Disclaimer: Except for my foolish fantasizing of owning Jack Sparrow, I own nothing but the plotline. Grrrr….I HATE saying that. Now, where's my rum?

A/N: Ok. So I understand you guys must be confused. But as I said before: I'm kind of making this like the movie. You get a clue here and a clue there, and then all of a sudden you understand. I know you're thinking "Why does Elizabeth get sick every time Barbossa is near?" or "What's this whole deal with the curse?" or "Is Jack Sparrow really under the influence of the curse…can he eat?" I know all of those questions. But just give me time to explain. Much appreciated!

Pirates of the Caribbean

The Opportune Moment

He stood at the wheel, looking over the cerulean waters in a setting sun. He had been standing there for at least four hours, endlessly searching for any sign of Barbossa and his crew. Fortunately, there had been nothing so much as a whisper of Barbossa's name, nothing so much as the mysterious glow of fog that might cover any ship that wanted to avoid being seen.

The crisp wind rustled his russet hair, tickling his face, playing about his neck. He stood with his eyes closed, breathing in the freshly free scent of vastness, hearing the lapsing of the waves, feeling the soft roll of the ship. He felt liberated, carefree, welcomed. The sea was his only home, the waves his only air, the ship his only pride and joy. Without them, he was nothing.

"You're nothing."

Those stinging words resonated in his mind, mercilessly corroding his thoughts. He had been told he was worth absolutely nothing for more years than he could remember….but never had those words hurt more than that night his best friend had said them to him…

"You're nothing."

He stood facing his closest comrade, a merchant by name, a pirate by trade. His brown eyes were downcast, foggy and unresponsive. His arms were on his hips, and Jack noticed his labored breathing despite his clenched jaw. Jack felt an omnipresent guilt accompanied by an unexplainable sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was angered, saddened, fearful and apprehensive all at once, and the influx of emotions caused his mind to spin uncontrollably.

How had it come to this?

"You're not going to fight it, are you?" his friend asked again, still not meeting his gaze.

Jack shook his head. "A fool's folly, mate."

Bootstrap Bill Turner raised his eyes from the deck and looked up into Jack's eyes. "A fool's folly the day I ever thought highly of you, Jack Sparrow."

He felt his heart break. This friend, a brother to him, the only family he had, had lost faith in him. Looking at Bill, Jack could see anger and suppressed compassion dancing across his tanned face. No amount sarcastic jesting or rum could resurrect the now-dead feelings his heart encompassed.

"Whatever happened to the adventurous Jack Sparrow? The one who told me 'Lose life only after you've lived it'? Who taught me everything I know, everything I need to know, to make it in this world? You did. And now you're letting this disgusting excuse for a mutineer, Barbossa, send you onto some forsaken island with nothing but one shot in a pistol."

Alarmed, Jack signaled to Bill to quiet down. Unfortunately, it was too late. Barbossa, along with the crew, had already heard him. With his hands bound he watched hopelessly as the mutinous first-mate approached Bill slowly, his eyes wide with surprise, a smirk rising to his lips. "So, Bootstrap, you have a problem with me, I hear?"

"Don't do anything stupid," he pleaded to Bill, his hands clasped together. He had always been loyal to Jack to the point of stupidity, and he knew that idiocy didn't set well with an insubordinate crew.

"Bloody damn well I do," Bill spat in return to Barbossa's inquiry. "You and your so-called crew are nothing but mutinous scoundrels and traitors to the title of pirate."

"…and that's what I meant by stupid." Jack concluded, his heart sinking. Bill Turner…didn't know when to keep his mouth shut to save his own life…he didn't know when it was necessary to be self-centered and barbaric like the rest.

Horrible pirate.

Damn good man.

