Disclaimer: POTC isn't mine. Yeah, I don't feel particularly funny today. Sorry. ... arr?

A/N: Thankyou to everyone who reviews. You guys rock. This chapter contains a lot of thing my readers have suggested, so… thanks to everyone who contributed! Reviews will be LOVED.

In the spirit of explaining what happened in the movie, this chapter looks at why Jack was so far ahead and all by himself when they arrived at Isla Cruces. I mean, really... LIZ HAD THE COMPASS. She was s'posed to be leading the way! So. There. I'm dun rantin'. Read the chapter, and leave me a review. Thanks.

"Is there any particular reason why you didn't want to wait for us, luv?"

Squirrel looked over her shoulder before she could stop herself. Jack was right behind her, a shovel slung over one shoulder, his other arm swinging free. Norrington and Elizabeth were further back; doll-sized figures, a fair distance between them and Jack. Jack's footprints were the trail that Elizabeth and the former commodore were following; Jack, in turn, had been following Squirrel's.

"Is there a reason you're not waiting for Elizabeth?" Squirrel asked coolly, turning back and putting a bit more speed into the plodding pace she'd been holding.

Jack kept up easily beside her. "Oo-er," he muttered, "Something's pissed Miss Grey off." His tone was light and jokey - it turned serious when Squirrel refused to grant Jack a smile. "Alright, what did I do this time?"

"I don't know what you mean," Squirrel said, deliberately forcing the lightness of her words, just as Elizabeth had done. Squirrel half-expected Jack's reply to be in Norrington's voice, with that same smirk: Oh, I think you do…

"Well, what about you?" Jack asked. "What do you mean?" He tried to step in front of her, to grin that charming smile at her. She ducked around him, and then continued on her course, her eyes firmly fixed on the skyline.

"She's the one with the compass, Jack," Squirrel said, crossing her arms and hunching her shoulders forward, her feet never faltering. "Why aren't you following her?"

Jack sighed. "Alright, that's enough." He stopped walking, and Squirrel - tied to him as she was - stopped too. Jack stepped in front of her, and pinned her with his eyes. Squirrel - though indignant and wounded by betrayal - had the courage to return his gaze. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Jack broke the silence.

"Is there something the matter, luv?"

Squirrel felt herself go red, but somehow knew the colour wasn't going to show. She'd felt the sun beat down on her long enough to know she was not longer as pale as she'd been before. "No," she said, smiling falsely. "Nothing's the matter." As an afterthought, she added, "But thankyou for answering my question."

Jack spun the shovel on his shoulder, looking warily at Squirrel. "Your question?"

"The one I asked you in your cabin," Squirrel continued to wear that smile.

Jack paused, his lips perking briefly in a smile. "You'll have to be a little more specific, luv."

Squirrel didn't blush - she was too angry. In the corner of her eye Squirrel still could see the faint outline of Jack's hand on her arm. But it was fading, fading under the colour from the sun - soon her skin would be sun-browned, the burns barely noticeable. "About whether I mean anything to you. About what I'm worth." Squirrel felt herself choking on the words, but still smiled, the smile staying false.

"Oh?" Jack said, raising a teasing eyebrow. "And what are you worth, then, luv?"

Squirrel banished the smile, tired of wearing a mask. "Nothing," she spat. "Absolutely nothing." She turned away from Jack and stared out stubbornly at the coast. The heart lay just ahead, she could feel it.

She could swear she could hear it pulsing in her ears.

"That's not true, and you know it." Jack put out a hand to stop her, but she moved too quick for him to catch a hold of her. "Come on, luv. What's prompted this?"

A bitter laugh burst out of Squirrel; she tossed her head rather than look him Jack the eye. "Oh, please. As if you don't know." After a pause, Squirrel was able to look him in the eye. Hurt now, instead of angry, she whispered, "I saw you kiss her."

"Who?" Jack looked genuinely perplexed for a moment, then the expression was gone, lost behind his usual mask of charming arrogance. "Elizabeth?" He gave a short bark of laughter.

