Not According to Plan

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"I hate you."

"You're not the first person, love," said Sparrow, sending a crooked smile her way and ignoring her glare. "And don't worry - I'll let you go once we're sure that your dear commodore is on his way."

Scowling, Isabelle squirmed against the ropes that were holding her against the mast and muttering curse words in Spanish, all directed at Sparrow - since this was all his idea, after all, something about luring in her fiancé.

"Now where does a lady learn such bad language?"

Blinking in surprise, Isabelle tried to ignore the very satisfied grin that Sparrow had on his face. "I wasn't aware you spoke Spanish, Mr. Sparrow," she said curtly.

"Understand it, don't speak it," answered Sparrow with shrug. "Spent some time with a lovely, young Spanish woman - I understood quite a bit of that. I didn't realize you had such a sharp tongue on you, Miss Bennett."

"Of course you would," said Isabelle with a forced smile, while her eyes glinted hardly. "I'm sure that Spanish woman called you that many, many times."

"When I was running from her, yes." With a tilt of his head to the side, Sparrow studied her for a long moment, like a dog. "And how do you know Spanish so well, Miss Bennett?"

"My mother was from Spain," said Isabelle stiffly, not interested in talking about her mother with Sparrow. "She taught me when I was young." She glanced out at the water, and wasn't surprised to see the Interceptor pulling out the port and heading their way. "The commodore is coming. