Disclaimer: The plot is mine, the plot is mine, the plot is mine. Oh yes: the plot is mine. Anything else? *grumbles* No….

A/N: WOW. 219 reviews???????? I love you all! It's amazing! Thank you so much for everyone who is reading and/or reviewing. Ok. Now I just went to see PotC again last night (yes, I'm afraid I'm becoming a tad too obsessive) and it made me think a great deal more about my plot. So, I am now inspired to write the next chappy. Enjoy, mateys.

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Winds of Change

Leverage and Luck

Sorry, Jack, I won't be your leverage.

Will sat in the corner of his cell, shivering. It was now night, and the water had turned chilled as a snippy breeze fluttered in through the cracks in the hull of the ship. He turned to look at Elizabeth who refused to return his gaze. She hadn't spoken to him since he had said those things about Jack…

Those things are true, mate. He was going to use you as leverage…who's to say he didn't finally succeed?

He put his head in his hands and sighed. Everything had been so easy, so good, until Jack had come back to Port Royal…

Aye. He disturbed your tranquil life, didn't he, Will? He dragged you and your wife from your peaceful and safe home into the dangerous waters of the Caribbean, where both of your lives are at risk. What a wonderful friend, eh?

Will was so utterly confused upon where his loyalties lay that his mind spun and began to throb. He was sick of the voice in his head, but somehow he almost appreciated it.

You ne'er trusted pirates, and for good reason too. Why start now?

It was true…he had spent his whole life hating pirates. His mother had told him never to mix with that lot, and he now knew why: she was terrified her son would abandon her like his father did.

His father…

His father completely walked out of his life. He neglected his wife and even his own son to be with pirates…to be with Jack. He had always felt deserted by his father, but never had he felt spiteful as he did now. Suddenly, a great hatred rose in his stomach as he realized why he hated Jack so much.

Jack took your father away from ye, Will. That father of yourn would've rather been sailing around with Cap'n Sparrow than teaching his boy to swim.

He locked his jaw and stood up, walking to the right side of his cell, toward Elizabeth's. He could make out her delicate silhouette propped up against the cell bars, facing away from him, her head resting gently upon the iron.

"Elizabeth…?"

She didn't turn, nor did she answer. The anger that already collected in his gut began to grow. "Elizabeth, answer me," he said, pleadingly.

She didn't respond.

"Elizabeth," he said more forcefully.

Nothing.

"Elizabeth," he said through gritted teeth. Why wasn't she answering him?

"ELIZABETH!" he screamed, banging his fist on the iron bars violently.

Looks as if your own wife is abandoning you too…

He heard a rustle of movement as he saw her stand up, brush herself off, and turn to look at him, a blank expression on her face. But from the way she was breathing raggedly, he could tell she was crying. But somehow he didn't care.

"Elizabeth."

"What." The response was dull, emotionless.

"I…I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell," he lied. He wasn't sorry at all, and yelling was exactly what he had meant to do. When she didn't respond he swept a hand through his brown hair, thinking of what to say next.

Not responding to you, eh? What happened on that island with Jack, I wonder?

Will narrowed his eyes as he studied his wife who was now looking down at the floor yet nevertheless defiant. What had happened on that island, and why was she suddenly acting so distant?

"Jack abandoned us, Elizabeth," he started without preamble, staring at her. "He left us to the hands of Barbossa while he sat in his cabin drinking rum."

"It's not true," she said. He could tell she was on the verge of frustrated tears…and he was glad.

"Oh yes, it is," he continued, a smirk spreading across his handsome face. "He abandoned us, Elizabeth. He left me to be beaten and tortured by this crew, and left you to the hands of Barbossa who miraculously decided to leave you on board the Sea Farer. He's a coward, a useless scallywag. What I want to know is, darling, why you defend him." He said the last with such disgust and such condemnation that Elizabeth looked up, shocked.

"What?"

"Why do you defend him, Elizabeth? What do you have to hide by doing so?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but he didn't let her. "I know you love him, Elizabeth. Granted, maybe not love…but lust could be the appropriate word." He smirked evilly as she stared at him, open mouthed. "Oh yes, Elizabeth, I know you do. No need for you to deny it."

The silence that endured only made Will's suspicions even more convincing. He watched her stand there, silent tears falling from her eyes. He was glad he was hurting her, glad she was in pain…now she felt exactly as he did.

So mate, Jack is not only responsible for your father's neglect, but your wife's as well.

The two people he had loved more than anything else had been taken away from him by Jack. He was in pain because of that pirate, and he refused to suffer alone….

"I can't believe you, Will," came the soft response, barely above a whisper.

"What?"

"It isn't you who's speaking."

"Don't be ridiculous," he spat disgustedly. "Only it's not the naïve blacksmith boy who once believed you loved him speaking. It's an experienced pirate man who is now knowledgeable about the world and how it turns."

"I do love you, Will, you know this. I-"

"Yes, you love me, do you?" he interrupted angrily. "That must explain why you're blindly defending the man who wants me dead." Will saw Elizabeth open her mouth to reply, but no words came out. "So it's true, then, is it?" he asked with disgust, knowing full well the answer. "You and Jack are a happy couple."

He saw her shake her head, lowering her eyes to the floor. He knew how much he was hurting her, but she couldn't possibly know how much she hurt him.

