Chapter Thirteen - That Was Then, This Is Now

Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean belongs to Disney.

Elizabeth Swann stared up at the oversized portrait of her dear Will heroically wielding a sword, the wind in his hair, foggy atmosphere surrounding him - yet something about this portrait seemed odd. Elizabeth then shifted her eyes to the left to find similar portraits of Jack, Barbossa, and herself. How is this possible? She couldn't recall sitting for these paintings at all.

An adolescent male stood at the counter of the video store and discretely observed the woman making an extreme fashion statement.

"May I help you?" he asked, his voice cracking ever so slightly.

"Yes," Elizabeth replied as she made her way towards him. "I'd like to see Will Turner."

The youth altered his cap while thinking about this request for a moment. This woman was eerily familiar somehow but he couldn't place her.

"I'm told this is where I may find him," Elizabeth continued, pressing for an answer.

"You'll find Pirates over there in the New Release section," he pointed.

"Pirates?" Elizabeth didn't like the sound of that. "What are they doing there?"

"Um, new release, you know," he replied uncertainly.

"Oh."

Elizabeth had trouble understanding his choice of words. Had this young man released pirates from their cells?

"Which pirates have been released?" Elizabeth asked desperately.

"Uh… three. At World's End - the new one…"

"World's End?!"

The horrible feeling of dread washed over her as reality set in. She couldn't believe this! Three pirates sent to World's End? There was no doubt her Will was the new pirate in question - accompanied by two other swash-buckling companions who would most likely cause him harm. It was hopeless. There was no way she could sail solo all the way to World's End.

Oblivious to her surroundings, the tears welled up inside.

"Sheesh, are you alright?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "I can't possibly do this alone."

"Invite your folks 'round. Make a night of it."

Two Months Later...

"Do you have a plan yet, Jack?" asked Will, as he stared up at the ceiling from the rickety bed of a cheap hotel room.

"No worries, mate. Good ol' Jack's got this covered."

"You said that last time. And the time before that. Oh, and not to mention the time before that--"

"Ye gotta trust me, mate. Have I not gotten you out of far worse predicaments than this?" Jack interrupted.

Will looked across at the unwanted guest sharing his bed. It couldn't get any worse.

"Not without putting me in them first," Will retorted under his breath, louder than he intended.

"Ah, fortunately I played no such part. Ye see, had you not have been located precisely where said predicaments be taking place… then consequently, my being there would not have affected your situation of the problematic kind, now would it?"

Will Turner sighed. It was going to be a long night.

"So I suppose that means you don't have a plan, do you Jack?"

Jack frowned and thought for a moment.

Bobby downed the last of his beer, leaned back into the sofa and glued his eyes back to the TV screen. Reaching for another beer, he belched loudly, awakening the comatose Carl from the other side of the room. For under fifty bucks a night, Bobby decided this place was as good as it gets.

"Bob, wha' time is it?" asked Carl as he wiped the slobber from the corners of his mouth.

"No-one cares," Bobby replied, lighting a fresh cigarette and crossing his legs casually on the coffee table.

"They bein' awfully quiet, y'know," commented Carl, breaking the silence.

"It's 3 am. They're sleepin', stupid." Bobby rolled his eyes.

"Can't we let them go? No one has to know we got anything to do with it."

"Damn, you really are stupid," Bobby started as he opened a new can. "Quit asking. If we let them go, they'll blab. End of story."

"But I do think taking both of them was a bit greedy, Bob. Can't we at least get rid of one?" Carl perched on the edge of his seat, a pleading expression pasted across his face.

"Hell no. We been harbouring celebrities for two months, dumb-ass. We ain't gettin' away with this."

Sheepishly, Carl added,"I 'unno. We might if we be nice to them--"

"SHH!!" Bobby snapped, feeling around for the remote.

Remote in hand, Bobby turned up the volume of the television and stared intently at what he saw before him. The 80th Annual Oscar Awards - supposedly live on TV. Was that Depp sitting amongst the audience? Bobby shook his head. These things are never 'live' anyway, he thought… but hang on - wasn't the actual ceremony last week?… It's not possible…

"What the--" Bobby was flabbergasted.

Carl gazed at the TV. He was thinking along the same lines, yet on a completely different level. "Wow, Bobby, do ya reckon he coulda ran all the way to the Oscars and then come back in one night?"

Another eye-rolling moment for Bobby occurred.

"Don't you get it? If Depp's on TV, we ain't kidnapped Depp!"

"Oh." It took a moment to sink in. "So… what did we lock in the guestroom then?"

"Good question."