Um, I was bored?
Well, the answer is right there in the first movie if you pay attention. So I'm just spelling it out for all y'all what missed it. Meh. Please read and review!

Rated T: The following chapter contains language which some British people may find offensive.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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For a long moment, no one spoke. They all simply stared at Barbossa, disbelief gracing each of their expressions with various levels of shock. Jack the monkey seized the opportunity to leap a few shoulders over until he reached Ragetti. He scrabbled and pried out the surprised man's wooden eye, and promptly leapt away with it.

"Hey!" Ragetti shouted, and pursued the monkey. He managed to grab hold of its tail as it tried to climb away up among the jars hanging from the ceiling. One of the ropes snapped, and a jar of eyeballs in green jelly fell and spilled all over Barbossa.

The old mutineer looked down and regarded his state, calm and collected as ever. Then he looked at his apple. It was dripping with green goo and there was an eyeball stuck on the stem. He couldn't eat that. His gaze betrayed the faintest glare…

For what seemed like a longer moment, no one spoke again. But Tia Dalma quickly broke the silence, "Ah… dat stain won' come out easily, my friend." She took his arm. "You had bettah come wit' me." She led him back up the stairs.

Ragetti finally wrested his wooden eye from the clutches of Jack the monkey. He spit on it, wiped it off a bit, and set it back in his face, blinking it around a bit. "Stupid blighter," he said to the little animal. Jack the monkey only screeched an ugly retort and leapt away after Barbossa.

This shook Will from his entranced staring, and he turned to those remaining in the room and asked the question that was on everyone's mind: "How? How could Barbossa be here? We—" he fumbled for what to say. It was rather an odd situation. "I thought we killed him. How did he do it?"

"Does it have to do with this Tia Dalma woman?" suggested Elizabeth, "How do they know each other?"

"She can't have much to do with it," said Mr. Gibbs, "I tell you there is some kind of dark power at work here… another curse I'd wager…" He stood a while in thought.

"Could he have dragged himself back to the chest and taken another Aztec coin?" asked Will.

"Ah-heh, now tha's highly doubtful," said Pintel.

"Why?" asked Elizabeth.

"Have you ever been undead before, missy?" said Pintel, "It ain't no walk on the beach. He'd die before ever takin' on that curse again."

"But if he didn't take another coin, then how is he still alive? I saw that gunshot wound. It should have been fatal," said Will.

"Perhaps it was Tia Dalma that saved him," said Elizabeth.

"I don' see how she would've worked that out—there weren't nobody else on the island but you an' us," said Pintel.

"Are there any other curses we haven't thought of?" said Mr. Gibbs.

"The world doesn't move on curses, Mr. Gibbs," said Elizabeth, "Have you looked around? This woman has enough herbs and medicines to cure anything."

"You can't cure a fatal gunshot wound…" Will said quietly.

"Aye, and she's got enough evil voodoo hooliganry as well—it's bloody bad luck…" said Mr. Gibbs.

"Well if she wasn't on the island, or if she couldn't get there, then he must have made his way here, somehow," said Elizabeth, "It's the only logical explanation."

"It isn't logical at all," said Will, "Barbossa should be dead. Jack shot him directly to the heart. I watched him die. That man up there…" he motioned up the stairs, "must be an imposter… or a ghost!"

"He didn't look like a ghost to me," said Pintel.

"Ghosts can't eat apples," said Mr. Gibbs.

"Neither can people under the Aztec curse," Will glared.

"He isn't a ghost, and he isn't cursed!" said Elizabeth, "He's a living, breathing body just like any one of you!"

"That's only because he is in all likelihood not the real Barbossa!" said Will.

"Well if it ain't Barbossa then it's a bloody fine resemblance," said Pintel.

"Did Barbossa have a twin brother?" asked Mr. Gibbs.

"Nah," said Pintel, "That must be Barbossa—did you see the way little Jack took after 'im?"

"I tell you it isn't him!" said Will.

"Of course it is, Will," said Elizabeth, "He has the same face, the same voice, and the monkey claims him as master. Who else could it be?"

