In Captain Turner's opinion, it could, by a stretch, be called a hobby by now, trying to find the Fountain of Youth. Three years and counting, he and Jack had followed even the most weakest of leads after the charts had proven to be worthless at best.
Here, in Florida, in the swamps tangled with mangrove trees, Will began to think hauling Jack up every now and then a hobby too. At least it was wet around here. And it took Will's mind off of the more depressing issues, like constantly facing death, so that was a plus.
And on top of that, the flow of curses coming from Jack when he fell flat on his forehead certainly counted for some prime entertainment.
In all honesty, Will regarded the Fountain a wild goose chase, but somehow Jack always managed to talk him into another excurse, and quietly, Will savoured every moment he could spend with his partner.
Another endless bunch of roots, and Will turned to propose they'd give up for the day, (the heart being carved out did nothing for the short of breath, honestly,) but froze still, whirling around to see what Jack was pointing to: A clearance. With clear water fountain bubbling happily in the midst of the darkening swamp, glowing in its humble beauty.
It was nothing like the rumours.
With trembling legs, and another flat-faced landing, they reached the pure water, faces bright with anticipatory smiles; If this could be it…
Jack strode, miraculously to the fountain, kneeling down and cupping his hand.
He took a sip, his eyes brightening, and with a tremble of his hand, he gingerly sliced his hand open with a dagger.
It closed in front of their eyes.
…Well… Surely they'll find a hobby just as vigorous as this one…