Anamaria was determined to see that Jack didn't break his deal with her and ended up sharing the room with both Jack and Will. Reluctantly the gentlemen, Jack allowed her to sleep on the bed while he managed to contort himself enough to curl up in the chair off in the corner. Will, being the youngest, was given only one choice: the floor. So instead he made his way back downstairs again and curled up in the worn armchair, his arms wrapped around his knees and cutlass out in plain sight should anyone decide to mess with him.

Upstairs, neither pirate talked to each other. Jack gazed out the window to the ocean, entranced by the way the moon reflected down on the waves. He missed that view from the Pearl. He missed being on the Pearl. He could've been there right at this moment if it hadn't been for Barbossa. One hand clenched unintentionally as he thought of the bastard who had left him to die on that island. Unfortunately for the bastard, Jack's sixth sense that seemed to lead him to rum led him straight to a hidden cache and from there, to the smugglers that the cache belonged to. With a little creative ingenuity and a few trinkets he still had on him, he managed to barter himself passage to the same port they were going to.

He glanced over to see that Anamaria had fallen asleep, chest softly rising and falling. For a moment he entertained the thought of taking a look through her pockets and taking something like she had done to him, but he realized in all fairness that taking her boat probably had been revenge enough. He had, after all, sunken it at Port Royal. Instead he went back to staring at the ocean again, distant memories coming back to tantalize him.

Jack stood on the stairs of the quarterdeck, looking at the men assembled in front of him. He hadn't called them to attention, yet here they were in the middle of the night. He gazed at all their faces and saw nothing but contempt, anger, and a slight smugness. There was no longer any fear of the captain there, no respect, which Jack knew could only mean one thing. Mutiny.

The hand of his first mate closed around his bicep and gave it a painful squeeze. Jack grit his teeth but did nothing else, his face remaining deadpan. He turned to face Barbossa with that expression on his face. "Mutiny, aye? I thought better of you than this."

Barbossa smiled at him and Jack couldn't help but compare it to the smile of a thief who has just stolen every last cent from another. He tried to pull his arm away, but Barbossa held firm and another set of hands grabbed his other arm. He turned to see Bo'sun smiling down at him, moonlight reflecting off the studs set into his skin. "That's what you were looking for, isn't it? You only needed the directions to the island and then you planned all this, didn't you?" Jack demanded loudly. "You cowardly dog!"

The resulting hit caught him off guard and sent him tumbling down the stairs to sprawl on the deck below. He hit, the air leaving his lungs for a moment and rage boiling within him. To be betrayed by his own first mate was something...something he never thought would happen to him. Ever prideful, Jack pushed himself to a sitting position and wiped a sleeve across his mouth. In the moonlight overhead, he saw the dark stain in the white fabric and looked up to see Barbossa making his descent down the stairs. He got to his feet, about to lunge when Ragetti and Pintel caught his arms and dragged him back. Other hands latched onto him, preventing him from attacking Barbossa. Their new captain.

"Stop! Stop this right now!" The voice came from the back of the crowd and suddenly pirates were being shoved out of the way as another person made their way to the front. William Turner, known as Bootstrap Bill Turner to most of them, shoved his way out of the crowd and came face to face with Barbossa. "What is the meaning of this?" He demanded, a fierce determined look on his face that his son would one day inherit.

"Where were you?" Barbossa asked simply. "The Bos'un called for everyone to be on decks."

"I was finishing the ledger and recording all the loot accumulated while I was gone." William responded stiffly. "As Captain Sparrow asked me to. Now answer my question. What is all this?"

"Watch the way you speak to me, Bill." Barbossa said darkly. "From now on, it will be captain to you." William's eyes widened slightly and he looked back to Jack, forcibly restrained by what had once been his crew.

"No...you can't do this!" He said angrily. "Jack has been good to all of us! Very few captains on the seas would give the shares he does or treat his crew with such that he does. We're also one of the more successful ships as well. What gives you the bloody right to do this?" He was nearly shouting now. Barbossa grasped the front of his shirt and pushed him backwards into the crowd. Arms snaked out to grab William, holding him tightly as well.

"Barbossa!" Jack shouted, interrupting the moment. "Leave him be! I'll take what I have coming." He hadn't seen a way out of the situation before, and now with his best friend in the mix, it was even worse. Every year, Jack allowed William a month of leave to go back to his son and lover back in England. From late night talks over bottles of rum, Jack knew that if something were to happen to William, Anna would be forced to become one of the women who worked the corner and their young son, aptly named William for his father, would be forced to beg.