"Well, your trust is something we shall have to remedy, isn't it, men?" Barbossa asked the crew who answered with indistinguishable grunts and nodding heads. Jack helplessly watched as a man known as Scrunger took a hold of Bill, tying his hands behind his back with rope. Bill's face was now unmistakably housing the look of a man who was enduring an internal struggle. He wasn't a fool; Bill knew he had gone too far, and he knew he would pay the price for it. Barbossa sneered dangerously and said, "Or maybe the bottom of the sea will remedy it for you…?"

Jack struggled against his makeshift handcuffs, desperately trying to free himself in vain. But Barbossa quickly approached the former captain, drew his sword and pointed it at him threateningly. "That plank is looking awfully lonely, matey. I think it's time for you to walk it."

Jack gulped, ignoring Barbossa's threats and focusing entirely on Bill. He was going to miss him…bloody hell, why did he have to be so stupid? He had a wife and son to look after...loyalty didn't matter when it came to piracy. The only time it mattered was when a pirate had a family he was responsible for. And now, because of Bill's unwavering loyalty, he would end up in Davey Jones' locker.

As if Bill read his mind, he called out over the heads of Barbossa and crew, still being restrained by Scrunger, "Jack, look after my wife and son. Promise me…as a brother."

Jack fought back the knotted sensation in his throat and could only bring himself to nod.

"And how do ye s'pose he'll be able to do that from an island in the middle of the sea?" Barbossa boasted to his men who laughed stupidly.

"He'll find a way. He's Jack Sparrow."

Bill's response drew an immediate smile to Jack's face as he looked gratefully into the eyes of the only family member he had left. He swore, at that moment, facing Bill Turner, that he would look after his wife and son…

The taste of saltwater brought Jack back to the present. Unsure of where the sensation came from he lifted a hand to his face and felt a sticky wetness…a warm sense that he recognized to be tears. Furiously wiping his eyes with the back of his stained white shirt, he scolded himself silently. You bloody mess. You're turning soft, Jack Sparrow.

He inhaled deeply a slow, deliberate breath. There hadn't been a day that passed that he hadn't thought of Bill, but somehow that memory had come to him so freshly and realistically that it had caught him off guard. Rumor had it that Jack Sparrow never cried in his life. But, then again, rumors were just that: rumors. Figments of peoples' imaginations, contrived and twisted into some ethereal truth. The honest certainty was that Jack Sparrow had cried only twice since he was old enough to remember. Once was when he had heard in Tortuga what Barbossa had done to Bill.

And the second had been just then.

"Jack?"

He turned away from the distant horizon to look upon Will Turner. Standing with his hands on his hips, squinting up at him and shielding his eyes from the blinding sunlight, Jack could not help but smile. He looked exactly like Bill; for heaven's sake, he stood exactly like him too. Despite the uncanny resemblance, Jack knew there were distinct differences. The most obvious one was that Will was less prone to adventures than his father had been. But Jack knew that would change…

"Is Elizabeth going to be alright?"

He rolled his eyes obviously in exasperation. "For all of the gold and riches in the world, boy, would you stop asking about her? Damn annoying, really."

Expecting that answer, Will ignored it. "She doesn't look right," he added, studying Jack's face. If he hadn't been mistaken, he thought he had seen a look of anxiety flicker across the pirate's expression…but it disappeared too quickly for him to be sure.

"Of course she doesn't look right," he said glibly turning back to the wheel. "She can't stand not being with me. It's a tough job, turning down women, it really is…but it's a job in need of doing."

He heard Will sigh and then reply, "Well how about doing your job and giving me some explanations."

He paused. Somehow he felt that it was not the time for another sardonic comment. "What explanations do you fancy?"

"The curse-"

"Bloody hell, I knew I shouldn't have asked you that," Jack said, slapping his head with a jeweled hand. "I can't give you information, mate," he continued, turning to look at Will, "until I know my theories prove as right as the wind."

A heavy pause filled the air, and somehow, through a pirate's intuition or otherwise, Jack knew what Will wanted to talk about.

"Your father was a terrible a pirate."

