Disclaimer - My humblest apologies, Readers. This has been one very confusing story for me. Blame my long hiatus during the time of my father's surgery, or the fact my mind was on other matters at the time last year. But, Chapter 17 won't be new. I had - once again - left a chapter out - way back around chapter 12. It's one that I really, really liked, too, one that…will be new to you. It's titled These Aren't Your Average Turtles. Just a little interlude between the POTC's initial encounter with the TMNT's and what happened next. I debated about slipping it in, but no story of mine is ever set in stone, not until I breathe my last bit of air.

And, as a reward for your patience and understanding, I'll have another update coming almost on the heels of this one.

:0) Well, as before, I only own the idea…and the poles.

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Chapter 17 - Wood, It Be

"So," Jack asked, waving a delicate hand at the treasure, "any one of ya have ideas how best t'move it?"

"Well," Don said thoughtfully, "given the weight of the chest, we can't just pick it up, so that means there must be another way."

Raph rolled his eyes, "Wow, what a revelation, Don. You certainly outdid yourself with that one."

"I was just stating the obvious, for clarification, Raph." Ignoring his brother's smirk, Don crouched in front the chest, "Because, whoever brought this chest here might have left behind the implement used in moving it." He ran his hand along the edge, gripping it now and then, as if looking for handholds. He harrumphed, "Nothing out of the ordinary though. Nothing to grab onto at all." Stroking his chin, Don mused, "Could have used timber to roll it, but…I doubt they could, given the uneven nature of the cave floor. "

As Don further examining the chest, he ran his hand down around one end. That was when he noticed something odd. His eyes widened curiously, as his fingers felt around. There seemed to be an indentation of some sort. Don 'hmmed' softly, the kind of murmuring that usually guaranteed an idea. Staying in his squat, Donatello scooted sideways crab-like, working his way around that end of the chest and, the moment he did and saw what his fingers had felt, he smiled. He checked the opposite side and found the same thing.

Shaking his head, Don finally stood up, grinning, "It's already rigged with openings. They run from one end to the other, apparently bored through the stone, somehow, but there should be two long poles somewhere. Look for something about twelve feet long."

As Don began searching through the scattered debris of treasure, his brothers did likewise. Hesitantly, Will and Gibbs joined the hunt and then, finally, reluctantly, Jack and Elizabeth.

However, Jack's crewmen stayed back, standing close to the tunnel leading out to where they had the boats moored. Apparently, they were happy to observe the proceedings, rather than help look for the poles. Of course, remaining close to the one tunnel gave them the option of a speedy exit, but more importantly, it kept them safe from the strange, giant, humanoid turtles.

While they searched the cave, Elizabeth busied herself picking up items and looking underneath, systematically staying close to Sparrow. She waited until Donatello and his brothers were out of earshot, before sidling up next to Jack. As he bent down to lift up a golden chalice and inspected it with a critical eye, he heard the woman next to him whisper, "You sure you can trust these creatures?"

"I trust them as much as they trust me, lass." Sparrow returned the cup to its resting place, pretending to scan the cavern as Elizabeth continued the conversation.

"In other words," she narrowed an eye, glaring at the pirate, "until they serve their purpose?"

"Exactly, love." He smiled and then turned back to exploring the treasure again.

"Rather dishonorable of you, Captain Sparrow," Elizabeth sighed, "but it works for me. And you keep forgetting that I'm not your 'love'"

"Sad, but true…on both counts…Miss Swan," the pirate smirked, turning slightly her way, one eyebrow raised, "But, you can be sure my heart hasn't forgotten th'you belong to Mister Turner."

Elizabeth snorted, "You're impossible."

Sparrow grinned, "I try me best, lass!" and then moved a step away from the girl.

The woman gave a half sneer, scuttling after the man, and grabbing his arm for emphasis. Elizabeth growled low, "Still, you had better not get us killed, Captain. These…turtles seem quite capable of retaliating."

"Yes, I knows," the pirate shrugged from her grip, "and I am working on that problem as we speak." He cocked an eyebrow, "Have some faith, lass."

Elizabeth folded her arms in front of her and sniffed, "Rather interesting for you to talk about faith!"

Before Sparrow could add to their repartee, they Donatello suddenly remark, his voice echoing against the cave walls. Everyone stopped their search and turned towards him.

"I think I found it."

Donatello glanced straight up from where the chest sat. He noticed the pile of treasure made its way up towards a nest of rocks above it and as he focused past the dark, that's when he saw them.

