(A short story based on when Elizabeth died briefly during the events of "May the Father of Understanding Guide us" (Pages 14 & 15 if you're interested))
Elizabeth awoke with a start, gasping for breath, and clutching her stomach in pain.
"It's alright, love. Just take it easy" a familiar voice said softly as warm arms wrapped around her. "Come on you lot. Elizabeth's here, and she's awake!" Elizabeth looked at the person who was holding her, and she couldn't believe whom it was. Her vision was incredibly blurred, but she still recognised the familiar figure of Edward Thatch.
"Thatch... How are you here?! I saw you die! I buried you at Nassau!"
"Take it easy, love. Here, this should help" Rackham said warmly as he handed Elizabeth a bottle of rum.
"Jack?! But you're dead too! I watched as you were hung at the gallows! I saw your corpse swinging in a gibbet at Port Royal! How are you two still alive" Elizabeth shouted as she rose to her feet.
"None of us are alive. You're dead" Rackham explained as he rested a warm hand on Elizabeth's shoulder, "And thanks for coming to the old execution, can't say how good it was to see a friendly face."
"I would expect the same" Elizabeth said sadly as she opened the bottle of rum, and downed it. She was battling to come to terms with the fact that she was dead.
"We all battled to understand it when we arrived" Hornigold said softly as he took a seat beside Elizabeth, "While we're all glad to see you, you can't stay."
"Why the bloody hell not?!"
"Because it's not your time, love."
"I'm not leaving you, Thatch. I'm never leaving any of you ever again!" Thatch wrapped his arms around Elizabeth, and kissed her hair, much like a father would.
"You have to, love. Now go! We'll see you again" Thatch said warmly as he wiped a tear from Elizabeth's face.
"You have so much more to live for... So much to see... You havn't even been to the other side of the Ocean... c'mon, stay with us... Stay... Alive..."
The pain had returned, but she pushed through it. She had to fight for the few friends that she had left, she had to push on. She recognised the voice of Damian Butcher; the giant of a man, a fellow Assassin, and one of her few surviving friends. She had come to see him as such a close friend, she had taken to calling him "Ent" just because of how tall he was.
"Ent?"
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