Disclaimer: All I own is the plot. Lucky me.

A/N: I love you all. No, honestly, I really really REALLY do. Never did I ever expect to almost reach 200 reviews…ever. Right now I'm at 195 and I nearly fell off my chair when I saw it. Thanks so much guys…I really appreciate it. Ok ok enough blabbing…chapter 12. Have fun.

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Winds of Change

The Pirate's Way

"Well, at least she listened to me for once," he muttered to himself as he continued to walk through the cave. Luckily there were holes in the jagged walls every few feet due to the heavy winds and crashing waves, thus making it possible to see via the sunlight now streaming in. He watched his step carefully as he splashed through the ankle-deep, lukewarm water, traipsing hopefully towards the chest of gold that he knew would be there.

An eerie smell of must and dankness filled his nostrils as he took a sharp intake of breath; he had come to a fork in the cave and had no way of knowing which direction to take. Truth be told, he had never been there before and had gone to Isla de la Viento solely based upon that forsaken piece of parchment Gibbs had left him, muttering only, "Just in case." He wondered where Gibbs had gotten that peculiar map and why he decided to hand it over to him…Jack furrowed his brow in contemplation as he looked from the left path to the right path in complete confusion. No matter now; the fact was he trusted Gibbs with his life, and if he had to go blindly into the depths of this hellish cave to hopefully save Will, Elizabeth, and millions of other souls, then he supposed it would have to be done.

Since when have you looked out for others, Jack Sparrow?

What in bloody hell was that? he asked himself, frowning. Where did that voice come from? Jack turned slowly to look behind him and found nothing but an eerie stream of daylight reflecting in the stream of murky water he had been walking through. But that voice…it was so distinctive, so powerful that he realized, to his dismay, that it could only have come from one place.

His own mind.

Trying to push this disturbing fact aside, he walked forward resolutely. "If I were a chest of soul-damning, life-ending, curse-wielding Aztec gold where would I be….?" He asked himself aloud, his hands on his hips. He bit his inner lip and breathed deeply. "Fine," he said aloud once more. "Let's do this the pirate's way…Code, third line, fourth paragraph…If a fellow pirate take ye gold, cut off his right hand, leavin' him only his left to fight with…" he recited from the back of his mind, squinting. "Cut off his right…leave him with his left…" he muttered, mulling it over in his brain. "Cut off his right…then it must be left," he said confidently, smirking to himself in satisfaction. He splashed ahead towards the left path.

As he continued to go deeper and deeper into the cave, he noticed that the chamber was getting narrower and narrower…until finally he reached a spot where the path was a mere three feet in width. "Wonderful," he muttered, eyeing the space-lacking path. Nevertheless he turned sideways, sucked his stomach in, and wedged himself nicely into the crevice. Realizing that he was stuck, Jack tried to move to the left. No luck. Then, he tried to move to the right and slide along the jagged edges of the wall on his back. No luck. Finally, after squirming for a good ten minutes he just stood there, his arms forced down flat against his body, his head resting on the wall in back of him, panting heavily. Maybe I'll be here forever, he mused, scoping his surroundings. Not bad…but I'd miss the rum and the view…

So there he stood, decidedly stuck, trying to figure out what to do. He saw the light from the hole in the cave wall, placed a few feet above him, wean and change colors, from a bright yellow to a gorgeous gold to a dazzling red. Finally, the light dissipated all together, and he was left standing in virtual pitch blackness.

Minutes passed by and still he did nothing…there was nothing to do. Hours passed and he noticed, to his dismay, that an itch on the tip of his nose was born, and he scrunched his nose in every direction as if hoping to miraculously evade the itch. Finally, after minutes of complete agony he leaned forward and scratched his nose upon the rough surface of the serrated rock in front of him, sighing afterwards.

He cleared his throat and began humming none other than A Pirate's Life for Me, when a direct beam of moonlight fell across him, hitting him directly in the chest and cascading towards the floor. He suddenly felt lighter and less claustrophobic and looked down to see no flesh, but bone. He smirked and stretched, muttering, "Well, at least the bloody curse is useful for something…"

Without further ado he shimmied his way out of the crevice, and as soon as he was out of the moonlight he turned back into flesh and blood. Admiring himself for no real reason, he adjusted his effects, tilted his hat, flicked back his hair, plastered a grin on his soiled and tanned face, and proceeded towards the chamber of the gold.

