A/N: Hello everyone :) Well… here it is, another new chapter of Down the Rabbit Hole *cheers*

And not just any new chapter - this is THE chapter! The one you've all been waiting for (I think, I hope) - well… it's the chapter I've been waiting for.

I'm so glad it's done and dusted and yet, even as I write that, I can't help but be a little nervous. Was it written the way I wanted it to be written? Has everything that played out in my head been translated to the screen? Have I done enough? IS THIS HOW I WANTED IT TO BE?! URGH!

I love this chapter; it's probably the one I've been wanting to write the most but it's also the one I've dreaded writing the most - well, apart from the ending… maybe. It is a pivotal moment in my fanfic and I can't help but want it to be perfect - of course, I'm always gonna see little flaws in the things I write (hence my occasional re-edits of chapters) but it is my greatest hope that you will all love this chapter.

Reviews welcome :) I'm gonna start trying to reply to them - I've been super slack in that department… but reading them always makes me smile guys. Thank you all for reading and for your continued support! ENJOY :)

-AshTree13 xoxo

There's some things I should [say]

[But] I [am] too afraid

[It's] just so hard to let you know...

What we [have is] beautiful

I [don't] want to wreck it all

Every day I think about the truth

I wish I was...

Brave enough to love you…

You [strip] away the walls [I've] built

Like no one ever has…

[Are] we… meant to last?

I [think I am]

Brave enough to love you…

I [don't] want to wreck it all

[But] every day I think about [you]…

[And now I know that]

[I'm] brave enough to love you…

- Lindsey Stirling, 'Brave Enough' -

Chapter 25:

It was like the world had become this inescapable blackhole and I was at its centre.

Edwards' words - Let's end this… let's end this… let's end this... - circulated at the forefront of my mind, pulling me further and further into my encroaching despair. I was drowning in it... and I wasn't sure what I should do. Do I fight against the current, against the pull? Do I kick and fight my way back to that distant surface, clawing tooth and nail to get there... screaming all the way? Or do I let it drag me under, steal all of my breath and just let go? Let it take me away to some far off, distant place where reality could not encroach upon my happiest memories and dreams?

What do I do?

I don't know what to do.

All I could do was stare at Edward… and stare and stare and stare.

"Tess?"

Was that Edward's voice? It seemed so far away - muted almost - as if he was speaking to me from beneath the surface of the calm ocean, not a few centimetres away.

"Tess?" he repeats, his filled with concern and confusion. I watch him reach for me, the tips of his fingers dusting against my sleeve. The skin of his hands lightly brush against the inside of my wrist; so cold to the touch that I flinch away, pulling my hands to my chest as my heart pounds.

Oh…? it hurts…? My hands tighten around a fistful of my blouse, as if they are desperately seeking my aching heart as it beats evenly in my chest - to comfort? I don't know. My face twists in confusion and I shake my head, whimpering as I do; and all the while, I don't know why it hurts…

But maybe I do.

Oh, I do.

I know. I know why it hurts.

Let's end this… but why?

"Why does it hurt?" I ask although I'm not sure exactly who I am questioning - myself? Edward? The vast sea? And really, what was the bloody point if I already knew the answer? Maybe I wanted someone else to tell me why, maybe that would make it more real… would it make it more real?

"What hurts?" Edward asks, his voice sounding somewhat frantic; he probably thought I was having a nervous breakdown.

Maybe I was.

No… I definitely was.

But why?

I almost seem to sway on the spot as I look up at him, my lower lip trembling as my nails dig into the palm of my hands, cutting half-moon shapes into the soft skin. Another whimper pulls itself from the back of my throat, the sound almost piercing in the near silent night and startles me out of my private, destructive thoughts, plunging me straight into my crumbling reality. He almost seems to blur, Edward that is, the longer I stare at him and at first, that only seems to confuse my already muddled brain until I realise, somewhat numbly, that its because I'm crying - well not quite crying, but close to leaping off that edge. My heart seems to speed up, fluttering erratically and each breath becomes shorter and shorter as the building tidal wave of panic sets in and strikes me; in that moment the world seems to tilt precariously and it feels as if my feet are no longer grounded to the deck of the Jackdaw, like I'm floating away on the gentle breeze whispering across the ocean.

And I'm falling:

Down.

Down.

Down… into that blackhole once again.

0-0-0-0-0-0

He managed to just catch her as she fell.

His knee hit the deck of the Jackdaw - hard - but he barely felt the pain as he bundled up Tessa's body, protecting her petite frame from the surface of his beloved ship as she crumpled in on herself, cradling her head against his chest as he settled her limp body upon the deck. His heart pounded against his ribcage as he trailed his fingers through her silken locks, his grey-blue studying her frightfully pale face as he struggled to retain his composure as he knew that the sickly pallor to Tessa's skin and the uneven breaths struggling from her parted, ruby lips, was his fault.

It was all his fault.

Why had he said what he had said?

He had tried to tell himself it was because he loved her, and that it was the right thing to do because of his love for her. She was a not a pretty little songbird to cage, no matter how marvellous, how dazzling the cage he would build for her may be; she had to be set free…

But why did that feel like a death sentence?

