Will slowly and collectively shifted his gaze from his captain to Barbosa-Barabas, and then to the ship's wooden floor. Elizabeth had retreated with Little Jack buried in her arms. She was pale with confusion; Gibbs stepping in front of her with Anna Maria to make sure the boy was not a part of the deadly games that were taking place between man and ghost.

"Jack," Will stated sternly but softly, "I'm not Bill."

"Telling him doesn't help, does it?" Barbosa sneered in jest. "Sparrow's mad, has been ever since he watched his first mate go over. Not an easy thing to see, is it Jack?" Jack stared coldly into the vacant eyes of his enemy. "Well," he continued toward Will. "You'll soon find out, lad. You'll watch your captain go, then son, and then your wife. But I am a generous killer," he grinned his crooked smile. "I won't leave you to be so crazy. You'll die, too."

"This has gone too far," Jack angrily replied, a strange, ugly smile spreading across his lips. "You've caused this family enough trouble, and you won't involve an innocent boy."

"Nothin's innocent!" Barbosa roared, lurching forward. "Hate runs deep, Captain! Hate runs for you, too, boy!" he pointed at Will. Will looked at his sword, wondering if it was even worth trying to kill him. When would it end? His hand began to shake, his arm ready and wanting to strike. Barbosa sensed it and stepped forward, ripping the sword from Will's grip with a superhuman strength and settling the tip of his cutlass at the blacksmith's chest in seconds. "Sorry I confused ye," he hissed, "but there really is no way out." Jack rushed forward, pulling his arm back for a hearty swipe across Barbosa's side.

An exploding shot shattered the moment.

Elizabeth released a shriek as the others trembled, afraid to move. Barbosa smiled a bit wider as a smoking pistol was seen peeking out from his dirty jacket where his hand had been concealed.

"Jack!" Will screamed.

Jack's eyes widened as he staggered back. He looked down at his off-white shirt to see a spot of blood spreading quickly across the cloth. He blinked, choking back a cough as he lowered to a knee.

"Didn't…didn't see that one…comin," he swallowed. Gibbs and Anna Maria rushed to his side, Elizabeth keeping Little Jack from seeing the blood as he covered his little ears, and Will was stuck behind the blade.

"No, ye didn't," Barbosa sighed. "That's number one, Mr. Turner," he said to a petrified Will. "Next is two and three." Elizabeth began to whimper as the barrel of the gun extended, cocking toward her.

Will's eyes uneasily moved from his wife to his captain, and then to his captor. Everything seemed insane, out of place, falling apart—he was out of ideas, and Jack was losing grip. Something bright caught his eye on the other side of the ship. It was the small charm around his son's neck; it seemed to glow, to signal him. He gulped. Elizabeth could see something had touched him, and when he looked at her she gave him a questioning glance with her fear.

"Never mind," Barbosa muttered, growing impatient. "I will take care of Little Bill first." Will straightened up as the sword moved toward his neck. He waited while Barbosa prepared to strike.

Nothing happened.

A dumbfound look came over Barbosa's face as he struggled to hold the sword. Something was definitely wrong. He pulled back his sword and thrust it forward again, but it stopped, frozen right before Will's pale neck. The struggling Jack was watching while Elizabeth shook with fear.

"What's wrong?" Gibbs growled. "Can't bring yourself to do it?"

"I…I can't…" Barbosa muttered, frightened. "I…can't!" The cutlass was suddenly ripped from his hand and snapped across the deck. Will's eyes shot wide and he reached forward to grab his gun. Now Barbosa was unarmed. Elizabeth rushed forward with her child to see Jack. He was covered but pale and fighting for life.

"Uncle Jack!" the child cried.

The wind picked up, filling the sails of the Black Pearl. Crates on deck began to shift, but against the breeze—the rigging dropped down from above Barbosa and snaked around his limbs like living vines. Barbosa still had one last resort; he frantically reached into his boot and pulled out a dagger, flinging it toward Will who advanced to finish him. He stopped as soon as he saw the weapon, but it stopped in mid-air and flipped, shooting back toward Barbosa and plunging into his chest. Barbosa screamed, fighting the strange inanimate demons uselessly.

"What was that?" Elizabeth muttered.

"A ghost," Jack muttered.

"Don't speak, Captain," Anna Maria pleaded, dumping rum into his throat. "You're losing blood!"

"This ship is haunted," Jack said again, smiling, "but by a good ghost." Will watched between the crew and Barbosa as a slim figure slowly made its way toward the fallen enemy. It was like a shadow, outlined in the overcast mist that seemed to settle on the Black Pearl wherever it went. Will squinted his eyes to try and identify who it was, but he quickly realized it was ethereal, not anyone who had been on the ship before. Jack very slowly stood, struggling to walk as he joined Will's side.

"Captain, sit down," Will ordered, supporting the hurt pirate.

"No," Jack replied, grinning wider. "Not until you see your father."

The figure suddenly rushed forward, moving through Barbosa until a smoke-like dust had washed away any that was left of the possessed man. It happened too quickly for any of them to explain. All that was left was a gray, transparent man who was walking toward them both with a confident stride. Will was pale and gulping. Elizabeth and Little Jack were slowly following behind, the crew simply mystified.

It was a ghost, a phantom of a face Will hadn't seen in years. His eyes began to fill with tears as he recognized it as exactly who Jack had predicted. His father; it was his father, just as he imagined him, remembered him, anything he had left of his father who had defined him.

"Hello, Jack," an echoing, hollow voice spoke from the frail vision. Jack smiled and tried to extend a hand.

"Bill, Bill," he sighed. "I knew you were here. I knew you wouldn't let your son…" His voice trailed as he struggled to breathe. The ghost's glowing eyes shifted to Will. Will wiped his eyes, staring into the soft and transparent features of the ghost. Bill smiled and tipped his hat, the hat he wore before it floated above the waves that claimed his life. Will sniffed, holding Jack up.

"Look at you," Bill slyly smiled. "You've grown into quite a man, William. Look—look at that boy," the ghost laughed, glancing between the two. "He's a Turner, alright. I can see it."

"I…" Will stammered. "I…I can't believe…"

"It's a strange thing, I know," Bill said, the smile fading. "I wanted a good life for you, a better life than mine."

"It was a good life, Bill," Jack blurted.

"Aye," Bill smiled. "And you had one too." Will swallowed a few more tears, his glistening eyes turning to the captain, who was holding himself to keep alive. Jack smiled, a very pleasant and pleased smile, for he saw his old friend one last time. Bill reached out a hoary hand and touched Jack's hand that covered the wound. Jack blinked and drew a deep breath. The weight was lifted off of Will. "It's not over yet, Captain."

"You were a brother, Bill," Jack said, dark-lined eyes glazing over. "I knew you were watching over us."

"I always will," the ghost reassured. He looked back to Will and smiled. Will pleadingly looked on as the figure began to disappear.

"Father," he sputtered. "Father, thank you…"

"Goodbye," a whisper bid before the vision was gone. The crew, the captain, and the Turners were left speechless. They had just seen the last of the pirate ghosts.