To find Jack Sparrow, Barbossa enchanted a bullet - the bullet, the one Jack had carried for ten years and then used to commit his first coldblooded murder ever - and followed it for four days. They were sailing deeper and deeper into the murky, corpse-encrusted seas beyond the lands of the living, and the crew was starting to get antsy. What if they couldn't find their way back? What if Jack was located on one of these dismal islands they sometimes passed by, what then? Would they be expected to actually get off this ship and venture out on foot? And how long more would the food and water last (not long)?

Eventually the bullet bobbed up to one of the islands, where it was too close for the And Back to follow. Barbossa frowned but didn't take long to decide.

"We didn't come all this way to go home empty-handed. Lower a boat." Because he could hear the crew making unhappy grumbling noises, he added, "Oh, stow it! I'll go. I'll need just one of you to not be a coward, for a change. Who's coming with me?"

As Barbossa had feared, only Elizabeth and Will stepped forward with anything resembling enthusiasm. He thought it too dicey to choose a dead man as his sole companion rowing through these waters, so he jerked his head in Elizabeth's direction. "You. Let's go."

"Why?" Will demanded. "Why her and not me?"

"Because she doesn't ask stupid questions like why," Barbossa sneered. "Now, miss, into the boat. As for the rest of ye, Gibbs is in charge. Unless he turns yellow – then heave him overboard and it's Turner."

Elizabeth obeyed, trying not to look too satisfied with herself. The pirate made to follow her over the railing, but before he swung his second leg over he was stopped by a loud: "Barbossa!"

He made a face, then turned to face the boy's misguided fury. "If anything happens to Elizabeth," Will hissed, voice low and vibrating with uncontrollable emotion, "I swear to you, I will-"

Barbossa grabbed a handful of his shirt and dragged him close. "You're wastin your breath, Mr. Turner," he growled down Will's throat. "If anythin happens to Elizabeth, it means I'm dead already." He shoved Will backwards, gratified to see him go sprawling ass-first onto the deck, then dropped down the rest of the way. He landed crouched down on one knee. A nod to Elizabeth and they shoved off.

Will watched him, hating him intensely for his theatrics. Bad enough to have to compete with Jack Sparrow and all his idiocy, but now this? "Show-off," he snarled, watching the graceful sway of Barbossa's feathered hat. "Bloody pirate."

"I have to row?" Elizabeth asked in disbelief, forgetting her resolution not to question his orders.

"Well, we have a choice. I could row now if you prefer. And then, later, when the boat's carrying three of us and we're perhaps pursued by some kind of demon of the deep, then it'll be your turn. How about that? Hmm?"

Elizabeth glared at him. "Point taken," she said sullenly. "We'll save you for when we need to move. For now you can just – mmm – sit back and – mmph – enjoy the scenery."

"Oh, I will. Now save your breath for the oars. And put your back into it." He generously pretended not to hear her mutinous mumblings.

They found Jack in a dismal little nook, almost a cave. They rowed right up to him and without really thinking about it Elizabeth reached out to pull him aboard.

She touched the water. Immediately it grew a little choppier and the waves lapped a little more greedily at the boat. As if they somehow knew that it was the only thing between the swamp and two live people.

She withdrew her hand and whispered, "Sorry. Let me try that again, I'll be more careful this t- No!"

The rippling water had stirred up all the human debris, and Jack shifted a bit so that was no longer within easy reach. He was now beneath someone's dead bloated leg, and Elizabeth decided to act before he got away any further. She plunged her hand into the cold not-quite-water and made a grab for him.

Not only did he slip through her fingers, but touching the water churned it up so badly that Jack disappeared completely and the boat rocked to near a capsize.

"Now what? What do I do?" she squealed in a panic.

"Nothin." Barbossa ripped off his coat and hat. "I didn't want to chance this but now we've got no choice. Elizabeth...if the waters take me..." he paused and she steeled herself not to roll her eyes at whatever courageous Will-like pronouncement was about to leave his mouth. "You had better make an excellent effort to get me back."

"No!" It was out before she could stop herself. She struggled out of her swordbelt and shoes while she explained, "Don't go - it would be safer for me to do it, we already know how the waters react to me. It'll make for messy weather but they won't try to suck me in while I'm alive - and we don't know what would happen to you."

The water was quieting, so Barbossa took a moment to look Elizabeth up and down while he decided. "How well can ye swim?"

"This from a man who made me walk the plank," Elizabeth commented wryly. "I swim well enough." He had already seen enough of her in chemise to last a lifetime, so she saw no reason not to divest herself of her flowing pirate shirt before she jumped. "If I need to swim carrying him I'd rather not be weighed down by that thing as well," she explained.

"Perhaps it would help if you took off the pants, too." Elizabeth glared at him over her shoulder, then bent down to see if she could get a better idea of where Jack had got to underneath all the other bluish corpses.

As she did, though, her hair brushed the water and it started to froth again.

