Disclaimer: Still not mine, so don't ask again.

A/N: Firstly, let me thank WCSPegasus for giving me constructive criticism…I love it! Thank you for your time in reviewing and giving me suggestions…it was much appreciated. As for all of you other awesome reviewers out there: THANKS! I never expected such a response from this, and I am sooo flattered. Ok, enough of me, off to the Caribbean.

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Winds of Change

Thrice is the Charm

Guilt washed over him as he felt the ship battle the fierce winds, pitching and rolling almost to the point of capsizing. He still sat in the brig, aching in pain from beatings that, thankfully, no longer occurred. Barbossa ordered his men to leave him alone, and for that, Will was grateful. But unfortunately, sitting alone, one was especially vulnerable to his thoughts. And now, some of his thoughts began telling him he was a traitor.

Suddenly he wished he hadn't said anything to Barbossa about Jack being alive. Jack was his friend, he had helped him save Elizabeth, he had saved his own life and by doing so risked his own to hang from the gallows. And now, out of desperation and temporary insanity, he had virtually condemned Jack to death…

But Jack was dead, so how could he die?

There are things worse than death.

Will cried out in frustration as the voice that had been such a key role in him telling Barbossa where Jack was suddenly made an appearance again. He unconsciously rubbed his arm where there was a still-bleeding gash in it as he sat up against the brig wall, trying to block out the sounds of the crew yelling and the waves crashing against the hull of the ship…

You can't turn me out, Will Turner. I'm here to stay.

He sat up straighter, cleared his throat, and listened to the winds in the sails…

Keep trying. It won't work.

He painfully stood up and grasped hold of the iron bars to keep himself standing as the ship rolled violently under him.

Told you it wouldn't work. Maybe you should start listening to me more often.\

But Will knew that as soon as he listened to that menacing voice, the deeper he dug himself, and his friends, into trouble.

Oh, so now Jack Sparrow is your friend, is he? Abandoning you to Barbossa, keeping Elizabeth to himself. Perhaps this time he was really using you as leverage, mate.

Will shook his head, as if hoping to shake the voice from his mind. Unfortunately, it didn't work.

Yes, he is using you as leverage. He said so himself. Aye, perhaps it was a while ago, but he said it himself. Once a pirate, always a pirate, you know that…

And an unexplainable anger rose up in his gut, so powerful that he sat back down and leaned against the wall of the brig again, letting the splashing salt water soak his trousers but hardly noticing it.

Ahhh, and there's the anger. It hurts to be betrayed, doesn't it, Will?

Will unconsciously nodded. It hurt more than anything he had ever experienced. Again, a sudden warm feeling rushed over him and he abruptly became certain that Jack was, of course, a betrayer.

Aye, he betrayed you. But, lucky for you, you're going to get revenge.

Will's brow furrowed as he became unsure that what he was doing was right. A cold sense of doubtfulness swept over him, but it was soon subdued by the voice again.

If it weren't for Jack Sparrow, your father would still be alive.

Pain rushed to Will's heart…a pain he had never known before. Growing up without a father had hurt him more than he had imagined. He never had a father to look up to. He was the one who looked after his mother, who brought home the bread, who took care of her until the day she died. He had taken on the father role that he had never agreed to accept, he had lost out on the childhood that he had never agreed to give up…all because his father loved pirating more than his own family.

Think about it, lad. If Jack hadn't been such a terrible captain, your father wouldn't have been sent to Davey Jones's Locker…

It was true, a fact that even he couldn't deny. His father had felt loyalty to Jack Sparrow, and had thus sealed his fate. If Jack hadn't had been so tactless, his father would still be alive. If his father would've lived, Will wouldn't have lost out on his childhood, wouldn't have had to look after his mother and worry about money ever since he learned to walk. It was Jack's fault that his father was dead…it was Jack's fault that Will's life had been so hard…

It's Jack's fault, Will, but luckily you'll be getting revenge.