With a frustrated sigh, he gathers Tessa in his arms and pulls himself upright, stumbling momentarily from the sudden increase of weight on his upper torso. Readjusting his grip, he pulls her body closer and presses a kiss to her forehead, breathing in that familiar scent that always seemed to put his heart and mind at ease; this time though, it only unsettles him further.

What exactly am I doing?

If only he had an answer.

0-0-0-0-0-0

Where am I?

For a moment upon waking, I couldn't tell if I was truly awake or still lost in my empty dreams but as my eyes adjusted to the gloom, it was easy to determine that I was - thankfully - no longer dreaming; then again, was my reality any better?

I pull myself upright with a groan, pushing back the wild mess of curls that fell into my eyes, my fingers becoming stuck in the tangles as I comb them through. For a moment I sit there, untangling my hair and allowing for my befuddled, sleep-riddled brain to try and piece together the events of my seemingly eventful evening; however, the longer I sat there, the more my mind seemed to draw a blank. With I sigh, I glance about the room and slowly blink, allowing for my eyes to adjust to the gloom perpetuating the room - from that alone, I knew that some time had passed since I was last awake; it was easy to recall then, the orange, cloudless sky and the fading sun seen sparkling over a deep blue, wondrous ocean from the deck of rocking ship. And from that, the memories of that man, framed by a dim, orange glow, begin to resurface before I promptly toss them aside, noting the tightening in my chest and the sick feeling in my stomach that arises as Edward once again resurfaces in my thoughts.

I should've expected as much; Edward was never far from my mind.

Shaking my head - as if to dislodge the man from my thoughts - I throw off the heavy duvet that covers both the bed and myself. I didn't have the time nor the energy to waste thinking about him; I had other pressing issues to attend to… like where in God's name was I?

Glancing about the room, the familiar decor jumps out at me, answering that question before the thought can fully form; dark wooden panelling, yards of crimson fabric thrown over low beams, cascading to the floor into puddles of red that bled into the opaque floorboards, exposed everywhere but at the centre of the room, in which a large Persian carpet - in red, of course - was laid out beneath the centrepiece table. That table I knew without sparing it a glance; it held a map of the Western Indies - of both the sea and the lands, uncharted and discovered - as well as rolls of blank parchment, an abundance of maps I had yet to see, ink and quills and a candle which looked as if it had been recently replaced. It was burning as bright as a candle that size could, casting a dim, flickering glow across the shadowed room and in that moment, as the shadows casted by the candles' light pass over my skin, I realise that even though I recognised the surroundings as Edwards' private quarters - the captain's cabin on the Jackdaw - I had yet to extensively investigate the somewhat cramped, cluttered room. Of course, I had been in here before but only to sleep… and more; but those memories were lost in a fever dream, a moment of pure ecstasy.

And the one time I had been left to my own devices, it had been against my will; exploring the countless shelves of books, of ornaments, of strange contraptions and gadgets and trinkets, had been the furthest thing from my mind as a battle had raged from outside the confines of the cabin and I could do nothing but stare blankly at the locked door.

Looking about the room now, I was almost startled by the fact that it was a lot larger than I originally perceived; with all of the clutter and the various pieces of furniture stern about the space, the room had shrunk to about half of its potential size but at the same time, I expected it. This was the place where Edward spent a majority of his time after all; not even his lodgings in Nassau held so many trinkets and treasures and artefacts, and from what I could recall of the mansion in the Great Inagua, even that was sparse in comparison, many of the possessions remnants of its previous owner - although, I had no idea what it looked like now... it had been years, thinking back on it, since I had last set foot on the secluded island.

Recalling the island somewhat fondly, I swing my legs over the edge of the mattress and as I do, my bare toes skim against the cool wood of the cabin floor. The sudden chill forces me to pause in my endeavours - losing my train of thought - because I was certain that earlier I had been wearing my favourite pair of boots… right? I mean, it wasn't like I had been strolling about the deck barefoot. Considering, however, that my memory was one big, giant blank, I couldn't be certain. Upon quickly giving myself a once over, I was relieved to find myself still fully dressed:

My not-so-white white blouse? Check.

Brown, worn leather pants? Check.

Black corseted vest? Check.

My fingers skim across my throat, following the path of a warm silver chain before closing around the ever-present locket that sat against my steadily beating heart: locket? Check.

And, resting carefully against the far right wall - grouped amongst an array of books and loose slips of parchment and maps, strewn across the floor out of laziness or lack of shelf space - were my pair of beloved, well-worn boots.

I'm still in one piece, I conclude, rising to my feet and rushing towards the boots, pulling them on quickly and efficiently lacing the knee-high leather in neat, little loops. So… what happened?

What indeed.

Ugh! This was going to be a lot more difficult than I thought.

Pushing back the tendrils of my hair with a sigh, I straighten my shoulders and place my hands on my hips, surveying the room with lingering curiosity.

