Disclaimer: Welcome back, me eager littl' barnacles! The story be gettin' better, ain't it? I've got some excitement fer ye in this chapter, but first the code of the brethren be requiring me teh explain a few things teh ye. I be not the owner of Pirates of the Caribbean, so don' sue me. Ye be waistin' yer money on a very broke buccaneer-author. I do be ownin' anyone ye be not recognizin' from Pirates, though. If ye be not seein' 'em in the movie, they be mine. Ye be not wantin' teh read this, be ye? Thought not. Get ye back teh the story, ye scurvy sea dogs!

Chapter 5

Jack rolled clumsily out of bed, landing with a large thud on the floor of the captain's quarters. Quickly picking himself up, he winced at the sharp pang of pain from his throbbing temples. Outside he could hear the wind in the sails and the splashing of the waves against the hull of the ship. But something didn't sound right—something was missing. Where was the sound of a second ship?

Bursting out of the cabin, he stumbled on deck to find the Cloud Treader alone on the open seas. The Sylph was gone.

Although that was the least of his problems as he recalled the events of the night before.

Reluctantly trudging to the opposite cabin and knocking lightly on the door, Jack stood there for a few minutes in silence. When he began to get impatient, he knocked again, waited another few moments, and then began knocking louder and more insistently until the door finally opened. He was greeted with a death glare from Walter, who merely stared at him as if he had committed some horrible crime.

"I-is the little miss awake?"

"What do you want?"

The absolute sorrow and dejection in the voice that rose from behind Walter tugged at his heart.

Walter slowly stepped aside and let Morgan confront the captain.

She looked as if she had cried all night—her eyes were red and slightly swollen. She wore a beautiful navy blue dress with black trim, white lace peeking out from underneath the collar, sleeves, and skirt. Adorned with gold and pearl jewelry, it was a shame she was so worn—she was lovely. Her skin was especially pale, slight dark bags under her eyes, and the beginnings of a bruise on her right cheek.

Jack's jaw hung open. "What happened?"

"I tripped." Morgan said, refusing to look at him. She began to close the door.

However, Jack jammed his foot into the door. "Morgan, I'm not drunk now, so ye've got to list'n teh me! I swear, I didn't even hint attraction t'wards that woman—she came onteh me 'fore I knew what was happ'nin'!"

"I can hardly believe you weren't attracted to that woman," Morgan murmured, eyes on the floor.

"I wasn't!"

"And why is that?"

"Because I'm busy bein' smitt'n with someone else!"

Morgan's eyes finally met his. She stared at him for a long time before her eyes dropped to the floor once again, ceasing to push against the door.

"Just this once…"

Jack blinked. "What?"

"I'll believe you just this once," Morgan mumbled.

Jack smiled sheepishly. "I s'ppose that'll have teh do…"

To his surprise, Morgan began to sniffle. Feeling he had to comfort her, and rather relieved that she finally believed him, Jack gently reached forward and pulled her into an embrace. She surprised him again when she didn't shy away. On the contrary—she leaned into his welcoming arms and began to cry freely.

Walter was watching him warily, but seemed to be forgiving him as well. That didn't stop Jack from smiling nervously and trying to avoid the butler's gaze. Instead, he ran a comforting hand down Morgan's back and patted her head with the other. "There, there, luv. 'S al'right." Smiling gently, he tilted her chin up and wiped the tears from her eyes with the pad of his thumb. "It's over now. We won't dwell on it anymore, savvy?"

Morgan sniffled, a smile slowly forming on her face. "Savvy."

Jack grinned, his eyebrows going up in surprise. He had to get her to say savvy more often—it was strangely attractive.

Walter cleared his throat, voicing his disapproval.

Releasing her and coughing awkwardly, Jack mentally reminded himself to take a cold bath and quickly turned back to the deck. "Now then, who was on duty las' night?"

"Me an' Rackham were," Gibbs answered.

"Well," Jack gave him frustrated glare, "why didn' ye tell me the Sylph had left?"

"I did." Gibbs said simply.

