A/N: Where have all the reviewers gone? Sigh. I've got another plug for Maidenfairhair's Legends of the Pirate King. She's updated and she never ceases to wow me. This is a good time to put in another disclaimer that I am not the creator of POTC, although I should put that on a resume and see if I get away with it...Anyways, this chapter contains some strong language.

A blinding sun shone down on Jack's face, prodding his closed eyes to open and then snap shut again. Adjusting to the light, he sat up, an imprint of his body pressed into the sand beneath him. Squinting, he darted his head in search of the kraken. No smell of salt, no gust of wind, no porpoises squealing in the distance—the sand dunes only acted the part of ocean waves. He shuddered at the silence, his hand wavering over his pistol.

He stood and stepped under a shadow. Now able to widen his eyes, he turned and saw the shade provided to him came from the Pearl's hull, resting lopsided in the middle of this wasteland. Climbing aboard, he counted the longboats at the sides of the ship. Remembering a tentacle reaching for them and crushing them, he shook his head at the ebony sails lying still above him. Not one patch blemished their surface, a uniform black from tip to tip. Tiptoeing over to his cabin door, the swirls in the black wood shined like new, like the first day he saw her.

With his hand about to pull the door open, he heard a muffle laugh from the other side. Cocking his pistol, he flung the door open and barged inside.

"Who's in here? Out!" he ordered.

"Here now, it's just me." A young boy, about ten, with eyes and hair blacker than expensive licorice emerged. Jack's lips went dry, sensing the dizzying headache that came when a person was about to drown. "Teague?"

"What?" Jack croaked, bending over and placing his palms on his knees. Trying to maintain control of his breathing, he counted to three and stared back up at the boy who was approaching him.

"Oh. For a minute there, I thought you were my father. You aren't a pirate, are you?"

"What would you do if I was?"

"Well," the boy stammered, kicking the floor with the heel of his boot again and again. "I wouldn't be afraid, to be sure. Mum and me know all about pirates."

Oh, God, Jack thought, sick to his stomach. A plethora of things he had been called in his time, but never, ever mistaken for his father by a kid, a kid he knew all too well. He limped over to his bed and sat on the edge of it, swallowing the vomit oozing up into his mouth. The light emitting from the outside into the cabin disappeared, a shadow standing in front of the door. Didn't the Dutchman blow the cabin to pieces? Yes, yes, he saw her blow the cabin to pieces. And yet, he was staring at a cabin fully intact. He jumped at the sight of the boy still looking at him. Still there? Maybe he was the one who was no longer intact.

"Oh, finally, captain's here!" a half-naked version of himself cried out, running over to him and falling to his knees. "We could use some guidance. Old Jack is out there dry-humping everything in sight! It's no sight fit for a boy."

"Old Jack?" Jack repeated, quivering. He pushed his shirtless self off of him and stood. "Please tell me you weren't one of the aforementioned things in sight. I don't think I can deal with that right now."

"Oh, no, Captain. I know to stay clear of him. I knew you'd be coming and just wanted to welcome you. Mr. Sparrow, at your service, sir." Mr. Sparrow held out his hand with a toothy grin. "And just what booty will we be going after, sir? If I could get some idea of what it was, I could start doing the arithmetic necessary to see everyone gets an equal share. Of course, if we're stopping by the village, we ought to go see how Tia Dalma is taking care of everyone. We still have a responsibility to them."

"Them?"

"Oy! The people you freed, Captain!" Mr. Sparrow slapped Jack's back with a hearty laugh. "Modest soul, you are. I forgot. My apologies." Whistling, he ambled right out of the cabin, leaving Jack with the boy.

"Don't suppose your name is Jack," Jack said.

"Jackie, actually," the boy said. "And I stay clear of Old Jack, too. He's a mad one, that. If we'll be setting sail soon, I'd be much obliged if you took me back to my mum, sir. She's probably worried sick by now."

Not answering Jackie, Jack went to the door and peeked out. On the deck, dozens of men that looked just like him were running around in every direction, most of them cleaning every inch of the Pearl, the rest singing or writing or crawling on all fours like an animal. What kind of Locker was this? The first time he was marooned, he remembered wishing for someone to pass the time with and now he had a whole crew at his disposal? This certainly beat being here alone. It wouldn't be too hard to get the Pearl going with a crew like this, and then they could find their way out of here, back...

"You there!" he called to one of the Jacks, this one propped up on the railing of the ship writing in a black log. Between his knees, the man held the ink bottle.

