lungs filled with the stuffy air of place.

Long, green skirts russled loudly as she went, boots clicking against the floor. A pistol gripped in her hand was the only clue of the fight she had just took part in. Her dark face was serious, desperate. Brown eyes moved over the empty cells she passed until finally she reached the one she had been looking for. The only occupied one.

She could hardly make him out in the shadows. He seemed to be sprawled on the floor. "James," she said boldly, unlocking the door with the keys she held in her other hand. "James, it is I, Elizabeth."

When he didn't reply, she cocked her head slightly. She fumbled with the keys. "It's going to be fine, James. We just sailed in and took out Beckett. You and Jack are going to be fine." A pause. She licked her lips and said as casually as she could, "Where is Jack, by the way?"

Still no reply. She was becoming definately frustrated. Pushing the door open, she stepped in, and bent down to shake James. Her shocked scream shattered the silence.

A few moments later, Will Turner found her cradling the body of the fallen Commodore in her arms, tears in her eyes. She looked up at her husband. "Jack?" she asked, unable to form a true sentence.

"He was hanged this morning," Will said quietly. He watched emotions play over his wife's lovely face. The tears broke free and traced down her tanned cheeks.

"Oh," she muttered bitterly, turning back to the cold man in her arms. Her long hair hung over her face like a veil, and he supposed she was in mourning, not for Norrington, but for the pirate she had adored so much. He felt no pain, however. Jack was gone. Will could be at peace.

She smoothed back the tangled brown hair from Norrington's face and sighed, her slender fingers curling around a pouch on the floor beside him. She looked at it and her eyes narrowed. "A drug," she said softly. "He killed himself." She handed it to Will.

He looked at it for a second before shaking his head. "The pouch is sealed, Elizabeth."