Lord Knows I Can't Change

Chapter Six

The entrance was darker than he had remembered it to be.

Bootstrap sighed. He had no means of light what-so-ever.

If anyone or anything lurked in the cursed cave, he would be an effortless target.

            He continued to row his tiny boat forward, making sure to keep both a sharp eye and a sharp ear on his atmosphere. He had learned that technique the hard way, and it had nearly cost him his life. Sighing at the memory, cursing at the memories, he continued on. That eerie silence was once again settled in around him, and he had to literally keep himself from answering their calls as they walked through his mind.

He paddled faster, as if trying to swim away from them.

They followed.

Bootstrap answered by paddling even quicker.

They continued to beckon.

He continued to try to get free.

            "Would you give me a moment's peace!?" His voice echoed throughout the cave and he quickly dropped his eyes, shutting them tightly and shaking his head. No, they wouldn't win this time, not again, not now… -He had a job to do, he had to find his son; he had to find his best friend. Gripping the sweaty oars, he once again started to propel forward.

Bootstrap squeezed his eyes shut as they stomped through his mind.

He didn't even realize that he had increased the speed of his paddling.

That is until he hit land with a loud thump.

He found himself falling forward, caught off guard by the intensity of the collision.

             Bootstrap shook his head from side to side and stood up, slowly making his way out of the boat. Stealing a quick look around at his surroundings, automatically knowing just where he was, he started forward, eyes engrossed on the soft glow in front of him.

It was all so sickeningly familiar. Every detail, every chink, every rock.

He was frightened by the familiarity.

            Sighing, he vigilantly climbed up the conjoined rocks and crouched down, peering out over the larger one. His hand purposely swatted at some of the treasure, upsetting it, and he immediately ducked down all the way, listening suspiciously.

Nothing.

             Bootstrap turned to his left and made his way down the low-ceiling passageway; wincing when he bumped his head on it. Rubbing his head with his right hand, he made it out and stole a brief look around, momentarily confused as to where the chest was. He spotted it in the center of the large tomb-like room and jogged towards it, warily making sure that he did not touch or jostle any of the resting treasure that lay around it. He reached the chest and promptly froze in place; mumbled inaudible words falling from his mouth in the form of a hefty gasp.

Barbossa. Barbossa was dead.

He was dead beside the chest with dried blood surrounding him. Bootstrap backed away slowly, his eyes never leaving the former captain.

            Someone, someone had killed him… -But who? And when? He wasn't decayed, wasn't decaying, just looked like he was asleep, as if he would wake up any minute…-He should have been at least partially decayed by now, he should have been pale, he wasn't… he was… Lively looking. Bootstrap looked at the chest in bewilderment.

It was open. It wasn't shut.

Begun by blood, by blood undone… -It wasn't shut. 

            Bootstrap whipped around when he heard the treasure behind him being jostled. His eyes roamed over the various rocks and the entrance, over any possible hiding places.

He froze when something hard and cold pressed into the back of his head.

            "Fancy seeing you here, eh, William Turner?" That voice, oh dear God, that voice…

The abhorrence he had for the man was gradually resurfacing after twelve years of being buried.

            "Barbossa." The words left a bitter taste in Bootstrap's mouth.

            "Indeed." The older man forcefully yanked him around, staring him in the eye; that same deceitful smirk he had had on his face the day he marooned Jack playing on his lips. Barbossa held him in place with his left hand and held the loaded pistol to his temple with the right. "How did you get here?"

            Bootstrap clenched his fists in a combination of loathing and disgust. "That's none of your concern, Barbossa."

            "Aye," he protested, his scheming smirk growing even wider, if possible. He cocked the pistol. "But it is, William, it is." Bootstrap just stared at the man, as if daring him to pull the trigger. Barbossa's eyes roamed over his and he growled in exasperation, jerking Bootstrap closer to him and nearly spitting in the man's face as he yelled, "How did you get here?!"

            Bootstrap set his jaw. "Give me one good reason why I should tell you." Barbossa chuckled.

            "Because, unlike your son and your best friend, I can't die." His tone was laced with venom, the same venom it had been laced with twelve years earlier. Bootstrap had to literally hold himself back, knowing full well that fighting him would just be foolish.

Barbossa couldn't be killed by one man alone.

            "Jack's alive?" Bootstrap asked, playing the fool, already knowing that Jack Sparrow was indeed alive, that a mutiny could not kill the proud pirate captain.

            "Yes, he is. And if you want him to remain so, as with Will, I suggest that you let me, shall we say, commandeer your boat." He cocked his head to the side, grinning madly. Bootstrap just frowned and stared at him.

            "You wouldn't dare…" He breathed, referring to the threat aimed at the two most essential people in his life.

            "Ya never truly know someone, William, so don't be saying that I wouldn't dare, because I damn well would. So, if you don't want Jack and Will to experience a rather slow and painful death, I highly suggest that you let me borrow your boat."

            "Who stabbed you?"

            "That's none of your business, boy."

            "And neither is how I got here." Barbossa opened his mouth to object but shut it almost abruptly and rolled his eyes at the man's antics.

            "William, I can't die, they can…-You can." Bootstrap narrowed his eyes at that. "So unless you want me to kill them, stab Jack all over again and cut your boys bloody neck open, I advise that you follow my orders and sail back with me to Port Royale."

            "Why? So you can kill them then?" Furiously, Barbossa pushed the gun harder against his head, his finger dancing on the trigger. Bootstrap couldn't help the wince that ran through his body.

            "I either kill you and take your boat, or you follow me orders and sail back with me and help me port the vessel in Port Royale." His voice was low and ruthless. "And maybe, just maybe, you'll be able to outsmart me again and miraculously save the day, but I doubt it." Barbossa grinned mockingly. "Which will it be, mate?" Bootstrap stared at the man, his gaze never leaving the others eyes, those cruel callous pitch black eyes that he had come to hate more than anything else.

The eyes he had sworn to watch bug out as he ran a sword through his heart as revenge for all that he had done.

And he would live to see that.

            "You do know, Barbossa, that as soon as we get to Port Royale, I'm finding Will and Jack and escaping, right?"

            Barbossa merely grinned once more, seemingly unfazed by the man's future actions. "Ye can run, William Turner, but ye can't hide." He forced himself behind Bootstrap and started to his boat, his pistol still pressed against his temple with his finger lying gamely on the trigger. Jack, Barbossa's monkey, jumped down from some rocks overhead onto his shoulder, screeching loudly when he recognized Bootstrap.

Bootstrap could do nothing but cooperate with Barbossa at the moment, much as he hated that.

He needed him to lead him to his son and to his best friend.

Killing him could wait.

To Be Continued…

AN: Strange place to leave off, I know. I'm sorry this is so late guys, I've been writing this in bits and pieces for like the last couple of days. Stupid school and blah. I have no time. But- but!- tomorrow's Friday, so yey!! First time writing Barbossa, so yeah. Mleh.

Again, I apologize for the lateness of this chapter.

Thanks to everyone who R/R'ed or just read!! Ya'll rock!!

I know that there is a lot of confusion and questions now and I promise that they will be answered and cleared up!!

And to clear something up, chapter four took place at night, and chapter five took place the day after at noon. This one takes place around the same time, fairly close to evening now, though. It takes two days to get from the island to Port Royale and Jack leaves in two days, so he would be there when Bootstrap and Barbossa show up. Grin. Oh yes, that shall be interesting to write. :)

Also, I'm sorry if this one isn't written as well as the other five chapters.

I'll try to update ASAP! Please review on your way out. :)