"Aye, sir?"

"Uh…just who are you?"

"Oh, where are me manners?" This Jack, in trousers, boots, and a thick white shirt that fell down to his thighs, wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into a tight embrace. "Corsair Jack. Now, if you don't need me for anything." He propped himself back up on the deck and continued writing. "You know, I think maybe had I told her half of what is in this log here, she might have given me a chance."

"What?"

"Nothing," Corsair Jack sighed and stared out to sea. "It was right here she called me a good man, remember that?"

Jack climbed up the steps to take the helm, wondering if in this twisted universe he could sail through sand. There had to be a reason Jones supplied him with a crew. Maybe if he touched the helm, just touched it, the wind would pick up and they could find their way back. Jackie followed him up the stairs. They both stopped at the sight of a Jack in a sensible blue coat steering the ship.

"Come to relieve me, sir? Just as well." He held up his arms in a flippant fashion and took Jack's arm. "Oh, such strong muscles. Have you been doing some heavy lifting?"

"Don't tell me you're Old Jack?"

"Don't be so silly! It's me! Juanita." Juanita gave Jack a playful shove and giggled at the effect. "Things have just been topsy-turvy around here and I can't say Old Jack isn't partially to blame. Do you think you can find us somewhere elegant? I miss luxury. I miss the days when we transported lace and silk up to England. Those were the days! Women get to have all the pretty things, don't they?"

"Well, yes…"

"I've been busying myself by adding some ribbons to a dress I found down in the hull. Wait here. I'll go get it!" Juanita ran below decks, forearms perpendicular with the deck. Jack could find no words to respond, even with Jackie looking up at him with pleading eyes. Too many Jacks scurried about the deck and one just lay there in the middle, eyes open and still. A dead self, perhaps? Poor chap at least didn't have to see this mess before him.

"Captain," he heard behind him. Jack made a face at the disheveled creature in front of him. The braids and locks Jack had spent so long on to make sure his hair never fell in front of his eyes were gone, a long black mat lay on top of this man's head with no bandana. He wore a torn white shirt with fraying sleeves. What the bloody hell was he looking at? Jack never went out in public looking like he'd spent the night in a pig hovel. "How much sooner till we make port?"

"I can't say," Jack said, distracted by the bulge protruding from the man's trousers. "Old Jack?"

"I haven't been with a woman in…I don't know!" Old Jack growled in a husky voice Jack never used, not on any woman. "See, I must, must, be with a woman soon. There are animals down there I'm finding quite fascinating." Old Jack leaned closer and whispered in a worried tone. "I find them as fascinating as I found Lawan's naked body in front of me. I still think of that dragon on her. She was a right good fuck, she was. Of course, nothing beats the twins. Two at once, you know. The French got it right. But, I think Scarlet could'a given 'em a good run for their money. Could really plow into her, eh? You remember how wet Trini was? Now, that's what I call a great fuck! There was a girl what knew what a man likes. Of course, just going by beauty…"

"Why don't ye use your hand?" Jack tried, wringing his lace. What next, Trinidad hopping out from some corner and explaining why she never took him up on his offer? He hoped not, not fancying to see his old friend run for her life, run for her soul, when this leering beast approached her. Should have kidnapped the wench. Should have forced her to come with him. She'd be alive somewhere, alive and free.

"Don't give him the time of day, Captain," Jackie said, tugging on Jack's coat. "He's just a filthy pirate."

"Must fuck, must fuck…" Old Jack chanted, retiring below decks.

"Just don't go down there right now, kid," Jack said. "I have a feeling neither of us wants to see what's about to happen down there."

XXX

Unable to even find sleep when he lay in his bed, Jack paced the deck, watching Merchant Jack yell at the men about how their incompetency would cost him a captaincy with the East India Trading Company.

"He is a wound-up one," Mr. Sparrow said to Jack, still half-naked, bringing him a teacup with nothing in it. "Go ahead and drink that down, sir. Ye need your mind intact to be able to deal with all these ruffians."

"How did they all get here, Mr. Sparrow?" Jack asked.

"Captain? Don't you know? We just came here a few hours before you came aboard. We thought we would be setting sail, not that I'm complaining. It gives us all a chance to get to know each other. Why, you ought to meet Buccaneer Jack, the stories he tells. Did you know that he has a story about how he escaped the hanging at Port Royal by grabbing two parrots and letting them fly off with him?"

"Diverting," Jack said, rolling his eyes.

