"Did you think it would taste like wine, mate?" Jack grinned. His crew stood behind him, eying Barbossa's own lot and fingering their weapons. At the moment they were at an accord. The Fountain of Youth was brimming with enough for all and there was no need for bloodshed. No real need at the moment. For although it was brimming full, the water was only just that. Water.
Jack naturally possessed the answer to that riddle on his charts and a cheeky grin telling Barbossa he'd already found it. Hector carefully balanced his pride against his longing before asking the question.
"What do you know about this that I don't, Jack?"
It earned him another chuckle. "I will gladly divulge that for you, if I were to say, get something of equal worth in return."
"You have yet to drink from the Fountain yourself," chuckled Barbossa. His pistol was out and pointing at Jack. "I'll trade you the opportunity to do so while alive for the answer then."
That was met with a chorus of pistols, cutlasses, and carbines being drawn and aimed at Barbossa and an echo of the same aimed straight back at Jack's crew. Jack turned and waved them all off with a fluttery 'shoo' motion. "No! No bloodshed! Bad crew, put them all away." He gracefully turned to face Barbossa.
"Very well. Since you have nothing of value other than the Pearl which you are clearly not going to give up without aforementioned bloodshed, I'll tell you."
His smile both maddened and alarmed Barbossa. It made a few other members of his crew nervous as well. Ragetti nudged Pintel, leaning in close. "I bloody hate it when he smiles like that," he confided.
"Especially when we're wrong side of it," Pintel grumbled. "I knew we shouldn't've left 'im."
"Again."
Pintel rolled his eyes, though he agreed inwardly.
Jack had pulled the charts out from his coat and unrolled them, making a deliberate show out of it. Ragetti saw Barbossa's knuckles turn white as he tightened the hold on his pistol.
Water flows in reversal
Your desires forfeited
Your wounds unmended
He closed up the charts. Barbossa scowled. "Charming riddle. Does it have a point?"
"A delightfully complex one for you. Seeing as you have nobody to fetch water for other than yourself, the Fountain will continue to dispense that wholesome bilge water you so enjoyed not a moment ago."
"And for you?" Barbossa prompted.
"I have a bonny lass who sits pining away for her swain on some uncharted island, waiting every ten years for a mere glimpse of him. I should think she'll not want to lose her girlish charms in the decades to come."
"Clever," The older captain sneered at Jack. "And the fact you intend to drink of the same source will have no ill effect on the outcome of your noble deed?"
Jack faltered, but only for a moment. "Not if I intended to test it for her upon reaching said island. Shame if it should happen to be tainted by anything on the journey by those who might wish harm to the King."
Hector curled his lip. Jack was clever. Too much by far. And worst of all, Jack knew it. Barbossa waited coldly for him to finish.
"So who is it exactly you'll be fetching for?"
Hector grinned in response and his pistol aimed at another man. A shot rang out, followed by a deafening silence.
Then Ragetti yelled in strangled horror. Dimly, Pintel wondered why, even as he watched the ground rise up to meet him on the way down.
Jack was no longer smiling, though Barbossa didn't get long to enjoy the it for long. He reared back as nails sliced into his face and blocked a punch, slamming his booted foot into Ragetti's middle and knocking the thin man down against the craggy terrain leading toward the Fountain.
"You bloody bastard!" Ragetti choked, hand scrabbling for a loose rock to throw. There was none to be found, all embedded in the ground too deeply. He cried out in unintelligible anger and grief, hurling himself back at Barbossa. Another of the Captain's men blocked him, punching him hard enough to knock him back down against the rocks.
Ragetti gasped at the pain and didn't try attacking again. Barbossa schooled an impassive expression onto his face. Pintel was still breathing and the wound wasn't serious. Not yet, and it wouldn't even get to that point. He was confident this would work.
Hector tossed the goblet at Ragetti's feet. "Get the water," he ordered. All Ragetti could seem to do was stare at Pintel, who's blood was in the sand. The wounded pirate stirred, weakly trying lift his hand to put over the gaping hole.
Jack was no longer looking at Barbossa. Wordlessly, his boasting done, he reached out a hand and took the flask from Gibbs.
