A/N: Thank you to the few (two, actually)who have been reviewing! Willz, I agree, but oh well. I just do it because I enjoy writing.

Ch. 4

Elizabeth stared into the timeless dark of the brig. She wondered how long she'd been down there; it felt like years. The door banged open again and a tall, dark figure filled most of the doorway. "The Captain wants you to join him in his cabin," he said in a deep voice, unlocking the door with the heavy keys he carried. When Elizabeth hesitated, the man grabbed her roughly by the arm and pulled her out. "I don't have all day, wench," he growled, forcing her to come with him. As they made their way across the deck, mildly curious faces looked up at them, and Elizabeth found some of them strangely familiar. The tall pirate opened up the door to the captain's quarters and roughly threw her in. "I got the girl," he muttered, turning to leave.

The captain stood staring out the window. "You'll have to excuse Bo'sun, milady," he said, not bothering to turn around. "We pirates are not known for our manners."

"Why have you brought me here?" Elizabeth asked, struggling to stand.

"All in good time, luv. Are ye hungry?" he asked suddenly. He gestured to a plate of food sitting on his desk. "You're welcome to help yeself." Hesitantly, Elizabeth agreed. The pirates had given her one meal a day for the past several days, and she was starving. As she ate, the captain stood watching her. In the better light, Elizabeth could see that his straw-colored hair was short and pulled into a ponytail. A long, slightly raised scar that resembled a knife wound ran down the right side of his face. Icy blue eyes followed every bite of food to her mouth. She wouldn't have guessed that he was much older than Will, but there was a certain weariness in those eyes that aged him significantly. "We'll be reaching our destination shortly, Mrs. Turner," he said, breaking the silence.

"And where is that?" she asked cautiously.

The captain smiled, revealing yellow, decaying teeth. "Isla de Muerta. Are you familiar with it?"

Elizabeth tried to hide her surprise. "No," she lied. "Where is it?"

"You asked why I brought you here," he said, ignoring her question. "Let me tell ye a little story, luv. My father was a pirate, just like I am now. Bloody good one, too. He didn't tell anyone about my mother and I, but he sent money and visited when he could. Then, when I was but fifteen, he comes home and tells us that something has happened, and that he couldn't be with us anymore. When I asked, he said he'd tell me when I was older and to look after my mother. Never saw him again, but I got word when I was about twenty-five that he'd been killed."

"That must've been hard for you…"

"I wasn't finished!" he said angrily. "Y'know who killed him, Mrs. Turner? It was that bloody husband o' yours, and his friend Jack Sparrow. I have no doubt that they will come to rescue you. But when they do, milady, I will be waiting, and I will have my revenge."

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Jack stared at the steaming plate of food sitting on the edge of his desk. I'm not hungry, he told himself firmly, even as his stomach growled in argument. Forcing himself to look down at the maps he was studying, he repeated it over and over. I'm not hungry. I'm not hungry. I'm not hungry. I'm not…His eyes fell on the plate again. Finally, against his better judgment, he grabbed the small loaf of bread and took a bite, only to spit it back onto the plate immediately in disgust. It's bloody useless, he thought to himself angrily. Pausing to make sure that nobody was coming, he quickly unlatched his window and scraped the food into the ocean below. Satisfied, he turned back to his work.

"What was that about?" Blackbird asked from the doorway. "Joe's cooking isn't that bad."

"I'm not hungry," he muttered, not looking up at her.

Blackbird cocked her head and sat down in the chair across from his desk. "Really? Because as I remember it, you weren't hungry this afternoon, or this morning, or last night. Is something the matter, Jack?"

"It's none of your business," he replied irritably. "Now leave. I have some work I need to do."

Ignoring the dismissal, Blackbird persisted. "Jack, as your first mate, I'm entitled to know what's going on."

"Sounds kinda like what Barbossa said right before he stole my ship," Jack pointed out, pretending to still be completely absorbed in the map in front of him.

"Then as a friend," Blackbird insisted. "Jack, I'm really concerned about you."

"Same here," Will added, coming in from the hallway. "At least tell us part of it."

Jack sighed and folded up the map. He started to say something, then stopped. Finally, he tried again, "I've known, or at least suspected, that we'd have some kind of trouble involving the cursed treasure since about a week before Elizabeth disappeared."

Will frowned. "I'm not sure I follow," he said. "What made you suspect that?"

"Let's just say I've had certain…clues," Jack replied hesitantly. He stepped over to his window and looked up at the sky.

Blackbird shifted her weight impatiently. "Like…?"

Jack waited a few moments until the clouds parted again. The full moon cast silvery beams of light in through the window, and as they hit Jack, his form became skeletal. "Like that."

Will could only stare. "Then you mean…"

"I don't know," Jack said plainly, stepping away from the window. "I can only guess that someone found the treasure. I seem to remember hearing that if a single piece is removed, the curse affects any who were previously cursed as well. That would be me, and any of Barbossa's crew that survived. I can't imagine who would actually want to be cursed, though."

"Someone who knows their only shot at revenge is to be immortal," Blackbird pointed out. "Think about the note. Whoever wrote it is evidently holding a grudge of some kind against the two of you. What if they know they can't win the fight ordinarily?"

"That would make sense…" Jack mused. "Well, that should be enough information to satisfy even a Turner. I really do have some work to do, so if you'd be so kind as to leave…"

Blackbird rolled her eyes. "We're going," she muttered. Grabbing Will by the sleeve, she started to walk out of the room. "Come on, Will."