Disclaimer

Yo ho, yo ho, there is no profit for me.

No matter how much I might like to write,

I only own the OC's.

Though everyone might like the story and all,

It's Eastman n' Laird's 'NT's!

Yo ho, Yo ho, there is no profit for me.

(Goes for any Disney-related characters too!)

xxxxxxx

Chapter 19 - A Treasure-full of Hostage

"Is he serious?" Mike screeched, trembling as much as the ground was.

"'Fraid so, lad," Gibbs sighed in reply and staring at his retreating captain and shipmates.

"He'd just leave us like this?" Mike looked nervously around at the island behind him, his eyes wide with horror. In the distance along the island's shore, he saw clouds of dust billow up from the various cliffs skirting the coastline. At first, it didn't register with him, but when some of the precipices crumbled into the frothing sea, Michelangelo's breath caught. He instantly recognized one of the cliffs as one he and his brothers had stood on only the day before. Then, the trees above and dotting the mountainsides seemed to sway, moving on their own as if a great wind had passed through them, but Mike knew it wasn't the case.

It only proved to him that the island was indeed falling apart!

As Mike made a high-pitched whine, Jack's first mate remarked, "He didn't leave us, lad, as much as he's gettin' a head start."

"Although your captain's methods leave much to be desired, Mr. Gibbs, I guess we'd better catch up!" Leo announced with grim determination. Scowling into the bay next to the rocky outcropping, the turtle in blue tried to determine the water's depth before diving in.

As Leonardo stepped towards the edge of the rocky outcropping, preparing to jump, he heard Mike groan, "You know, dudes, this curse thing sucks."

"Mike, quit yer bellyaching."

"Easy for you to say, RAPH! You don't' have a fear of…of sea dwelling monsters!"

"Well, if you don't get your carcass going," Raph fisted his hand, "yer gonna fear THIS land dwelling nightmare!"

"Raph, leave Mike alone; he has a right to be afraid."

"Yeah, Leo, go ahead 'n baby him, not that it's gonna help th'situation."

While Michelangelo hyperventilated, Leo turned and addressed the man, "Why would Captain Sparrow leave us behind like this, forcing us to swim to his ship. Has he no honor?"

Gibbs casually remarked, "Jack's a pirate through and through, mate," before shooting an irritated glance towards his retreating captain, "Have to admire his cunning, though."

Toeing the water experimentally, before he could dive into the bay, Gibbs felt someone grab him by the shoulder. Quicker than he thought possible, the man found himself turned around, and facing an irate, red-masked turtle.

"What in shell do ya mean, PIRATE?" Raphael spat.

Swallowing apprehensively, Gibbs wiped spittle from his face, and then squared his shoulders resolutely, "Jack Sparrow's a pirate, mate; we're all pirates, but th'curse is real and if ya wants t'get off this here island, yer gonna wants t'be on that ship out there." He pointed to the Black Pearl, "So you better get walkin'."

Gibbs huffed and pulled away from Raphael's grasp, giving him one last determined look.

"Walk? What do you mean 'walk'?"

Gibbs smiled wryly, "We walks, like takin' a stroll."

"We…don't swim?"

The man shrugged, "Ya could do that, Mike, but I prefers walking." Then, Gibbs turned and dove into the sea. The three turtles could only stand there, watching him in stunned, gaping surprise.

Suddenly, a loud explosion boomed from the island behind them and then another one. It effectively reminded the three turtles of their perilous situation and it didn't take a discussion to get them moving, either. Well…at least one of them took action.

"Well, no use just standing here…" Leo declared before diving into the bay to join Mr. Gibbs.

Raph was about to join his older brother when he noticed that Mike just stood there on the rocks, uncertain. The turtle in orange shifted from foot to foot, nervously wringing his hands. He looked back at the island, and then at the sea…the island…the sea…the island…the sea.

"Man, oh man, I just don't know," he whined, gasping for air like a drowning fish, "Wh…what if there's…Killer Whales out there, or, or…poisonous sea snakes, or…"

Suddenly, before he could continue his train of thought, someone from behind Mike grabbed his upper and lower shell. In a move too quick for him to react, the poor turtle found himself suddenly airborne and flying over the water where Leo had just plunged.