Near the back and somewhat hidden in the deepening shadows, there stood two poles, almost in salute. At nearly twelve feet in height, they appeared planted among the rocky debris, crisscrossing at the very top where they leaned into one another. Don saw that the poles formed a simple V-shaped arc over the vast treasure below. Then, around the top and tying the ends together, he detected red cloth.

"Those poles up there, they might help us."

Don quickly began climbing the mound. He worked his way up through the collection of artifacts until he reached the pile of rocks. Much to his disappointment, though, when he yanked the poles free, he found that they were made of wood. Yet, no matter where Don looked, they seemed to be the only poles available. He gave one last glance around and sighed, before balancing the supports across his shoulder, and then making his way back down to where the others waited.

As Don rejoined his brothers and the humans, he stood the poles on end in front of him. Raphael laughed when he saw what they were.

"Wood?" S'not strong enough, brainiac!"

"It's all we have, Raph," Don practically snapped. As he eyed the poles' length and compared his visual measurements to the chest, "If they fit through the openings," he surmised, "then they have to be the right ones, and where they seem long enough to allow for handholds at both ends, too, they should work."

Curiously, Sparrow walked over and took one of the poles in hand. The pirate held it up, testing its weight, and then frowned with how heavy it was, but he seemed pleased, nonetheless. After running a hand along the length, he pulled out a short knife, pressing it into wood. When it barely scratched the surface, the man smiled, "Tis ironwood, lads, strongest wood in the world by my reckonin'. Axe-breakers they calls 'em." He gave the pole back to Don, nodding, as if quite certain of his assessment.

Don's eyes lit up, then, and he smiled, "Yes, of course. Aztecs didn't have sophisticated means to melt metals, such as iron, so they had to use what nature provided. Brilliant!"

Satisfied he had the correct poles, Don stepped back and brought the top ends down to where he could remove the red material. Working them loose, however, proved the cloth somewhat fragile, as it tore easily.

"Damn," he hissed, rather surprised, "I didn't take that into consideration. Must be pretty old." He looked over at Jack, who had already walked back to his friends, "How old is this curse, Captain Sparrow?"

Sparrow shrugged impassively, "Since the days of Cortez, or close to it. At least, that's what they say."

"So…that would make this over two-hundred and fifty years old?" Don's face screwed up a bit, "Interesting that it hasn't completely decayed by now, not with how much humidity there is in the cave."

"The way of curse, lad!" Gibbs remarked cheerily.

"Yeah…heh…guess so…" Donatello sighed, working carefully; not wanting to ruin what was most certainly an antiquated textile. Curse or no curse, Don had an appreciation for historic finds. Still, as he worked, he quickly saw that each piece of material had threading woven into it, like embroidery. It created a design and one that began to look familiar the more Don unraveled it.

His excitement intensified.

Once he had both pieces of fabric separated, he held one out, flag-like, exposing a rectangular shape. His brothers gathered around him, while the humans stayed back and watched.

It wasn't the shape, though, that caught Don's interest. It was the design embroidered into the material.

When his brothers realized what it was, their collective gasp echoed throughout the cavern. Don then took the other piece of fabric, holding it out as well.

He smiled, triumphant, "Raph, hold the poles, I need to use both hands."

As his brother took possession of the poles, Don carefully exposed both pieces of fabric. He grin widened further.

"Well, these are certainly the right ones," Don remarked, "The ties have similar drawings like what's on the coins, only the design on the right flag is incomplete, like what we saw in the cave. Except for the straight line running down from the last stair step here," he pointed, "it's nearly identical." He paused a bit, before adding, "Hmm…I wonder why it doesn't show a complete picture, though. Why only have a partial when the coins show the whole hieroglyphic?"

As Don thought about that, Jack turned to his friends. He swallowed nervously and it wasn't lost on the other three that he didn't like what he saw.

Keeping his voice just below a whisper, "What d'ye thinks this means, Cap'n?" Gibbs asked worriedly, "If these poles belongs to the Aztecs, that would mean they brought the treasure here…right?"

"I thought their gods did?" Will added.

"You knows as well as I do," Jack whispered, "that any prim'tive will blame a god for a vari'ty of ills - and gains. Yet, it seems a wee bit…tempting, t'have the poles readily available here and in this cave, no less." He glanced once at the four turtles and then addressed his friends again, "As ye know, Barbosa didn't take the chest," Gibbs nodded in affirmation, as Jack went on to explain, "He only gathered th'gold in buckets, transporting it to th'ship tha'way. He wouldn't bother with th'chest; t'wasn't valu'ble enough." He lowered his voice even more, forcing his three companions to huddle closer to him in order to hear, "However, if a god was indeed respons'ble…that straight line might mean there's more t'the curse." He grimaced, "The chest might be part of something more - sinister. Moving it might not be a good idea. The line running down might mean Davy Jone's locker! T'be safe, we best get the chest and its gold to th'Pearl as quick as poss'ble."