"He can't fight with a sword to save his life, but he tries so hard, God bless him," Mr. Sparrow continued. "He makes up for it when he has his pistol. Isn't this a wondrous opportunity to be alone with one's thoughts, Captain?"

"Assuredly."

"When will we be making port, sir?" Papa Jack called up to him.

"Yet to be determined," Jack called back down. "Just keep that egg of yours warm."

"I have a feeling this is the one," Papa Jack said. "This one will hatch and then I can pass down my Piece of Eight to the tyke and retire. Oh, yes." He got up off the egg and nuzzled it. "Oh yes, you know I'm talking about you, don't you? Don't you, little one? You are so cute. Yes, you are! But soon you'll have to hatch. Captain, have I gained weight since you've been here? What do you think?"

"I think you're quite strapping," Jack mumbled, entering his cabin and trying again to fall asleep. How did he get here with all these characters in the first place? Last he knew he was a pirate sailing the seven seas with great enthusiasm, especially after getting this ship back from that Barbossa. That had been quite an adventure, or was it all a dream? Sometimes it seemed a dream, thinking about the choppy waves on the way to Isla de Muerta, the starry sky looking down on him. Did he ever get Anamaria a ship? Did it matter since he couldn't be sure if she had been real? It all seemed so vivid, but yet so far away. He knew if he could just sleep, even for only an hour, he would know for sure what memories were actual memories and which were figments of his imagination. He closed his eyes and deepened his breathing.

"What'cha cryin' for, Jackie?" he asked the ceiling, knowing Jackie was still hiding about in the cabin.

"I miss my mum," the boy sniffed.

"Your mum's dead."

XXX

Not one blasted rum bottle on the whole ship, Jack sighed, done inspecting the hull for the day. Of course, it was always day here and it was no longer a suitable measurement to determine how long it had been since he'd slept. He'd matted together Corsair Jack's poems into a parasol for when he went up on deck to address his crew. Miscreants, they were, every last one of them. As soon as they reached port, he would trade them all in for some men who really knew how to sail and didn't mind following orders. His stomach growled and for once, it was the only sound. The crew must all be working, he thought with a smirk on his face. He knew better than that, but then, things were quiet up there.

He left the parasol down in the hull, knowing how Corsair Jack cried every time he saw it and lashed out, "If you only knew love the way I did, you would understand." Jack would then tell the pitiful bugger that if he wished to be with a woman on board to go find Juanita, but then he would just mumble on and on about how no one compared to Lizzie and no one else in the world would do. Jack was beginning to think he had kept his fantasies of Lizzie to himself, but he must have shared them with Mr. Sparrow, everyone's best friend who couldn't keep a secret to save his life.

Ah, Juliet, se misura della tua gioia Sia heap' la d gradice miei e quello la tua abilità è più Per blazon, allora zuccheri con il tuo alito Questa vicina a aria ed ha lasciato music' ricco; linguetta di s Spieghi la felicità immaginata che entrambe Ricevi in l'uno o l'altro da questo incontro caro.

Coming back up to the main deck, he found Balmy Jack crawling around, once again complaining of his ailments.

"Get up off your arse, you," Jack said, kicking him. "You're a member of this crew, are you not?"

"Have a heart, sir! Me old crew left me to die, only a few years ago! I can't even sound sober or walk a straight line, much less serve on a crew. Believe me, Captain, this is the best way for me to get around."

"You're a worthless sod what makes the others want to be lazy."

Balmy Jack yelped at the kick and scooted out of Jack's reach, crawling up and down the deck past Sly Jack and Buccaneer Jack, who were each trying to top the other one's tall tales. They climbed up to the crow's nest together when they saw Old Jack leering at them and mumbling under his breath. Papa Jack cradled his egg in his palms and sang, "I love a maid across the water/aye, aye, roll and go/She is Sal herself and yet Sally's daughter/Spend my money on Sally Brown" to it, hushing up when Old Jack passed by them. Looking around one last time, Old Jack cursed and stomped his way below decks.

I know what he's about to do, Jack thought. About to retire himself and thinking maybe Old Jack had the right idea about how to spend a few minutes, he caught Balmy Jack out of the corner of his eye propping himself up and tying a napkin around his neck. In his trembling fists he held a knife and fork.

"Seven long years and she wouldn't marry,
Aye, aye, roll and go!
And I no longer cared to tarry,
Spend my money on Sally Brown.So I courted Sal, her only daughter,
Aye, aye, roll and go!
For her I sail upon the water,
Spend my money on Sally Brown."

