Disclaimer: "I 'appen to 'ave no dress in my cabin."

Hello! Sorry it's been a while. But I'm back! The new Dead Man's Chest preview has inspired me. Here's chapter 12!

Chapter 12: Not Again

"What are you going to do with us?" Gibbs asked to no one in particular.

"I dunno," said one of the men who was keeping watch on the crew. "Captain 'asn't told us. Guess you'll find out soon enough. Knowing Morse, I wouldn't be too excited."

They had been sailing for about an hour. Every member of Jack's crew was tied up, unless you count Jack himself. Will was tied to one pole, along with Gibbs and some of the other crew. Elizabeth was tied to another, along with Ana Maria and the rest of the crew. All of their arms were beginning to burn from the ropes that bound them tightly. The other ship, owned by Morse and his crew, was following the Pearl some distance away.

Will noticed that Jack had been right – this particular pirate crew was large, perhaps about thirty men, if you included the ones on Morse's ship. Will couldn't help feel an angry twinge as he thought of Jack. If it weren't for him, he thought, Elizabeth and I would be at home right now. He looked at Elizabeth. She was staring at the ground. He looked away. It was too hard to see her in such pain. Will thought of telling the pirates that his wife was pregnant, but he didn't do it. These pirates didn't seem to have a drop of mercy in their bodies.

Morse walked onto deck. He walked slowly around, looking at the bound crew.

"What do you want with us?" Ana Maria asked him angrily.

"Now, now," he said, "I was about to explain that, if you'll shut your traps. I want you to be part of my crew. I don't care if you don't want to. You don't have a choice."

"Why, Morse?" Gibbs asked, frowning. "Your crew is big enough already, innit?"

"In my opinion, a crew is never big enough," replied Morse. "It doesn't matter to me whether or not the additions to my crew are a bunch of pox-faced, lily-livered, idiotic swines, like all of you. What matters to me is that you do what I say. If you don't, I'll make your life Hell." He thought for a moment. "I suppose that's a choice, isn't it?"

The crew was silent, but there were looks of horror and rage on their faces. All eyes were on Morse as he walked up to Will.

"You're not a pirate, are you?" he asked.

Will glared at him.

"I'm a blacksmith," he said, deciding on the truth, or most of it anyway. "And that's my wife." He nodded his head toward Elizabeth, who glared at Morse also.

"Right," said Morse. "Well, I can't have you working on my ship if you are not a pirate. You and your wife will not be part of my crew." He walked past Ana Maria. "And neither will you," he said, looking at her, "I do not allow wenches in my crew." She just glared at him. He walked to the other pole and looked at Gibbs. "And you won't be in my crew either," he said to him.

"An' why's that?" Gibbs asked suspiciously.

"'Cause I never liked you," he said. "You annoy me, almost as much as Sparrow does. There's no way I'm allowing you or Sparrow in my crew. But the rest of you will do." He began walking to the helm.

"What are you going to do with us?" Will called after him. "Those of us who won't be in your crew?"

"You'll see soon enough," he replied carelessly, not looking back.

After a while, Morse ordered his crew to let Jack's crew loose of the ropes. They did so. All of the crew rubbed their raw arms. Some had cuts from the ropes. When Will was loose, he walked toward Elizabeth. Morse stepped in between them.

"No," he said, "you will stay over there, and she'll stay over there," he said, pointing in opposite directions of the ship. Will shot him daggers with his eyes, but did as he was told, very reluctantly. "That goes for the rest of you as well," said Morse, "half the crew on the Port side, and half on the Starboard side." The crew did as they were told, and sat down gratefully.

Will met Elizabeth's eyes from opposite sides of the ship. Will tried to give her a look that said I'm so sorry. She returned it with a little shake of her head as though to say it's not your fault.

Jackwas pacing in his cell. There wasn't much roomin which to pace, but he was tired of sitting.He was thinking hard. He had to get himself out, and the crew as well, and especially his friends. He clenched his jaw. It was his fault they were in danger.