Squirrel didn't see what was so funny. "Yes. Elizabeth. Not too long after you asked me to stay with you." She controlled the tears, but she couldn't control the pained expression or the twist of her mouth. "And I'm glad I didn't, if you forget me so quickly."

"Funny," Jack spun the shovel again, grinning, "From the way you took off, I thought you weren't interested."

Squirrel pressed her lips together firmly, though she wanted more than anything to speak the truth. I did want to stay. I did. But I knew… I couldn't… If her arms weren't folded, she would have pulled at her hair or fiddled with her amulet out of habit.

Jack tilted his head, still grinning, still staring right at her. "This is very irrational of you, luv. Very uncharacteristically irrational of you." He blinked slowly, almost coquettishly. "Is there something you'd like to share with me?"

"No." Squirrel smiled falsely again. "I'm just glad to know I don't matter to you, is all."

Jack's smile vanished. "I didn't kiss her, luv. She didn't give me the chance."

Squirrel paused a moment, frowning. Did she believe him? She wanted to believe him. With all her heart, she wanted to believe him. But then, if Jack didn't kiss Elizabeth… was it due to Elizabeth that they had been so close? Was it Elizabeth who had wanted to kiss Jack, and he who had turned away? How dare she… Squirrel almost smiled in gratitude at Jack, glad to have him true to her, until the effect of his words sank in.

"But you would have taken that chance," Squirrel said bitterly, "If you could have."

Jack's smile died on his lips; he shrugged, nonchalantly. "Maybe. Maybe not. Why does it matter?"

Squirrel closed her eyes a moment, shielding herself from the man who stood before her. A moment passed. Then she looked up again. "Exactly," she said softly. "I don't matter." She turned to go.

"Oh, I see it now." His words slithered over her like a python. "You're jealous, luv. Is that what this is?" He moved around her, grinning and swaying in place. Squirrel was unable to move, held in place by his gaze and his voice. "You've gone all green-eyed." Jack grinned, his teeth bright and golden in the sun. "Is this why you wanted to know what you're worth?" He waited, swaying, grinning, for an answer.

Squirrel couldn't look away, but she didn't want to speak either.

"And why," he continued, standing at her side, "Would you be jealous, hrm? Do you… fancy me, do you?" He leant down, his face near hers - nowhere near as close as before, however. "Give me an honest answer, luv. You're good at that." He paused, grin widening persuasively. "Come on, luv. Just one honest answer. D'ye fancy me?"

Squirrel looked at Jack, trapped. So she said the only thing she could. "How much further, Elizabeth?"

The young woman was right beside her. "I'm not sure," she frowned over the compass. "We just keep on this heading and we'll reach it eventually." She looked up, half-smiling at Squirrel. Her eyes clicked to Jack, iron to a lodestone, before she looked hurriedly - embarrassed - down at the compass. Elizabeth then hurried on, focused on the compass she held. Norrington - keeping pace with Elizabeth, the shovel over one shoulder - looked briefly at the tableau between Jack and Squirrel: Jack grinning and self-assured, and Squirrel blank-faced but emotions churning in her eyes. Whatever Norrington thought, he kept to himself. But a smile did tweak the corners of his lips when he made eye contact with Squirrel.

Jack waited until both Elizabeth and Norrington were a few paces away before whispering to Squirrel, "Honest to a fault." Then he swaggered off, a new spring in his step, and a jaunty tune in his whistle. As he went, Squirrel was struck by the character of his walk.

He knew all along.

Squirrel flushed as she was left behind. Jack had known all along. Jack had known Squirrel adored him from afar. Jack had known, he had known, he had known. Squirrel cursed her stupidity. Of course he would know. Why wouldn't he? Squirrel had thought she'd been subtle about it, but her face was an open book, readable to all. Especially to the man to whom she turned her face to more often than not. And hadn't she said it herself? "I would do anything for you." If that wasn't obvious, what was?

I played my hand so badly. I've let that kohl-smeared, gold-toothed rogue get the better of me so many times. She sighed to herself, then admitted: But I still love him. I can't help it.

She had to force her feet to move. She wasn't going to be left behind. She still had to get the heart of Davy Jones. She may have lost this hand, but she was still a player in this game. She picked up her pace and moved swiftly across the sand.