"Nooooooo!" he screamed as he sailed over the water, his eyes big as saucers.

Raphael laughed, quite amused, as he watched his brother fly through the air, arms and legs flailing about in desperation. Then, unceremoniously, he belly flopped into the sea.

The moment Mike disappeared under the water's surface Raph took an instinctive breath and jumped in after him.

Before long, the three turtles were trailing behind Mr. Gibbs…or, more to the point two were walking with one pulled along, the one trying desperately to swim back up to the surface. In either event, the four traveled along the seabed as one would on land, heading towards the Black Pearl moored a hundred yards out.

Now and then, Gibbs would turn around and look back at his three strange companions. His eyes were somewhat wide and Leo could tell that the man didn't seem at all comfortable with his situation. It was obvious to the terrapin leader that the curse was as new to Jack's first mate as it was to him and his brothers. Maybe without the curse, the man wouldn't have been able to swim at all and to find that he didn't even need to breathe underwater was stranger than four walking, talking turtles?

Just the same, Leo knew that water was an element his species was natural to, mutant or otherwise. Except for Mike, he and Raph seemed to be adjusting better than the pirate was.

As Leo looked over at his youngest brother, he smiled. Mike had finally resigned himself to his fate, walking on his own, now, without Raph having to pull him along. Still, if Mike's eyes could be any bigger, they probably would have popped from his head. Then, Michelangelo gasped and he seemed to be breathing heavily, desperately.

He was having an anxiety attack. As his head snapped up, then looked left and then right, and all around him - as if half expecting some monster to snatch him for dinner, it only grew worse.

Sighing, Leo swam over to his little brother and wrapped a comforting arm along his shoulders. He shook him a bit, to get Mike to look at him. He then mouthed, "It's going to be okay, Mikey."

Mike grabbed Leo's arm in desperation, hugging it, and quickly mouthed his concerns, his eyes growing bigger.

Leo chuckled and lipped, "I don't think Killer Whales live in these waters."

"You sure?" Mike pleaded, worry quite evident on his face.

"Positive. They're cold water whales."

Given the warm nature of their current environment, Michelangelo's fears slowly abated. He smiled a little. Soon, his worry dissipated completely. Now he looked around in wonderment at the overall beauty of the undersea garden called the Caribbean. That is, what Mike could see of it, since evening was fast approaching. The various rock formations seemed darker, now, as shadows deepened, with the various fish mere reflections of themselves, with what light permeated the shallow depths.

Hurrying along the seabed as fast as the force of water would allow, the quartet soon found their path bathed in soft twilight, but it wasn't long before the last remnant of sun slipped beneath the far horizon. Quickly replaced with the blue-black shroud of a starless night, in less time than a thought, the foursome found their watery world steeped in ebony. Only the lanterns from the longboats ahead of them on the surface guided their way. Yet, the rate at which the vessels progressed above created a desperate need for the four below to keep up.

Fortunately, where they walked, the bay was quite shallow and even with the waves along the surface, the water was clear, so it was easy for Leo and the others to see the sky above. Just enough light from the moon filtered through the clouds made it possible to notice the weather had changed, but it wasn't enough to change them, at least, not in the way Jack had described.

Of the four, Mike was the most relieved.

At one point, after watching the way the clouds had gathered, Leo tapped Raphael's arm and pointed upwards towards the surface. He mouthed, "Storm coming."

Raph nodded and then jabbed a finger towards their destination, brow furrowed determinedly.

Indeed, they needed to hurry.

Then, an explosion of white flashed bright across the heavens above, as lightening streaked the darkened sky. Its sudden appearance briefly illuminated the underwater world, exposing rock and fish with its radiance. Then, just as quick, it was gone and the four walkers found themselves steeped in shadow once again. Still, it was enough to confirm their heading. For a brief moment they saw the two boats up ahead, about ten yards out, their underside dark against the backdrop of sudden yellow white light. A moment later, another streak of lightening brightened their world. This time, they spied a much larger shadow far ahead of the longboats, the Black Pearl. Now, Leo's confidence grew that they would make the main ship before the storm commenced.

