Tortuga; where all my troubles began, and now would hopefully end.

We anchored about 900 yards from the port itself. Me and Davy leant on the rails and looked around the bay.

"You ready?" I sighed.

"I was waiting for you," he said uneasily.

I smirked and we and a few crew (including that scary shark dude) went down to the jolly boat and headed for shore.

Davy sat at the back of the boat squirming and muttering to himself.

"You don't have to come. I can swim if you want," I asked as I patted his shoulder.

"Won't that seem a little strange?" he asked, "A girl swimming out from open waters into a port?"

"Have you ever been to Tortuga before?" I enquired.

"Not changed then," he laughed coldly.

The boat hit the shore and everyone bar Davy stumbled onto the beach.

"Coming?" I asked

"I'd rather not. Bad memories, crap life, you know. The usual emotional scarring that kinda got me into this mess," he said.

"Meh," I shrugged, "Suit yourself," and I ran up the beach towards the port.

Many of the crew followed but that weird shark guy had some "connection" with Davy (gaaaaaay) and so he took Davy back to the ship.

As per usual with us pirate folk, we headed for the nearest pub we could find. I head butted the door and down 3 gallons ASAP.

I sat down at a table at the back of the room. And pretty soon someone had joined me. I lifted my head to see what they looked like.

"Jack! I haven't seen you since chapter 8!" I cried, "How'd you get here?"

"It's a funny thing, rum," he said, "You never know where you'll end up until you're actually conscious again!" and he collapsed in a heap on the floor.

There's stories like those that need no other explanation than a drunken stumble...

stumble?

coma, then. But the principle is still there.

A few hours later, when Jack hadn't moved a muscle, I thought it was only right to take him back to where-ever he was.

I left his body unguarded for a while whilst I went outside to look for his ship.

Huzzah, there it was.

I went back inside to find he was gone. I asked around but all I got were a few slaps in the face, and that was just the men!

I wandered back outside again and appeared to be hit on the head rather feebly. I tuned around to find Gibbs holding a bludgeon and looking rather uncomfortable.

"Why do you people never ask?" I asked.

"You might refuse," he replied.

"Well hitting me over the head won't exactly help," I said.

"But when you wake up, you're already out at sea and can't exactly do anything except go along with it..."

"Even if that did make sense, why the hell did you hit me over the head?"

Gibbs pointed behind me, I turned around and he hit me over the head again.

"FOR PETE'S SAKE!!!!" I yelled, "STOP DOING THAT!!!"