I need the heart.

Squirrel's fingers reached into the pouch at her belt, then pulled out the first card she found. It was the Ace of Diamonds… again. That was no help. But she kept it in her fingers. It's better than nothing. If she wanted to find the heart, she'd need a more precise instrument than superstition or instinct. She'd need the compass.

It didn't take long for Squirrel to catch up with the rest of the group. Squirrel looked at the Ace of Diamonds once more as she crossed through the sandbank, trying to divine some meaning from the card. But nothing sprang to mind. Small wonder - it was just a drawing on a piece of paper. Squirrel lowered the card, disheartened. As she looked up, though, she was struck by a sense of ironic symmetry. She stood opposite Elizabeth; Norrington stood opposite Jack. The governor's daughter opposite the daughter of a trader; the pirate king opposite the former commodore. Four points, the cardinal points, two pairs, two sets of opposites making a whole… Then Elizabeth moved forward, and the symmetry was lost. But still something nagged at Squirrel. I'm missing something. I'm overlooking something. But what? Whatever it was, it wasn't in the cards…

Elizabeth criss-crossed the sands, frowning at the compass. Back and forth she walked, searching, searching…

The heart was close. So close, so close. But where? Squirrel closed her eyes, ignoring the sound of Elizabeth pacing impatiently. She ignored the sounds of the wind and the sea, and listened instead for the pulsing sound that denoted a heartbeat.

Instead, a shadow passed through her mind, and she nearly gasped from the sudden splash of cold fear. The Flying Dutchman! Squirrel's eyes flew open, and she scanned the sea with alarm. It was here, she could feel it… but where? Wherever it was, it was close. Too close. Squirrel shivered, rubbing her arms despite the heat of the day.

The compass rattled as Elizabeth shook it, drawing Squirrel's attention away from the sea. "It doesn't work!" Elizabeth threw the compass down in a petulant fit of anger. "And it certainly," she said, some manner of controlled hysteria in her voice, "Doesn't show you what you want." She sat cross-legged on the sand and stared out into the distance, brooding.

A sudden snatch of wind blew the card from Squirrel's hand. The Ace of Diamonds fluttered through the air, coming to land beside the compass in the sand. Jack stood over both the card and the compass. Squirrel made to leap forward and reclaim the card, but something stopped her. She frowned at the card, something niggling in the back of her mind. Four points to a compass? Only four?

"Yes, it does," Jack said, frowning at the compass. "You're sitting on it."

Elizabeth looked up, frowning. "Beg pardon?"

Jack motioned with his hands, urgent and demanding. "Move." Elizabeth scrambled to her feet; Jack whistled to Norrington, motioning for the former commodore to come and start digging. Judging from his expression, Norrington was none too pleased about having to take orders from the man he'd once tried to capture, but he started digging nonetheless.

Squirrel crossed the sands, and picked up both the compass and the card while the others were distracted. The card she slipped back into her belt pouch. But the compass she held in her burned hand and examined closely. It spun, the point wavering and circling.

What do you want? The cold metal asked her.

Squirrel snapped the lid shut, her eyes burdened. I don't know, she thought sadly, looking up at Jack. I don't know. She looked at the sand Norrington was displacing, at the hole that was forming, then turned her eyes seawards, adding her sigh to the wind. With her free hand, she fingered the silver-and-iron of her amulet. She watched the sea, alert for signs of Davy Jones and his crew, but only half-heartedly. She was delving too deeply into her own thoughts.

I need the heart of Davy Jones. If I have it, I can free Will. With Will free, he and Elizabeth can go back to Port Royal, unhindered and unharmed, and with my blessing. With the heart, I can free Jack from his bargain, and he can keep his precious ship… and his life, which he holds in such high regard. With the heart, I can…

I can… what?

Distracted in where her thoughts were leading, Squirrel paused. What do I want the heart for? I don't want for anything. … Do I?

My name. My past. And, she looked towards Jack, where he sat meditating on the bank, I want him to love me.

You can't have everything, a voice told her, cold and pragmatic. Besides, you can't use the heart of Davy Jones to change how Jack feels about you.