A plan…I need a plan, he thought. Of course, it would've been very helpful if Jack had known where they were going and what the captain was planning to do with him and the others. He didn't even bother trying to find a way out of his cell - What would he do once he escaped it?

After a few hours, the crew and Jack still did not know their destination. Some of the crew fell asleep. The sun was getting low in the sky.

"SQUAWK! Shiver me timbers," said Mr. Cotton's parrot.

"Shut that bird up," said Marshall, whose turn it was to watch Jack's crew.

"The bird is Cotton's mouth," growled Gibbs. "Maybe it's you who should be shuttin' up."

"You lookin' t' walk the plank?" said Marshall angrily.

"That almost sounds fun about now," Gibbs muttered so only Will could hear him. He looked at Will, who looked concerned. "Don' worry, lad. Jack'll think of a way outta this. He always does." Will didn't look at him. Somehow, he wasn't sure Jack would think of something this time.

"You all right, Elizabeth?" Ana Maria asked out of the blue. Elizabeth couldn't remember Ana Maria ever calling her by name.

"Just a bit tired is all," said Elizabeth.

"Jack will get us out of this, girl," said Ana Maria. "I have faith in him. He hasn't let us down yet." Elizabeth looked back at her. I certainly hope so, she thought.

"Land, ho!" A voice shouted from the crow's nest. The crew looked all around them, searching for whatever land they had come to.

Morse walked down from the helm and paced in front of the crew.

"Fetch Sparrow," he said to Marshall, who looked very angry about having to do this task, but got up and went down below just the same. After a few moments, he came back up, pushing Jack in front of him.

"I'm goin', I'm goin," said Jack, annoyed, "no need to poke."

"Come here, Sparrow," said Morse. Jack swaggered cautiously toward him. Morse put a hand on his shoulder.

"That island look familiar to you?" he asked Jack, pointing at an island in the distance.

Jack's eyes widened, a look of realization on his face. "'Ow did you know?"

"I guessed, with a little help from Barbossa," Morse replied. A muscle in Jack's jaw twitched.

"You and a few of your little friends," Morse continued, "will be saying farewell to your crew very soon, Sparrow. And I hope you have a nice little stay on the island." He smiled in a way that gave one the chills.

"No," said Jack. "You…you…" Jack looked as though he was having a vicious internal struggle. "You jus' take the Pearl, an'…an' let us go," he looked at Morse hopefully, "aye?"

Morse laughed in an unpleasant way, then walked back up to the helm. Jack followed him.

"Morse," he said, turning on his charm, "mate, pal, friend, chum." He put an arm around Morse's shoulders. Morse whacked it off as though it were a bothersome fly.

"You wouldn't do this to your old friend, Jack," said Jack, smiling and returning his hand to Morse's shoulder. "C'mon, pirates make deals. Le's make an accord. It'll be joint custody. You'll get the Black Pearl on weekends an' I'll 'ave it the other days o' the week."

"No, I don't think so, Sparrow," said Morse. "Now, it's time to walk the plank. Follow me. And you too boy, Gibbs, wenches."

They all got up and lined up before the plank. Elizabeth had a sad sort of deja vu feeling as she approached the plank and saw the island. Morse gave them back their weapons. They looked at him in awe – why would he give back their weapons?

"I'm a fair man," Morse lied. "An' I have no use for them. Course, you'll find that Sparrow's pistol has no shots in it. I did leave one shot in Gibbs' pistol though."

"Why do I get no shots, then?" Jack asked.

"Because you really, really bother me," Morse answered. "Anyway, I doubt one shot and a few swords will get you off that island."

"You know this ain't goin' to work, mate," Jack said, looking determinedly into Morse's eyes, "after all, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. I'll get off this island justas I've done before."

"I don't think so, Jack," said Morse. "Not unless the sea turtles are as fond of you as I've heard they are." And with that, one by one, they stepped off the Black Pearl and into the water.