Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean belongs to everyone who has staked a legal claim to it. I wrote this fanfiction out of love and inspiration.

A/N: I think the reason it took this long to get the final chapter done was because it was so hard to say goodbye…

"Hrm."

"Yeah. I know."

"It's…"

"Mmm."

"Well…"

"Hrm."

Squirrel and Barbossa stood at the railing, looking down to the vessel floating just a few yards from where the Black Pearl had come to a halt in the open sea. The focus of their attention was a small blue-and-white clipper, a little weather-beaten but otherwise in seemingly perfect condition. At the front, a buxom figurehead was notching an arrow onto a bow as she stared out to the horizon.

"It could be a trap," Barbossa suggested uneasily.

"I doubt it," Squirrel said, though without much certainty. "I think she's pretty much given up on me now that she's been released. Besides, she's got Davy Jones to distract her." She paused, biting her lip. "Still… it's far too much of a coincidence that our old clipper shows up again after all this time."

"It could be a gift, then?"

"She doesn't owe me anything…"

"Well, whatever the case, the old sayin' holds true," Barbossa shrugged. "Never look a gift horse in th' mouth."

"This is Calypso we're talking about, Hector. Since when have any of her so-called 'gifts' done us any good?"

He nodded sagely, and scratched his chin in thought. The monkey, sitting on Squirrel's shoulder, aped the gesture. "Well," he said finally, "Could just be a pleasant coincidence." He caught Squirrel's eye, and knew from her expression exactly what she thought of that. "Well, have ye any way of knowing whether it's not?"

"Sam?" She waved him over, "Get me a line with a grapple." When it was brought it to her, Squirrel tied one end of the line to the Pearl's railing, and hurled the grappling hook as far as she could. It fell about ten feet too short, and splashed harmlessly into the sea.

Barbossa shrugged at her. "It was easy enough t' miss even at that distance."

"Don't patronise me," she teased, turning to smile at him. "I meant to do that."

"Ye aimed t' miss?" He raised a sceptical eyebrow. "Why?"

She looked back; so did he. Barbossa spluttered in surprise, and Squirrel bit her lip in grim confirmation as she beheld it. The grapple was firmly attached to the Artemis' railing, as though Squirrel's throw had been accurate. The little clipper hadn't moved at all from where it was bobbing on the briny marble sea.

"Well," Squirrel shrugged, trying to roll the unease off her shoulders, "She definitely wants me to have it. Maybe she feels she owes me an apology?" She smiled, then turned to Barbossa. "In any case, it's a ship, and you were here when we found it, so I feel it only right to honour my end of the bargain." She reached into the pocket she'd sewed on the inside of her shirt, and pulled out a collection of papers. The monkey on her shoulder started jumping up and down and chattering excitedly, and Barbossa grinned in triumph as he accepted them. He started holding them up to each other, comparing the sizes, trying to find out which pieces fit where, trying to recreate the concentric rings of Sao Feng's map.

Squirrel picked up her crutch, placing it under one arm, and started limping back across the deck. She got about halfway before the monkey scolded, and she heard Barbossa comment in the same tone, "Angel, there be a piece missin'."

"Of course, Hector!" Squirrel made an awkward stump-walk-stump-walk turn until she was half-facing Barbossa again. "The Pearl's the fastest ship in the Caribbean. We'll be hard-pressed keeping up with you… unless you had a reason to wait for us."

Barbossa started grinding his teeth, but managed to turn his irritation to something like grudging respect. "I taught ye too damn well," he grizzled.

She laughed. "Oh, come on, Hector. It's not like you're losing anything by all this."

"'Cept time," Sam commented, as he slid down from the rigging, "An' maybe pride."

"Sam!" She gave him a look.

He shrugged. "What? It's true!" He laughed and dodged Squirrel's playful punch.

Barbossa gave a weary sigh at the antics of the pair of them. "Make fast," he ordered, "And see to it that we don't leave the Artemis behind this time." With the handfuls of papers Squirrel had left him, he retired to his cabin, to try and puzzle out, as best he could.

Squirrel watched him go, the smile slowly fading from her face.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Sam asked, quietly.

But she just shook her head. "To your station, Master Flynn," she said, limping to the stern, to watch as sailors secured the clipper.

It was a fair evening, cool but not cold, with a warm trade wind still bringing some of the day's lingering heat to where it was needed. Squirrel lifted her eyes skyward, to watch the wind as Jack had taught her, while she flipped a card between her fingers.

"Feels the same," she murmured, to no-one but herself. "Hmm."