Squirrel frowned. No. But with the right leverage, anything's possible.

You want to force Jack to love you? What kind of love is that?

It's not love at all. Squirrel sighed, defeated by her own logic. Love is patient, she reminded herself, remembering her mother's words. She smiled sadly at the sitting form of Jack. Her bruised and battered heart was still honest and true despite its wounds. It was still patient, kind, humble, selfless, trusting, loyal, and would remain so. The bruises would fade. She would wait. She still loved him.

And I always will. Come hell or high water.

Her eyes caught sight of Jack left hand, and her eyes widened. Even from the way Jack's hand was curled, the index finger and thumb pinching the air, it was unmistakable. The black spot was there, cupped in his palm.

The black spot? But how? Davy Jones wouldn't go back on his promise - he stood to gain ninety-nine more crewmen to crew his damned ship. Davy Jones wouldn't go back on his word…

Unless the deal was broken on Jack's end, and Davy Jones no longer stood to gain from Jack's bargain.

Squirrel frowned, alarmed. Had Davy Jones discovered they were seeking the heart? Impossible. The only way that would be was if…

Will.

Squirrel's heart fluttered, and her breath caught in her throat. Jack had sent Will over to get the key. Had Will somehow managed to retrieve it? Squirrel had thought Will a prisoner all this time - now she feared for him anew. If he'd been able to get the key, had he been able to keep a hold of it? Had he been able to escape? Was he even still alive? She looked out at the sea and clasped her hands in a frightened prayer. Please, be safe, William.

Thunk.

Squirrel's head and thoughts turned at the sound of the shovel hitting something more solid than sand. She hurried back, gathering with Elizabeth, Jack and Norrington around the hole. All four of them peered down into the hole that had been dug… then, each of them knelt down, feverishly sweeping aside the sand. Four sets of hands brushed at the chest, urgently, hurriedly. When it was clear, Jack and Norrington took hold of opposite ends of the chest, and heaved it up out of the hole and onto the sand. The lid opened easily, the lock rusted through from years and years of misuse. Slowly, Jack opened the lid.

The first thing Squirrel saw were the roses. Old and dried, they were bound with ribbon. The blooms might have been red once, perhaps even pink. Now they were bleached and desiccated. Squirrel reached out a hand, and brushed one of the flowers with a gentle finger, her eyes soft with pity. You really loved her, didn't you, she thought, tears swimming in her vision. The petals shattered, blowing away with the wind. Squirrel withdrew, alarmed.

Elizabeth had picked up a letter, one of many. The chest was full of them; the paper was yellowed and the ink was faded. A necklace of pearls lay atop these letters; this necklace slid under them like a sunken ship sliding under the waves as Jack rifled through chest, searching, searching. Norrington merely clung to the edge of the chest, his hands gripping tight, his eyes intense and clouded. Elizabeth looked up from the letter she'd been reading, her eyes liquid, and met Squirrel's. Gingerly, Elizabeth folded the letter up again - the wax seal useless from the heat and the time - and placed it back into the chest.

Jack's face was warily triumphant as he pulled a grey box from the depths of the wooden chest. Eyes turned and locked to the chest like compass points to the north. The designs on the box were intricate - curling waves, seaweed, and what appeared to be snakes. And on the front of the chest, a heart shape… and a keyhole.

Is this it? Squirrel stared. Is this the chest that contains the heart of Davy Jones?

With the others, she leaned forward, and placed her ear on the box. Norrington's breath was on the back of her neck, and Jack's breath brushed her lips, but she did not redden. Squirrel's eyes locked with Jack's, and his with hers - there was such a terrible hope in his eyes, as though if what he were seeking were both his boon and his bane…

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

Squirrel drew back, startled, but fascinated. "It's alive…" She whispered, scarce able to believe it.

"It's real," Elizabeth said, just as shocked.

Norrington gave a short snort of laughter, and looked at Jack incredulously. "You actually were telling the truth."

Jack looked indignant. "I do that a lot," he said. His eyes turned to Squirrel, and there was a sardonic twist to his words, "Yet people are always surprised."