Of course, with each longboat outfitted with lanterns at their stern and bow, they helped to guide Leo, his brothers, and Mr. Gibbs.

Regardless, though, Mike thought it weird walking underwater, the way one would as if strolling along the beach. The only thing that made it frustrating for him was that they had to do so in silence. Despite the fact they didn't have to breathe, he found talking impossible.

As Mike ambled along, following his siblings and Mr. Gibbs, the forced silence caused him to be more reflective with where he was. At one point, his mind went back to wondering about the sea's inhabitants. A few fish swam in front of him, close enough for Mike to see - given how dark it was. Some of them were quite large - such as tuna. But there wasn't anything threatening and Leo did assure him that Killer Whales wouldn't be a problem here, so Mike relaxed a little more.

Suddenly, Mike thought about another predator.

Sharks.

The more he thought about them, Mike was certain that sharks lived in these waters and that sea turtles were something sharks would eat and if there was one thing he didn't want to be, it was dinner.

Mike's fear returned and with a vengeance, too.

Instead of grabbing Leonardo this time, he swam over and grabbed onto Raphael. However, he found himself brushed off as his brother pushed him away. Raph shook his head and tried to say something, telling him to 'knock it off', but only bubbles expelled from his mouth, not audible words. Undaunted, Mike leapt back and grabbed onto him again, holding tight this time.

"What's with you?" Raph mouthed, trying to push is brother off.

"Sharks!"

"Where?" Raph suddenly snapped his head around, pulling a sai, eyes wide, staring into the dark worriedly. All he saw, though, was either the sky above or the inky blackness of the nighttime sea. Certainly, he didn't see any sharks.

"No SHARKS!" he grouched, re-sheathing his weapon, and determinedly pushed Mike off him.

Mike turned to Leo, now, swimming over and grabbing his arm, pointing into the shadows, as he mouthed the dreaded word.

Leo smiled and took a sword from along his scabbard. He jabbed one end at the water and then pointed to Raph, jabbing again. Mike smiled, suddenly relieved. Of course, between the three of them, two would have the right weapons for such an encounter. He took one last look around and then Mike positioned himself in-between Raph and Leo. It didn't take long before he finally relaxed.

After a while, Mike bored of just walking along, so, he decided to have some fun. At first, he did exaggerated, slow motion runs, yet still kept in pace with his brothers. He pretended to run hard, his face contorted with determination, legs bicycling as fast as he could in the water, which wasn't fast at all, but more like slow motion. Leo and Gibbs laughed when they saw him, too, which only encouraged Mike, of course. Then, tiring of that, Michelangelo did forward flips and cartwheels, trying to be entertaining if not entertained.

For Mike, it was hard to be serious all the time, even with all that they had gone through, even though the fear of sharks - and Killer Whales - still edged his thoughts.

And Raph tried to be patient, he really did, but he soon tired of his goofy brother. This was serious after all; they had to catch up with the boats before Jack Sparrow changed his mind. They couldn't be distracted.

However, when Raphael attempted to knock some sense into Mike, he found the water slowed his attempt. Mike just grinned and easily ducked out of harms way. He then stuck his tongue out, teasing Raph, "Nya, nya, ya can't catch me."

And, of course, Raph took the challenge, but running through water was just as impossible as trying to slug someone and more comical, too. In the end, Raphael gave up the chase. Choosing to ignore his impish brother had the desired results, as well, for Mike soon bored with his underwater antics. Now, rejoining his brothers and Mr. Gibbs again, Michelangelo walked along the seabed, mindful about wandering off. If there was any other fear nipping at Mike's confidence, it was getting lost at sea. The last thing he wanted was to wander the depths alone as an undead entity, scouring the bottom of the ocean like halibut, fending off monsters of the sea, and scaring sailors to writing legends about him as he surfed the world's waves.

Of course, part of that thought did sound rather intriguing...

