Sorry for the re-posting. I accidentally copied two chapters to this one... Enjoy!

XxXxXxX

The sun had been gone for nearly two hours when I roused Scarlett and the child.

I let them eat what I had found below decks after the crew had departed and then I loaded them into the longboat and made for shore. There were few lights at the port, but I rowed clear of it to be safe and found a narrow strip of beach to land.

The trio of us walked quietly along the narrow and overgrown path I'd found in the scrub and trees that skirted the port and most of the city. I felt Scarlett's eyes on me several times, but she never spoke. She held the boy by the hand, and he walked beside her, his eyes on the ground.

I'd found him some breeches and a shirt on the Pearl, so he was covered at last. Now that he walking upright, he was easily as tall as the red haired woman, but even she probably outweighed him. I didn't know what language he spoke, or even if he was capable of speech, but he and Scarlett seem to have come to some silent understanding.

We wound our way past the winking lights of noisy port and up a small hill that overlooked most of the town. There was a church on this hill, and Port-Royal's cemetery, but few homes. The underbrush was thick and the footing was difficult. But, finally, we stopped before a humble structure, partially hidden by climbing ferns, yellow allamanda shrubs and purple orchids that had grown wild. The building was made of large stones, roughly cut, that had been bleached white in the hot Caribbean sun. The blocks glowed in the moonlight and the house seemed to give off light all its own.

"Welcome home, pet," I said quietly. I smiled down at Scarlett and she made a face at me that conveyed her skepticism. "Come along, but be careful not to make too much noise, eh?"

The two followed me, stepping where I did. I walked around to the back of the small building to a door. I had to rip off some fern and when I exposed the wood, it was so dark, I feared it had gone rotten since I'd last been there. It opened just the same, however. I stepped in, gesturing for them to stay back a moment. I looked around, and satisfied that no one had taken to living there in my absence and I beckoned for them to follow me inside.

In the center of the room was a small round table. It was heavy, and most likely made of mahogany and sat on a sturdy pedestal. Though, when I found it, it had been polished to a high sheen, it was now covered in a veil of grey dust. I swept my hand though the dust as I rounded the table. There was only one chair at the table. Its mate sat next to the fireplace. Along the far wall, away from the sole window, sat a low bedstead. There were no linens, but the tick mattress was serviceable.

I was pleased to see that it did not smell of mildew or mold. That proved that the roof was not leaking. The stonework around the hearth was unbroken, so I was certain none had come inside in my absence. I strode to the fireplace and pried loose one blackened stone from beneath some ash. There, just were I'd left it, was a leather pouch. I grinned.

"Come on, love, close the door. And, come see what Jack has got for you," I chirped. I was surprised that my little stash had survived. I rarely used the house, preferring the company of a fine female to the cold little place. But, it never hurt to have a hideout just in case.

Scarlett did as I asked and joined me. The boy was still clutching her hand, looking rather nervous at the change of scenery, I smiled at him as reassuringly as possible before I opened the woman's hand. Into it, I spilled a small cache of coins. They bore symbols from France, Holland, Spain, and England in all different years. But, they all spent the same.

A small sigh escaped Scarlett's lips as I closed her hand on the money. "I know it won't buy you the tattoo shop I promised," I began, watching her eyes watch me, "But it will keep you on your feet while you find yourself a niche here in Tortuga, eh?"

"Jack," she said, my name sounding like a prayer on her lips, "I can't - " I cut her off with a sharp shake of my head.

"Yes, you will. You two need it," I said firmly. Scarlett swallowed the rest of her protest and nodded. She blinked her eyes several times, but I still saw the tears forming there.

I stepped back, letting go of her warm hand in mine. The boy remained silent, staring gravely at me.

"I have to go," I announced, suddenly. "Got to keep up appearances in the taverns, then. My crew will wonder if I've gone soft if I don't join them, eh," I tried to laugh. The sound was wooden and pathetic. I turned to leave and Scarlett moved to stop me. She rested her hand on my sleeve.

"Will you come back?" she asked. Her eyes searched my face. I knew it would be senseless to smile. She'd know I was lying.

"I'm a pirate, Scarlett. I'll always find a reason to make berth in Tortuga."

"That's not what I mean," she argued.