With an exasperated roll of the eyes Barbossa stooped down, pressed the goblet into Ragetti's hand and lifted him up under the arms. "He'll be fine. If ye get the water. Now." Barbossa spelled out. He gave Ragetti a shove toward the Fountain, not ungently.
Ragetti stumbled towards it. He almost lost his footing once or twice, but kept on purposefully until he was standing beside Sparrow. Jack spared him a glance as the shaken man plunged Barbossa's goblet under the Fountain's waters. The water stopped trickling into the basin and suddenly began to bubble up, as though from a spring.
The lanky pirate watched mutely, tear tracks cutting through the grime down one side of his face. As the clear water continued to well up, Jack reached a hand under the man's wrist, lifting both his arm and the filled goblet from the Fountain. "That did it, mate. He'll live," he told Ragetti, with more than a touch of kindness.
Ragetti gazed at him briefly, reassured but no less anxious. He turned back as Jack dipped his own flask in, thinking of Elizabeth. As he made his way across the barren rock, someone in Hector's group moved forward to intercept him, presuming their Captain's orders. Ragetti's pistol flashed out in a bare instant more than ready to drop any man in his way.
"Let him pass," Barbossa snapped and the pirate stepped down, raising his hands passively. Ragetti noticed Barbossa's pistol was out as well, covering him from further interruption as he knelt next to Pintel. But there was no mistaking that glint in Barbossa's eye. The man expected to taste the water next.
Blood washed away from the wound as he poured the water. Though part of him wanted to dump it over Pintel's injury entirely just to show Barbossa what he thought, it would only goad Barbossa into shooting one of them again. Ragetti made no contest when Barbossa plucked the goblet from his numb fingers.
Pintel coughed and began to sit up, painfully. "Why the bloody hell is it always me?" he growled, touching his still-tender side. Ragetti just stared forward, blankly. Pintel frowned at him. "Rags?"
His friend ignored him, turning his head to watch Barbossa drink deep. The lines receded from his face and from around his eyes. His skin filled with color. Hector looked well. For the first time in a decade, Hector Barbossa looked truly well, and whole, rather than simply resurrected. He turned to smirk at Jack, who'd yet to taste of his prize.
"So Jack, it appears we both find what we be lookin' for--"
A gunshot rang out.
Hector staggered. His hand went unbelievingly to his chest. True to the water's powers, the hole closed up upon itself, though it was not a pleasant sensation. He turned around as Ragetti lowered his pistol, glowering. A tense silence passed between everyone.
"Feel better?" Barbossa asked, dryly.
Ragetti glared at him and then nodded, defiantly. Pintel grabbed his arm, hissing his name. He stilled as Hector approached them, kneeling down until they were level. He gripped the scrawny gunner's arm with bruising force. Ragetti barely tried pulling away, expecting punishment but too reckless and hurt to care.
"Master Pintel be fine," he said, lowly. "There was no call for that display."
"There was every call for it," Ragetti spat, though shaken. "That's not 'alf of what it felt like to me when you shot him. Again."
"Ragetti," Pintel warned. "Stow it!"
He went ignored. Barbossa broke eye contact first and stood, having come to an apparent decision. "I think you'll not be coming aboard my ship again, gentlemen."
"I don't want them," Jack said, idly shaking the flask to hear the water inside.
"Then they can stay on the island or they can swim. Either works fine," Barbossa dismissed. He handed the goblet to another man who took a few drops in his mouth before passing it on. He glanced at Ragetti for a reaction. Ragetti refused look at him.
Something like regret passed over Hector's face, but then it hardened. He made a sharp motion to the remainder of his crew to withdraw and the ones who'd drunk their share ran toward the boats.
Jack watched Ragetti and Pintel, the former helping the latter stand up and then bowing his head as though waiting for a scolding. None came of course. Pintel looked at him, shook his head, and spat in Barbossa's direction. The man fortunately had his back turned to them, overseeing his men.
Captain Jack sighed. "Master Gibbs."
"Aye, sir."
"Do we have need of an extra pair of arms and mouths to feed aboard the ship that is not my Pearl and significantly smaller?"
Gibbs thought about it for a moment. "If the Captain should want to regain the Pearl, extra help with the cannons might be called for."
Jack turned to the two stranded men with a grin. "Welcome aboard . . . again."