Disclaimer: The plot is mine. Everything else isn't.

A/N: Hello, me scabbers! How do you like it so far? Thanks for all of the amazing feedback…it is much appreciated. This chapter will clear up more for all of you….yes, even you, darkdancer. ;-)

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Pirates of the Caribbean: The Winds of Change

Bloody Heroes

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Make sure the moon's out.

He hoped that would prepare Will. But as he sat in the prison, he knew nothing could prepare him for what he was about to say. He lightly pounded the back of his head against the wall he was currently propped against, sitting with his knees bent and his back straight in the corner of his cell. He hated being in enclosed spaces…they reminded him of being inside a coffin. He had seen too many of his comrades inside one of those, and had no desire to be in one anytime soon. Unfortunately, as events were playing out, he very well could find himself in one.

Or worse…

He cussed quietly, angry with himself for being so careless. He had thought he knew the curse's capabilities. He had known its fury, its evil desires along with its ability to wreak havoc on all who upset it. But he had never counted on being singled out by it, and now the curse was upon him; only he could prevent it from spreading onto others, tearing their lives to shreds just like it had started to do to his. How he was going to do it…well, according to him, that was an entirely different problem. He needed to think logically and clearly...

Logic and clarity, Jack mused, grinning Those two became luxuries that a fair friend of rum like me does not have.

He knew, however, there was no denying it. Now it was up to him to save lives and help strangers, time for him to be a hero…

Bloody heroes. Undeniably brave, undoubtedly stupid, and entirely overrated.

He had never counted on being a hero. He had done very few things for others and had the lasting reputation of being an insufferable self-centered and egotistical annoyance to the civilized human race. But then again, he had never counted on being responsible for thousands of people's souls, either. He had once heard a bartender in Tortuga tell him that he was a good man blinded by evil desires. How Jack remembered this was a miracle in itself; he had been so drunk that night that he eventually ended up somehow lying face-up in a ditch, being pecked and prodded by a scourge of chickens and hens on a local farm. He smiled at the memory…Bill had laughed, of course, and told him that he fit in nicely with the livestock…

A jingling of keys tore him from his thoughts. He turned to the right and saw a scruffy looking dog trotting down the stairs, keys in his mouth, tail wagging. He grinned, remembering the last time he had been in that prison and the last time he had been graced with bad luck from that bloody animal. He carefully looked around, and, being quite careful to stay out of the moonlight, he crawled to the front of the cell. Kneeling and frantically reaching through the corroded cell bars towards the dog that was patiently sitting five feet away, Jack pleaded in a voice dripping with honey, "Come here, doggy! I'm all by my onesy, I'm not gonna hurt ye. Why are you looking at me like that? Come here, you rotten, smelly, slimy piece of piranha-eaten filth…"

"His name is Kibbler."

Startled, Jack looked up into the handsomely young face of Will Turner. He grinned, slightly embarrassed at being caught in a desperate act of foolishness that could possibly be very detrimental to his reputation. "Well, at least his name isn't Jack."

Will grinned curiously. "And why would it be?"

"I have the uncanny ability to encourage owners to name their pets in my honor."

Still not certain what Jack was speaking of, he asked, "How are you?"

The pirate stood up and dusted himself off very slowly; Will had the impression that he was evading the question. Finally, when the query was no longer avoidable, Jack suddenly found interest in the sandy, dirty floor and responded in a flat and unemotional tone. "They're dead."

"Who?"

Jack looked up at him and the younger man saw such a whirlwind of emotion that he almost felt the need to avoid Jack's gaze. "My crew." Will's mouth dropped open as he looked into the defeated face of one of the most victorious pirates ever known. Unsure of what to say, Will was relieved when it was Jack who spoke again. "When we fired upon the British Navy, they were less forgiving than we expected."

Will lowered his eyes to the floor, unsure of what to say until he heard himself mumble stupidly yet sincerely, "I'm sorry."

"Me too." It was the first tender thing he had ever heard Jack say. Those two words held such culpability that Will felt his heart tug and his throat tighten. As self-centered as Jack had been rumored to be, he had lost his entire crew. And in the pirate world, when a crew dies, the captain is held responsible. But as swiftly as the emotion came, it left. "You haven't been able to sleep, have you?"

Shocked, Will could only narrow his eyes. How did he know of this?

Jack nodded without the response, his face turning blankly towards the ground. "Neither have I."

"What are you talking about?"

"The curse."

Will coughed huskily to mask his gape and muttered in disbelief, "It's back?"

Jack wore a wistful grin. "It never left." He could see Will's young face contort with both confusion and skepticism. He knew that it was hard for the boy to comprehend so much in such little time. "Maybe this will help." Without notice, he slowly stepped forward and pulled back the arm of his right sleeve. He moved over to the window and stuck his arm in the beam of moonlight that had been spilling into his cell.

He heard Will gasp as he looked to his arm, now basking in the glow of the moon. The flesh had disappeared, leaving nothing there but bare bone.

"The curse is more vindictive than I had imagined," he whispered, carefully studying his arm, rotating it slowly as if in melancholy admiration. He looked back upon Will's utterly shocked face and wrenched his arm from beneath the light, abruptly growing self-conscious. It immediately turned back into flesh. "Its hunger wasn't satisfied with the return of its gold. It wasn't filled with the murder of Barbossa, either. The gods are angry, mate, and they're angry at us."

Will brought a trembling hand to his eyes and rubbed them. "This can't be happening…"

"It is. It's real, as real as it gets. The curse is back, and it's hunting us. It's only a matter of time before it gets you too."

He snapped his head up to look directly at Jack. His eyes grew wide as he croaked, "Elizabeth?"

