Another chapter. Hooray! This one was eight pages long. As always, feedback is appreciated.

Captain Jack Sparrow was accustomed to raging headaches. Headaches from getting slapped in the face, headaches from getting whacked upside the head with an oar, and headaches from plain old hangovers. But this one was extremely wicked, more severe than anything he'd felt in quite a long time. Even worse, he had to stand out in the bright, scorching sun and gather a new crew. Jack tipped his hat forward, trying to block the light from his sore eyes.

Some of the crew that had been onboard the pearl when Jack had gotten it back from Barbossa had been too loyal to him. When Jack had finally killed his feather-hatted foe, he'd decided to drop the man's followers off at the nearest port and collect a new crew. Jack had kept his old favorites of course, Gibbs, Marty, Cotton...even Cotton's parrot. Pintel and Ragetti, idiots though they were, were still able hands. Two more sailors he'd also kept that he'd seen a few times before; Murtogg and Mulroy. They were former soldiers of the royal navy of course, but they had turned pirate in the last moments of the final battle.

Though sometimes they proved to be more of an advantage for Jack when they were on the opposite side, fighting against him… They were easy to distract in most cases, like when one was interested in commandeering a ship….or stealing a beating heart in a locked box. Jack put two fingers to his temple and pressed hard, the memories annoying him.

"Alright then!" He bellowed, ignoring the throb in his brain. The sailors lining the dock straightened up. Gibbs unrolled a scrap of paper and looked over the names of their current crew as they walked down the row. Jack stopped in front of a large man with beefy arms and a mean looking face.

"I don't even need to know your name, you're hired. Welcome aboard."

A wide grin spread across the man's face, revealing a toothy but sincere smile. Jack looked at the lack of teeth and nervously clicked his own before moving on. A young man with light brown hair and chocolate eyes stood waiting, looking proud.

"Ye look mighty proud to be joinin' a pirate ship, lad." Jack told him, looking him up and down. The boy reminded him of the whelp.

"...Aye, I am." He said, seemingly trying out the slang. He wasn't used to it yet, and it sounded strange coming from his lips.

"And why might that be, boy? You look too straight-laced to be gettin' in to this type of thing. Go find yourself a lady."

Jack started to move on, but the kid followed him.

"I had a lady." He said, his eyes darkening. "And a man took her from me."

Jack froze on the spot.

"Not another distressing damsel..." He muttered, before turning to look at the boy. "You don't happen to know a pirate by the name of Will Turner do you? You are awfully similar."

"No, Sir." He replied, his face still dark. He changed the topic back to his lady friend. "The man I'm looking for goes by the name of Rogue Warren."

"Captain Warren? Hmm...never took him to be the abducting' type."

"He's not. He's the murdering type." The boy spat, glaring at Jack.

"Oh," Jack said, his eyebrows rising. He understood now. The lady had been taken from him, body and soul.

"Well, welcome aboard then...Mister..."

"Valentine. Josh Valentine."

Jack's face fell into a deadpan stare.

"Of course. Valentine." He mumbled. "Well you can join me crew, but just know, we aren't going after Warren just for you, you hear? We're in search of greater treasure...If we do happen to come across Rogue's ship, you can scurry aboard and fight him by your onesies, savvy? Because I will not be getting in to it with him again, you can count on that."

Josh beamed at him and spoke a nautical word that sounded utterly wrong coming from his lips once more.

"Savvy."

Shaking his head, Jack moved down the line, acquiring new crew members at a fast pace. He didn't really care who was joining, as long as they could work on a ship and be quiet about the amount of it. He did enjoy playing the fierce captain, though. It was amusing to test the hopefuls with long and confusing speech. Jack came up to the last in line, a too-thin man with a boyish face.

"And you man! How about you? Do you have the courage and fortitude to follow orders and stay true in the face of danger and almost certain death?"

"…..Yes sir?" He replied, his voice a bit too high.