Jack opened his mouth to reply, paused, and closed it again. "What?"

"I did, cap'n." Gibbs repeated. "I walked right in an' told ye she left, but ye was so drunk ye didn' hear a word I said—kept grumblin' about women bein' impossible." Gibbs chuckled slightly as he recalled the night before. "Ye shouldn't 'ave drunken so much rum wit Flint las' night, cap'n."

"Tha' was nothin'," Jack rolled his eyes and waved the first mate away, dismissing his answer. "Rackham, care teh explain?"

Rackham, who was seated on a nearby barrel, smirked in his direction. "I heard her setting sail, so I tell Gibbs teh go an' tell ye she was settin' off," he explained. "He comes back all amused and a little frustrat'd. He says ye're too drunk teh list'n. So I go down me'self and, sure enough, yer sittin' on yer chair, grumblin' teh yerself about 'the imposs'um and unpresident'd temp'ratur' o' women'," he said with an accent and slurring so like Jack when he was intoxicated that Morgan began to giggle behind the befuddled captain. "I'm assumin' ye meant, 'impossible and unpredict'ble temper'ment o' women', aye cap'n?" his amused smirk widened. "Perhaps ye shouldn't've drunken so much rum—"

"Ye all know I've 'ad more!" he complained. "Can we not blame the rum an' move on?" He was about to relieve both men of their ration of rum for the night when something dawned on him. They couldn't 'ave… He ran into the open door of the captain's quarters and found his jacket, still slung rather messily across a chair. Reaching into the pocket, he found it empty. "Bloody 'ell!"

"What is it?" Morgan ran into the cabin, rather startled by his sudden outburst.

"They took the map!" Jack threw his jacket, as if it had been responsible for the map being stolen, across the room. "I knew we couldn't trust 'em! Didn't I say not teh trust 'em?"

Gibbs nodded on his queue. "Aye, cap'n."

"Knew those scumbags didn' follow the code…" Jack grumbled to himself. "An' teh think I actually drank with 'em…"

"Pirates…" Walter rolled his eyes, "They certainly are predictable."

"How did they know?" Morgan asked in a quiet voice, eyes on the floor as she tried to fathom how this could've happened. "My father kept it in the utmost secrecy…"

"An' yet we found out." Jack raised his eyebrows, giving her a it-wasn't-as-secret-as-you-thought look. "They must'a 'eard about it and trailed us from… Port Royal, Tortuga, anywhere."

Morgan shook her head in disbelief, "…So…what do we do now?"

Jack felt one of his grins returning. "…So it's a race they want, then…"

"What?" Morgan blinked.

Picking up his tricorn from its resting-place on one of the posts of his bed, he felt around the inside lining. And, just where he had left it, there was a slight impression in the worn satin on the inside of the hat. Finding the gap between seams, Jack slipped a single finger in between the leather of the hat and the lining and pulled the object towards the opening. He finally maneuvered the folded piece of paper out of the hat and slowly unfolded it before the eyes of his companions. "Pirate never 'ssumes that the voyage'll go on undisturb'd," he explained in a sly tone. "Never think ye're gonna be the only one out for riches on the open sea. That map looked real' inviting… beggin' other buccaneers to 'come an' get me'."

A smile unfurled on Rackham's face. He couldn't even see what the captain was holding, and yet he was the first to get it.

At about that moment he managed to unfold the entire large sheet of parchment, and held it out for his comrades to stare at. "An' so I made me'self a copy, just in case somethin' 'appened along the way."

Gibbs grinned. "Good idea, cap'n."

Walter simply chuckled.

Morgan gave a single laugh as her stunned stare transformed into a relieved smile. Surprising him for the third time that morning, she threw her arms around him and embraced him tightly. "Jack, you're incredible!"

An amused smile soon replaced the stunned gawk on Jack's face. He chuckled and slipped his arms under hers and, with a sudden heave, lifted her up above his head and began spinning around in his place.

Morgan gasped and grabbed his shoulders reflexively but quickly grew to trust his grip and relaxed, laughing all the while.