Still, if not for the boats' lanterns, Michelangelo was certain that he and his brothers and Mr. Gibbs would indeed lose their way. Maybe they would even fall into one of those bottomless trenches that he heard Don talk about one time, before they found themselves here. He shuddered at the thought and really wished he had a flashlight, anything so that he could see where he was going.

Yet, with every step and with every gulp of light from the longboats, Mike kept thinking about the curse. He couldn't help but occasionally check his hands. When all he saw was his fleshy green skin and the pale yellow of his hard and quite solid plastron, Michelangelo smiled. So far, he was still himself.

Halfway to their destination, the sea-bottom suddenly bucked and rumbled, a shockwave of power sending up clouds of sand rudely dislodged from its resting place. Small and large colorful fish, hidden among the shadows, now darted in front of the foursome. Some returned quickly to their dark sanctuary, startled by their encounter of the strange, bi-pedaled foursome, but the most, especially the bigger ones, headed out to sea and away from the island.

That had everyone's attention.

No words were necessary to convey what everyone was thinking, now. Every member of the underwater team was wide-eyed with clearly defined expressions of worry. Finally, Gibbs jerked a thumb towards the surface and, snapping his head in that direction, shot straight up, swimming hard as if his life depended on it.

It didn't take an invitation to get the turtles to do likewise. With their affinity to water, they easily caught up with Mr. Gibbs, passing him in route, but rather than leave the man behind, Leo grabbed Gibb's arm, pulling the man along until they finally breached the surface.

The moment his head cleared water, Mike gasped like a man out of breath, even though he never once had to suck air since leaving the island. That was the weird part, but surpassing his surprise, he discovered to his delight that the Black Pearl was only twenty-five yards away. The two smaller boats had already arrived, as well.

While the four bobbed like corks in the blackened sea and with the island groaning louder behind them, the swimmers watched as the Pearl's crew lashed the longboats to the side of the ship. However, one thing caught Mike's attention.

"How come the sails aren't down?"

"Are ye daft, mate?" Gibbs looked back at Mike, shocked, "Its sails are furled to minimize wind resistance, otherwise, with it anchored fast to the seabed, the wind'd rip the ship apart."

"Oh."

Still, Mike could see the Pearl worry the anchor line, pulling stubbornly at its mooring. In the gentle undulating waters of the Caribbean, the ship pitched and rolled, the masts tipping slowly from side to side, while the prow nosed the air, almost anxious to be on its way. Then, a sudden, loud boom had everyone looking back at the island with startled fear. When the distant peak of the volcano brightened ominously, a scurry of activity erupted on the bigger ship.

It seemed that Isla de Muerta was growing impatient!

The onboard sailors quickly dropped fish netting off the side of the Pearl, to allow those in the longboat to climb up and into the bigger ship, while others rushed about deck and climbed masts, readying to set sail. However, those in the longboat remained seated, each member fixated on the one behind them, the one carrying the treasure. It seemed that someone was straddling its sides and brandishing a six-foot wooden staff.

Despite the darkness, there was just enough light from both the smaller boats and the Pearl to create a silhouetted shape, and it was easy to see to whom the shape belonged.

"What in shell is Donnie, doing?" Raph yelled.

"I don't know, Raph," Leo shook his head, treading water alongside his brother, "but something must have happened."

"He better be careful, lads," Gibbs warned, "otherwise with as active as th'sea's goin' t'get, he'll sink that chest for sure!" Gibbs glared back at the two turtles, "an' curse or no curse', when that island blows, we'll be dead in th'water."

He then began swimming towards the Pearl, his strokes long and determined. While Gibbs worked feverishly to bridge the gap between him and his crewmates, the three turtles fell into place behind him, each one anxious to find out what Donnie was doing.

While in route to the Black Pearl, Jack had assured Donatello that they would wait for his brothers and Mr. Gibbs before going to sail.

"I'm still surprised that you would betray your first mate like that, Captain Sparrow," Don challenged. He glared at the man, wondering what other trickery the man had in mind.