I guess I could waste some time in trying to kickstart my fragmented memories, I muse to myself, the heels of my boots clicking against the floorboards as I walk from one end of the room to the next. My fingers ghost over the spines of books - many of which I had not heard of - the blank pages of spare parchment - which fell to the floor when I disturbed them - the polished wood of the furniture - in which clutter upon clutter reigned supreme, graced with the light of a few flickering candles - before I stop before a model ship, my fingers catching the small white sails between my fingertips. But while this experience was intriguing, I had other things to do: like work out exactly what had happened earlier on deck because my befuddled brain had yet to prove itself helpful, no matter how hard I tried to conjure up the memories of past events; I could recall, however meeting Bonnet and Thatch, Edward diving the San Ignacio, Thatch's disappointment with the lack of salvageable medicine and the 'peace' Hornigold had forced him to agree to and... Blushing furiously, I run my index finger over my lower lips as I recall how Edward's had been there hours ago, urging my mouth to open under his and reigniting that familiar fire which had been smouldering since-

Oh no...Don't you dare think about Kingston!

The little voice seemed to scream it at me, though I couldn't help but recall those memories, even if they made my heart ache.

Stupid, stupid me.

"What is wrong with me?" I groan, throwing my face into my hands.

"I would say nothing... but that would be a lie."

Startled, I swear I jump nearly ten feet in the air but soon years of training and natural instinct find my fingers automatically reaching for the nearest potential weapon - in this instance, a dulled quill - as I turn sharply on my heel, preparing to face a potential threat. With my heart hammering in my chest and my arm drawn back in order to strike, I inhale sharply and throw the quill to the floor as my gaze takes in Edward's silhouette, one hand holding open the cabin's door while the other balances a tray laden with what appeared to be a block of cheese, some bread and what I could assume was either alcohol or water in a pewter mug.

"Edward... don't do that!"

"Apologies," the pirate says with a bow of his head and a bewildered smile, "I thought you had heard me knock."

"Well," I say, flustered because I know he probably had and that my lack of hearing was probably due to me being distracted by unnecessary thoughts about him; with a inaudible sigh, I try to fight the pout curling my lips and glance away, folding my arms over my chest, "well... clearly I hadn't."

"Sorry."

"You already said that."

"Well then..." he shrugs helplessly, turning away from me as he quietly but firmly closes the door, "what more do you want from me?"

"Nothing."

Edward sighs, "don't do that, Tessa."

"Do what?" I ask.

"You know what? Never mind."

"God," I exclaim, throwing up my hands, "you're so annoying. Why can't you just finish what you were going to say, or are you to scared to actually talk to me?"

"I'm annoying?" Edward snaps, slamming the tray he held on the nearest available surface with a loud thump, catching the mug before it toppled over from the force, "you're the annoying one, always twisting what I say to suit your own agenda."

"I don't-"

"-and I'm not afraid to talk to you Tessa," Edward interrupts with a sari, "I'm just sick and tired of trying to talk to you when you don't want to listen."

"I don't listen? You don't listen! And it's not like you talk to me anyway! You'd rather run away and avoid me, than actually try to make an attempt to sort out the problem," I scream back, knowing that by this point irrational anger had made my face red and my words dangerous, "and when I do manage to corner you, when I finally get you to listen to me, you change the bloody subject - every time! You're a coward, that's what you are."

"If I'm coward, then so are you!" he roars back, striding towards me in two short, angry strides. He slams his hand against the table, scattering quills and parchment and toppling inkwells, the black ink that had been bottle inside spilling out from the dislodged cork, spreading quickly across the table in an all-consuming war path that Edward all but ignored. He leans over me so that are eyes are level, his face red with barely concealed anger that i'm sure reflected my own perfectly.

"You run away from conflict, afraid that if you say something someone won't like they'll toss you aside," he continues in a low voice, "you say I don't listen, that I run away from our problems and our issues and yet you do the exact same thing... you can't judge someone for their actions when it mimics your own, Tess. That's called being a hypocrite."

"Well... who knew you could be so serious," I say sarcastically, placing both hands on his chest and shoving him back with all of my strength - although the force of it only has him backtracking one or two steps.

"See? You're avoiding the subject right now."

'Yes, ok! I'm only human."

"Really?" Edward drawls, throwing up his arms, "who would've guessed."

"Stop being idiot," I snap.

"You stop being an idiot."

"Argh!" I shout, stamping my feet and fisting my fingers in my hair, tempted to pull out handfuls in my anger although I resist - mostly because common sense tells me that it would be a very bad and very painful idea; "this whole conversation is pointless!"

"Well," Edward says, rolling his eyes and folding his arms over his, "you started it, I only wanted to offer you something to eat and drink - like a gentleman."

"A 'gentleman?'" I ask in disbelief, unable to hold back a sharp, barking laugh, "You're hardly a gentleman, and what do you mean by 'I started it?' I think you meant, you started it."

"Hardly... I meant you."

"Well it was you."

"No," Edward says, shaking his head, "it was you."

"Oh my god, you're so annoying."

"And now, we've come full circle," Edward says, applauding softly with a sarcastic smile, "well done Tess, that got us no where."

"How about instead of sarcasm, you actually say something constructive for once," I suggest with a sweet, incredibly fake smile.

"Ouch, you wound me."

"Now whose avoiding the subject," I accuse, walking up to him and poking him hard in the chest - although the action in itself proves to be a little more painful for me than for him... I really didn't think that - or anything, up to this point - through; the curse of irrational anger combined with bull-headed stubbornness, as my brother would call it.

"...I think we both are," Edward replies eventually and somewhat reluctantly, unable to meet my gaze.

"I think you're right."

"I'm always right."