"Why not do as Barbosa did, Cap'n?" Gibbs asked, "I mean, why tempt fate."

"Because I wants t'make sure we don't leave any stone unturned, just in case the chest is necess'ry to break the curse. After all," Sparrow glanced over at Will, "the gold was IN the chest when you sprinkled your blood over th'coins."

Will gave an affirmed nod and then asked, "Right…and as for these turtles?"

"We use them to get the gold t'the boats."

"And what then?" Gibbs asked, eyeing Jack expectantly.

"Well…I don't know. Our pistols are useless where they're cursed n'all. Might have t'take 'em along."

Gibbs quickly remarked, his voice a bare whisper, "Too bad they be cursed, Cap'n. Intelligent or not, ya knows th' four would provide enough food fer th'men during the trip."

"Indeed!" Sparrow said grimly, "but until we break the curse, they stay our allies."

Three voices chorused determinedly "Right."

As the four humans discussed their own situation, the turtles engaged in one of their own.

Don gestured to his youngest brother, "Hmm…Mike, come here and hold this flag, I want to sketch the drawing down."

As Mike stepped up and grabbed one corner of the material and holding it out, Raph growled impatiently, "Don, we got more important things t'worry about than anotha art lesson."

"Hey, this might provide a clue and help us get home!"

Raph sighed, "How is that?"

"Well," Don explained, pointing to the flag Mike held, "this flag shows only one additional part to the hieroglyphic we saw in the cave."

"But, if the coins have the whole picture," Mike shrugged, "why bother with only part of it. I don't understand."

"Mikey," Don smiled patiently, "ancient civilizations often used a series of steps, or combinations when they had an important map. If you use them out of order, it could be disastrous. I believe this flag is telling us where to go next."

"Oh, kind of like an Indiana Jones sort of thing?" Mike grinned, the idea of an adventure sounding more fun than turning into a skeleton.

"Exactly, Mike! And where we want to get back to our time, we better do as the flag instructs."

Raph growled, "It better get us home, Donnie, cuz I'm past hungry. I could eat a whole mango orchard, the way I'm feelin'."

"Yeah, dude, only I'm in the mood for something else. I wonder if pizza's been invented yet."

Leo quickly whispered, "Don't think so, Mike, and I believe we better be careful with what we say while we're here. Need to remember where we are." He gave a sideways glance at the humans and noticed they seemed more involved with their own conversation, whatever it was they were discussing. He had just heard one of them say something about a Barbosa, but then their voices faded away, making it difficult for him to know what it was they were saying. Just the same, he had been too interested in Donnie's flags to pay any more attention to it.

Leonardo turned back to his brothers, mindful to whisper his voice, "Don, maybe later you can fill us in about this timeline, what to say, what not to?"

"I'll try," Don remarked, shoving a hand into his belt, procuring his notebook and pen. Flipping the book open to his last entry, "This particular century isn't necessarily my specialty." He looked over at the material again before commencing to scribbling another drawing into his notepad.

When he was done, Donatello looked back at the flag Mike held. Running a finger along the threading, Don remarked, "Here's the earthquake line, could be a mountain, of course, but - now we have another line running straight down from where the first one ends. I wonder where that next stop will be?" He looked over at Jack, pointing towards the seaside tunnel, "Captain Sparrow. Would there be another island that runs straight in that direction, from where you have your ship anchored?"

Jack shrugged, "Always an island somewheres, mate, but…" Still, the pirate turned to glance in the direction Don had pointed anyway. With his chin tilted upwards slightly, the man stared and then turned back, replying, "I believe there is."

Suddenly, Jack's eyes lit up, as if he had an idea. He smiled and walked over to the turtle, shoving a hand into his coat pocket. Bringing out a small octagonal box, black in color and trimmed with gold, the pirate seemed to regard it with reverence before glancing at Donatello again. Sighing, the man opened the box and handed it to the turtle, "This will tell ya in what direction ye needs to sail, mate."

Don took the proffered container and easily recognized what it was. He smiled, amused, "A compass! Neat!" However, unlike normal compasses, the pivot on this one appeared to dance around, avoiding the northwards heading completely. "But, it…it seems broken; it's not even sure where north is."