If that supercilious codpiece thinks he can take without pulling his weight he is in much need of a lesson, Jack thought, taking his pistol out from its holster and concealing it behind his back.

"Don't do it, Captain!" Mr. Sparrow came running, bracing Jack with his arms. "The heat got to him long before you ever came along. He doesn't know what he's doing."

"Get out of my way."

"Don't do it, sir!"

"You want to be next, Mr. Sparrow? Then I suggest you let me do my captain duties. Still tagging along?" He pushed Mr. Sparrow. "You can only provoke me so much…"

"I don't care, Captain, and, to be quite blunt with you, sir, that's the sort of thing Captain Teague would say."

About to waste a bullet on him, Jack pressed on towards Balmy Jack, cutting what looked like a peanut as gently as he could.

"Sally Brown, I love your daughter,
Aye, aye, roll and go!
For her I sail upon the water,
Spend my money on Sally Brown"

XXX

As if seeing Gibbs wasn't enough of a shock, there before him stood Barbossa, squinting and glaring. What had those crewmen done to him that, of all the things to imagine, was that wretch?

"Ah, Hector. It's been too long, hasn't it?"

"Isla de Muerta, remember? You shot me."

Oh, he was not going to fall for that. When Captain Jack Sparrow shoots, he doesn't miss. But that had been a nice dream, shooting right through the heart of that leathery body. He took a moment to examine the dripping wet facial hair on the craggy cheeks. There was more than he remembered, and a few more aged spots. Perhaps some time had passed. Right, he thought, and that really was you back there flapping your arms and sitting on an egg.

"No, I didn't."

Jack shuffled through the crowd made up of just about all his associates these last few years. There could be no reason why they would all assemble together.

"Ah, Tia Dalma, out and about, eh?" He stopped in front of her beautiful face with specks of sand blown over it. She grinned back at him, always challenging. "You lend an agreeable sense of the macabre to any delirium."

"He thinks we're a hallucination."

Now, he thought, turning his attention from Tia to where William's voice just spoke, a voice that sounded so much like Bill's. There he was, that noble, dignified, brave young hypocrite who stood just like Bill. It was easy to remember Will, so much against piracy that he committed such a string of piratical acts in the name of love that if he had been caught and sentenced to hang instead of Jack himself, there would be almost as long a list of crimes announced at the gallows as there was at his own hanging. He laughed to himself. No one ever hanged him. Here he was, walking about and making judgments about the most judgmental lad he ever knew. Well, he had had enough of it. Will could knock other people out with oars and pretend he was above any acts of such immorality.

"William, tell me something." Before I rip that earring right out of your skin. When did he get an earring? Must have been after he double-crossed me and introduced me to an oar. "Have you come because you need my help to rescue a certain distressing damsel…or rather damsel in distress? Either one?"

"No." It was too flat an answer. Too flat for romantic, chivalrous William.

"Then you wouldn't be here. So you can't be here. Q. E. D., you are not really here." He had wanted a crew, but these?

"Jack."

His heart stopped. He knew that voice. Where did he know it?

"This is real. We're here."

Her soaked hair matted in such a way it framed her face, her lips pouting out in spite of the nervous, yet determined expression she had, her eyes looking like they didn't know whether to drink him in or avoid looking at him—Lizzie? No. No, not his Lizzie. This was Elizabeth Swann, treacherous, murderous Elizabeth Swann who would just as soon leave him to die as lace her boots. Yes, he knew exactly who this was. That wasn't a dream. That happened. But then that meant…

He ran back to Gibbs. Surely if anyone would know, it would be him. The man had a story for every day of the year.

"The Locker, you say?"

"Aye."

Well, that explains a lot.

"We've come to rescue you!" Elizabeth said, edging out from her hiding place among the crowd. He'd kill her. First chance he had, when they were alone together…of course, no man in his right mind would be alone with her. No. He'd let her live. She could one day chain William to a mast after giving him the kiss of his life just in time to out-pirate everyone and tell him she wasn't sorry.

"Have ye now?" He slinked forward, still debating whether or not to kill her right in front of everyone. "That's very kind of you. But seeing as I possess a ship and you don't, it seems as though you're the ones in need of rescuing and I'm not sure as I'm in the mood." He ought to leave them all here. Taking his life for granted wasn't something unique to her. The number of people present who had attempted to take it before made his head spin. A passer-by might assume they were all friends.