Our eyes meet... and simultaneously, we burst into uncontrollable fits of laughter, doubling over with our arms wrapped around our stomachs and tears burning our eyes, which only cause us to laugh harder and harder. I don't know how we ended up at that point but, as we wheeze and gasp for air, wiping at the corners of our eyes where tears have gathered and threaten to fall, I know that this was where I would rather be. I hated arguing with Edward; even if it was a common occurrence. It always made me feel so guilty, so regretful... it had been the same with Desmond. Hell, it was the same with my brother and with Rebecca and Lucy and Anne and Mary and anyone I was close with. No one likes confrontation... and yet, it was part of what made us arguably human.

"What are we even fighting about?" Edward asks with a laugh, his face betraying his own confusion and only emphasising my own.

With a giggle, I wipe at my eyes and lean against one of the many bookshelves scattered about the room, shaking my head in almost stunned disbelief, "you know what? I don't even know anymore..."

"Nor do I."

"I just wish we could stop fighting, you know?" I say somewhat wistfully, the thought somewhat familiar, nagging at hidden memories. I reach for the locket at my neck which I knew subconsciously would comfort and relax me, my fingers running against the uneven, decorative surface as I continue, "but I guess it's part of our relationship... the never-ending bickering."

"Well," Edward murmurs, dropping his weight against the same bookshelf as me, his forearm pressing against mine and his head leant back against the smooth, polished wood. He closes his eyes and sighs, running a hand through his short blonde hair as a frown etches itself across his handsome face.

"Edward?"

He opens his eyes and glances over a me, a small smile on his face that was... sad but I could not exactly determine why. The smile made my heart hurt, nudging at a memory that was close but just out of reach - why did it make my head pound, my heart pound, my stomach sink? What was I missing here? I continue to search for that fragment, desperately grasping at tendrils but still getting nothing but blackness and confusion.

While I battle with my mind, Edward reaches over and catches a strand of my hair between his thumb and index finger, curling the strand around his fingers almost thoughtfully. "You'll be happy to know that that's entirely possible," Edward tells me to my utter confusion.

"What's entirely possible?"

"An end to all of our arguing."

"That would be nice," I say jokingly, subconsciously attempting to lighten the oppressive mood, "but I doubt that will ever happen - it's just part of human nature and it's kind of difficult to change ones nature in the blink of an eye... besides, I wouldn't want you to change. You're perfectly imperfect, Edward Kenway."

"Please, we all know I'm perfect, Tess," Edward jokes back, nudging me in the ribs playfully with a small laugh and shake of his head, "but thanks all the same."

"You're welcome."

"But... that's not what I meant."

"No?" I ask, my curiosity piqued but the sick feeling in my stomach only seems to intensify, and while I curiously anticipate what Edward is about to say, a large part of me dreads the words that will come.

"No."

"Well then... what did you meant?"

"... are you hungry?" Edward suddenly asks, pulling himself off the bookshelf and eyeing the platter of food he had left earlier by the cabins' exist, "I'm sure you are, since you fainted and everything out on deck. I have cheese and some bread and... well, that's it but at least it's filling and-"

"Edward," I laugh, grabbing at his sleeve before he could stride off into the distance. He pauses but his eyes still do not meet mine, so I release my hold on his sleeve and grab his face, his stubbled cheeks resting between my palms as I angle his gaze towards me, one of his hands reaching up to touch my own. "Breathe," I tell him, "and tell me what you actually meant... don't change the subject."

"I-"

"Wait," I interrupt, releasing his face as my face burns and horror seeps into my core, "what do you mean by 'fainted out on deck?'"

"I thought you didn't want to change the subject?"

"What do you mean by I fainted Edward?!"

"Do you really not remember?" he asks me curiously, raising a blond eyebrow. At the shake of my head, his grin widens and takes on an almost impish look, "seriously, nothing?"

"Yes, nothing! I remember nothing! Let alone fainting," I say, burying my blushing face in the palms of my hands while I try not to scream aloud, "oh god... did I really faint?"

"Yes."

"Oh god..."

"You had me a little worried, to be honest," Edward admits, the smile slipping from his lips as he grabs my hands and pulls them away from my burning face, his face clouded now by concern, "are you ok? I'm so sorry, Tess..."

"Why are apologising?" I say, still embarrassingly surprised by my apparent actions - no wonder my brain didn't want to remember.

"Because it was my fault."

"I doubt it," I assure him.

"Ok, it wasn't entirely my fault but you... you... really don't remember, do you?" he asks.

"No," I pause, eyeing the visibly nervous pirate before me, "should I?"

Edward pauses, his expression betraying conflicting emotions, "now I'm not sure whether I should tell you or not; you know, at risk that you're going to faint again from the shock."

"We won't know till we try."

"I'd rather not try."

"Edward," I say, nearing the end of my patience which he seemed to acknowledge.

"Ok, ok," he says wearily, holding his hands out before him in the perfect picture of surrender.

"Spill it."

"Spill what?" he asks, confused.

Exasperated, I shake my head and roll my eyes. "It's a figure of speech," I explain, trying to rein in what little patience I had left - the curiosity was killing me; now I could see where the saying 'curiosity killed the cat' stemmed from. "Does this have something to do with what you meant earlier?"

"Well," Edward looks away, scratching his chin as he deliberates, "yes..."