She turned her attention to the stars, to the shapes in the heavens that pointed the direction to lands beyond the horizon. There, that same constellation there was one she'd seen in Singapore. And that one there was on the horizon when they sailed past Arabia, and that one there was high when they passed the Cape of Storms. The maps may have been laid out flat and filled in by cartographers and conquering kings, but that didn't make the world any less round. There was no end to it, in the same way that there would be no end to the stories. Endings and beginnings were indistinguishable from each other, sometimes. And, occasionally, just the same.

Shifting her weight from her crutch to her leg, a mannerism that made her seem like the parrot restlessly dancing on Cotton's shoulders, Squirrel shuffled the lone card back into the deck absently, letting her thoughts drift. The sound of the sailcloth and the ropes and pulleys was soothing and familiar, as were the waves gently breaking across the prow of the Pearl, and breaking on the beach and shoals off into the distance. The night brought all the sounds in perfect clarity. It was the life she'd grown used to, and could not ever imagine turning her back on. And yet here she was, smiling to herself, and thinking of making an end of it.

Three years, maybe a little more. It was impossible to remember the exact date. But on an evening that felt exactly the same as this, she'd run from her old life, opting to risk life and limb with a man she'd idolised. She'd chosen freedom. Now, tonight, her wings were itching for flight again.

She drew a card at random, looked at it without seeing it, then slipped it back with its brothers and put the whole deck back into the pouch at her belt. But she couldn't keep her hands still; they reached for her amulet, to fiddle with it out of habit. She smiled as she rubbed her thumb around its edges, around and around and around. Her hand went to her ear, to the silver hoops Ana had given her, and traced that endless circle again.

"It never really ends," she murmured, smiling. "Does it? No, not really."

Squirrel looked down at the clipper, moored to the Pearl like a leashed dog to its master. The Artemis had come back - or been sent back, it didn't matter now - and the night was quiet, with a breeze enough to fill the sails and currents that traced their lines all across the globe, and dreams and adventures promised with each new moment.

And she possessed the freedom to chase them.

In a moment of old familiar melancholy, she thought back to all the mistakes she'd made. Planned betrayals, lies and hurtful words, loneliness and bitterness and regret. And yet she had to smile. All those things were but stepping stones to this point; they had helped her grow and made her strong. And she was glad for that, thankful she'd lived to learn and find a balance, not to have been lost to the emotions that had once consumed her or the logic which had choked her.

Squirrel held up her amulet, looking at it in the starlight, then to the full moon which shone above. Round, a silver coin. Round, like the world. Round, like the silver compass etched with 'to help you find your way'. Round, like the stories, where beginnings and ends were the same. She smiled again, tucked her amulet back under the collar of her shirt, then hitched herself onto her crutch and made the awkward journey across the deck, to the captain's cabin. She knocked, no longer afraid to do so, and let herself in.

Barbossa was sitting at his desk, a dark shadow in the candlelight, staring at the map pieces he had. He glanced up at Squirrel as she moved over to stand before him. "Can I help ye, First Mate?" There was bitter irony in his tone as he picked up his goblet of wine and sipped from it.

She had to smile. "I've had my fun," Squirrel said, pulling out the last piece of paper and placing it where it would fit. She leant back to smile at him, at his incredulity, and leant nonchalantly on her crutch. "And wish you all the best for you and your crew, sir."

He looked up at her, amazed. "Angel, ye… Ye're leaving?"

"Aye," she smiled, a little fond and a little sad at the same time. "It feels right." She paused a moment, then added, "I don't think I need to say goodbye. After all, we might meet again." She smiled.

There were so many questions that could be asked, so many things that could be said. But the two of them, who'd danced together, laughed together, mourned together, and were the first to greet each other the night he returned from the eternal cold, knew each other too well to spoil this with unnecessary words.

Barbossa set his wine aside, and smiled slowly. "Aye, that we may, angel. That we may. Though," he grinned, "With that little shoal-skipper? Ye'll be hard-pressed t' keep up with me ship."

"My ship, Hector," Squirrel corrected. "Remember? The Black Pearl belongs to me. You're just taking care of it until I get back."

He chuckled, then tilted his head her, curious. "And when will ye be back?"

"I don't know." She shrugged. "When it's right, I suppose."

"When it's right," he repeated, nodding. "Ah, of course." He looked down at the now-completed copy of the map, then back up to Squirrel. "Are ye sure ye don't want t' stay one more day? D'ye have to leave right now?"

She smiled. "Thankyou for the offer, Hector. But… no. Thankyou, but no. The wind's turned in my favour, and so…" She craned her head back, rolling tension from her shoulders. "I leave the Fountain of Youth to you; I've my own treasure-seeking do."

"And what is it ye're after?"

"I guess I won't know until I find it."