And despite the brutal winds and the rolling ship, Will smiled at the thought. He'd be getting revenge.

~*~

Barbossa studied the man that now sat facing him with utmost displeasure. He had been lied to or there had been a terrible misunderstanding; whatever the case, his information had been wrong. This man, as an informant, had failed him whether purposefully or accidentally, and he had never dealt with misinformation pleasantly.

"So, Mr. Gibbs, would ye kindly explain to me exactly as to why ye thought Sparrow was dead?"

Gibbs stared back, blinking at the mention of the name. He seemed to be thinking of a good excuse. It had better be a good one, Barbossa thought grimly, or he be marked a traitor…

"I can't explain to ye how Jack's alive," concluded the man gruffly, now looking from Barbossa to a bowl of apples sitting on the table before him. "All I can say is that man's full of surprises."

"Aye," Barbossa nodded, still studying Gibbs. "Aye, he is full of surprises. But surprises don't interest me, Mr. Gibbs. What does interest me is how you came to assume that Sparrow was now havin' afternoon tea with Davey Jones in his locker."

In the silence that followed, Barbossa sized the other man up obviously, trying to detect any intentions to mislead him. To his satisfaction (but ultimate discomfort) he could find none. Gibbs suddenly looked up at him, his own eyes narrowing.

"Cap'n, how do we know that Will Turner boy ain't a-givin' you a story worthy of the backside of a mule?" he asked, folding his arms across his chest.

Barbossa blinked. He suddenly scolded himself and wondered why, in the name of changing winds, he had believed the boy without interrogation or firm proof.

Because he is under the influence of the curse, he reminded himself, suddenly sneering. He can't lie…

"The curse sees that he don't, and we'll leave it at that," he responded sharply, lowering his eyes to stare at the apples in front of him. In due time, when Turner's blood was shed and the curse lifted, he would be able to eat as many apples as he could ever want….

"Why don't ye have an apple, Mr. Gibbs?" he asked sweetly, pushing the brass bowl towards his informant. Gibbs blinked as if slapped, looked from the ruby apples to Barbossa and back again, then slowly reached for the fruit. He grabbed one and shone it on his soiled shirt. He was about to bite into it when he looked at the almost-drooling captain and pocketed it.

"I'll have it later, if ye don't mind."

Barbossa sat back, smiling. He finally knew what was in that flask. "Not 't'all."

Nodding curtly, Gibbs snatched up his flask and took a deep gulp. As soon as he had swallowed it a slight grimace came to his face, and Barbossa smiled even wider. "Why didn't ye tell me the curse had got you too?" The man stared back at Barbossa, his mouth slightly agape. Barbossa continued, "Ye drink Sangria, matey. The Aztec potion to lift the effects of the curse." Gibbs cleared his throat, but remained silent. "So, Mr. Gibbs, that explains the flask. Ye need to drink it every eight hours to keep your skin from turnin' into bones in the moonlight. I suspect ye did it so Jack would never know, did ye now?"

Gibbs blinked a few more times before he answered in a deep voice. "If Jack knew I was under the curse, he wouldn't have trusted me." Barbossa nodded, and he continued. "The first time I convinced the crew to leave him wasn't too bad…Jack had said 'keep to the code' anyways, so they thought no more of me than a man obeyin' his cap'n. But the second time when I sent 'Lizabeth to get him alone, they were more s'picious, if ye follow. Main point is, cap'n, I've tried to kill Jack so many a-times for ye. He ne'er knew I was workin' with ye the whole time."

Barbossa sat back in his cushioned wooden chair and folded his hands in his lap. He studied the other man for a while before he said, "Ye've done well, Mr. Gibbs. Ever since ye joined up with me after maroonin' Jack on that wonderful island, ye have tried to help me. I s'pose it was you, then, who convinced him to fire on the British Royal Navy?"