"I don't know—but I think we should find out," growled Will. His hand strayed to the hilt of his sword.

"Oh come now," said Elizabeth, "Perhaps Tia Dalma, er, well, I mean… Well I'm certain there must be some things that can overcome death if they are strong enough."

"Like what?" said Pintel.

Elizabeth blushed. "Love?" she said.

Will sighed and closed his eyes.

"Love?" said Pintel.

"Yes," said Elizabeth. She couldn't really think of anything else to say.

"Are you tellin' me…" said Mr. Gibbs, "…that our swamp-witch friend here possibly has feelings for the most evil man that ever sullied the sea by sailin' on it? That that was how she revived him?"

Elizabeth faltered. "…Possibly?"

"Heh," Pintel snorted, "Leave it to a woman to come up with that idea. Besides, who could ever love Barbossa?"

"His mother?" quipped Mr. Gibbs.

The two men laughed.

"Barbossa is dead, he must be," said Will, "And that must be another man. It would explain everything."

"Hm, perhaps he did die…" Pintel mused.

Will smirked.

Pintel continued, "…but made a deal with th' devil for another chance at life!"

Will sighed.

"I thought you said he wouldn't take on being cursed again," Elizabeth glared at Pintel.

"Tha's not a curse," said Pintel, "It's just sellin' your soul—there's a difference, you know. And at any rate Barbossa hadn't much to lose on that account!" he gave a guttural chuckle.

"It doesn't matter if there's a difference," said Mr. Gibbs, "Cursin' yourself, sellin' your soul—it's all bad news, and it doesn't bode well." He shivered.

Will sighed in the brief lull that followed, "He didn't take another Aztec coin, he isn't a ghost, he isn't undead, the monkey believes it's really him… and he eats apples." He brought a hand to his temple in frustration, "How did he do it?"

Ragetti, who had appeared to be in deep thought for the entire time, finally spoke up, "Perhaps in 'is last nigrescent moments of awareness 'e was able to delve wiv 'is mind into an astral plane of existence, and from there 'e could have taken a spiritual journey to the ends of time an' space to discover the secret of life, an' return to heal 'is own body using only the powers of 'is newly enlightened mind…"

At this, raucous laughter erupted from the top of the stairway. Ragetti started and moved back up against the wall. Barbossa, now wearing a clean shirt, came tromping down the stairs. He happily held a fresh apple in one hand. "Very imaginative," he said, "but that isn't the way it happened."

"How long have you been there?" said Mr. Gibbs.

"Long enough," said Barbossa.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. She knew he was going to say that.

"Well?" said Will, "how did you do it, Barbossa? How did you survive?"

"Survive? The bullet?" Barbossa looked at Will. "I didn't survive that, boy, don't you know a fatal gunshot wound when you see it?"

"I knew it!" said Will.

"Then it is a curse!" said Mr. Gibbs.

"But you're alive," said Elizabeth, "How? Did Tia Dalma… rescue you somehow?"

"No, that wasn't it." Barbossa took a bite of his apple.

"What kind of curse was it? What did you do to yourself?" said Mr. Gibbs, eager to find out which good luck charms he would have to use to protect himself.

"It wasn't a curse," said Barbossa.

"Were it a deal with the devil?" asked Pintel.

"Mr. Pintel, you know I don't make deals with him," said Barbossa.

Pintel furrowed his brow.

Will glanced at Ragetti.

"Then…it couldn't have been…?" said Ragetti.

"Ha! No, that was a lot of tripe. Nothing like that happened," said Barbossa.

"Then what did happen?" said Will.

"The same thing that happened the last six times I died," Barbossa barked.

Nobody said anything. Barbossa sighed. These people were slow.

"Hell spat me back out," he said.

Will's eyebrows shot up. Elizabeth's mouth fell open. Pintel brought a quizzical finger up to his chin. Ragetti merely looked sheepish.

"Ah!" said Mr. Gibbs. Ever the superstitious one, here was a story he recognized. "Oh of course! Oh if I'd been thinkin' clearly I could've remembered that…"

Barbossa sighed and took another bite of his apple.