It was inevitable that his arms would give in—she was heavier than she looked. Luckily, he managed to catch her and gently set her down. He smirked as he noticed her cheeks turn a light shade of red.

Morgan cleared her throat and looked in every direction except his. "Yes, well… well done, Mr. Sparrow—y-you've saved us a lot of trouble." Noticing the looks she was receiving from the men in the room, she flushed even darker. "W-well, what are we waiting for? We'd best be going—they have a head start on us!" With that she turned and quickly scrambled out of the door.

Jack chuckled, surprised that he had gotten away with so much without being slapped, and followed her out onto the deck.

•••

Running outside, Morgan could feel her heart fluttering wildly in her chest. What's the matter with me? She took a deep breath in an effort to calm herself.

Diverting her attention to the sails, she found fortune granting them with a favorable wind from the west. Jack was walking up behind her—she could recognize his wide, clumsy gait anywhere. "How long will it take us?" she asked over her shoulder.

"Three days," Jack stepped up to her right, his gaze also to the sails. "More if the wind moves from our back."

Morgan's gaze went to the hatch. Was there nothing she could do to speed things up? The Sylph looked like a rather fast ship, and she had a head start on them. She seemed to remember the ship-maker mentioning something about how the Cloud Treader could fly with what he had stowed in the hold, but what was it? As her memory of the conversation returned, she searched for a free hand. "Rackham."

"Aye?" the blind pirate's head rose at the mention of his name.

"Fetch the studding sails, would you?" She asked in a sweet tone, but an order nonetheless.

Rackham stood for a moment, and then seemed to get her idea. "Aye, m'lady," he said with a smirk as he retreated to the hold.

"Studdin' sails?" Jack gave her a rather quizzical look. "This ship ain't got studdin' sails."

"Yes it does," Morgan replied simply.

Jack's shoulders dropped as he withheld a retort. He stood there for a few moments, thinking to himself, before he finally spoke up again. "This ship has studdin' sails?"

Rackham climbed back onto the deck with a large box. Opening it, he began throwing sails to the surprised crewmembers with the accuracy of a man with perfect sight. Either his hearing was very accurate, or he was simply throwing sails and luckily managed to hurl then in the general area of a crewmember.

Jack shook his head, sheepishly smiling in defeat. "A'right, mates! Get those sails up! I want us flyin' on that wind!"

The crew quickly scaled the masts, attaching sails to their designated yards and booms, tying down vangs and then finally unfurling the shimmering white sails in unison. There was a slight jerk as the wind was caught in the studding sails, and the ship flew forward almost faster than the gulls overhead.

Leaning over the port rail, Jack gave a bewildered chuckle. "This is more like it!" He headed back to the helm to make sure they hadn't slipped off course in that slight lurch. "This almost cuts our time in half! 'Gives us two days at most!"

Morgan smiled. Jack seemed to be growing on her, and she didn't really mind at all.

•••

Jack was about to applaud Morgan's cunning when the noblewoman folded her arms and shook her head. "What would you do without me, Jack?"

Find meself half drunk an' cuddled up wit' some burly man named Harry fer comfort… Jack merely smiled, failing to keep the disturbed expression from seeping onto his face, his eye twitching at the image that flashed into his mind.

"A pirate needs help from a noblewoman," Morgan smirked triumphantly. "You've got to be the worst pirate I've ever met."

Walter chuckled in agreement.

Jack could actually feel a chunk fall off of his pride. He didn't understand it—Norrington had said that quite a few times, and he could've cared less, but it was almost painful when she said it. "Now was that called for?" Lucky for him, he had just the thing to get her back with. "Don' make me tell the 'ole crew what I've seen ye do in the wee hours of the night."

Morgan opened her mouth, and then realized what he was hinting at. Walter looked at her quizzically, his disapproving stare making her shrink. She paled and, giving him a deathly glare, spoke up again in a tone much more serious. "You wouldn't dare."

Jack mirrored her triumphant smirk. "Never und'restimit a bad pirate."

Morgan glared at him for a few moments in silence before she finally spoke up again. "What do you want?" She folded her arms. "What bargain can I strike with you to keep you silent?"