Gibbs nodded. "Aye. Told him we'd never make it back to Port Royal to save Will Turner before ye got to him. Told him if he fired upon the Navy, they'd get there quicker than we ever would…'specially since I sliced the sails the day before, blamin' it on high winds. Got him to think twice…luckily he trusted me, and fired on 'em…got the rest of the crew killed, mind ye, but I couldn't be killed. I thought Jack was good as dead...saw him go under after the main mast fell atop his head…don't rightfully know how he survived it…"

Barbossa sat in silent contemplation. He knew that Jack was alive…Will couldn't lie, not under the curse. But how Jack was alive was a complete mystery. Barbossa rolled his eyes as he heard echo in his mind: You forgot one very important thing mate: I'm Captain Jack Sparrow.

"Thank ye, Mr. Gibbs. Ye are excused."

Both men stood up, and Gibbs walked out of the captain's quarters, nodding his head and closing the wooden doors behind him. Barbossa walked over to his table, eyed the apples, took one, and smelled it.

"Soon enough I will be able to eat ye," he said to it aloud. "Soon enough…"

~*~

"I'm ALMOST NAKED!" she cried in desperation, angrily staring at the pirate across from her who was busy studying the blue sky above.

"Ye aren't naked. I'm not that lucky," he commented. He looked at her, winked, and turned his back to the ocean, walking inland.

"Jack! I'm wearing nothing but my nightgown-"

"Ye didn't bloody well expect me to swim meself and you to shore while you were primly and properly done up with a dress and all, did ye?" he asked distractedly.

Elizabeth fumed, and as a slight breeze tickled her half-exposed arms, she shivered. "Well I was completely dressed in formal wear before you swam me ashore, which means someone must've undressed me and put this nightgown on me."

Jack paused in his stride and cleared his throat, his back still towards her. "Aye, well…you know those Caribbean monkeys. Damn clever and very lusty, mind ye."

"NO MONKEY UNDRESSED ME, YOU FILTHY EXCUSE FOR A PIRATE!" she screamed still shivering.

"Do you bloody have to yell?" he asked. "'tis the Caribbean, love. Try to enjoy it."

Letting out a cry of outrage, Elizabeth marched on after him, her eyes narrowed and her jaw clenched. How dare he undress her? If Will found out…

Will.

Her heart ached at the mere thought of him. She missed him dearly and only prayed that he was safe and unharmed. But as far as Barbossa went, her mind could only fear the worse…he was under control of the curse now, and, as far as she knew, he could be plotting against his very rescuers: herself and Jack.

Completely mindless of the present, she was abruptly halted when she walked smack into Jack's back. She stumbled and fell onto the hot, white sand and looked up into the grinning face of a man she wanted to slap. "Mighty clumsy of ye, love." He offered her his hand, but she ignored it and stood up on her own. Immediately, she regretted it, because she suddenly became dizzy. "Careful, there, lass…ye are in a delicate condition," he warned her, steadying her.

"I am quite knowledgeable of my condition, thank you," she shot back. She still let him hold on to her, however, for her dizziness had not passed. When it finally had she whirled from him and stared out in the direction they were walking, desperately trying to avoid looking Jack in the eyes.

"Love, where are you going?" he asked from behind her. She turned to see him, still grinning, pointing in the direction to her right. "'tis that way." She threw her head up in defiance and marched in that direction, ignoring the idiotic and flamboyant bow he now offered her, mumbling, "After ye, lass."

She looked ahead and noticed that the shoreline stopped abruptly. Instead, where there should have been more sand, there were oddly shaped caves that jutted out into the ocean. Waves splashed fiercely upon them, which was odd, considering she felt no wind.

"This way."

Jack veered her to the right, away from the water, up a couple of small mounds of sand, and across a prickly grassy field. She spent so much time watching where she stepped and trying to avoid trampling on a poisonous snake of some kind that she gasped aloud when Jack tugged her right arm to stop her.