"Then you have to tell me."

"You're not very patient are you?"

"Edward!" I exclaim, finally losing all sensibility, "just bloody tell me."

"I'm going to go after Thatch..." Edward says after a moment, clasping his hands behind his back as he begins to pace the length of the cabin, "after the disappointment of the San Ignacio, I don't trust him to make the best decisions and as reluctant as I am to admit it, Hornigold may have a point with the whole lying low idea."

"Admitting someone else is right, the world must be coming to an end," I tease as I perch myself atop the centre table, narrowly avoiding the spilt ink as I do.

Ignoring my antics, Edward continues to pace, his fingers running along the spines of books perched atop shelves and the smooth, dark wood of his furniture; "before I catch up to Thatch and stop him from doing something we'll later come to regret... we're going to make a quick stop back in Nassau."

"Wouldn't it be best to just continue?" I ask, swinging my legs and fiddling with my locket as I do, "Thatch is more likely to head for one of the colonies... maybe pick a fight with the British or Spanish navy. They tend to avoid the pirate colony, so even if we need supplies we're better off hitting one of the fishing villages or one of the larger cities like Havana."

"We're not stopping in Nassau for supplies."

"Then why go at all."

Edward stops and slowly turns to face him, his face carefully blank and devoid of emotion: "because that's where you'll be getting off."

"Excuse me?" I ask, raising an eyebrow because I was sure that I had heard him wrong.

"You heard me, Tessa."

Apparently, I hadn't.

"No," I say, shaking my head as I do, disbelief beginning to course throughout my body, "no, no, no... I must've heard you wrong. I'll be getting off in Nassau? Why the Hell would I do that?"

"Because I say so," Edward says gruffly.

"That's not a good enough reason, Edward," I say, jumping off the table and striding towards him, grabbing at his sleeve as he attempts to avoid me, "why the hell am I getting off in Nassau?"

"Because I say so."

"Still not a good enough reason," I snarl, slapping him across the chest - hard enough to make him flinch.

"Because Tessa, I'm doing exactly as you said," he says, grabbing my shoulders and almost shaking me in his attempt to make me understand why he was ripping my heart into tiny, minuscule pieces, "I'm ending this - the fighting, the arguing, the loneliness, the sadness, the frustration... this thing we have - we thought we have - this relationship... everything."

"I don't-" I begin.

"Get it through your head," Edward yells suddenly, startling me to the point where I begin to tremble under his harsh, hard gaze, "I'm done. We're done."

"But..." I start but immediately I can't find the words and every time I try, they die in the back of my throat.

"But why?" I eventually whisper.

"Why?" Edward asks, seemingly confused by my question.

"Yes 'why,'" I shout, startling both him and myself at the sudden increase in volume. "Why, Edward? Why are we done? It's a simple fucking question and I need you to give me a simple, fucking answer because I don't... I don't understand what the Hell is happening."

"Isn't this what you wanted?"

Something within snapped at that point. It was almost like I couldn't hold in the pain in any longer; like the delicate balance between of anger, frustration and sadness that was building up bubbled over the surface and I had to get it out before I imploded. And as that anger, that frustration, that deep, overwhelming, mind-numbing sadness grew, I couldn't stop.

No, that's not quite right.

I didn't want to stop.

It propels me forth; unflinchingly, unapologetically and all that was left was the smouldering ruins of my sanity.

"What I wanted?" I ask in disbelief, trembling from the torrent of emotions - mostly anger - coursing throughout my body, "what I wanted?! How is this what I wanted? How, Edward? How?!"

"Jesus, Tess," Edward yells back, my sudden anger only serving to fuel his own, "it is what you wanted. You said so yourself out on deck. You wanted it to end, you wanted it all to stop."

The memories hit me then like a ton of bricks, my own words coming back to me:

I just wish it would all stop, that it would all end.

I just wish it would all stop...

That is would all end...

Yeah... I could kind of see where he could the idea. And yet, even though I now understood why Edward would say it was in my own desires to part from his side, I had yet to comprehend how Edward had come to that conclusion in the first place. Did he really take what I had said - note that my musing were just that, musings and weren't meant for his ears - to heart and come to the conclusion that this... this mess was what I really wanted?

But what had happened after that?

Grasping at the faint, fading memory I could vaguely remember feeling as if I was floating... and then I recall the feeling of plummeting hard and fast...

Down.

Down.

Down… into what felt like blackhole, a never ending nightmare.

Oh god, I though, my cheeks burning. I can see why I forgot: how embarrassing, to have been so overwhelmed that I fainted. How frustrating, how infuriating that even after all this time, Edward and I just kept chasing each other in circles; constantly hurting one another, never truly understanding what the other wanted but desperately trying to keep ourselves in one piece.

Till now.

Was he an idiot?

Clearly he was.

After everything we had been through... I couldn't understand how easily he had come to be believe my murmurings. Had these past years taught him nothing?

Oddly though, I felt calm, collected and slowly - as if I were in a trance - I open my mouth:

"Are. You. An. Idiot?"

I had to ask. I really did.

"Excuse me?"

"Are you an idiot?" I repeat, somehow managing to retain that eerie and vague sense of calm that had settled upon me after relieving my embarrassing episode.