Jack thought for a moment, a hand going up to his chin, before finally something came to mind that caused a sly gold-toothed grin to spread over his face. "Kiss me."

The utterly shocked look on Morgan's face both amused and offended him. The blush rising to her cheeks was the only indication that she was not completely repulsed by the action.

Walter, on the other hand, was very perturbed by the idea. He took a step towards Jack, who reflexively backed away before he reminded himself to hold his ground.

Crewmembers began to cheer overhead, hanging on the yards to peer down on the spectacle below them.

Jack lifted an eyebrow cockily. "Do we 'ave an accord?"

Morgan's eyes darted about the ship, as if somewhere on board was something that could save her. Finally she looked back to the grinning pirate captain, a worried, nervous expression on her face. "You're not going to let me out of this, are you?"

Jack merely pulled up a bench and, sitting down, patted the spot next to him. Walter stood next to him, looming over him threateningly. Jack, determined not to be intimidated again, swatted him away. "Sorry, luv. Never play games with a pirate. We don' play by the rules."

Morgan, quite flustered at this point, began taking deep breaths while looking anywhere but at him, apparently mentally reassuring herself. He chuckled to himself at how adorable she was when she was nervous—pacing back and fourth, muttering under her breath as she silently prepared herself, even pulling out a handkerchief and touching her lips with it before finally she faced him. She sent a warning glare his way.

Jack held his hands up in a peaceful gesture, though he couldn't keep the amused grin from his face.

Morgan cautiously approached, sitting down slowly on the bench, her eyes never leaving him for a moment.

More cheers came from above them as the crew began to clap and holler for them to "kiss a'ready".

Morgan shot him a don't-you-dare-do-anything-stupid glare before she shut her eyes, took a deep breath, and then opened them slightly as she began to slowly lean forward.

They were only a hare apart when Jack, not wanting to startle her too much before he did what he planned to, murmured a single word to her to explain himself. "Pirate."

With that, he closed the distance between them, his hands darting up to clutch the sides of her face as he proceeded to kiss her the way he had been taught to by the French.

There came a startled muffled gasp from the noblewoman as her hands shot upwards. But surprisingly enough, she didn't push against him—her hands slowly came to rest on his chest. Jack continued like that for quite a while until finally Morgan mustered up the strength and courage to shove him away.

Bloody 'ell, she tastes good… Jack swallowed and ran his tongue across his lips.

Morgan slid as far to the end of the bench as she could, pulling her handkerchief out to wipe her mouth thoroughly with, a shocked look on her face, her face completely red.

"Not bad, luv," he grinned. "I think I may blackmail ye more oft'n."

The moment he finished that phrase, Morgan's fist—not an open hand, mind you, a fist—slammed into the left side of his face, sending him sailing off the bench onto the deck below.

There came an uproar of amused howls from the crew above them.

Rolling onto his back and managing to sit up, Jack clutched his nose and mouth with his left hand as he looked up to Morgan with dizzy, unfocused eyes. When his world finally came partially back into focus, he smiled and attempted to say something. However, the moment he opened his mouth, the pain finally hit him. All he managed to say was, "…A-…aa-oow!"

•••

"Oh, quit whining." Morgan rolled her. "I pulled that punch."

"Ye almost broke me nose!" Jack whined, "an' who taugh' ye teh pull punches?" Touching the cloth to his bleeding nose, he hissed in pain as he reluctantly held the cold cloth in place.

There was a slight cough behind them. The entire crew turned in unison and looked at Rackham, who was smiling sheepishly. "…Guilty."

He had done a good job teaching her, Gibbs would admit to that. Aside from the shock, the only damage she had done was to split the skin on his nose and the left side of his top lip. The most serious damage had been to Jack's pride.

"You should learn to protect yourself," Morgan smirked, examining her nails to further remind Jack that a woman had crippled his pride.

"I know 'ow to protect me'self," he moaned, gently lifting the cloth from his nose only to wince—thus the accent on the "how"—and delicately return it.