I waited a beat before answering, "It's all I can promise." And,with that, I took my leave.

XxXxXxX

The next two days went by in a fog of rum and women. I did not travel back up the hill. I knew Scarlett could care for herself and the boy. After all, she'd been just fine when I found her in New Providence. And, as she'd put it, she had more going for her than most women in her place.

Still, she never quite left my head as I boarded the Pearl late Thursday night. I probably did owe her more in the way of monetary reward than the little pouch I'd left her. After all, she'd done most of the work procuring the map. And, now, she was the only person, other than myself and Captain Phineas Bellamy that had seen it. As I took a long drink from the half-full bottle on the righted map table in my cabin, I promised myself I'd return to Scarlett and give her what was due once I'd found Cortés' treasure. I fell asleep feeling much better.

Of course, those feelings can never last as long as they ought to. The next day, at the last bell of the morning watch, I woke up to hands pulling my roughly from my chair. I'd fallen asleep at my map table, still holding the squat green bottle of rum. "Hey? What's all this?" I demanded. Aciguato was pulling me through the gaping doorway to the deck, "I must get that fixed," I thought aloud.

Out on the deck, I could no longer see Port-Royal. Rather, we were at sea. Aciguato released me with a great shove toward the mainmast. I stumbled, but remained upright. "What is going on, mate?" I demanded. My brain pounded in my skull and I felt slightly nauseated. Apparently, I'd taken more than my share of the drink. I turned the bottle, spout down, and nothing came forth. A lot more, then.

I turned to see most of the crew present on the deck, watching me. Most looked mildly curious, while some grinned anxiously. Finally, Barbossa pushed through their ranks. He smiled broadly at me. I grimaced. "Barbossa - " I started.

"It's Captain Barbossa, Jack," he barked. His response elicited laughter from the crew. I saw Bootstrap standing to the far left, not meeting my gaze. He was pale and looked withdrawn.

I raised my eyebrows. It wasn't hard to see what had happened, but I pressed on, "Is it now? Well, as this is my ship, I have to take issue with that."

"Oh, but it's not your ship any longer. But, it would break my heart to put you off of it, as your a good sailor, if a terrible pirate. So, as long as you'll cooperate, I'll keep you around," he smiled again, pushing his face close to mine. His breath was rank and his teeth a sight, but I stayed firm. "How does that sound, eh?"

"It sounds," I began, tapping my finger against my lip, as if in deep thought. "Well, it sounds," I continued, taking a quick step to the side and rounding on Barbossa. I drew my sword on the mutinous pirate, "Like nothing I'd be interested in."

"Men," Barbossa remarked, simply staring at my weapon. Two crewmen stepped forward and held me fast. Barbossa plucked the sword from my grasp and handed it to another member of the crew.

I was honestly shocked. "Oh," was all I could say. Barbossa laughed uproariously.

"You see, Jack, it's like I've been telling you. The crew want to pirate, eh? Not galavant after bedtime stories and make nice with the merchants," he began, stepping ever closer to me. "I am pirate. And I am the Captain of the Black Pearl."

"Well, it's a shame that your crew has to miss out on the Aztec gold, then, eh? Because I found - " I started.

"A map?" Barbossa answered. At my surprised look, he laughed once more. "Aye, I know. Pintel!" he barked.

The man stepped forward, grinning maliciously. He dragged Benjamin behind him. The boy was stripped to the waist. He had bleeding lash wounds across his chest and arms. His right eye was swollen shut and turning an angry purple. He threw the boy at my feet. "Sorry, Cap'n," the coxswain whispered up to me. And, at that, Barbossa dealt him a fierce kick to the ribs that sent him sprawling across the deck.

"I am Captain, now, you insolent little dog!" the pirate raged down at the boy. I watched the event unfold, utterly disgusted. Barbossa turned to me.

"That, my friend, is how you punish errant crew members. You don't offer to buy the offended party a whore, Jack," he spat, grinning vilely.

I glanced at Bootstrap, who lowered his gaze once more. I swallowed hard and looked back at the so-called new Captain and he continued. "Of course I knew about the map. Why do you think I didn't kill you while you slept?"

"And what makes you think I'll tel you where to find the treasure," I asked.