He shook his head expectantly and waved a hand dismissively. "The curse has no use for her…she's a woman and they tend to be bad luck in the pirating world. It does, however, have use for us."

Will wondered how Jack could so calmly be talking about this. But he forced himself to calm down and responded with as much control as possible, "And what would that be?"

"Revenge."

"Revenge?" Will repeated dumbly. Now his face felt numb….

"Aye. Do you think Barbossa and his crew were the only bloody idiots who spent those golden trinkets? Do you think they were the only ones who used them for pleasure, for ale, for success?" Jack walked closer to Will until they were almost face to face, separated only by the bars of the cell. "Of course not. And it's a fool's folly to think so, as I did."

Will stepped back, eyeing Jack as if he were a stranger. "No…."

"The gods want vengeance, mate. But the curse can't act by its lonesome. It needs a crew…and a ship."

"But who…" he started, and Jack knew that the boy hadn't grasped the enormity of it all yet. But there was time for that, so he offered the struggling Will a half-smile and said, "Barbossa."

"What?" But Will had heard him quite clearly.

Jack looked into the other's eyes and muttered, "He's as dead as the livin' sea."

"But…you shot him. I saw him die! You did too! He can't be alive …" he murmured, shaking his head. "It's impossible…"

"No, it's improbable," Jack corrected in his impetuous tone. "But the curse has a mind of 'er own." Will could only blink in the moments of thick silence that followed. Jack had expected his response and inquired knowingly, "What is it?"

"I've heard that remark before."

A smirk spread across the pirate's face. "Looks as if we've been havin' the same dreams, laddie."

Jack tried not to laugh as Will's mouth dropped open again. "But how-"

"No time," Jack hastily replied, waving his hand, still struggling to suppress a snicker. "Here's the fairy-tale version of it, family-safe. Barbossa's back. So are his half-dead chums. They're working for the gods, helping them to settle the score. They've struck a deal, mate: bestow the curse upon all who have used the tokens for his or her own benefits, and they're free as a seabird from the curse themselves…savvy?"

"But how does this involve us?" Will asked slowly.

Jack sighed loudly and put his hands on his hips, displaying his famous exasperation. "The curse has already found me, and it's a-comin' for you. So then, when we're under it's control, we can help carry out their intentions. The curse knows an enemy when it sees it…and we're the enemy…savvy? It's the old pirate philosophy: if you can't beat 'em, control 'em."

Will swallowed, and Jack knew he didn't catch the joke. Just like his father, Jack mulled, takes life too damn seriously…

"It's going to control us?"

"Aye," he responded airily, now searching the floor for his misplaced sword. He finally found it and picked it up, studying and handling it with the utmost care as if it were a precious jewel. "But it's not in control of me yet. Only when we fall into the hands of Barbossa and his sorry excuse for a motley crew are we at risk of being enslaved to the Aztec gods."

Will shook his head, apparently still dazed and somewhat confused. "I don't understand-"

"I didn't expect you to," he answered gruffly, eyeing the floor to Will's left. "I'll clear up the details later. Now, if you'd be so kind," he nodded downwards.

Will peered down to see the scruffy mutt sitting patiently, the keys still in his mouth. He reached down and took the keys easily, eyeing the tail-wagging dog. He turned the keys and released Jack without conflict. As he smoothed his mustache, adjusted his belt and fixed his hair, he could feel Will's impatient and anxious gaze burn through the top of his head.

Just like his father…

"Jack."

He looked into the eyes of a splitting image of Bootstrap Bill Turner and grunted. He continued to fix his hair and straighten his hat; he had an image to uphold, after all.

"Is Elizabeth safe?"

He paused before he responded. He looked over his best friend's son, saw how much he had matured, noticed his overzealous pride and his unbeatable determination had not faltered in the slightest. After a few seconds, he slowly and cautiously replied.

"Yes."

Will nodded in complete relief, looking down at the floor. "I suppose I'll have to leave her...for her own safety…"

"You're not leaving me in this godforsaken port."

Jack and Will whirled around to their left to see Elizabeth, in her nightgown, hands on her hips, glaring at them angrily.

Jack smiled. "Ahhh. I knew she found me irresistible," he commented, outstretching his hands to Elizabeth.

"Oh, Jack, am I that obvious?" Elizabeth asked seductively, walking slowly forward, batting her eyes. "I tried to hide my emotions," she continued, walking within inches of Jack's face. She raised her hand to play with his locks of hair, smiling softly. Jack found he had a hard time breathing as his smile grew wider. "I do find you irresistible." Seconds passed, but they felt like an eternity to Jack. He stared into her eyes, his confidence swelling. Women just couldn't resist him…

But then, without warning, her grin disappeared along with her seductiveness and her usual crisp response added, "Irresistibly revolting." She turned abruptly from him to face Will, and Jack's self-assurance and smile faded. But he had detected a certain look in her eyes; a look of friendship that went too long unattended.

"I'm coming with you two sorry, would-be conspirators," she said as Will opened his mouth to protest. He merely smiled and nodded, reaching and embracing her, softly kissing her forehead.

Jack cleared his throat and adjusted his hat. "Now that we know who wears the britches in this relationship," he started in his usual drunken-like manner, "we can be on our way."

"And how exactly do you expect to kill half-dead blood-thirsty revenge-seeking pirates?" Elizabeth inquired, throwing back her long cinnamon hair to look at his tanned face and roguish grin. Jack noticed the same friendly look in her eyes, and he was glad.

"Ahh, lass, you forget one thing."

"And what's that?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He smiled as he turned from them, flinging his sword over his shoulder.

"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

~*~

I know some of you might be confused still, but that's my plan. Things will be cleared up next chapter, I promise!

Thanks for all of the reviews…I really appreciate them.