Back in jail, back smelling mildew and sweat without any reprieve whatsoever, Jack sniffed at the air without thinking, grimacing at the, ahem, odiferous charm of the place. Two armed guards paced back and forth at the end of the corridor, ready to drive their bayonets into anyone channeling young Will Turner, who could do clever things with metal. They probably wouldn't even let Will in, Jack thought, letting his arms rest on the slots between the bars, unless dear Bill Turner's son's talent exceeded everyone's expectations and he barged in with a sword forged by Vulcan that burned through these bars and left a bubbling pool of melted steel on the floor.

"Jack?"

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at him, her hair pulled back from her face and pinned up almost as much as she was, Jack observed. The soft periwinkle dress just looked uncomfortable, even though he could tell it did not come with a corset. The girl had learned her lesson.

"Come to join me, love?"

"Jack," she said, her fingertips grazing the cold bars. "I wish I had come with better news."

"So you haven't heard from William then?" The look on her face answered him for her. He glanced down at the floor.

"I'm so sorry," she said. "Will will find Mr. Gibbs, I know it, and when he does, they'll bring the Pearl here for your escape. It takes a long time to get to Tortuga and find a person, I suspect. He'll come back, Jack. It's not too late."

"I'd rather you'd have just said you had a hacksaw hidden in those skirts somewhere and you felt obliged to help me saw me way out of here."

"He'll come. We're not about to let them go through with this, not while we can save you." Her hand grasped his through the bars, clenching it. His forehead leaned down on one of the bars, watching her, wondering if the guards would come running if he pulled her to him and kissed those lips he'd noticed had a tendency to pout out no matter what she was feeling—fear, determination, amusement, concern. He had wanted to before, on the Dauntless. She'd looked deeper into his eyes than anyone had for a long time. The mist circling around her, her boy clothes charming, the fact she called him Jack for the first time—it had taken too much energy to keep his eyes off her.

She broke away from him, her hand dropping to her side. "Although I'm sure it's disheartening to have to depend on Mr. Gibbs."

"Don't be too hard on him," Jack said. "He always comes through for me. The Pearl's rather gifted when it comes to seduction. He'll get over his passing fancy."

If he died on land, would Davy Jones still have charge over his soul? Maybe I should just go ahead and let them hang me. And die a prisoner? Be martyred by wig-sporting peacocks? Shame on you, Jackie. He could hear Teague's hard snicker at those thoughts. But if he lived…if he lived he only had about one more year to find that damn bloody key. Impresa impossibile, he thought. He made sure to look back at Elizabeth, lest she think it was the noose he feared.

"And what about the other man in your life?" he asked with a scolding tone. She would know what he meant.

"James? Jack, I've pled your case day after day!" Once again, that fight, that cold, vengeful fire in her eyes surfaced, only to fade back to the soft glitter they had before. "He and Father both think that by hanging you, they'll set a precedent."

"Am I so important?" he laughed. "I thought you had that man wrapped around your little finger."

Elizabeth flushed at the phrase, her mouth dropping open with a small pout Jack was finding more and more irresistible. A clever rum-burner like her could make a man do whatever she wanted if she would just use her imagination. Shut up, you, he scolded himself. She's not some whore. She wants to do this the honest way. Yes, as honest as promising herself to a man she doesn't love. Well…just because she wants to be honest doesn't mean she's all that good at it.

"Goodbye, Jack."

"No, no, no. Wait." He slid his arm through the bars and gripped her arm. Her face immediately flew to the two guards, probably taking tentative steps to this cell.

"Elizabeth?" Governor Swann's voice echoed back to them. She brought that oaf with her? "Is everything all right?"

"Fine! Just forgot to give him Will's note!" she lied, calling back, waving her hand at them to lower their weapons. She spun back to him with a cold stare. "Behavior like that will get you hanged faster than you think around here. The least you can do is stay out of trouble until Will returns with the Pearl and your crew."

"Lizzie, you have to accept the possibility that Will may not come back in time." He said it slowly, hoping she wouldn't take it the wrong way. It wasn't that he distrusted Bill's son. No. But blind faith was a foolish thing for anyone to have.

"Don't you trust him?"

"Love, I've trusted a lot of people over the years. People fail." You failed, he told himself. Mum dead, Trini dead, Bill languishing on the Dutchman, with Jack about to join him if the tides didn't turn, no less, and all he had to show for it was a dead Barbossa, expiring in some forgotten cave. It would just about break his heart if Gibbs didn't come back, and if Will went against him for any reason…

"Will won't fail you," Elizabeth whispered to him. "I'll be there tomorrow and you'll see. You weren't meant to die on the gallows." She locked eyes with him, shaking her head at her own speechlessness. "I should go."

Hitching up her skirts, she took a step back from the cell, tears swelling behind her eyes that were not allowed to fall, not now. Cad, he thought, parting with her this way. She reminded him so much of himself, ridden with guilt and despising herself for her decisions, even if those decisions were the only things she could have done. He summoned a grin on his face and waited for his eyes to dance.