"Twas nec'ssary. After all, lad, your mates might get lost in these seas and what better guide t'have than one such as Mr. Gibbs." He rolled his eyes, "'Tis hard choices we cap'n's have t'make, sor' like raisin' child'rn, though I don't haves any…at least, don't think I do, anyways." He looked thoughtfully towards the horizon, finger to chin, distracted slightly. Then, remembering his situation, he suddenly smiled, his eyes sweeping over to Donatello again, "B'sides, I knows Mr. Gibbs wouldn't have savvied the idea, so I made the decision for 'em."

"We could have made room, Captain, the way Miss Swan did," Don waved a hand to imply the crew. He noticed Elizabeth settle deeper into Will's embrace, staring worriedly at the turtle. Some of the men shrank back, too, probably imagining a turtle in their lap.

"Nay," the pirate waved the idea off as ludicrous, "and still haves maneuverability? They'd have sunk the longboats for sure." He sniffed then, "'Sides, tisn't my fault they couldn't carry everyone. How was I t'know there'd be turtles the size of men in that cave."

"You will wait for them, though, once we reach the ship?" Don asked, with one brow cocked suspiciously.

Jack smiled wide, "Of course, lad, I wouldn't 'ave it any otheh way!"

And Jack would have waited, too, so long as the island behaved itself. Yet, the moment Isla de Muerta belched smoke from its volcano, he mentally aborted his promise.

Unfortunately, what the pirate didn't count on was the turtle's ability to read facial expressions and Jack's face changed dramatically when his plans changed, and more so than the current situation would dictate.

Donatello saw the sudden spark in the pirate's eye when the island seemed to intensify its death throes. It convinced him even more that Jack wasn't a man of his word. Given the fact that Sparrow had outwitted his brothers from getting into the boat in the first place, if what Don suspected about the Captain proved true, he would find himself kidnapped and beyond his brothers' help. The thought of leaving Leo, Raph and Mike behind in the tumultuous sea - never mind Mr. Gibbs - sent a stab of desperation through the ninja. More so knowing their curse would torment them forever, but even worse with the island's demise. In fact, that thought was almost too much to bear.

So, while Don sat at the bow, while the others rowed towards the Pearl, he thought of a plan. Whatever he did would have to keep the ship tethered to the island, something that would endanger Sparrow's desire to return the gold. The gold was Sparrow's Achilles heel, his weakness. Don knew he had to exploit it.

Consequently, the very moment the crew onboard the Pearl began lashing the longboats to the ship's side, in a move born of countless hours of practice and battle strategies Don leapt up out of his seat. Before anyone could react, he leapt up and executed a forward flip, flying over the crews' heads, using his staff partway to further vault him towards the vessel carrying the treasure. In the blink of an eye, Don was straddling the boat in question, one foot planted along the top of each side, perfectly balanced, while he brandished his staff.

Of course, the added weight further pushed the longboat deeper into the water, but Don's even distribution of weight allowed an inch leeway. Yet, Don knew with the ocean's growing unrest, that it wouldn't take much before the sea swamped the boat entirely.

"Now, Captain Sparrow," Don declared, "you will keep your word and wait until my brothers and your first mate catch up," With his bo at the ready, his expression stern and resolute, "Otherwise, you will have to fish for the gold."

"D'ye not sees the island, turtle!" Jack exclaimed, pointing towards Isla de Muerta, and nearly screeching, "D'ya haves a death wish, lad?"

"I wish to live, Captain, but I would rather die," Don declared, "than leave my brothers - or even Mr. Gibbs, behind."

Jack swallowed anxiously, his eyes on the gold. He nervously watched as a small wave of water splashed over the sides and into the boat. One miscalculation from the turtle, one subtle shift in his stance could send the whole lot to the ocean floor and then…then Jack would wander the world, cursed until the end of days.

Another sudden, loud crack of impending doom resonated across the bay as the volcano coughed and then spewed forth its searing orange lava. It wouldn't be long, now, before no amount of balance would satisfy. Once the Isle de Muerta blew, all would be lost.

Still, Jack did as told. Glaring at the turtle, he sighed and sat down…and waited…and waited…and waited some more.

xxxxxxx

TBC