Blackbeard looked at Jack with tired eyes. He knew at one point someone would discover his secret. It was not as if he had been keeping a low profile. He reached for a bottle of whisky and took a long drink from it, never once taking his eyes away from Jack.
"It has been a long time since someone has called me by that name," he grumbled.
Jack smirked, "Smoking beard. Now that, is a nice touch."
Blackbeard eyed Jack warily as he wandered around the cabin.
"It find men are too frightened to remember the face."
Jack paused in his wandering, "Thomas Porter, no, the mighty Blackbeard. Beheaded, some say. Still your body swam three times around your ship then climbed back onboard. And here you are. Running scared."
Blackbeard scoffed, "Scared."
"To the fountain," Jack pressed.
Blackbeard sighed, "The quartermaster sees things before they happen. He has foreseen my death. And so the fates have spoken. The threads of destiny woven."
Jack looked at him incredulously, "You have a ridiculously high regard for fate, mate."
Blackbeard looked at Jack in amusement, "And you?"
"Me? I'm skeptical of predicting any future which includes me."
Jack secretly tucked the knife under his sleeve, he had been holding it since he had pulled it out of his shirt, and had slowly been formulating a plan as he walked behind Blackbeard. Things were slightly more complicated now, but Jack had seen that the Thomas Porter he had once known was gone.
"It be foolish to battle fate, but I'd be tempted to cheat it. I will reach the fountain. You will lead me," Blackbeard paused for a moment, "That knife will serve you no better than the mutiny.
Jack smiled, "Mutiny served me well. It gained me an audience with you."
Blackbeard who had been working discreetly on something at his desk looked up towards Jack.
"Oh?"
"Aye," answered Jack sitting in front of Blackbeard and plopping his legs on the desk, "To warn you. Regarding your first mate. Who pretends to be the person she is not."
Blackbeard smiled, "Do tell."
"She is not your daughter."
Blackbeard smiled even wider, "I never said she was."
Jack looked at him in confusion.
Blackbeard sighed, he knew he would have to explain himself sooner or later, "I need the Fountain of Youth, and there is no one on this planet who knows its whereabouts better than you. Angelica is simply a means to an end. A way of acquiring you and therefore the Fountain."
Jack was seething by this point.
"You mean to tell me that you came across this woman, and you allowed her to believe that she was your daughter all so that you could get me on your ship to bring you to the fountain?
Blackbeard looked at Jack, yet said nothing.
"You are aware that you have a very real, very alive daughter are you not?"
Blackbeard sighed, going back to fiddling with the small trinket on his desk.
"I am not the same man that you remember Jack Sparrow. When the battle between the Pirate Lords ended, I was left stranded in the middle of the ocean, barely alive, I was saved by a twist of fate."
Jack couldn't help but roll his eyes as he soon became much more interested in the strange items cluttering the cabin.
"Calypso granted me this ship, a ship only I can control, one that contained the power of the seas. And as does the sea, I must take lives in order to remind sailors of my power. To them I am a fearsome God, one who can take their life away in an instant," he paused his eyes now far away, in another time and place,
"I held my daughter, in my arms just after she was born," he continued softly, "she was so small, so beautiful...so..perfect. I knew if I remained in her life, I would only cause her pain."
He looked towards Jack with sadness in her eyes, "So I left, I left her and her mother, and took up the sword and the name of Blackbeard. And left her to face the world on her own, not as the daughter of Thomas Porter. I left to protect her."
Jack felt himself unwillingly becoming understanding of Blackbeard, yet at the same time. He snorted.
"Fat lot of good that did," he said turning back to Blackbeard, an ornate fan in his hands, "Perhaps you have been too involved in your...God like doings..." Jack made a highly disapproving sneer, "But she was always known as Thomas Porter's daughter. That never changed. In fact she has followed your every move. Pirate King. Sent Beckett to the depths."
Blackbeard watched Jack carefully, saying nothing.
"A force to be reckoned with Catherine," Blackbeard jerked at the mention of his daughter's name, "That is until your fake daughter, or whatever, left her to face her fate with the king's own soldiers. Congratulations. You win the father of the year award."
Blackbeard glared at Jack.
"We were doing just fine until you and your little," Jack gestured wildly towards the door where there was no doubt in his mind Angelica was listening closely, "Thing, decided to shake things up."
"We?" Blackbeard questioned, realizing that the rumors he had been hearing for some time now, were in fact completely true. He had not wanted to believe them. His daughter deserved more than a pirate.
"Father!" Angelica called running into the room, she had no desire to hear anymore of the conversation, she did not want to let it go any further.
Jack turned immediately to welcome the new addiction to the cabin.
"Sweetnees!"
Blackbeard suddenly stabbed the small trinket he held. Jack felt a burning pain in his side. It was more pronounced and sudden, that he knew it was not just the pain he felt from the distance between him and Catherine.