Walter gave a laugh from behind him.

"Against men," Morgan corrected him. "A lot of good a knowledge of sword fighting does in unarmed combat against the women of Tortuga."

Jack's shoulders tensed, memories flooding back to him. "I'll work on it," he said quickly, as if he were trying to think of a way to change the subject. "Well, I'll bet yer noble parents never taught ye how teh defend yerself in armed combat."

Morgan's head tilted up. "No, because it was not necessary."

"When ye're sailin', it's very necessary," Jack said as he removed the cloth from his face, his grin returning, " 'specially when ye're sailin' wit pirates. Lucky fer ye I'm willin' teh teach ye!"

'E's fall'n for 'er a'right… Gibbs smirked as Jack searched the crew for a spare sword for Morgan to train with. 'E's bloody fall'n off a cliff and smash'd into the rocks below…

•••

Jack had the deck was cleared of all rope coils, barrels, and all other items that could get in the way. Morgan took the cutlass Jack handed her with uncertain hands, holding it awkwardly with both hands as she waited for his instructions. Jack started out going through basic blocks and footwork. It was all a little too complex for her, even taking into account the fact that she was wearing a rather large and rather restricting dress. At one point Jack had to step behind her and take a hold of her arms to guide her through the movement. He was far too close, causing her heart to pound in her chest and her cheeks to flush. When he finally stepped away and drew his sword again, Morgan was sure her hands were trembling. Afraid she might accidentally hurt him, she barely put any strength behind her blows and slowed them to the point where Jack could probably even see them coming.

Proving her suspicions true, Jack easily knocked the sword out of her hands. He shook his head. "No mercy, luv—ye won't receive any." With a grin he added one last comment, "Do I need to blackmail ye again?"

Suddenly filled with anger, Morgan tightened her grip on the hilt of her sword and, as Jack turned to retrieve something from the captain's quarters, she threw it at him.

The sword flew through the air and embedded itself right between the door and the frame. Jack went completely still as he noticed the sword mere centimeters from his hand, which rested on the doorknob. He slowly pulled his hand to safety away from the swaying blade of the sword and, after a small pause, grasped the hilt. He tugged hard, but was unable to pull the weapon out, no matter how much he rattled it. Trying the doorknob, he found the door effectively jammed shut. He whirled and stared at her, his shoulders drooping and his arms going out in a questioning gesture. "How do you people do that?"

"I may not be very good with a sword," Morgan cocked her head up, "but I am very good at throwing things, and you do not want to try me."

Gibbs gave an awed whistle.

"Land 'ho!"

Morgan blinked and quickly ran to the bow of the ship, grasping the railing in excitement as she noticed the decently sized island ahead of them. There it is…

Jack was yelling orders to have the anchor dropped and the longboats readied. Not wanting to be left behind, Morgan joined Walter in boarding the nearest dinghy, Jack on her heels, and watched as the mouth of the cave the treasure was supposedly in neared. As the dinghy hit the beach, Jack leapt into the shallow water and, despite Morgan's objections, easily picked her up and carried her to dry land. When he set her down, she quickly distanced herself from him—being too close to him was clouding her mind.

The group cautiously neared the dark cave entrance. Morgan noticed a large stone with a basin carved into the top that connected to a stone channel that continued into the cave, with some sort of fluid inside it. Gibbs had just managed to get a torch lit when she snatched it from his hands. Ignoring his offended, "Hey!" she stepped towards the basin and, looking warily into the black cavern, plunged the torch into the liquid. The fluid instantly ignited, a line of fire darting into the cave until it reached what seemed to be the center of the cavern. There was another burst of fire as the tongue split into six separate arms of flame that raced to their own respective section of the circular cave, until the whole cavern was lit.

Morgan, as well as the rest of the company behind her, gaped in wide-eyed wonder at the spectacular display, as well as what the fire had revealed.

The cave was huge, the walls lined with stone figures of one-eyed heathen gods, the center filled with piles upon piles of gold and other treasures.