"Aren't you going to kiss me goodbye?"

Elizabeth turned back to him, stifling a grin of her own. Finally, she unleashed a laugh and came back to him. He joined her in a laugh, already missing that sound. Speak-again-bright-angel came to mind, but he quelled it, content to share a light moment with her…a light, sober moment with her. She bent down and kissed his knuckles. They turned white from clinging to the bar, tensing at the sensation. Returning her sad smile to her face, she stepped back from him and made her way down the corridor, refusing to look back at him. That either meant she didn't care or that she didn't want him to see her face, and judging by the way her shoulders trembled, he guessed she didn't want him to see her cry.

XXX

Miserable cockswain should have said "captain." Jack muttered it, not sure if even the spectators sadistic enough to find places to stand closest to the gallows heard him. "…the most egregious of these to be cited herewith: piracy, smuggling, impersonating an officer of the Spanish Royal Navy, impersonating a cleric of the Church of England…"

Ah, yes. That was how he met Gibbs, he remembered with a short laugh. Bloody cur if he isn't here.

He wondered how word of his death might reach Davy Jones, if the barbarous codpiece would chuckle at the irony or if he would consider Jack to have had the last laugh after all? Unless you can be sent to the Locker even if you die on land. He made a deep inhale at that thought, taking the time to spot Elizabeth in the crowd, speaking to Norrington with steely eyes, like she was challenging him to a duel.

"May God have mercy on your soul."

Why now did the clearest image of Bill's face come to mind?

It was a quick drop, and even with a foothold he could feel the pressure on his neck. Foothold? His feet latched onto the sword underneath him, still wobbling from the effect of being thrown. In front of him, Will approached him, cutting his bonds and leading him to the end of the fort. No thoughts rushed through his head, only the primitive instinct to take down whatever stood in his way. Almost to the end, he could finally see Will, practically in a dance with him as they made their escape. Just a few more steps and he could dive over the edge into the water. Maybe the kid would come with him, seeing as the honorable sod saw fit to commit yet another criminal act. Good in a fight, quick thinker—if anyone could help him find the key, William Turner could.

But every way he looked, red coat over red coat loomed over them, swords drawn. He almost bumped into Will.

Bugger.

"I thought we might have to endure some manner of ill-conceived escape attempt but not from you."

Was that loathsome creature referring to him? Jack cocked his head, only for the feather in Will's hat to tickle his face. Oh. Well then, at least the gallows wouldn't feel so lonely.

"On our return to Port Royal , I granted you clemency. And this is how you thank me? By throwing in your lot with him?" Governor Swann sputtered. Jack scoffed at the remark. The situation called for a little more than an "I'm very disappointed in you," admonishment. No wonder Lizzie was such a rebel. "He's a pirate!"

"And a good man!"

Jack felt like he'd received a good kick in the ribs. To hear him say that, to hear Bill's little boy say that…but not in front of Norrington and all his pirate-hunting henchmen. He never thought he'd have to tell the kid to always seem a tad meaner than one truly was. There would be a lot for him to learn if he was going to come back with him.

"If all I have achieved here is that the hangman will earn two pairs of boots instead of one, so be it. At least my conscience will be clear."

"You forget your place, Turner."

"It's right here, between you and Jack."

Elizabeth rushed over to them, shoving her way past the officers and held Will's arm. "As is mine."

The rest of the conversation sounded like no more than a muted song playing in a faraway room at the sight of that bloody parrot, perched so casually. It flew back towards the horizon, out onto a sparkling sea where adventure and the Pearl awaited it. A sparrow should most definitely join it in such a venture.

Letting the words flow and his body fall back, Jack plunged into the water, black sails waving at him, beckoning him to swim as far as was required to reach them. No swim felt more refreshing in his life, the memory of the rough rope around his neck lodged to the back of his head with every stroke. At last, Gibbs' smiling face greeted him. They pulled him on board, the wood on the deck seeming to embrace him.

"I thought you were supposed to keep to the Code," Jack said, inspecting the masts and the helm with disbelieving eyes.

"We figured they were more actual guidelines," Gibbs explained, clapping his hands together. No doubt the promise of acting as first mate on such a ship came to mind.

Jack took the helm of the Pearl, feeling the power and the elegance of her gel into him. Dizzy with adrenaline, he opened his compass, watching it spin a full circle once as it always did, then slow until it detected the direction of his heart's desire. Catching himself humming that ridiculously silly and yet fitting song, his face unleashed a bright smile when he saw where the arrow stopped.

"And really bad eggs/Drink up, me hearties, yo ho."
There was still that pesky key to find, and he suspected problem after problem would arise, but at this moment, he could sing like a sparrow should sing. He hadn't sung in years, but now he seemed to be singing quite a bit. Well, there was much that warranted singing.

A/N: Don't worry. We're not at the end yet. Some of Jack's greatest adventures are yet to come. Please leave reviews and tell me what you think. I'll just be sitting here with my rum...