Squirrel pulled a face, and her mouth formed a retort she never got to utter.

"With good reason!"

The pirate, the governor's daughter, the lookout and the former commodore all turned to the speaker. Staggering out from the sea, weary but triumphant, was William Turner.

And he looked every inch of him a hero.

"Will!" Elizabeth leapt to her feet and flew across the sand, arms wide and joyous. Will embraced her, enclosed her in his arms, tenderly and with relief. The young lovers were reunited at last.

Norrington and Jack rose beside Squirrel, like two Greek columns. Squirrel rose too, smiling at Will. He's alive. He's alright. She sighed, relieved, though not as much as Miss Swann. And the number is right, Squirrel realised. The dice - I picked a five. The dice and the shape of the diamond. There are five of us now. All five of us. The players are all in the game. That was what she'd been missing. All the pieces are in place… so now what?

Elizabeth clung to Will, staring up at him in adoration. "You're alright! Thank God! I came to find you!" She stood up to him; Will held her close. Their lips met in a kiss, and they clung to each other, strong and passionate.

Squirrel ducked her head in order to give the two some privacy. I'd like a happy ending like that someday, she thought wistfully.

The compass in her hand clicked, and Squirrel looked down, surprised. She received a greater surprise when she saw the direction that the compass was pointing. Flushing and confused, her heart fluttering in her chest, she snapped the compass closed again, hoping that no-one had seen what she'd seen. Wondering if she herself could believe what she saw.

The Ace of Diamonds was an apt card to draw.

Squirrel looked sidelong at the men standing either side of her. Norrington had his head bowed, his face saddened. You loved Elizabeth, didn't you, Squirrel remembered, You let her go. But you still love her. Jack, strangely enough, had a similar expression on his face. Squirrel looked to him, trying not to let the hurt show. Jack saw her gaze, and grinned teasingly. But there was melancholy in his eyes - for something he had lost, perhaps? For the chance he didn't take?

Or, Squirrel wondered, feeling her own thoughts echoed, for a similar love? A love you can call your own?

The lovers broke away from their kiss, though Will still held Elizabeth tight in his arms, and she still held him.

"How did you get here?" Jack asked, all trace of previous emotion well-masked.

Will's lips twisted in a wry smile, but he said with all seriousness: "Sea turtles, mate. A pair of 'em, strapped to my feet."

Squirrel laughed under her breath. Jack had the good grace to keep a straight face in return. "Not so easy, is it."

Will's smile vanished, and there was something cold in his eyes. "But I do owe you thanks, Jack." He stepped forward, pulling something from his belt.

"You do?" Jack frowned, wary.

Will was visibly angry now. "After you tricked me onto that ship to square my deal with Jones…"

"What!" Elizabeth's head snapped to Jack, murder in her eyes.

"What?" Jack echoed in falsetto, trying and failing to appear innocent. Norrington snorted with laughter; Squirrel felt the bottom drop out of her stomach.

"… I was reunited with my father," Will finished, taking Elizabeth into his arms again, with something curled in one hand.

"Oh," Jack smiled sheepishly, "Well, you're welcome then."

Elizabeth broke away from Will and strode across the sand towards Jack, her eyes aflame. "Everything you said to me," she said, her voice halfway between a shout and a hiss, "Every word was a lie!"

"Pretty much." Jack winced and shrugged. "Time and tide, luv."

Squirrel sighed. Never trust a pirate. He saw an opportunity and took it, damn the consequences. And damn whether anyone else felt guilty about it.

Will caught Squirrel's attention, and threw something at her. Squirrel caught it one handed, frowning at Will curiously. It was the pouch, the one Squirrel had given to Will the night he'd been taken by the Dutchman. It had been full before, and now, it was empty. Will smiled slightly, mouthing a silent 'thank you'. Squirrel smiled back, ducking her head in acknowledgement. I knew it would come in handy. Her smile faded when she saw the knife he held in one hand, and the key in the other. Will's eyes were fixed on the chest.

"Oi," Jack had noticed too, "What are you doin'?"