The rest of the way through the cave was easy. There were no more narrow passageways, no more forks in the path, no more crevices three feet in width. It got darker and darker as Jack proceeded deeper into the cavern, and suddenly he felt extremely claustrophobic again. The water at his feet became murkier and colder, but he took no mind to it as he stumbled upon what he had been looking for: a chamber, the entrance covered by the Jolly Roger flag. He rushed forward, ripped down the flag and almost let out a cry of happiness when he saw, a few yards in front of him, the chest. He grinned in a self-satisfactory way, pushed forward, flung open the chest, and nearly fainted as he saw what was inside.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing was inside…

…save a piece of parchment with scribbled writing in black ink.

His heart thudding in his chest and disappointment flooding his veins, Jack cautiously picked up the note and read:

Thought you could kill me, eh? Oh matey, the Curse has a mind of 'er own.

~*~

Elizabeth watched as the HMS Sea Farer took its last breath of air before it completely submerged into the clear waters of the Caribbean. All of her hopes and happiness submerged with it.

But she wasn't about to show Barbossa that.

"Now, missy, I would love to see how that cap'n of yourn gets off this island," Barbossa grinned at her. She glanced at him disgustedly, then decidedly marched off to stand at the end of the ship, looking back at Isle de la Viento as it sank into the distance. Wiping her eyes she suddenly turned and shouted, "Where's my husband?"

"Aye, your husband," Barbossa growled. He motioned to his first mate to lead her down to the brig to see him, shouting after her, "and ye might as well stay down there to keep him company."

She was led down to the brig and crumpled her nose at the moldy smell that awaited her senses. She squinted in the darkness and could barely make out a cell, only about five feet long and three feet wide, with a small figure sitting against the wall.

"Will?"

"Elizabeth!" Will stood up and Elizabeth saw him stagger, but nevertheless, he flung himself at the bars, reaching through them and grabbing her hands. He pulled her towards him and kissed her, tears of relief coming to his eyes. Rough hands separated them and she was put into an adjacent cell. As the door creaked to a close, Elizabeth felt a sudden feeling of haplessness invade her stomach.

"Are you hurt?" he croaked. Elizabeth could tell he was panic-stricken.

"No," she said. "Are you?" With the blinding darkness, she couldn't tell how he fared, but was calmed with a relief that flooded her heart.

"No." But Elizabeth knew he was lying. Somehow, though, she didn't pursue the matter; her husband was alive. Some hope and faith that had left her with the HMS Sea Farer returned, and she felt as if a dozen weights had suddenly been lifted from her shoulders. She could almost cry with the joy in the knowledge that she and Will were reunited. She had feared for him so much that she had almost convinced herself he was dead…or worse…

Suddenly, a thought stumbled upon her relieved brain that made all of her worries somehow relinquish her jovial feelings. "Will, they left Jack on that island! We have to do something," she explained quickly as she wrung her hands, trying desperately to adjust her eyes to the absence of light. She expected Will to enthusiastically respond, expected him to have a plan already in motion to rescue Jack, expected him to express his worries but his faith in the fact that they would help him get off that forsaken island. She expected him to say anything but what he actually did.

"Serves him right."

It felt as though she was plunged into a vat of ice water. All of the air left her lungs and an omnipresent chill ran up her spine. Not only did her husband's words seem alien, but his voice seemed as if a stranger spoke them…she was horrified to hear that they were full of contentment and pure hatred.

The curse…

"What?" she managed to ask, although she had heard quite well.

"He abandoned, us, Elizabeth. He hid in his little captain's quarters while they took me and did whatever they wanted with you." In the silence that followed, Will decided to speak again. "He's a coward, Elizabeth, nothing more."

"He's not a coward," she said through gritted teeth, thoroughly alarmed. This wasn't her husband…

The curse…

"Yes he is. He's a pirate, and always will be. Nothing but a disgusting, selfish pirate-"

"Who wouldn't ever hesitate to save your or my life," she finished harshly, her eyes wide with fear and misery. She suddenly felt a shudder come over her, enveloping her in its troubling embrace. Disappointment rung in her ears as she realized that the curse was in control of his mind and body…at least, as far as she knew.

But what she didn't know was that Will suddenly felt an enormous rush of guilt.

Why are you feeling guilty, lad? Jack's the enemy, Jack helped Barbossa capture you, Jack was too cowardly to stand up for you in the face of your enemy.

But he abruptly realized, despite his mind telling him otherwise, that Jack wasn't the enemy; he wasn't the one who was helping Barbossa, he wasn't the coward who refused to stand up for his friends, he wasn't the one who had fallen victim to the curse without a fight.

Jack hadn't done any of those things…

…and desperation consumed Will as he realized that he had done all of them.

~*~

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