He grasped my left arm and yanked out from the grasp of the crewman who held it. He pushed my sleeve up and drew a short brass dagger. Before I could react, he sunk it into the flesh at the crook of my elbow and dragged it down the inside of my forearm, stopping just short of slitting my wrist. I bit the cry of pain back and stared at the blood spilling copiously from the wound. I looked back up into the man's face. He smiled and simply ordered my captors, "To the brig with him."

XxXxXxX

I slipped in an out of consciousness for the rest of the day. I had a fever and I vomited up everything in my stomach. I shook violently when I was awake and thrashed in my sleep, though my limbs were heavy and weak. The only relief I felt came when I pressed my head against the cool bars restraining me. When I was lucid, I bandaged the wound. It wasn't deep, but I could tell the dagger had some more of poison on it, as it turned the veins in my forearm black.

When I slept, I had very vivid and very terrible dreams. My mother was in all of them, as a faceless Siren, calling to me from the cliffs of an island. She screamed for me, calling me Jack instead Jaques. Her contralto voice melted away my fear of her and I went onto her island. The horrors I encountered there changed with each dream, but after each, I woke up, sweating and in pain, working furiously at the golden bead that held my memory of her. I truly thought I would die on the floor of the cell in my beautiful ship.

I don't know how much time passed before I woke to find Bootstrap sitting outside of my cell. He had a bowl of thin broth and a ewer of fresh water. He made me drink both before he would let me talk, so I did.

"Am I going to die?" I asked bluntly as I choked down the remains of the broth.

"No. The poison on the dagger was only to scare you into obedience," he answered. His tone was level and I knew he was holding back his emotions.

I looked at my arm. The wound had stopped bleeding and now, all that remained was the darkened veins and a thin red line down the middle. "And, if I don't obey?"

"Then, I suppose, he'll begin to remove some of your more cherished bits," came the reply. I winced. Bill continued, his voice earnest, "Just tell him where the bloody treasure is, mate. It's not worth it."

I stared him straight in the eye, which was difficult as I was still having a hard time standing, let alone to my full height. He did not flinch, but I had not expected him to. "It might not matter, mate. For men like you and me, there is more treasure in the hunt than in the shine, eh? But, to men like Barbossa, there will never be enough bits of gold or enough jewels. So, this map is a matter of principle. And, while I may have frittered away most of my good morals and better qualities on drink and whoring, pirating remains my one principled aspect, savvy," I grinned, suddenly more sure of myself than ever before, "And, mark me, Barbossa might get the gold yet, but I'll win. I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. I always win."

"I hope ya do, Cap'n, honest I do," Bootstrap sighed. He looked towards the upper decks. "Barbossa has been me mate since we was just runts an' I never seen him this way." He smiled wanly at me and bent to pick up my tray. Before I even knew what I was doing, I reached through the bars and unsheathed Bootstrap's sword. He stood, surprised.

I pointed it at him, coming within a hair's breadth of his shirtfront. "I don't want to do this, mate. But, desperate times and all that. Just unlock the cell, eh?"

He stared at me, wide eyed. I knew he doubted that I'd hurt him, but wasn't about to take any chances. He let go the tray with one hand, balancing it in the other and showed his palm as a sign of good faith. I backed off, but kept the cutlass leveled at his gut. He moved delicately, revealing a ring of keys from his belt. He didn't fumble them, and I had to give him credit. He inserted the key in the lock and turned it. The rusty tumblers shrieked protest and I stayed Bill's hand through the bars.

I offered him the sword, hilt first, "That's all. I just want the element of surprise when Barbossa comes down, eh. I'm not fol enough to think I can best the whole crew."

He took it and sheathed it. "I won't say nothing, Cap'n. But, I won't stand by and watch you kill me mate, know that."

I nodded and Bootstrap took his leave of me. I knew he'd be as good as his word, so I sagged against the timbers of my ship and slunk to the floor. I finally enjoyed a dreamless sleep.

The sound of boots falling on the stairs roused me. I laid still on the floor, my hat over my eyes. Hector Barbossa's voice rang out, grating against the inside of my skull like alley cats screaming outside of a whorehouse. "Get the hell up, Jack!"

I didn't remove my hat, choosing to speak from beneath it, instead. "I'm your prisoner, Barbossa, not your slave, eh?"