XXX

Was this just some new stage of this Locker, showing him his world completely upside down? Here he was just beginning to get used to seeing Barbossa's face moving again and then Pintel ambushes them both making demands. He lifted his head enough to peer out to the deck of the Pearl, Tia Dalma grinning knowingly at him from across the way. No nightmare could be complete without that, he thought.

"That man been sleeping in my cabin again?" he asked Gibbs, who was still hauling the pallet line.

"What? Jack, the Pearl's been with you this whole time."

"Oh." He shook his head. His first few days in the Locker, if they could be called days since no night ever came, he figured that if anyone ever came for him, it would put an end to all the confusion. "Sure?"

"Bloody sure, Captain. Ain't no one been in that cabin since Miss Elizabeth spent the night in it a while back. I'll tell ye, the journey we made. It does the heart good to see ya, you know that?" Gibbs patted his back and Jack could not help but let a tiny smile form. "After Tia Dalma and Barbossa explained what we all needed to do, we was begrudged to sail under his command. T'wasn't an easy thing to do, for him either. The number of times one of us considered shootin' the other, and that's when everyone aboard felt like speaking." Gibbs paused and gazed past Jack. Jack turned to see Will heading below decks with a purposeful expression. "A sparse crew, to be sure, provisions dwindling and we hadn't even made it halfway to Singapore to get the charts. That bloody cur Sao Feng…took great umbrage to havin' to see him. Well, the important thing is you're back, we'll all get back and out to Shipwreck Cove in time for a dance and a swig."

The boards that made up the deck seemed to sway in time with the pounding of Jack's headache. He never felt dizzier, even after Mr. Mercer about broke his nose and scorched his arm with that poker.

"Shipwreck Cove?" he croaked.

"Aye. We'll explain it to ye as we go, that is if anyone feels like talkin' much. Why, just the night before we reached Singapore and sent Will out on ahead, he and Barbossa had quite a row. You wouldn't believe the temper that lad's gathered, rammin' up old Barbossa and pointin' his sword right at him, threatening to take off his ear if he asked what was wrong with him again. The pressures…"

"Mr. Gibbs," Jack said, hardly above a whisper. His head ached. "I can't take all this in right now."

"Oh, how stupid of me! Of course. You'll want to be concentratin' on getting us out of here. Those charts are so tricky. We all had a good look at 'em before we went over the falls, but no one can make anything out. That Tia Dalma…" His voice lowered. "How is it she can bring a person back to life but can't figure out these charts, hmm? She's got something up her sleeve, all right, and all too willing to let Sao Feng form his own assumptions. And in addition to that great mind of yours, we have your compass now, too! Nothin' to worry about now."

"Gibbs, I don't say please very often," Jack growled, his teeth gritting. She could give him that little compass that never did anyone a world of good, but she couldn't give him the bloody key? She could bring back to life the man that humiliated him and left him to die, but she couldn't have kept Davy Jones happy enough to prevent him from taking his angst out on the entire ocean? "I'm going to go into my cabin now. I'm entrusting this ship to, er, Captain Barbossa under your supervision. Don't interrupt." He held up a finger to silence the start of a grunt out of Gibbs. "I will come out when I damn well please, and no one, no one, is to come in. I don't care if the ship has sprung a leak. I don't care if the bloody kraken is back for seconds. When I close that door, it will remained closed until I choose to come out and no one had better barge in and begin telling me of all the trials and tribulations of bloody Hector Barbossa, Will Turner, Elizabeth Swann, and especially, especially Tia Dalma. Savvy?"

He marched into his cabin and slammed the door shut. Now at sea with clouds over them, the shade gave the cabin a shadowy atmosphere. His bed, over to the side, was almost encased in darkness. He slumped into it, his eyelids so heavy. Una volta in una terra lontana was what he used to hear a long time ago when he went to bed, but now, finally alone with no thoughts or dreams to haunt him, he blocked out the voices, the faces, the memories and fell fast asleep.

A/N: What do you think? Please let me know. The Italian at the end of this chapter translates to, "Once upon a time in a faraway land." There is a long Italian passage earlier on that is from Romeo and Juliet. Here it is in English.

Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy
Be heap'd like mine and that thy skill be more
To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath
This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue
Unfold the imagined happiness that both
Receive in either by this dear encounter

So...this wasprobably the most difficult chapter to write. I wanted to really delve into the Locker since AWE just gave us a snippet. Please leave reviews for this one, positive or negative, compliments or constructive criticism.