"Of course I'm not an idiot!" He yells; frustrated and clearly out of his finite patience, as if he too could see that this conversation was going both nowhere and everywhere.

"Wrong answer!" I scream back; well, there goes my 'calm.'

Do not cry, do not cry, the little voice tells me but its urging only makes the tear come precariously close to the surface and it takes every ounce of my willpower to not let them fall. I was so sick of crying... so, so, so sick of it but I couldn't help it. I could only hope that if someone else where to wind up in my position, they'd go through the same torrent emotions as I did; after all, this was a never-ending rollercoaster ride and not everyone can handle that - clearly I couldn't.

Still, I blinked back my tears and tried to keep myself together.

No more tears, I tell myself, repeating it like a mantra.

"Isn't that what you wanted, Tess?" he asks, throwing his arms in the air in frustration, "for it all the end?"

And... I snap.

"No, Edward. That's not what I meant, not at all," I say and by this point, I can't do it anymore; I can't hold back the tears. They escape from the corners of my eyes, tracking their way down my cheeks and no matter how many times I brush them away... they just keep on coming and I hated it.

I hated that I was crying - again - I hated that he had to see me like this, I hated that he was the cause of my frustrations and my sadness and my anger and love and just... I hated that he was always at the centre. What could I do? I loved the bloody man in front of me; he was my friend, my confident, the biggest pain in the ass and the reason that I felt like I could actually make it 300 years in the past and can I please point out how amazing that was? I missed hot showers, I missed chocolate... hell, I missed wearing a bra! I missed my friends, my family; the people I love, even the people I hate... but Edward made it all just a little more bearable. I loved him... but he was breaking my heart.

I couldn't do it, I just couldn't continue this anymore but I... I...

I didn't know what I wanted.

All I knew was that I wanted Edward to... no... I just wanted Edward.

"Was that... really not what you wanted?" Edward asks, his tone of voice shifting as doubt begins to encroach.

"No."

"But you said-"

"I say a lot of things Edward, I think and feel a hell of a lot more, but I don't always mean it," I say, angrily brushing away my tears before pressing the heel of my palms against my eyes, willing myself to stop; of course, my brain seems to think that's not possible.

"I thought you meant-"

"I know what you thought. You were wrong."

"Now Tess," Edward says with a forced, weak smile, "we both know that I'm never wrong."

"This time you were."

"Are you sure?"

How had we gotten to this again? I couldn't recall. It always came to this, when we argued; we would argue and bicker and fight and complain and argue again, till we ended up right where we began with no idea how we got there in the first place and no idea exactly what had been solved, if anything had been solved at all. And then Edward would try to crack a joke or I would try to see reason and we'd move on with a laugh, a shake of our heads and the belief that we had managed to solve our problems. But there was always something there in the back of my mind, nagging me, forcing me to turn back and confront the issue because it hadn't been solved; just paused, put on hold until we could be brave enough, strong enough to face our fears, our worries, our insecurities and our anger head on.

We weren't going to continue that cycle.

Not anymore.

I had to face him, had to move past this wall, jump over the hurdle. There was no point in running and if I did, where would I go? I'd just end up running in that same circle, over and over again until I dropped from the exhaustion or gave up and I wasn't going to do either. This misunderstanding, this argument, this... whatever this was, had gone on for to long. It should've been dealt with after Kingston; Edward and I should've sat down and discussed it like normal functioning adults; instead, afraid of what we felt, of what it would mean if we were to confront it, accept it and deal with the consequences and results of our actions, we ran from it for as long as we could.

I couldn't run anymore.

And I knew, with a little bit of nudging, Edward would stop running too.

Steeling my nerves, I raise my chin and meet his stormy gaze, brushing away the lingering tears that cling to my damp, flushed cheeks. In any other situation, I would be relieved to know that my tears had run their course but I was too nervous to congratulate my brain on making that practical decision. I had to be firm but not too firm, serious but not top serious... mostly I had to get Edward to understand my reasoning. If I could manage that, then there should be no problems?

Taking a deep breath, I open my mouth and try to force the words floating about my mind into complete, logical sentences:

"Can we stop with the bad jokes? You were wrong Edward - you're human, that's a possibility - but... so was I. So can you please talk to me like the adult I know you can be?"

"I thought I was acting rather adult."

"With all the yelling we were doing? Please, we've been acting like children."

"Is that so bad?"

"Edward."

"Alright," the pirate says, resigned, "alright, Tessa... we'll talk seriously."

Blinking, it takes a moment for me to realise Edward had agreed and when I do, I find myself at a loss for words. We were making process... and I had no idea how to continue doing so. Damn it.

"Tessa?"

"... You don't call me 'Tess' anymore," I find myself whispering, the thought escaping from my mind before I could stop it.

"What?" Edward asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing."

"Part of talking like adults, Tessa is that we don't hide things from one another," Edward points out with infuriating superiority - infuriating because he was completely correct. If we were to have an 'adult' conversation, we had to be honest with each other... it was one of the hardest things for us to, with all the secrets, all the lies, all the things that we wanted to say but couldn't say because we were afraid. Both of us had agreed to this dance... and it took two to see it through.

"Why don't you call me 'Tess' anymore?" I repeat as a question, folding my arms over my chest as my heart gave a sad, little thump.

