Chapter Text
The first time Will ever saw Elizabeth, he was only twelve, pulled from the wreckage of the ship that had exploded and left him adrift, barely alive. He remembered the haze of that moment— he had just gained consciousness, his head spinning, his chest tight with fear and exhaustion—but then there she was. A little girl in a fancy dress, standing over him with eyes wide and full of concern. She reached down, brushing his hair from his eyes, her hand soft and steady against his fevered skin.
"I’m watching over you," she had whispered, her voice full of reassurance.
He hadn’t known who she was then, but her words and her touch were enough to make him feel like everything would be okay. He had been too weak to say much—just his name, whispered on a breath as he drifted back into unconsciousness. But in that moment, as her small hand held his, he knew he’d be alright.
Years later, on Isla Cruces, he woke up in a similar haze. His head throbbed from the blow he’d taken, the cut on his forehead stung with every movement, and the deep wounds on his back were a constant, searing pain. But when his eyes fluttered open, all he saw was her—Elizabeth, hovering over him, fretting, her hands cupping his face as if he were the most precious thing in the world.
She was looking at him with so much love that, for a moment, all the pain vanished. The ache in his body was nothing compared to the warmth in his chest as her touch soothed him. He wished, in that moment, that time could stop, that they could stay like this forever—her gaze full of love, her hands on him, and him safe in her care.
And then, on the Flying Dutchman, during the battle of the maelstrom, it had happened again—but this time, it was far worse. He had been dying. His chest torn open, blood pooling around him as Elizabeth cradled him in her arms. She had been begging him to stay, her voice desperate, pleading. "Will, look at me. Look at me." And he did, using every ounce of strength he had left to keep his eyes on her. He had fought so hard to stay with her, to hold onto the love that shone so brightly in her gaze. But in the end, he couldn’t. The darkness had overcome him, his eyes closing as his body gave in to the inevitable.
But then, like before, he woke up. And the first thing he saw was her.
Elizabeth was by his side again, her hand brushing the hair from his forehead with the same tenderness as when they were children. She held his hand in hers, just like before, her voice soft and soothing as she promised him that she was watching over him, that she would take care of him. That he would be alright.
And just like when he was twelve, Will nuzzled into her palm, his cheek brushing against her skin, savoring the warmth and familiarity of her touch. It was a moment of pure connection, of trust and love that went deeper than any words they could share.
From that day forward, every time Will woke up, it was the same. The first thing he saw was Elizabeth, watching over him with that same look of love and adoration in her eyes. The first thing he felt was her arms draped over him, holding him as if she’d never let go again. And the first thing he heard was her voice, speaking softly to him, telling him that he was safe, that everything was alright.
He loved waking up like this. He loved knowing that every time his eyes opened, Elizabeth would be there. She was his constant, his anchor in a life that had been filled with so much turmoil and uncertainty.
“I want to keep waking up like this forever,” Will murmured to her one morning, his voice still rough from sleep but full of warmth and affection as he reached for her, pulling her closer.
Elizabeth smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips. “You will,” she promised, her voice steady and certain, her eyes shining with love. “I’ll always be here, Will. Always.”
They had faced the worst together but in the end, they had found each other. And as long as she was there, watching over him, he knew he would be alright.