She looked up and saw a huge cave entrance, towering perhaps fifty feet above them. Jagged edges and rough, wind-shaped sides jutted in each direction, creating an ominous feeling to overcome her. She looked at Jack who was also staring intently into the cave, seemingly deep in thought. She waited patiently until he spoke.

"I'm going in."

He walked forward and she followed him. He turned, confusion across his face. "Erm, love, I said I'm going in. I as in singular…we would be plural."

"I am most impressed that you know your grammar, Jack," she responded bitterly. "But I'm not waiting out here while you go into some forsaken cave."

Rolling his eyes and gesturing wildly while muttering something about "bloody women", Jack looked at her intently. "Ye can't go in there, lass. Trust me," he said loudly over her protests. "It ain't healthy for ye…or for the baby."

Elizabeth fell silent at the mention of her baby as she unconsciously rubbed her still un-showing belly. She looked into Jack's eyes and saw sincere concern. She knew Jack wouldn't abandon her, and, as much as she wouldn't admit it, she trusted him. Nodding her consent he went forward into the cave alone, shouting back, "If I don't return before nightfall, get back to the ship." When she protested, he yelled back, "Do ye have to argue with EVERYTHING I say? Bloody Christ, just do it for once and save me sanity!" And with that, she heard his footsteps die away into the cave, leaving her standing alone, listening to the crashing waves and the growing wind, wondering what sanity Jack was talking about.

~*~

"And really bad eggs…"

She couldn't help it…it was stuck in her head. That bloody annoying song had suddenly wedged itself in her brain, making it impossible to stop humming. She sat alone, on the quiet beach, facing the wide ocean, watching the sunset start to fall in the great heavens. The different hues of blue, stellar pinks, royal golds, and shocking oranges filled the sky above her. Despite the beautiful scene, she constantly worried about Jack. He had said if he didn't return by nightfall, she should return to the ship…

…which meant what? What would she do once she was there? She let out a groan of injustice; she hated being useless, and that was exactly what she was at the very moment. She wasn't helping to rescue Will, she wasn't helping Jack find the Aztec gold…she wasn't helping anyone, for that matter.

"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me."

Abruptly, a hand covered her mouth and a knife was lifted to her neck. She tried to scream, but the more she protested, the deeper the knife cut into her throat, so she stopped struggling as the husky voice growled for her to stand up. She did as she said and heard the man whisper in her ear, "'Ello, poppet."

She would've screamed if it weren't for the hand covering her mouth. The man whirled her around and she was shocked to see the last man she had wanted to see at the very moment, smiling heftily back at her.

Barbossa.

"A pretty young lass like yourself shouldn't sing such a crude song," he smiled, his eyes sparkling. "Much too pretty for those delicate lips of yourn."

He chuckled at his own joke, then ordered the man holding her, "Take her aboard the ship."

"What 'bout Sparrow, cap'n?" came the inquiry.

Barbossa smiled, and the wind picked up, shivering Elizabeth to the bone. "Leave him…he can have a nice stay here with the notion that the gold is in that yonder cave." Elizabeth watched as he pointed to the very cave in which Jack had walked in to. "Take her and sink the HMS Sea Farer. Let's see if Captain Jack Sparrow can get off of this island now…thrice is the charm, they say," he added as Elizabeth struggled, opening her mouth, trying to scream to get Jack's attention. But the knife around her neck cut her sharply, and she ceased to struggle.

"Well, Ms. Swann, looks like I will have to, once again, welcome you aboard the Black Pearl," sneered Barbossa.

 Before she could protest, a harsh pain hit her behind the head, and she found herself falling into darkness, with nothing but the rustling of the palm trees, the clashing of the waves, and the roaring of the winds deafening her ears.

~*~

A LONG ONE JUST FOR ALL OF YOU. I hope you enjoyed, and I hope this cleared up most of your questions…even though I still know some are unanswered. Thanks for the reviews, guys. J