Davy Jones climbed up the highest cliff on the deserted island he had promised to wait on ten years ago. Calypso was supposed to meet him here before the day ended and Davy had no reason to doubt her promise. He walked to the cliff edge and put his hands on his hips as he stared at the sparkling water. The Flying Dutchman was off in the distance waiting on him, which he found ironic in a way, he was waiting for Calypso and The Flying Dutchman was waiting on him. This made him grin for no real reason, he figured he was so excited to finally be seeing Calypso that life seemed beautiful for the first time in a long time. The sun was just barely rising in the sky giving the day a healthy gold glow, it was the perfect day. Davy put his hand over his eyes and looked across the island but he saw no sign of Calypso just yet.

He folded his arms across his chest, firm on his believe that she was on her way; he would see her soon. As soon as the sun hit direct center in the sky it glared down at him making him sweat, he walked off the cliff edge and sat under the shade of a nearby tree. He pulled the handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped at his face. Heaving a sigh Davy began to grow antsy, Calypso still hadn't made it to the island and he couldn't understand what was keeping her. He sat under the tree until the sun sank from the center of the sky; he then stood and walked onto the cliff again. Another look across the island and water proved to be in vain as Calypso had yet to be present. Doubts began to cloud his mind at Calypso's absence, she had promised to meet him here, she had promised.

Davy watched hopelessly as the day began drawing to a close, he could see the sun as it began its final course into night. Yet she wasn't there, the woman he had given up everything for, life, freedom, family, his home. She had abandoned him, left him here alone to suffer; she was everything to him, without her he could never be complete. Never had Davy been one to openly display his emotions, he never saw the point, but at that moment he lost control. He fell to his knees and bowed his head, in that moment he was lost, tears streamed down his cheeks and he didn't know when they'd stop. Her face kept passing before his eyes and his heart beat in time with every flash he saw of her.

Ten years he had waited, ten years his love for her had grown stronger, what would another ten years without her do to him? He had no way to escape, no way out of feeling his heart crunching, breaking, burning, it hurt worse than anything had in his life. Davy grasped his chest trying to hold back the pain but it only eased it and he still feel his heart breaking under his fingertips. He could never live like this; he could never go on and do all he had promised when the pain tore at every inch of him. There was only one way to make it stop, only one way to make sure he would never feel this way again. He reached into his boot and pulled out a knife; he placed it to his chest and looked up to the heavens as one stray tear glistened down his cheek.

"Calypso," he whispered. Then he pressed the dagger deep into his skin, he began to cut through his chest the pain of the knife through his flesh a welcomed diversion from the pain in his heart. Tiny droplets of blood dripped to the ground forming a crimson pool around his knees. When the blood stopped the dagger fell next, its blade sticking into the ground in front of him. Davy was now holding his heart in his hands, reclaiming it as his own once again. He could no longer feel it breaking; it merely beat in the palm of his hand. He stood up with no emotion on his face, no feeling running through his mind; he no longer felt the pain that was killing him mere moments ago. Davy Jones had finally given up the last thing he had to offer, his heart, and he was now nothing more than a hollow shell of the once great man.