"Go before we lose him!" Barbossa was suddenly right behind her. "Dive!" He put his hands on her hips and fairly threw her over the side. She hit the water head-first, arms held out in front of her the way Jack had shown her, with her eyes squeezed shut.

Once she was under, she kicked blindly down and forwards, approximating the place she expected Jack to be. She tried once to open her eyes, but could see nothing at all in the inky water, so the only way to tell the bodies apart was - shudder - touch.

Soon she was running out of air. She was deep underwater and hadn't found Jack and wasn't even sure she would be able to carry him once she did. Just as she was about to give up and strike for the surface, her fingers brushed up against something small and hard. A string of beads.

Her body was starting to panic, but Elizabeth forced herself to touch a little longer. Hair. The beard. It was Jack.

Only now, when she tried to move him, did Elizabeth realize how very close she was to drowning. She needed to breathe. She kicked her legs, holding him tight around the waist as she swam for the surface.

But she couldn't make it. Her lungs were hitching with the need to inhale and finally she lost control and took in a huge gulp of water. She thrashed wildly with the last of her strength, let go of the body she was carrying, and found that her head had cleared the surface just when she thought it was all over.

She gasped in and coughed out once, twice, and a third time. Knowing that Jack could be sinking deeper every second she waited, she took in the best breath she could manage with her burning lungs, shoved an old woman's body out of her way, and went down after him.

The second time she came up, she had Jack with her. He was still totally limp, heavy, and she didn't think she could even drag him the ten or fifteen feet to the boat.

"Help," she wheezed to Barbossa, who was hanging on for dear life as their boat pitched wildly from side to side. "I can't make it."

"Try," he snapped.

Elizabeth tried. But she was still coughing up the murky water and could barely keep herself afloat, much less climb over the bodies with Jack. Her strength had given out and they were sinking again and she choked on another mouthful of water. Her last thought before true panic was: and he's not coming, I'm going to kill him...

When she started drowning in earnest, Barbossa finally believed her that it was more than just female nervousness making her call out for help. Well, if that was the case, then so be it. He kicked off his boots and dove in after her.

Strong hands on her hips and a voice in her ear. "On your back. Quit your coughing. Float." She felt herself guided into position. "Don't bother grabbing them, they'll just sink. I'll be back. You must not panic. Just stay here." She concentrated on breathing in and out, slowly, and waited. And waited.

Elizabeth had seemed able to move around without much trouble, but for Barbossa it was like swimming through a tub of molasses. Brushing up against the poor helpless souls who floated there was bad enough, but every now and again he'd happen to touch one who was hungry (like me, the thought struck him before he could remind himself not to think of it) and he could feel them leeching away at the will he needed.

But it was only fifteen feet and Jack and Elizabeth needed him and worse, his own bloody life was at stake. Again.

They reached the boat and Barbossa heaved Jack up so that he was sprawled partway over the side and out of the water. For now that was the best he could do, and it was enough: after a bit, Jack began to stir. To breathe.

Perhaps because they had drifted or perhaps because the weather had gotten worse, Barbossa could no longer even see the sails of the And Back from where he was. That gave him a bad feeling. They really should hurry, so he left Jack where he was and went back for Elizabeth. She was lying on her back, moving her arms gently to stay afloat, her teeth chattering and lips blue. She looked almost like one of the dead herself.

When he grabbed her she screamed, then gasped "Oh it's you! Thank God, I don't know what to do, I have to get out of here, I keep thinking they're grabbing me."

They probably are. He threw an arm over her chest and fought a way through the glue, towing her after him. She was heavy and the waves choppier than before, but having a warm live companion made the trip a little better. (Specifically, a warm live companion whose clothing had become completely see-through in the water. Although the surroundings were so unappealing that he could barely appreciate that sort of thing at the moment.)

Embarrassingly enough, the pull of the water was so strong on him that he had to have Elizabeth's help to climb aboard the boat. He could see from her smile that he'd never live it down.

Once the two of them were safely aboard he noticed that Jack had not yet managed to get free of the liquid quicksand either. In fact, his grip on the side of the boat was slipping and he was sliding back down into the water slowly. "Help me," he rasped - his first words out of the grave. While Barbossa wrung out his sleeves nonchalantly and pretended that the heaving of the boat didn't disturb him, Elizabeth hauled Jack aboard on her own – ignoring the blood that was coursing down her bad arm – and threw herself at him to give him a hug.

Jack's arms came up mechanically to hug her back, but he wasn't paying her any attention. His mind was clearing and he was staring over her shoulder with a dozen kinds of disbelief.

"You."

"Aye." Barbossa locked eyes with him for a long moment. And so it was Elizabeth who first noticed…

"The ship! Our ship – it's gone."

TBC.

Two people mentioned Lord of the Rings and all the bodies. I know I've seen all the LotR movies, more than once apiece, but I can't for the life of me remember where you mean. Remind me.

The next chapter is just about ready and contains the Jack/Barbossa conversation I've been itching to write for weeks. I'm psyched for it. Review for me! And I'll post again probably tomorrow.