"Does it really bother you that much?"

"No-" I start to say but catching his expression, I shut my mouth and nod.

Yes. Yes it did bother me.

It was just another reminder that some sort of rift had opened between us... and I still wasn't sure how we were going to bridge that gap. I wanted to - god, I wanted to close that chasm so bloody much - but did Edward? He was so ready to give up... why? Had he had enough? Had I?

So many questions.

No answers.

I needed answers.

I need Edward to give me answers.

"I..." he trails off with a frown, running a hand through his blond hair with a frustrated huff. I could tell that he was trying to chose his words carefully, that he was considering his stance and my opinions and how he could make them both work - or how he could make them combust.

"I didn't - I don't - think I have the right," he admits with a helpless shrug of his shoulders.

I shake my head: "I don't understand."

"After what I did to you in Kingston, I don't have the right to be so familiar with you."

Oh.

Did he feel... guilty?

That was an obvious question with an obvious answer: yes, yes he did.

The more complicated one was why? Why did he feel guilty?

"Edward," I begin softly, taking a hesitant step towards him. When he didn't flinch or step away, I continued my advance until I was directly before him. His eyes refused to look at me, focusing instead on a spot over my head - which was easy for him, considering he was more than a head taller than me, even in the heeled-boots - but when I reach for his face, cupping his cheeks between the palms of my hands and guiding his face down towards mine, so that our eyes finally met, he allowed me to do so.

"Edward, you didn't do anything I didn't want you to do," I tell him seriously, not an ounce of humour on my face. I needed him to understand, I needed him to know that that was the honest truth, that that was how I felt. "If I could go back and change anything about that night... I wouldn't because to me it is a very important, treasured memory."

"You weren't-"

"I was perfectly in control of my actions. Maybe a little overwhelmed a first but completely agreeable to what followed," I argue back fiercely, fighting through my encroaching embarrassment as the memories of what occurred in that small, cramped room, "so don't... don't say you regret it and don't say you have no right to be so familiar with me. Because if you feel guilty about it, then I have to too and I don't want to. I don't want to think that what happened then was almost a mistake."

"Ok..."

"If anything, you should apologise for not speaking to me after it happened... for months."

"Yeah," Edward sheepishly rubs at the back of his neck, his cheeks slightly red as he looks away, "you make a good point there."

"I know I do."

"Don't let it go to your head," he tells me, reaching over and flicking my forehead.

"I'm not you," I say, pushing away his hands with a frown.

"Now that's just mean."

"I don't have a mean bone in my body."

"Well," Edward flashes me that twisted, impish grin I knew and loved and had missed, melting my heart, "your behaviour today says differently."

"Says you!"

"Yes, says me, says you."

"Now, you're not making any sense," I say exasperated but I hesitate when I catch the furrowed bow marring Edwards' expression, "Edward? What is it?"

"It's nothing... but when you said you wanted it all to end," he pauses, as if he was afraid of the answer I may give if he were to finish the question I knew was coming. "When you said you wanted it all to end," he tries again, steeling his nerves, "did you mean you wanted our relationship to come to end? Did you mean that you wanted to leave? That you were down with all," he gestures about his cabin, to the door, to the world beyond the confines of the Jackdaw that we were only aware of because of the gentle swaying of the ship as it navigated the current, "with all of this?"

"No," I answer softly, honestly, "no... that's not what I meant."

"Then-?"

"I meant I wanted us to stop fighting," I explain, "maybe I should've used different words - actually, I definitely should've worded my intentions better but I didn't want... whatever this is to come to an end, Edward. I just wanted us to be able to have a serious conversation, without it dissolving into an argument which would only make the problem worse and worse until it destroyed us. I don't-"

"I"m sorry," Edward interrupts, bowing his head.

Now, that was a sight to see. Edward bowing to me.

"I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions."

"Can I ask why?" I say.

"What do you mean?"

"Why did you jump to that conclusion?... Do you really want me to go?"

Now I was afraid... afraid to hear what he might say. But I had to hear it.

"No."

"No?"

"No," Edward repeats firmly, "No I don't want you to go."

"Then-"

"When you said you wanted it all to end... it was like you were confirming my worst fears. It was as if you were telling me that you were done, that you couldn't do whatever this is anymore - hell... can we do this? What even are we Tess?"

"I don't know," I tell him honestly.

"Friends? Acquaintances? Lovers?"

"I don't know," I repeat.

"I know what I want us to be," Edward admits, taking a step back as if by standing so close to him I could hear his innermost, private thoughts - clearly he was not ready to share with me what he wanted... not yet.

"Ok."

"But what do you want us to be?"

"I-" that was a good question - what did I want us to be?

"I want us to be honest," I eventually settle upon.

"You're answering the question without actually answering it, you know?"

"...Yes," I reply reluctantly.

"What do you want us to be, Tessa?"

"I want us to be honest," I repeat but with a deep breath, I continue where my thought fell short no matter how much the answer embarrasses me: "and I want us to be... more than just friends."

"Oh."

"Yeah..." God, why did my skin have to go so red when I was embarrassed? Although I loved how fair my skin was, sometimes - like now - it was a huge pain in my ass.

Cue the awkward silence; but something was still bothering me.

"How could you just jump to that conclusion?" I ask.