"You don't look or sound it. Are you a Eunuch?"

The man's face contorted in confusion.

"No sir...I'm just young."

Now that Jack thought about it, he did look very young, and was definitely missing a manly physique.

"And how old be you, then?"

"Almost seventeen, Captain."

Jack turned towards Gibbs, who shrugged and scribbled something on his paper.

"I trust you'll work twice as hard to make up for your size and age, then. What be your name?"

The kid widened his eyes in surprise, and stuttered out a response.

"Char—Ch-Charles."

Jack smirked in amusement at the stutters. The kid most likely thought he wasn't going to be accepted, and was shocked at how quickly Jack had admitted him to the crew. It wasn't that uncommon though. He himself had been sailing on ships at the mere age of fourteen. Shaking his head to try and rid himself of even more memories, Jack turned towards Gibbs and grabbed the updated list of crew members. His head was really killing him and he couldn't wait to get underway….and get some rum.

"Welcome aboard then, Charles." Jack said, tucking the list into his jacket and walking away down the dock. He adjusted his hat once again and called out to the line of men. "Gather your possessions, say goodbye to your mates and your family, at noon we put Tortuga to our rudder!"

Christian walked through the field with her siblings. Christopher, her twin brother, walked tall beside her. Sarah and Mary, six and seven years old respectively, took turns running around the skirts of Christian's dress, letting out high-pitched giggles. Little Andrew, the youngest of the family, had grown too tired to walk and she was carrying him on her hip as she'd seen her mother do on numerous occasions.

A little further ahead lay their favorite location in the whole wide world, the rock. Quite an un-imaginative name for it, but it was the most fitting. Just over the hill there was a giant rock, where the Casey family liked to go and watch the sunset. It was a tradition they had been following for quite some time. On the last day of every month, the children would walk through the field across from the house and sit on the rock, watching the clouds turn pink and orange in the sky until the sun had set and the stars came out.

This time it was a bittersweet visit. This would be the last time for Christopher and Christian. They had come of age and would both be going off to school for a few years. Christopher off to learn how to be a man, with math and business, and Christian off to learn to be a lady, with arts and manners. It was also the last time for the younger kids. Walter Casey, father of the five children and the proud owner of a chain of plantations in Barbados, was moving the family to the island to better oversee his work. They were leaving in three days. Christopher and Casey would come separately a few years later, after they had finished with their schooling.

Christopher climbed up on to the rock first and helped Sarah and Mary up after him. Christian was content to stand beside it with Andrew in her arms. The poor thing had fallen asleep.

"I thought that I would miss my mates most…" Christopher said, looking out at the valley below him with sadness. "But it's this."

Christian felt the same. She hugged Andrew close to her and shut her eyes, remembering all the times they'd come down here before. There had been the time when Sarah had fallen down and scraped her knee, she couldn't stop crying. And the time when Mary had gotten too excited and had torn her dress. Mother had been so mad.

"Chrissy, how are you going to find us when we leave? You don't know where our new house is." Sarah said, her eyes widening. Christian looked up at her brother, sharing a look with him before glancing at Sarah.

"I'll be on a ship with a smart captain. He'll be educated in navigation, and he'll know his way around the ocean like the back of his hand. All he will need is the name of the destination and he can find it."

Sarah smiled, comforted at the thought.

The sky overhead started to change colors as the sun began its descent, gold and orange and pink and blue all mixing together to create a masterpiece above them.

"….This might be the prettiest one we've ever seen." Mary said quietly.

The others silently agreed.

Christian woke from her dream by falling flat on her face on the floor of her cabin. She groaned and rolled over, the rocking of the ship upsetting her. As she picked herself up, swaying sleepily, the events from yesterday came crashing down on her. She had been close to Barbados, the ship had gotten torn open on a reef and had started sinking…The Dutchman had appeared, picked up the few people that had gotten on deck in time, and then… they'd had to go gallivanting after another sinking ship near Portugal. Portugal! Almost all the way back to England.