Will knelt down before the chest, like a man at prayer. The knife glinted in the sunlight. "I'm going to kill Jones." Squirrel didn't even have time to draw a breath before Jack's sword was levelled at Will's throat.

"Can't let you do that, mate," Jack said, his voice frighteningly steely. "'Cause if Jones is dead, who's to call his terrible beastie off the hunt, eh?"

Will bowed his head, bitter and defeated. He rose to his feet, stepping back and sheathing the knife at his belt.

"Now, if you please," Jack held out his hand, his eyes cold. "The key."

Will scowled at Jack, then moved, his arms fluid and fast. Elizabeth's sword slipped from its sheath, balanced cleanly in Will's hand; Elizabeth leapt back, alarmed by the speed and the violence Will had displayed.

"I keep the promises I make, Jack!" Will spat, angered, the key clutched in his left hand. "I intend to free my father, and I hope you're here to witness it!"

His father? Squirrel looked between both men, alarmed. Will's father? The one who had been thrown overboard when the curse of the Aztec gold was in place? He was alive? She stepped forward, words of mediation on her tongue and her hands out in supplication, but leapt back with a yelp as a third blade scissored the air, pointed at Will.

"I can't let you do that either," Norrington's voice was cold and calm. "So sorry," he added insincerely.

"I knew you'd warm up to me," Jack grinned, stepping towards the former commodore. The swords cut the air again - Will's pointed at Norrington, Norrington's pointed at Jack. Jack lifted his blade to Will again - as an afterthought - looking confused.

"Lord Beckett desires the content of that chest," Norrington snarled. "I deliver it, I get my life back."

"Ah," Jack smiled, his eyes knowing, "The dark side of ambition."

Norrington tilted his head with a smirk, a man with the upper hand. "Oh, I prefer to see it as the promise of redemption."

She'd always looked for the good in everyone, but this declaration was to Squirrel a betrayal far too harsh. An officer of the King's Navy is meant to be above reproach, above corruption. Yet here was Norrington, demanding the Devil's due. "You coward!" Squirrel stared in horrified disgust. Her statement prompting a surprised - and somewhat saddened - glance from Norrington. Squirrel ignored him, stepping instead towards the raised swords. "It d-doesn't need to be this way!" She said, trying to calm everyone. "I'm s-sure we can c-come to some kind of agreement!"

"I don't doubt it," Jack grinned, looking between Will and Norrington. Suddenly, he swung his sword; Norrington parried; Will pushed Squirrel out of harm's way as the two swords came down towards her, and used his own sword as a shield, blocking and them pushing Norrington and Jack back, back and away. Squirrel scrambled in the sand, trying to get back to her feet. The three men moved so fast, so smoothly; their swords seemed like extensions of themselves. Steel clashed and rang, the three men circling each other like hawks.

"Stop it!" Elizabeth shouted. She, like Squirrel, was ignored.

The melee continued. There were no allies in this fight, no friends, nothing but swords and anger. Whatever the case, whoever was fighting, it was two against one - and the odds changed all the time. Squirrel felt dizzy just watching them, trying to decide who she should be helping… Wondering if she even could. Or should.

Will tripped and fell, losing his balance in the sand. Jack - claiming the key - ran off over the beach, Norrington in hot pursuit.

"Will!" Elizabeth ran and knelt at Will's side, concerned and distressed.

Will barely looked at her. "Guard the chest!" He barked, then leapt to his feet and chased after the pirate and the commodore.

Elizabeth stared after him, incredulous and then angry. "No!" She shouted, and leapt up, running at Will's heels.

Squirrel looked back over her shoulder, to where the chest of Davy Jones crouched in wait. It would be so easy. So easy. It was unguarded, unprotected…

She could take it. Take it and use it as the bargaining chip. She could help all those who needed help, and then some. But is the heart really all that important to me? She wondered, hearing the shouts and snarls of the swordfight down the beach. The compass she clutched tight in her hand was oddly cold despite the heat of the sun. Is the heart of Davy Jones what I really want? In an instant, she made up her mind, and flew across the sand towards her goal.

Squirrel left Davy Jones' heart behind, and heeded her own heart's call instead.