Disclaimer: The same as usual.

Well, let's see what happens now, shall we? Because, truthfully, I haven't the faintest clue.

I'm also going to take the time to extend my vocab somewhat this chapter, instead of slapping down the same words repeatedly.

Chapter 8

-On the Seastorm-

Jack leaned against the bars of the cell. He was trying in vain to be comfortable, something that was very difficult to accomplish, as he was smushed into the same cell as the rest of his crew. Will, however, had a cell all to himself. "Lucky dog," Jack muttered darkly.

Will did not feel so lucky. He had failed Elizabeth. She was possibly already dead, and now he was kidnapped. Why did he even try, if she was to marry the commadore? Did it really matter? But yes, yes it did matter, it was important to him.

"Hoi, whelp!" Will looked up at this new title of his, his expression devoid of any emotion. He had decided not to let any of the pirates see the pain they were causing him. "Cap'n is ready fer ya."

"Best o' luck, Will," Jack called as his friend passed by.

"I sure hope you've a plan, Jack."

"'Course I do. I'm captain-"

"Jack Sparrow. I know." Will ducked his head, and was dragged roughly up onto deck, passing the hanging corpse of Jacob on his way.



-On the Pearl-

Gibbs awoke with a pounding headache. "Shouldna o' drank s'much rum," he slurred, dragging a gnarled hand across his aching eyes. He leaned (more like collapsed) over the railing and proceeded to dispose of all he had eaten the previous day, in an unappealling manner.

Well, that did it. He was not going to sit idly on this damn ship all day while his friends were in peril. He'd just have to pilfer a ship. He was, after all, a pirate, and he'd done the like many a time.

"'Ello, Gibbs, I 'eard you were in town." A man stood there, watching him. He was not a large man, nor a small man, neither fat nor thin. He was simply average, in every way. Rather a boring man, but Gibbs was glad to see him anyways.

"Eh, Thomas? Be that you? Aye, 'tis. Ye make good timing."

"Well, I 'eard me old friend was here, so I thought I'd pay a visit." Shrugging his shoulders lightly, Thomas paused. "Good timin'? Fer what?"

"I need a favor."

"Aye, that much is obvious. But what do ye wish of me?"

"I need ye t'look after the Pearl for me." Gibbs regarded him sedately. "Y'see, it's a long story, mate, but I've got places t'be... I'd be back... soon."

"How soon is soon?" Thomas seemed to be pondering this, carefully, reflectively. "And can I trust ye?"

"I'm not knowing how soon. But o' course ye can trust me. Aside from that, ye owe me. Remember? I found yer wife when she'd been taken by another crew. 'Twas out of me way an' all. Come now, Thomas..."

"Aye!" Thomas exclaimed after a moments rumination. "Aye, I shall help ye, Gibbs. But hasten, mate, I've not all the time in the world t'be watching yer ship."

"Thank ye, mate, I'll be back as soon as I can!" And with that, the delighted pirate hurried off down the docks, searching for the perfect boat to commadeer.



-On the Seastorm-

"Will! Will, lad, are you-" Jack peered through the bars of the cell, only to have his face walloped by Lumpy.

"Git back, you! The lads unconcious, can't ye see?" Will was dumped unceremoniously in his cell, and Lumpy strode back upstairs.

The Pearl's crew and the Dauntless's crew both craned forward to see the state of Will Turner. He was bloody, torn, and bruised. Yes, clearly his meeting with Captain Barrin had not been enjoying, to say the least.

-A Day Later-

-On Gibb's Boat-

"What 'ave we 'ere?" Gibbs stretches, quite pleased with his little one man boat. Being all by his "onesies" as Jack might say, however, was getting to him. He had begun to converse with himself. Now, something had caught his attention. Something drifting... drifting, slowly.

He leaned forward, and what he saw shocked him. "Miss Swann?" He recieved no appreciative greeting, for Elizabeth had lost conciousness quite some time ago. She was hauled on board, and Gibbs set her on deck, then hastened to find water. "Drink up, Miss Swann. If William finds out I let ye die, he'll gut me." The man was now thankful that he didn't have to talk to himself, even if his only other option was talking to an unconcious girl.