Oh hoh hoh oh hoh HOH!! THIS IS CRAZY!! I AM ACTUALLY GOING TO FINISH A STORY!! No more plot twists, no more epic curveballs of doom, just a nice ending to wrap everything up all pretty and clean. Of course, I'm actually going to have to write the ending. Which will be fun. And what am I going to do when my pirate fix can no longer be satisfied by this epic nonsense?

Sigh.

Ah well. Here's your chapter.


Aztec gold.

Barbossa wanted him to find Aztec gold. Cursed Aztec gold. Hidden on an unfindable island.

How was he supposed to do that?!

Barbossa had explained everything. He'd first heard the rumour in Tortuga, before shipping out with Wilton. He'd been looking for it ever since. The cursed treasure of Cortez. 882 identical gold pieces, enchanted by heathen gods to render any man who took but one immortal. Which seemed like a silly way to curse someone, but you never know with the heathen gods. They're a strange lot, to be sure.

They could save Bill. Not only save him, but render him; both of them; immortal.

It seemed almost too good to be true.

Which was probably why they were hidden on an ISLAND THAT COULDN'T BE FOUND.

"BLOODY HELL!" Ignoring the spike of pain as he slammed his fist against the cabin wall, Jack flopped down onto the comfortable, familiar bed that had been his for almost four years. "How am I supposed to find something that's impossible to find?! How do you DO that?!"

Feeling the tears prickling at the edges of his eyes, he squeezed them shut and let himself fall backwards onto the soft pillows.

Bill was going to die, and it was all his fault. He let Bill get hurt; not only that, he made it worse. And for what? His stupid teenage libido? Bill was going to die because he was horny. How could he ever forgive himself? How could anyone?

"Please…" He found himself whispering, not entirely sure who he was even talking to. God, maybe. The world. "Please… help me find the island. Give me a way to find it."

"Please…"

Something hit him square in the forehead.

"Ow…" He grabbed the roughly square object from where it had come to rest on the pillow, sitting up in the bed. "What the hell…?"

It was a little box, just a little bigger than the palm of his young hand. It was made of something smooth and black that reminded him of nothing more than the ocean depths at midnight. It was trimmed in silver, like moonlit waves, and caped with a dome of pure Caribbean blue.

It was beautiful.

Carefully, with reverent hands, he flipped it open. It appeared to be a compass, although it didn't seem to be pointing North. In fact, it seemed a little indecisive, flickering between somewhere to the southwest and the general direction of the infirmary.

It was a strange piece of clockwork, to be sure, but… Somehow, Jack knew it was exactly what he needed.

Unheard, somewhere just this side of the sky, a woman whispered.

"Ah, Jack, if only ye had wished de right wish…"