From his peripheral vision, Jack saw Will's mouth fall open. "What? But you said-"

"Mate, if you haven't learned by now, then you're embarrassingly thick. I'm a PIRATE. This means I tend to say things that aren't true." Will, still taken aback, crossed his arms and waited for Jack to continue. "To be a good pirate, you need no connections. No lass at home, no baby in a bonnet, no conscience, no selflessness. It's a cutthroat world. Kill or be killed. Your father didn't see it that way. Everything to him had to be fair, loyal, just….what have you. His conscience prevented him from becoming one of the best pirates these seas had ever seen. The absence of selfishness clouded his mind; he always put others first. He put me first…he stood up for me when I was being stranded…"

Will was shocked to see a look of despair sweep over Jack's tanned face. "That's why he's at the bottom of the ocean. Because of me."

Will knew he wasn't meant to hear that last sentence. He knew Jack meant to keep it within the confines of his mind, within his heart as it saturated in guilt. Jack felt responsible for his father's death, and in his own way, he was making it up to his loyal friend by looking after his son. A wave of warm gratitude washed over Will; it appeared that Jack had more to him than women and rum.

As Will opened his mouth to ask him where they were going, the awkward silence that had once ensued was broken by a shrill cry…a cry that ripped through Jack's mind. He knew that cry…only a pirate would know that cry…a pirate who had been mutinied against…

He turned to the starboard side and saw a ship, one of the biggest he had ever seen, heading straight towards them, slicing through the waves as if they were nothing but air. The wind suddenly picked up speed, and Jack looked over to see the approaching ship's charcoal black sails fill with speed. High above the rigging snapped the Jolly Roger, jovially waving in mockery. Only one man could be on that ship…

"Barbossa," Jack mumbled gravely.

He turned to Will, whose eyes were wide with surprise. "Get Elizabeth, make sure she's alright. Tend to the rigging, mast the sails. We're going to need to outrun them. We can't fight them by our lonesome…we'll never win."

"We can't outrun them!" Will protested as he ran to the side of the ship, gazing in alarm upon the advancing ship. "They've gained too much on us." As he looked at the ship, he saw the crew hanging by the rigging, swords drawn, teeth barred. They were chanting eerily, barely audible over the splashing waves and the whirling wind. His heart pounded in his chest as he realized what was about to happen; they were about to be boarded. "We stay and fight!" he concluded bravely, drawing his sword.

"Have I not reminded you enough not to do anything stupid?"

"What?"

"Refusing to outrun fifty undead, angry, and potentially lusty pirates is considered an abomination in the face of logic," Jack complained in a pleading voice.

"You haven't got one ounce of logic left in you, Jack Sparrow," came a voice from behind both of them. They both turned to see Elizabeth, wobbly walking towards them, her hand squeezing the rail rightly probably to prevent herself from collapsing. Jack took notice of her sickly pale appearance and her blood shot eyes. But, trying desperately not to alarm either companion, he asked, "Shouldn't you be spewing up your breakfast somewhere?"

Elizabeth, in no mood to argue, only said with finality, "We're staying and fighting." Will rushed over to her aid and held onto her, kissing her forehead softly and positioning himself next to her in agreement.

"Lest I remind you who the captain of this ship is?" he asked annoyed, placing his hands upon his hips.

"No need to," shot Elizabeth. "But unless you want to end up on another island because of mutiny, I suggest you listen to what Will and I have to say."

Pouting like a child, Jack grumbled, "Gibbs was right…women are bloody bad luck…especially ones who talk." He shot a nasty glare at Elizabeth. "Fine. You two have a swell time fending off dead pirates by your onesies." With that, he hastily walked towards his quarters, drawing his sword.

"Where do you think you're going?" Will called after him.

"I'm going to do something you never did."

"Which is?"

Jack Sparrow's voice faded from Will and Elizabeth's ears as he walked inside of his quarters, slamming his door behind him. "I'm going to wait for the opportune moment."

~*~

DUN DUN DUN.

Reviews, please! Har har har.