The entire motley crew was speechless as they gaped at the trove they had stumbled upon. Morgan could only find a whisper to voice what they all were thinking. "…Whoa…"

•••

On the other side of the island an ominous shadow drifted on the waves. The sun flashed twice as its light reflected off a piece of metal somewhere on a large rock face. The signal reached a single hazel eye searching the rocks through a telescope, causing the owner to smirk victoriously.

"They're 'ere…"

•••

The entrance to the cave itself had two rather forbidding statues on either side of it that made Morgan rather uncomfortable. The large stone guards resembled twenty-foot tall columns that widened as they got taller, forming the abstract body of a giant man with no legs, atop a circular stone base. One large eye had been carved into the face of the statue, and everywhere Morgan stepped, it appeared to be staring at her.

There was an inscription at the base of the right stone guard, one which one of the Indian crewmembers apparently knew how to read. He read it once in its native language, and then, upon receiving blank stares from the rest of the crew, translated. "Welcome you are to the gifts left in this space," he translated, "but as gods of peace, honor this, our sacred place. Basically, take what you want, but draw a weapon and die."

Such a heartwarming message… Morgan's brows furrowed. Well, at least it wasn't, "Touch anything and die"…

Jack slowly approached the stone guards, watching them cautiously as he lifted a foot and took a rather large step over the threshold. There was an uneventful pause. When nothing happened, Jack let out a relieved sigh. " 'S a'right, mates."

Breathing a similar sigh of relief, Morgan, as well as the entire crew, ran into the cave. She looked around her so fast that she had to stop herself to keep from getting dizzy and falling over.

Soon the cave was filled with pirates running about, inspecting various valuables with excited, almost disbelieving expressions on their faces.

Morgan turned to her left to see a sword jutting out of a large stone in the middle of a pile of gold coins, jeweled necklaces, and other trinkets. Stepping up to the blade, she ran a hand across the jeweled hilt. It's just like King Arthur of Camelot, she thought with a smile. Curious to see if she could pull the blade out, she gently grasped the hilt and pulled. There was a loud ping as a ring off the top of the hilt broke off, the rest of the sword stuck too deeply in the stone to budge. Morgan stifled a gasp as she juggled the ring about between her startled hands. She finally managed to catch it and, clutching it close to her chest, glanced about her to make sure no one had seen that.

It was then that she noticed a large blue-violet orb hovering above a gold altar on the opposite end of the cave to her right. It was beautiful—it seemed to glow like ocean water when the sun shone on it, thought there was no sunlight in the cavern. She swore she could hear the ebb and flow of the ocean currents and the crash of waves against the hull of a ship.

The feel of the ring in her hands snapped her back to reality. She had more important things to do—like figure out how to fix the sword. She placed the ring atop the hilt, in the spot where it had once sat, but it wouldn't stay. Almost slamming it onto the hilt, she tried jamming it back into place, she tried twisting it back on, but it was no good—it was broken for good. Oops…

•••

Through the entrance crept thirteen shadowy figures, each one low to the ground and as far from the fiery channel as possible. One of the shadows, whose clothes glimmered silver in the firelight, looked to the group's leader, and then to where his eyes had drifted. He was looking at that woman again—that damned woman… Slipping across the threshold and behind a large boulder, the slender figure snarled and drew her pistol.

•••

There came a loud thud behind her that made Morgan jump and almost drop the ring in her hands. She slipped the gold ring into the front of her dress and hesitantly turned around to see nothing but the large stone guard before her. But something was different—the mouth was open, revealing a large, dark square opening.

Strange… I don't remember that being open before…

The engraved outline of its single eye suddenly began to glow, the iris a chilling yellow-green.

Morgan felt her blood freeze, her eyes widening as her mouth opened in a silent gasp. It wasn't…!

The statue suddenly let out a loud, deep howl that hung between human and monster with such force that it shook Morgan to the core, and then began to fall forward, its eye fixed on her. She could barely scream before it came crashing to the ground.