"No need to hurt him father," Angelica said in a sickly sweet voice causing Jack to glare in Blackbeard's general location, "He will help us, won't you Jack?"
Jack noticed the small trinket Blackbeard held in his hands was in fact a very crude replica of himself. Blackbeard slashed at the doll again, Jack couldn't stop the small gasp of pain that escaped from him. He gingerly opened his shirt to see a ragged pitchfork scar on the right side of his chest. He looked at Blackbeard in disbelief. After all that he had seen in his life, this was a surprise.
Angelica stepped close to Jack, so close, that Jack leaned back in disgust. Too close. She was too close.
"You WILL lead us to the Fountain. Yes?" she said in a sultry voice.
Blackbeard sighed, gesturing with the same knife he had used to carve a pattern in Jack's chest.
"Put it another way," he said in his gravelly voice, "If I don't make it to the fountain in time, neither. Will. You."
Jack felt his stomach drop. He was trapped. More so than he had been in a long time. And with no way to know how Catherine fared.
He sighed, "I will have a wee look-see at those charts straightway then, shall I.
Catherine had always been the one to make the charts reveal their secrets.
Catherine.
Barbossa rolled his eyes as he dropped another cube of sugar in his tea, glaring at the person sitting across from him. He sliced a small piece of apple and handed it to Catherine.
"Here," he grumbled smirking at her glare, "see if you can't keep that down."
He eyed Catherine carefully as she cautiously nibbled on a corner of the apple. Barbossa himself took a greedy bite, never once taking his eyes from her. He was interested in the Fountain, that much was true, but Catherine was one of the few pirates he actually liked. He hated seeing her as miserable as she was now. Her usual bright eyes were sunken in from lack of sleep, dark circles lay beneath them. Her tan face now seemed a bit green if he were to be honest.
"Sir!" a curt yell took Barbossa's attention away from Catherine, to see Groves approaching the ornate.
"...Aye?" Barbossa answered expectantly.
Groves cleared his throat, "Sir. I am unhappy to report rumors sire, among the crew as to our destination."
A scowl planted itsself on his face.
"Shut your trap and make way."
Catherine, despite her sickly appearance, snorted in a rather unladylike fashion at Barbossa's harsh nature. He growled when Groves didn't move and ripped his peg leg from a stand by the table and shoved it on his leg.
"That's the way of it then?" he grumbled lurching his way to stand in front of the crew.
Catherine was about to follow when a sudden lurch in her stomach made her rush towards the rail.
Barbossa watched after her and rolled his eyes as she leaned over the railing.
"No disrespect sir," Groves answered drawing Barbossa's attention to the matter at hand.
"What do the men fear? Say it!" he demanded, "Speak the words."
Groves looked down at the deck, "Whitecap Bay."
"Aye," Barbossa nodded limping over to address the crew, "Whitecap Bay. Every worthless seaman fears the name, and rightly so, though few know why or dare ask."
"Be the stories true?" Gibbs whispered.
"Listen that your voice should quiver like a fiddle string! Say what robs you of your staunch heart, Gibbs, or forever leave it to the whiter fields of fancy."
"Mermaids, captain?" Gibbs breathed.
Barbossa smiled wickedly, "Are. Mermaids. Se ghouls, devilfish...dreadful in hunger for flesh of man. Mermaid waters, that be our path. Cling to your soul, Gibbs, as as mermaids be given to take the rest, to the bone.
The crew murmured in fearful voices about the uncertain future of the ship. Groves stepped up next to Barbossa.
"Steady! Steady men! Find your courage! Or be ready to purpose your fear!"
A sailor ran to the railings and jumped over.
"SAVE YOURSELVES!"
"Man overboard!"
"Nay!" cried Barbossa stopping everyone in their path, "A deserter!"
"Come about!" shouted Groves.
"Nay gentlemen. I should not ask any more of a man than what that man can deliver, but I do ask this: are we not King's men! On the king's mission? I did not note any fear in the eyes of the Spanish as they passed us by. ARE WE NOT KING'S MEN!" Barbossa challenged the crew.
"AYE!"
"Aye! Hands aloft, and bear away! Stave on ahead to Whitecap Bay!"
Barbossa turned away from the crew, he had done an incredible job in rallying the crew but the truth was he was not concerned at all that they had been afraid in the first place. Truly the feelings of the crew did little to affect him. He brushed by Gibbs and tucked himself away in the Captain's cabin.
Gibbs sighed, this was not quite the way he had anticipated searching for the fountain. A soft coughing caused Gibbs to rush over to the railing where he helped Catherine sit down in the shade. He handed her a cup of tea from Barbossa's previous attempt at a nice breakfast.
"It's been a long time since I've seen someone as sick as you."
Catherine sighed taking careful sips of the tea, willing it to stay down, "I'm not sick," she said softly.