"Pardon?"

"How could you just automatically reach the conclusion that I was done?"

Ignore the fact that that was one of the first things that popped into your head earlier, I told myself, that you couldn't take it anymore and you just wanted to turn tail and run... yeah, don't mention that.'

"I'm sorry."

"After everything we've been through? How could you think I just wanted to throw it all away?"

"I know-"

"You really are an idiot, Edward," I complain.

"I know," he answers and then suddenly I'm pulled to his chest, Edwards' strong arms wrapping around my petite frame and effectively caging me against his warm, hard body. Surprised, I practically fall into his figure, my hands slamming against his chest as I try to steady myself and also escape but as much as I struggle and complain under my breath, I was quite content in his embrace... it was just as I remembered it - warm, comforting, familiar... home.

Burying his face in my hair, I feel Edward tighten his grip around me - he was squeezing me so tightly that I was almost tempted to joke that he was trying to strangle me, cut off my circulation so we could halt this rather awkward, truthful conversation. But instead, Edward surprises me; again. His voice muffled from where his face was pressed into my hair, I just barely catch his next words: "I know. I'm an idiot. You're completely right."

"Say that again?" I gasp out, pulling away and holding Edward at arms length, my eyes wide with disbelief.

Maybe I had misheard him?

"You were right," Edward repeats.

Nope. I had heard him correctly.

"Pigs will fly tomorrow," I tell him seriously, "and dogs and cats will fall from the sky instead of rain."

"Tess," he says, throwing back his head with a laugh.

He pulls my body back to his and I nestle my face into his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart and breathing in his comforting, familiar scent; a scent that was purely Edward... that smelt of rum and of warmth and gunpowder and the sea... always the sea. "I'm serious," I tell him, glancing up and catching his gaze, my lips curling into an easy, natural smile.

It was nice to be on the same page. So free, so liberating... so natural.

"You're ridiculous," he tells me, cupping my face with one hand and running his coarse thumb affectionately across my cheek.

"Maybe," I agree.

"Maybe," he murmurs.

So what now? I think.

"So... what now?" Edward asks aloud.

I can't help but laugh at how in sync our thoughts currently were. Even after all this time... some part of Edward and I just clicked.

"What?" he asks, confused at my sudden outburst and no doubt curious as to why I was suddenly a giggling mess in his arms.

"I was just... you know what, never mind."

"What happened to being honest?"

"It was nothing," I assure him, wrapping my arms around his waist and sighing as my entire body just seemed to relax in his embrace, "just a simplistic, little thought that has no value whatsoever."

"O...kay?"

Another laugh.

"Stop laughing," Edward complains, pulling away from me. He grabs my cheek between his thumb and forefinger, giving the skin there a sharp tug as he frowns, ignoring my loud cries of pain and complainant, "it's weird."

"It's not weird," I say, although the words come out rather garbled considering the way Edward was pulling my cheek in different directions, occasionally poking the pink flesh instead of pinching it. I catch his hand on the next attempt, squeezing his fingers as I do so I can catch his attention; which I manage to do. "What now?" I repeat.

"You said you wanted this," Edward gestures between the two of us, "to work."

Slowly, I nod.

"In what way?"

I pause, considering the question. He had asked me this earlier and I had skirted around the truth but maybe it was time for me to be honest. If we were to ever move forward, if we were to ever overcome our differences and this huge hurdle that stood between us and - as cliche as it sounds - our happiness, then I had to be honest. I had to tell him how I felt, no matter the consequences. It may seem silly, trivial even to admit, but this was our crossroads and the decisions we made now would effect which road we'd take and whether we'd be on the same path by the end.

I wonder... was I brave enough to face the path alone?

Was I brave enough to face it with him?

Was he?

"You once told me..." I say, recalling memories that I could not forget, no matter how hard I tried but maybe this was the chance to overwrite it with a new one - if it all worked out the way I wanted it to. "You once told me," I continue, "that if we were to ever be more... I'd have to tell you."

"I don't think I said it as nicely as you just did," Edward admits to me with a coy, somewhat apologetic smile.

Tilting back my head, I laugh and rap my knuckles against his chest with a wry smile, "not as nice, no."

"But I do remember."

And so we had come to that moment.

That pivotal point.

What would I do? What would I say?

And then... it just comes out:

"I love you," I whisper.

I don't quite realise what I have said until Edward - in his surprise - pushes me away and holds me at arms length, all traces of his earlier smile gone and complete disbelief on his handsome face. His voice almost seems to shake as speaks to me, his stormy eyes wide as he takes me in:

"You love me?"

He says it like he can't quite believe it, like he's hearing things but we both know what I said and after everything… did he really find it so hard to believe?

I love him... I love him. I love Edward - as much as I had loved Desmond... if not more. I didn't want them back, those precious words and I certainly didn't want to regret them. I love him, I love him and I wanted him to know. Too late to take it back away. Those three little can't be taken back. Not now.

But I don't want to.

"Three words, eight letters," I say softly, tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear as I do, desperate to give myself something to do because the nerves were killing me slowly but more than that, the shock on Edwards' face was making my heart race a mile a minute. Looking up at him, I reach out and trace my fingers along his cheek, trying to calm my racing heart and me befuddled mind.

"I love you."