Christian looked down at herself in disappointment. She was freshly (well, as fresh as one could be on a ghost pirate ship) dressed in a pair of brown breeches and a white cotton shirt, the clothing that that the captain had left her yesterday. After William had left and she was able to observe the damages to her dress in privacy, she had settled for wearing the men's clothes, even though it went against everything she'd been taught. She had to admit, they were far more comfortable that the corsets and heavy layers she'd been wearing all her life…Not that she'd ever say that aloud.

Christian stretched and prepared to get back in the hammock, not satisfied with the sudden awakening into reality. She wanted her dream back. Four years away at finishing school had accomplished nothing except make her miss her brothers and sisters. Well, that and she'd also learned to play the piano. Most of the etiquette rules had gone in one ear and out the other. Christian prepared to haul herself back in to the slightly too-high hammock when her body froze up.

"Nooo…Please don't." She whined, already knowing exactly what was happening. Captain Turner hadn't been joking when he'd said that the ship would make herwork. And now that she was up, it apparently meant it was time to get the laboring started.

"No! I didn't know about these conditions when I took the oath, therefore I'm not bound to—"

Christian was pulled by an unknown inhuman force towards the cabin door, her face slamming unceremoniously into the wood. "Alright, alright! Just leave me alone!" She yelled, wrenching herself away from it with a tremendous amount of effort. She yanked the door open and headed for the closest set of stairs. When she reached the top, she was met with the unpleasant sight of men scrubbing the deck, climbing up ropes, and doing who knows what in the early morning light.

"Miss Casey!" Came a voice to her left. Christian turned to see Bootstrap up at the helm. She headed up to meet him.

"Morning." He greeted, looking up and down at her new clothing. "I see you've come prepared. Today you'll be doing some stitching. You know how to sew?" Christian scoffed. The man was asking if she knew how to sew? Of course she did. It was basically a necessity for all women.

"Yes."

Bootstrap didn't notice her mood, or if he did he ignored it. "The captain laid out a few sails over there that need some mending." He said, pointing towards the bow. "The supplies are over there in one of the crates. I forget which; you'll have to search for them."

"Excellent." She deadpanned, looking out over the deck at the bustling sailors. How could they rise so early and get straight to the hard work? Christian felt like she was sleepwalking.

"Listen…" Bootstrap said, leaning forward to whisper to her as Will emerged from the captain's cabin below. "We know you aren't accustomed to work…My son, he knows that this is hard for you. You may think it unfair that you are trapped in these circumstances, but keep in mind that he is trying his best. He wants to help you, he really does. But the Dutchman is always on the move…and now that you've taken the oath to serve, the only way he can assist you is by giving you simple work until your time is up." Christian sighed and nodded. "Please…go easy on him. He's been through enough already." He finished, watching as Will came up the steps to the helm.

"Morning captain." Bootstrap greeted, pretending as if the previous conversation hadn't even happened.

"Morning." Will replied, nodding both to him and to Christian. "I see the ship got you on your feet." He told her, stretching his arms. Christian gave a big fake smile. Bootstrap coughed meaningfully and stepped away from the helm, offering it to his son. He gave her a glance before heading down the stairs, off to do something else. Will grabbed hold of the wheel and looked about the ship, making sure everyone was doing as they should, everything was where it should be.

"Well…I suppose I'll go to mend the sails then…" Christian said, not quite sure if Will was going to continue talking to her or not. When he didn't answer, she headed down the steps and towards the bow. At first it went slowly. She was digging through numerous boxes in search of needles and thread for at least an hour. Then, she took a seat and gathered the enormous canvas about her, wondering where it was best to start. After fumbling with it for a full fifteen minutes, she decided to just go for it. When she finally put the needle to the fabric and started stitching, time seemed to fly by. It didn't feel like work at all. And so it went, every morning she'd get pulled out of bed and brought up on deck to do some ridiculously easy task. Mend the sails, coil up a rope, prepare food in the galley… It was so easy, infact, that she had gotten bored. But she dared not complain, lest Will decide she could move on to harder chores.