Barbossa rose to his feet, stepping out from behind the desk. "Ye won't be forgotten, angel," he said, taking her hand and kissing the back of it like a proper gentleman. "Ye can be assured of that."

"And I won't forget you," she said, stepping forward into his arms and kissing him gently on the cheek. He blinked, surprised, then smiled fondly, avuncular, at her. She smiled back, then hitched up her crutch under her arm and limped out of the cabin. "Adieu, Captain Barbossa!"

"Adieu, Miss Grey."

She closed the door quietly, and made her limping way across the deck. She got about halfway before she paused again, glancing around. So much of this was familiar, so much of this was home. "I hope I come back soon," she murmured to no-one, to herself, to the Pearl. There was no answer, but then she wasn't expecting one. "Fare thee well."

There was a voice softly singing, a song she'd heard only once or twice since she'd set foot on this ship. And yet the words stirred something in her, just as much as the song of the Pearl, or the song of blood and bone, or the song of Tia and Jones, or the song that bound Elizabeth and William together. But this song, while not one of her own, resonated sure and strong in her blood.

"A stór mo chroí, when the evening's mist over mountain and sea is falling… Won't you turn away from the throng…"

"And maybe you'll hear me calling," Squirrel sang back, as she crossed her way to the railing, and looked down at the sea.

Sam's easy grin shone back at her, brighter than the light of the moon. "So I see yeh did." He took hold of a rope, and motioned for Squirrel to hold onto the line he'd tied for her. Squirrel did so, holding onto her crutch and the rope tighter as she was lowered into the waiting clipper, and to the arms of the Irishman.

"Are we ready to make way, Master Flynn?"

"Aye, aye." He gestured with one hand to indicate the Artemis. "Enough supplies to last us a week, and a little more besides." He grinned. "I took my duties as quartermaster very seriously; neither the Black Pearl nor we will be wanting for anything."

"Except for me, of course. And in that case, it's the Pearl's loss."

"True," Sam nodded, as he sat Squirrel gently down at the tiller. "But my gain." He laid the crutch beside her, and took hold of the lines. "Ready to cast off."

There was a screech, and a bundle of fur scrabbled down the ropes and across to curl itself up in Squirrel's lap. Sam recoiled, first out of surprise, and then out of fear. "What on earth be THAT?!"

Squirrel ran her fingers over the monkey's head fondly. "I'd forgotten you hadn't seen Jack in the moonlight."

"Jack?" Sam stared. "That's Barbossa's pet? What in heaven's name is wrong with it?!"

The monkey gave an admonishing screech at Sam. Squirrel chuckled and explained, "One of the stories. One of the first ones. The curse of the Black Pearl." The monkey cooed as she continued to pet it.

Sam clutched at his heart, though it was hard to tell whether he was being serious or not about the severity of the fright. "Little bastard…"

"Jack, you can't come with us." Squirrel held up the hank of bone and tattered fur that was he monkey. "You have to stay here, with the Pearl. Do you understand? You can't come with me."

The monkey gave a heartbroken coo, and tried to reach out and pat Squirrel's face.

"Oh no, a stór," Sam said warningly. "I know that look. He's not coming with us."

"Of course he's not," Squirrel said, trying to ignore the pleading look in the monkey's eyes. "He's staying here. With the Pearl… We have to… We have…" She gave up trying.

Sam sighed heavily. "Seems like I'm always playing second-fiddle to one Jack or another," he said, with a resigned expression. "If not Sparrow, then this fellow."

"Oh, stop it, Sam," Squirrel said, as the monkey gave a triumphant squeak and scrambled up to curl up on her shoulder. "You know that's not true."

Sam just grunted and gave the monkey a dirty look as he let loose the lines. But once Squirrel started laughing, so did he, and his kiss let her know that all was forgiven.

"Where to, darling of me heart?" He asked, as the Artemis turned out and took the wind in her sails.

Squirrel looked out across the water. The moonlight shone down, lighting a path across the marble sea; the stars pointed the way to everywhere and anywhere. There were shores to be explored, towns to be visited, old friends and new to be sought out. Where to? Where to, indeed. The whole world was unfurled before them. They could go anywhere they wanted. It was only a matter of where first.

Squirrel's stomach growled, suddenly and loudly. Both the monkey and Sam raised an eyebrow at her.

She pressed her lips together in a prim smile. "India," she said, "I think I need a curry… and a box of pada."

The Irishman threw back his head and laughed; she laughed along with him, their laughter rising in accord. The Artemis bore them over the water, under the stars and across the marble moon-spangled sea.

With the wind in her hair, Squirrel felt like she was flying; she could only smile.

A/N: Thankyou for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it.