William looked over to him and shook his head, but any protest was quickly stifled by Jack's look. "If that's what all of you have agreed upon, leave me on the island you have chosen with my pistol and one shot." He said, chin raised proudly. "But mark my words Barbossa, this is a mistake. The Pearl is mine." He said the last four words forcibly. "And I'll be back for her." He felt hands around his waist as he talked, slipping his pistol into his belt and a small canteen of water. Jack fought back the urge to kick whoever was behind him and allowed himself to be led over to the rail. One of the pirates gave him a forcible shove out onto the plank and he stumbled forward. Whirling around, he slammed a fist into the face of the offender and hopped to the end of the plank before any of the others could reach him.

"If I'm goin' to go, I'm goin' on me on terms, savvy?" He growled at them, steadying himself on the wobbling board. He glanced down into the churning ocean, which reminded him of ink in the darkness. He could barely make out the island in the distance, but the outline was faint enough that he could see where he was going.

He turned to face Barbossa and his old crew once more. "Mark my words, Hector. Traitors and mutineers pay in the end, when Old Scratch is playing with their souls." Nearby he could see William struggling against his captors, shouting for Jack to stop, for Barbossa to stop. For a moment he wished that William had never fallen in love with that English woman, had never had a son, so that Jack could've had a first mate he trusted instead of one that came highly recommended by some drunkard in a bar.

With as much dignity as possible, Jack stood at the end of the plank, looking off into the distance. He heard the words 'too long' uttered behind him and suddenly he went crashing into the sea. He found his way back up, coughing and spluttering. Shooting a dark glare up at the ship, he started his long swim towards the island.

"Your days are numbered, Barbossa. No one ever crosses Jack Sparrow and lives long. No one."

"Jack, you're talking in your sleep." Someone was shaking him as he slept curled up in the chair. "Come on, Jack. It's time to get up anyway." The voice was female, but muffled in the groggy pirate's mind.

"Giselle?" He opened his eyes and craned his head around to look up into the face of Anamaria. "Not Giselle. Banshee woman." He laid his head back down on his folded arms. Anamaria took the insult remarkably well and instead of slapping Jack just proceeded to kick over the chair and walk from the room. Jack muttered a few obscene curses and pulled himself to his feet, dusting off his clothes. He swiped his belt off the floor and pulled it around his waist as he left the room and headed down the stairs after her.

The tavern was usually empty at the early hours of the morning, but not today. Twenty men sat at the tables, sipping quietly from mugs and talking in hushed conversations. The conversations stopped as soon as Jack appeared. He casually walked over to where Will was leaning against one of the support poles.

"What's this?" He asked, gazing at all the men. Most of them had seen their glory days and then sold them to the highest bidder. Some looked as if they could keep over on the very spot.

"Your able bodied crew." Will said, gazing around at them with an ironic smirk on his face. Jack gave him a dark look and looked out over the motley crew as well, looking for the man who had assembled them. Gibbs saw him looking and broke away from the conversation, hurrying over to Jack.

"What do ye think, captain? Faithful hands before the mast in their day. Hard workers and fighters, the lot of them." Jack bit back any harsh responses that might have come to him and crossed his arms.

"Then it's a deceitful looking bunch." He said quietly. "We just might lose half of them at sea." Gibbs gave him a look and then grabbed his arm, pointing to one table.

"Ask any one of them." He said proudly. Jack pulled his arm loose and headed over. The men at the table immediately quit talking and snapped to attention as Jack approached. Quietly he pointed to the man with a rather colorful looking bird on his shoulder and motioned for him to stand up. He did so quickly, standing at rapt attention. "That's Mr. Cotton." Gibbs supplied from behind.

"Mr. Cotton. Do you have the courage and fortitude to follow orders and stay true in the face of danger and almost certain death? Mr. Cotton ! Answer man!" He bellowed. By this time, the whole tavern had gone quiet and all eyes were on him and Cotton.

"Wind in the sails!" The bird squawked, fluttering its wings.

"I wasn't askin' you." Jack said pointedly to the bird. "I was askin' him."