Bootstrap wasn't lying when he said The Dutchman was always on the move. They'd gone from shipwreck to shipwreck, not only in the Caribbean but also across the equator and up North in colder areas. A lot of times they traveled underwater, and each time the ship started to dive down it always startled her and she always held her breath. She would never get used to it, it was just too unnatural.

Christian happened to be up on deck one day as they burst out of the water next to a sinking ship close to Africa. She, despite keeping quiet about her boredom, had been 'upgraded' to deck duty, where she was supposed to mop. She didn't see the point of mopping while underwater though, and so she'd been standing at the rail watching the aquatic scenery pass by. As they exploded up out of the depths she began mopping again, pushing the water over to the drain holes. Eight sailors were rescued off the ship, and all of them decided to serve on The Dutchman. They were put to work immediately, unlike she had been, and one of the men was assigned to deck duty with her.

"Where were you headed?" She asked him, her boredom setting in again.

"Barbados." The man replied, dunking his mop into the bucket and smacking it down onto the deck with little care.

"Huh." Christian remarked. It seemed like every ship sailing to Barbados was doomed. "Interesting. What was the purpose of your voyage? If you don't mind me asking…"

"Delivery." The man said, focusing on his swabbing. He was hunched over his mop, scrubbing at a dirty spot that Christian could never get clean.

"I see. Where to?" She asked, dipping her mop into the bucket and beginning to scrub at it as well. She sensed that he was finding her questions too invasive, so she amended. "It's just that I was headed for Barbados too. I find it amusing…or ironic, I suppose, that we were both going there and became shipwrecked."

The man paused in his work and gave her a blank stare. He was obviously a man intent on his work, and opposed to chit-chat. He replied anyway, in a tone that made Christian believe it was to try and satisfy her and keep her quiet.

"Casey's plantations."

Christian gasped and dropped her mop to the floor. "Honestly? My father is the owner! Walter Casey! That's where I was headed! What is it you were delivering? I bet my father is real angry about it not arriving."

The man straightened up and gave her another look. She smiled sheepishly but didn't go back to work. She was honestly curious. She persisted when he didn't reply.

"Come on, what was it? It was probably some new furniture. Mother always likes to re-arrange the sitting roo—"

"You didn't recognize the ship, did you?" The man interrupted, giving her a meaningful look.

"No…why?"

"Missy…that there was The Midnight Fortune…One of the best slavers in the whole seven seas."

Christian stared, not comprehending. She had to ask again.

"A slaver? As in a slave ship?"

"That's what I said, isn't it?"

"Headed to Casey Plantations." She repeated, feeling her stomach drop.

"Are you dim? Yes, that's what I said. We picked up a bunch of slaves and were taking them to Barbados. Apparently we took a few to many, eh?" Another survivor from the slave ship looked over at his mate and started laughing. Christian grimaced and looked over the rail as the mast of The Midnight Fortune disappeared below the surface. How many people had been aboard? It made her sick just thinking about it. She put a hand to her stomach and took a deep breath. Her eyes started to burn.

"Going down!" Called Will, as the ship started to submerge.

"Oh…no." Christian whispered, realizing they'd have to ferry the souls. She didn't know if she could handle it. Handle seeing them. It was too horrific. She ripped her hands away from the rail and abandoned her duties, hurrying towards the stairs. Christian needed to get to her cabin. But as soon she put a foot down on the top step, she felt the familiar inhuman force freeze her in place. The ship was making her go back to work. She would have to witness the souls whether she wanted to or not.

Just another perk of working on The Dutchman.

Thoughts? Please take a minute to review so I can know if you guys are liking it.