"S'not broke, lad. Jus'…give it time," Sparrow's grin softened as he added, "it needs…to get t'know ye first." His face then took on a wistful expression, "It's a rather unique compass, giv'n t'me by a…a good friend, a lovely lass she was, too…um is…I think?" His brow creased uncertainly, "…s'been a while, not sure if she's still 'round even…"

As Jack muttered on, Michelangelo stepped closer to Don, watching the needle on the compass move around haphazardly. It rounded the dial to the left, then the right, then all the way around to the left, and then, suddenly, it slowed on a particular direction point.

"Hey, look," Mike remarked excitedly, "It's stopping."

"It is?" Jack leapt eagerly to Donatello's side, forgetting his musings. He crouched a bit beside the turtle and, with brows rising expectantly, peered intently at the box. The moment he saw the pivot hover at a bearing south southeast of their present location, he declared happily, giving a single clap of his hands, "Well, look't that, it did." Then Jack straightened and cheerfully announced, "Ye certainly have th'magic touch…Donatello!"

"Heh, thanks!" Don seemed genuinely pleased with the compliment, still he was mesmerized with the strange compass.

With a flourish, Jack snatched the compass from the turtle, surprising Don, and had it pocketed before Don could react. The ninja blinked in surprise but shrugged, watching as the man whipped around to face his men.

Motioning hastily with one hand, "Hurry now, men, we have the bearings," the pirate quickly turned heel to face Leonardo, saying, "Me men will help ya, as many as ye need, s'we can get the chest onboard m'boat, eh…ship, as soon as possible."

"You seem to be in a rush, Captain Sparrow," Leo eyed the man warily. "Is something wrong?" The ninja easily spotted the nervousness in Jack. He wore it like the coat on his back and that had Leonardo concerned. Was there more to the curse than what the man admitted to?

"Wrong, wrong?" Jack laughed, "of course there's nothing wrong, lad, why should there be anything wrong!" Jack gave Leo a quick smile, before going back to ushering his men over to the treasure.

As Raph volunteered and took one of the poles, slipping it through the near side of the chest, one of Sparrow's men did likewise with the other. Soon, they had both poles inserted and ready for lifting. Just as Donnie assumed, they fit perfectly, too. There was enough extension both front and back and on each side for at least three men to grab.

Smiling wide, Don gushed, "Well, guess I was right after all!"

"Yeah, so long as the poles - or our shells - don't break," Raph complained, claiming the front left as his. "The chest and gold combined prob'bly weigh half a ton!"

"Oh, the poles won't break, Raph," Don remarked cheerily. He quickly grabbed the opposite side from his brother, "iron wood is aptly named. It's near impossible to cut down and it doesn't splinter, either, so these poles should work perfectly!" He watched as two of Jack's crewmen hesitantly slipped in behind him. They studied the back of Don's carapace with interest but when they saw Raph glare back at them, they immediately focused on the ceiling above, trying to act nonchalant.

Another two joined Raph, with six more sailors taking up the rear. Now, there were three handlers for each side, both front and back, making a total number of twelve carriers.

As it turned out, the poles were indeed strong enough to lift the heavy chest of gold and, between Sparrow's men helping Don and Raph, they managed to raise the chest from off its dais. Then, carefully, the carriers picked their way down through the stash of other treasure and across the small creek, heading towards the seaside exit.

Since all of Jack's crewmen who had come to shore were now busy carrying the chest, Sparrow walked alongside, making sure it didn't topple over. He watched as Gibbs led the way, with Will and Elizabeth just behind him, and the turtle Michelangelo between them and the ones named Raphael and Donatello. He glanced across the chest and saw that Leonardo seemed just as interested in keeping the treasure from tipping and he was glad for it. Still, the pirate wondered how they were all going to get out to the Pearl. He had only brought two boats to shore and one he had designated for the treasure. That was all it could carry, as it would have a hard enough time managing the chest without sinking.

The second boat would have had to ferry everyone else, and where it was originally built for ten, it would already be crowded with the original fourteen. Now, though, with the four turtles, that would mean he would risk sinking that boat as well. Jack sighed, wondering how he would get out of this one. He couldn't very well make the creatures stay behind, they would force their way for sure, unless…

He smiled, an idea coming to mind. Indeed, he did have a plan and one that might not sit well with one member of his team, but pirating was always about sacrifice…wasn't it?

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A/N - I wonder what Jack is planning to do! Muahahaha