•••

Jack felt his heart leap from his chest to his throat as the statues around them opened their stone mouths and howled low, inhuman cries and began to fall forward, bent on taking Jack's men down with them. Over the loud howling echoing throughout the chamber, he could hear a familiar feminine scream. Morgan! "Our welcome's run out, mates!" He shouted to the crew. "Get outta 'ere, now!"

•••

Morgan groaned and opened her eyes to be greeted with the unnerving stare of the stone guard, now joining her on the cave floor. The behemoth gave another howl that sent her jumping to her feet and away with a gasp, and then the stone guard began shake, as if it would stop at nothing to crush her, even if it had to roll her over. However, Morgan was not about to give it that chance, and she turned and rushed towards the entrance as fast as she could.

•••

A loud rumbling joined the howls as the floor began to shake, the cave beginning to collapse around them.

As the rest of the crew ran towards the cave exit, Jack and Walter remained to search the cave frantically for Morgan. The pirate captain caught sight of a blue-violet orb hovering above a gold altar at the far end of the cave. The sounds of the ocean filled his ears as he stared at the luminescent orb. However, a falling rock shattering the sphere like glass shook him from his trance and returned him to his search for his noblewoman companion. "Morgan!"

"Jack!"

Jack felt relief course through him as he saw his beloved noblewoman dashing towards him.

She was barely ten feet in front of him when he noticed the white and gray-clad woman from the Sylph—Regina, he believed it was—stand from behind a rock, pistol drawn. "That's far enough!"

The gunshot that followed echoed loudly through the chamber, causing his heart to skip a beat, time slowing to a muddy crawl. Morgan's eyes locked with him the moment the bullet ripped through her left side, blood spraying outwards as the bullet continued on its path, missing him by centimeters. The shocked look on her face, in her eyes—those lovely miss-matched eyes—tore at his heart, burning the image forever into his mind. She slowly fell forward, still moving towards him, still reaching out to him. She was so close to him when she had been shot that she managed to reach him, knocking him over as well. The instant she touched him time returned to its normal flow and he toppled backwards, landing on his backside, Morgan atop him.

His world spun as his head hit the stone floor below him. Forcing himself up onto his elbows, he found it extremely hard to sit up. Perhaps it was because of the dead weight lying on his chest. Morgan…

Regina smirked triumphantly moments before Walter's fist slammed into her face, sending her head whipping to the side. She recovered and tried to aim her pistol at the butler, but he was already grabbing her wrist and forcing it above her head. The two wrestled for a while before Regina managed to backhand Walter with her free hand and shoved him away.

There was another gunshot. Jack winced, but opened his eyes when he didn't feel the pain hit him, nor hear the sound of Morgan's loyal servant being hit.

The silver-clad pirate lass blinked, astonished, as blood began to soak her bodice from a wound above her left breast. The pistol dropped from a trembling hand, as Regina stumbled to her knees and then dropped to the ground.

Finally finding the strength to move, Jack rolled Morgan onto her back, pulling her over his lap. He brushed a lock of hair from her face, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly until finally he managed to choke out, "…Morgan…"

There were shouts all around him, but it was as if they were all under water. He could barely hear someone calling his name.

"…Morgan…?" He said in a coaxing tone, clinging to the hope that she might still be alive. "Morgan?" When she didn't answer, he felt his hopes shatter. With trembling hands he wrapped his arms around the limp shoulders of the woman in his lap, clutching her close to his chest.

The rumbling around him was muffled and muted. He didn't even notice when a large rock just missed the two of them. The shouts became more desperate, but no more audible than before.

Suddenly there was a cough from underneath him. He gasped and looked down to find Morgan wince in pain and cough weakly. "What are you waiting for? Go!" She choked out.

Finding his limbs suddenly filled with a new strength, Jack lifted the wounded woman into his arms and sprinted towards the exit, where Gibbs and Rackham were waiting. He was nearly there when the mouth of the cave began to collapse. Suddenly two strong hands grabbed the pirate's coat and, as Jack glanced over his shoulder to find it was Walter, the butler nearly threw the captain forward and out of the cave. Both men flew out of the mouth of the cavern just as it collapsed, sealing its treasure in the earth forever.