"You'll do as I say!" he raged. I could tell without looking that he was in a high dither over something. I grinned.

"And just what would make me do that? You've certainly given me no incentive to be friendly," I stated, enjoying the ire I was helping to stoke.

He leveled a kick at the cell's door, causing it to rattle on its hinges. I was glad it didn't fall open. "You'll be doing what I say unless you want another bite from my knife, eh?" he seethed.

Finally I tipped my hat up to peer at him. His face was red. He was without his elaborate hat and coat. His shirtsleeves were rolled past his elbows, revealing ink stains.

"Little trouble with the maps, eh?" I asked, gleeful. The maps I'd spent hours drawing and pouring over would most likely vex anyone who wasn't me. I'd intended it that way.

"Where is the boy, Jack?" he barked at me.

Finally I got to me feet, taking my time to brush bits of hay and dirt from my already-filthy coat. Barbossa let go a little growl and I smiled at him. "What boy might that be?"

"The boy with the map!" came his reply. His voice practically shook the bulwarks. I merely stood there, looking innocent.

"How should I know? I told you, you scared him off."

"I should have killed you when I met you," he hissed. His fists were balled tightly at his sides and the veins in his neck stood out. For all the world, he looked like a fishwife who found herself on the wrong side of her skirts.

I laughed at him. "That's your mistake, then. I can't be held responsible."

He reached out for me through the bars of my cell and I leapt back out of his reach. "You'll tell me where to find the gold, or so help me, I'll see you dead at my feet."

I leaned back against the planks of the hull, feeling the strength of the water behind me. I made no reply.

He bit out a vicious curse and turned, stomping back up the stairs.

"I've seen braver displays from whores, mate!" I called after him. I chuckled to myself as I awaited his next visit.

It didn't come until the next day. Or, at least, I think it was the next day. Time passed strangely when you couldn't see the sun or the moon.

Barbossa stomped back down to my cell, Aciguato in tow. The big man wrenched the bars from their hinges. Threatening Bootstrap had been in vain, I thought to myself as the Carib entered the cell and lifted me. He pushed me out onto the floor in front of him. "Walk," he barked, pointing at the stairs.

"Any other options, eh, mate?" I inquired. He raised his hand as if to strike me. "Walk. Yes. Walk it is, then."

Barbossa led, a mean little smile on his face. When I poked my head above deck, I could see that the sun was about sunk into the ocean. Off the port bow, I could see a little strip of land. We had made anchor.

"You found the treasure, eh? Good for you, always knew you could," I congratulated Barbossa. He turned on me.

"No, Jack. I've given you time to talk. Now is your last chance before we show you to your new home," he grinned at me.

The rest of the crew looked on, eager to hear my reply.

I folded my arms over my chest and assessed the new Captain. "My new home, eh? Awfully nice of you, considering."

"Considering what?" he asked, his smile fading by degrees.

"The curse. I mean the gold is cursed, isn't it, mate?" I asked, looking back at Aciguato. He did not answer.

"I know all that, you fool," Barbossa spat. "Somehow, a curse laid upon gold by some pagan god don't hold water. So, if you'll be so kind as to help me with the coordinates, I won't have to see you off that there plank, eh, Jack?"

I smiled strode to the plank in question. I stood up on it. Barbossa deflated before my eyes. "I'll be needing the usual, then." I stated.

Bootstrap stepped forward, holding my pistol. "Don't do it, Jack. Just give us the damn heading!"

"Yes, Jack, the heading. And, like you said, there'll be enough gold for you to buy a new ship, I'll fancy," Barbossa added. He paused, as if considering, "If I decide to give you your equal share, that is. I mean, you haven't been doing your fair share these past three days, have you?" The crew laughed.

I reached forward and plucked the pistol from Bootstraps hand and took a step back on the plank. The crew pressed forward with a gasp. "Oh, gentlemen, I didn't know I was so dear to you all." I took another step. "Barbossa, I won't be parting with the information you're in need of, but thank you for the gracious accommodations aboard my ship." I pressed backward with my foot and found the end of the plank. I stepped to it. "Remember this day, mates. The deepest circle of hell is reserved for betrayers and mutineers!" And with that, I executed a deep bow, turned, and dived into the deep.