'Tis Jack's fault…Jack is the reason your father abandoned you. Jack is the reason why your father is dead. Jack is the reason you are going to die. Jack is the reason your wife doesn't love you anymore. What more evidence do you need, Will, to realize that Jack is your mortal enemy?

"Yes," he said aloud, studying his wife's deadened eyes. "Yes. What more evidence do I need?"

None, Will Turner. You need none.

~*~

It was the strangest sensation he ever had. He couldn't feel much, due to the curse, but what he could sense was extraordinary. The vague tingling sensation that crept up and down his body made him almost shiver with delight. Pools of fish swam by him, slightly perturbed at the disturbance made by a human walking on the bottom of the ocean.

The mere fact that he could breathe underwater astonished him. He grinned mischievously. The fun I could have doing this, he thought. Even better than impersonating that cleric…

 The water was shallow yet, so the new sunlight still streamed down upon him, making his path visible. As he studied a peculiar looking fish to his right, a slight disturbance in the water made him look up. Suddenly it grew pitch black and he narrowed his eyes in a desperate attempt to see what was happening.

He soon realized that a large ship was passing overhead. Deciding to see what kind of ship it was, he pushed off from the sandy bottom and floated gently to the underbelly of the large vessel. As he touched the wood he immediately knew that the ship belonged to the Royal Navy; the wood was in exquisite condition and hardly corroded. He knew it would take thousands of shillings to keep it in this condition, and knew that no sailor could afford that upkeep unless it were the likes of the Royal Navy…

He slowly floated upwards and surfaced, feeling slightly more vulnerable than he had under water. The ship was moving quite fast, so he grabbed hold of a loose piece of rigging and pulled himself up, climbing the rope, using the ship's hull to place his feet.

He had expected to see the stiff gentlemanly sort, the ones with the powdered wigs and the primly smoothed uniforms, and wasn't surprised at all to notice that he had been correct. Ship-hands moved busily about the deck, scrubbing the hull and making sure to mast the rigging. As he watched a particularly fat sailor try to hide a sandwich in his pocket, he heard, "Oi! You there!"

He turned to see a fairly young soldier pointing in his direction. Jack's eyes grew wide and he had barely time to react when he felt many hands lift him over the side of the ship and onto the deck where he fell on his bottom with a thud.

Jack sat on the floor rubbing his behind, wincing. For some reason, that had hurt more than it should have, considering the curse. But he took no mind to it as he felt himself being hauled to a stand by two heavily armed guards. He rolled his eyes in exasperation as one of the guards, a young man who looked to be no older than sixteen, fumbled with the iron clappers.

"Oh enough! Here!" Jack said exasperated, grabbing them and clasping them on to his own wrists. "Honestly, shouldn't you be at home helping your mother cook dinner?" he asked, eyeing the soldier. He saw his face flush but had no time to respond when he heard a dignified voice behind him.

"I don't believe it."

He recognized the voice…it sounded very familiar, but he couldn't pinpoint exactly who it was. He turned and found himself face to face with a man who he both hated and admired.

Commodore Norrington.

"If it isn't Jack Sparrow," the Commodore said, a small smile appearing on his regal face.

Jack, knowing full well that the Commodore was not a man to jest with, decided against remind him that his name was Captain Jack Sparrow...because then the Commodore would ask where his ship was, and quite frankly, Jack didn't have the heart to tell him.

"Aye. Pleasure is mine, Commodore," he bowed dramatically, grinning. He looked up to see that the Commodore could no longer hold back a smile.

"Now, Mr. Sparrow, what brings you out in the middle of the Caribbean Sea, only a few miles off from Casa del Diablo?"

"I wasn't doing anything illegal, honestly," Jack suddenly said, the grin receding from his face.

"Going for a swim, then, I suppose?" the Commodore suggested.

"Ahhh…more of a bath, I would say," Jack responded. "I think I began to stink something awful."

"Well that surprises me," he replied. "Who put those on you?" he suddenly asked, frowning at the iron clappers. Jack didn't hesitate to point at the sixteen-year-old soldier accusingly, his eyes wide and innocent.

"Man, what is wrong with you? Remove those immediately!" snapped Norrington as the young soldier hastily removed the handcuffs, throwing Jack a vengeful look. Jack merely smiled and replied a swarthy "better you than me, mate" before following Norrington into his quarters.

"Now, Mr. Sparrow, in all honesty, what were you doing out there?" he asked, taking a seat behind a large oak desk. Jack stared at him blankly, unsure of where to start.

"To be frank with ye, Commodore, I don't have time to relate the whole story to you," he said, studying Norrington's suspicious expression on his face. "All I can tell you is that Elizabeth and Will Turner are in danger…grave danger from Barbossa and his crew who have returned. And this time, mate, it's just you, me, and the wind in our sails to help us find them."

Norrington sat back in his chair, obviously considering what he had just said. Jack waited, fidgeting with his effects and his hat, nervously waiting for the man to speak. "I believe you, Mr. Sparrow," he concluded, standing up. "I will entrust with you the lives of myself and my men to rescue Mr. and Mrs. Turner." Jack put his hands together and bowed slightly. "May I remind you, however," Norrington continued, "that if this is some elaborate pirate trick, it will not be tolerated. Is that clear?"

"Crystal," Jack said, nodding.

"Very well then. Carry on." Commodore Norrington gestured to the door, and Jack nodded warmly, spun on his heels grandly, walked out on deck, took a deep breath, and realized to his sorrow that this was the first time he would be on a ship without any pirates at all.

~*~

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