AN: Thank you for the reviews! It really helped and I'm actually a little embarassed.

Thanks to: ichigofan01 and Ima especially!

Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean. They belong to Walt Disney Pictures. Or Disney.

Edit: 1-06-11: I don't think I should continue this fic. It's too close to the original plot, and the summary doesn't really match. Maybe I'll finish this, but I'm going to work on a fic that actually does make sense with the plot. I swear, on pain of death, I will finish this in the future though. Thank you. And sorry; very sorry.

Three Years Later…

Whistling lightly as he walked, Will strolled through the streets of Tortuga. Dodging thrown glasses, moving away from harlots, and even offering a cheery smile to a few drunks, today was a good day. Not only was he paid a surplus amount since he gave Billy, one of his very permanent payers, information on Black Beard; but he also had a job to visit Port Royal again. He couldn't just leave to Port Royal for no reason, suspicious indeed it was. He really wanted to find his lost necklace. Will knew he'd lost it there, either when gathering information, or he dropped it in the Governor's home. He'd prefer the former, but he had an inkling feeling that it was indeed lost in the governor's mansion.

The thought dampened his mood, but he still smiled. He nodded politely to passerby's that just happened to stare at him. The nineteen year old frowned, but moved out of the way when some men from 'Faithful Bride' threw a fat drunk into the pigpen. Even after living here, he still had his morals, and quickly walked off, a frown now quite stuck on his features.

He was donned in a satin blue dress shirt, and a black waistcoat. Over those, was a black coat that reached down to his knees. His black breeches were slightly loose, his leather boots covering the ends of them. His tricorn hat that completed the look was pulled back slightly. His hair was tied in a loose, low ponytail.

On his way, he picked up a few wildflowers growing around the edge of town.

XxX

Deep off the outskirts of town, was an average shack. Trees surrounded it, and its entrance was not seen. Will went around the back of his little home, stopping to put the flowers on a tiny mound, just barely off level with the terrain.

He made his way up the uneven steps, and paused. His door was opened. He pulled a short knife from his belt, and pushed the door open cautiously. He gripped his knife tight, and slowly pulled his pistol from it's home. After a thorough inspection, which could only be thorough, for the shack was made up of only one room, Will concluded that he must've not closed it right. He stalked back to the entrance and closed the wooden door. He noticed a note on the flat of it when it shut. It was an aged paper, with a knife keeping it in place. Pulling it from his door, he read, 'Meet us at the Faithful Bride tomorrow morning at the first sight of dawn. We're left to the door inside. Don't be late,' that was annoying.

He unconsciously tucked the note into his coat pocket. He made his way to a small cot in the corner of the room. He had replaced the old one, it smelled awful, and many things were living inside of it. Pulling his hair loosed, he collapsed onto it. Not bothering to change, he forced his body to shut down.

XxX

At just 0400, Will's eyes snapped open. He slowly sat up and ran a calloused hand through his hair. He stood, in absolutely no hurry at all, and left his shack.

And he really was in no hurry to get there. If his mystery clients were so eager that they broke into his home, then they could wait until he decided to arrive.

He passed the Faithful Bride at least twelve times, the sun almost completely raised now, and Will decided to enter the place. He despised these places. He wouldn't go in unless he absolutely had to.

He almost smirked when he made his way to his left. He saw his clients right away. How could he tell? They wouldn't take their eyes off him, and seemed very pissed. He stopped not two feet from their table. There were only four of them. A tall dark man, another with dreadlocks, and one that was fingering a little spherical bomb. The fourth, Will presumed, was the captain. And what a cliché captain he was. There was a bloody monkey on his shoulder. The 'captain' raised a mug to his lips, downing the drink.

"Yer late," He slammed the cup down. Will scowled, "Well pardon me," sarcasm. He used it often. It was going to kill him one day. Monkey-man, as Will had come to title him with, let out a loud, completely unneeded laugh. "What's yer name?" Will stared suspiciously at him. "Will," "Got yerself a surname?" "Bellamy." Hell, George probably wouldn't even know if he used it. "Barbarossa. Hector Barbarossa," Will twitched. "I don't remember asking," Barbarossa snorted. "Ye have guts boy, but I ain't here fer casualties. I'm in need of yer assistance." Will raised an eyebrow. "And, how much are you willing to pay?" He took a step closer to the table.

Barbarossa quirked an eyebrow, "Don't ye want to know what te task is?" He smirked. "It be mighty long, and probably take a while te complete," Will put a hand on his hip. "Are you quite done?" He asked impatiently. He hadn't eaten that morning; damn himself for not doing so. He had plenty of time to.

Motioning a barmaid to refill his drink, he looked to Will. "Have ye heard of the cursed Aztec gold?" Yeah, he'd heard of it. He nodded to Barbarossa to continue, but Barbarossa lowered his voice, forcing him to take a step closer. "I won' go in te details, but we are in need for you to assist us in finding a piece," Will furrowed his brow. Barbarossa continued, "It would seem that our friend," The word was spit as if he'd drunk piss. "Bootstrap Bill Turner had sent off one of te pieces…" The rest of what Barbarossa said faded from Will's mind. 'Turner? It couldn't be my father. He was a sailor,' He snapped out of his daze at Barbarossa's look. "Um, I'm sorry. What did you say?" Barbarossa eyed him distastefully, before repeating, "Our friend, had sent off one of te pieces. We are currently lookin' for it."

Will felt as if he'd been slapped in the face. His father: William Turner I had sent a piece of gold to his mother and him! Will bit his lip, before asking, "How much are you willing to pay?"

Barbarossa smiled. "A few thousand guineas maybe?" Will smirked. "Alright then, I'll do it." He lied. He wasn't going to give them that medallion. If this 'Bootstrap' really was his father, then he had to have had a good reason to send it off.

Will walked off, now very determined to find something to eat. Breakfast was really important after all.

XxX

He arrived in Port Royal easily. Casually walking off a ship that had just docked, he leisurely strolled down the docks, inhaling the sweet salty scent of the sea. As he walked he passed a few men who looked at him curiously. Will, not exactly comfortable, walked faster until he was well enough in the town. He looked at the almost peaceful town and briefly wondered how he would turn out if he lived here. He kept walking until he was dangerously close to the mansion.

According to the rumors spreading about. A young Captain, James Norri-something was being promoted to the rank of commodore in a few months. Interesting, only, not really. 'I'd probably be gone by then,' He thought. Then a thought struck him. What if he waited until they were gone to look for the medallion? It'd be helpful; he could study the house and see who might have it. 'And a vacation' Yes, albeit not very relaxing, nor comfortable, but he needed time off. And no pirates were allowed to come here. He was able to get into town by luck. Maybe even skill if he needed an ego boost.

AN: The events in COTBP haven't happened yet. About seven moths prior at least.

Edit- /12-13-10/ - I changed the title. It just didn't seem to fit the story. It also gave me an idea for another fic that actually had the title make sense. Thank you, and Sorry for the inconvienence.