"Sir, he's a mute. Doesn't have a tongue." Gibbs supplied nervously. Cotton opened his mouth to demonstrate that fact, Jack making a very interesting face in response. "Parrot does most of his talking. I think he said 'yes' though." Jack gave him a look and gazed back out over the tavern. He wasn't going to find a better crew at this short notice. With a resigned sigh, he raised his hands.

"What say you all?" He asked. There was a thunderous 'aye!' Jack pointed over his shoulder. "Ships that way." There was a scraping of chairs as men scrambled to their feet and headed for the door, eager to get underway. Anamaria brought up the end of the crowd, giving Jack another dark look as she passed by.

"We're takin' her along?" Gibbs said, looking up to Jack with wide eyes. "It's bad luck to be having a woman on board." He protested.

"It'd be worse luck not to have her." Jack responded, thinking of the ways that woman would hunt him down and make his life a miserable hell if she wanted to. He didn't plan on double crossing her this time around. He turned, heading for the door of the tavern. Will fell in step beside him.

"Why is it bad luck to have a woman on board?" He asked Jack, raising an eyebrow.

Jack waved a hand. "I could tell you, but the reasons would take all day."

--------------

Water crashed up on deck, sending most of the crew sliding across the deck of the Interceptor and into the rails. Will clung tightly to the line he had been trying to tighten as he felt the ship tilt slightly under his feet and then right itself. The moment he got the chance, he lunged forward and wrapped the line around the belaying pin, pulling it as tight as he could when his hands were so slick with water. Around him, the crew got to their feet and rushed to complete tasks as well.

Gibbs had centered himself by the mast, taking deep sips of the contents of his flask. Will's gaze went up to Jack, standing on the quarterdeck with the wheel in hand. An almost insane look was on his face, made that much more crazy by the lightning flashing behind him. Will gripped the rail tightly as he headed Jack's way. He managed to get up the steps of the quarterdeck, hanging tightly to the rail.

"What are you so happy about?" He shouted as he approached the wheel. His eyes narrowed as he took in the compass. Jack had told him of it when he was a boy. Supposedly it had some kind of power to guide Jack back to the Pearl. All this time, they hadn't been just following blind stories of sightings of the Pearl, but the direction Jack's compass steered them in.

Jack's grin grew as he looked over his shoulder at Will. "We're catching up." He said simply and returned his gaze to the sea. "We're almost there."

-----------

The storm tapered off in the early morning hours, leaving the crew with a chill in their bones from damp clothing. A heavy fog had settled around them as the ship moved through the sharp rocks. Jack stared intently at the compass, the only way he was able to maneuver the dangerous rocky path into the bay of Isle de Muerta.

Will sat on the rail, holding tightly to the line and peering over into the waters. Once in a while, he could make out the mast of a submerged ship in the fog. He was so intent on his surroundings that he didn't hear Gibbs approaching.

"Puts a chill in the bones how many have been claimed by this passage." He said reverently. Will nodded solemnly, but remained quiet. Most of the crew was quiet, as if paying respects to those that had fallen before them.

Jack shut the compass in his hand and hooked it back on his belt. "Lower the anchor!" He bellowed, watching as the men suddenly scattered to go do their tasks.

"Gibbs, did Jack ever tell you how he escaped the island?" Will asked, sliding down off the rail. Gibbs shot a look in Jack's direction and took Will by the arm, crouching down.

"The way I hear of it, he wandered out into the ocean and waited, night and day. So quiet and so patient was he that all manner of sea creature came a-climbin' into his presence. Quick as he could, he grabbed a couple of sea turtles and lashed them together!" Gibbs accompanied his story with hand motions.

Will started laughing. "Lashed together a couple of sea turtles? That couldn't be true! If he was stuck on an island, what did he use for rope?"

The question gave Gibbs pause. He thought it over for a moment and came to no reasonable explanation. Suddenly the two men were aware of another presence and glanced up to see Jack hovering over them.

"With hair. From my back." He responded with an eyebrow raised. The response got even more laughter from Will and a sheepish expression crossed Gibbs' face.

"I guess we'll never know then." Will got to his feet. "Is it time?" Jack nodded, helping Gibbs to his feet.

"It's time. You know the code?" He asked Gibbs. Gibbs nodded.

"Still know it and honor it, sir." He responded and headed off to go get the crew in order. Jack glanced back to Will, who nodded.

"Let's go get your ship back."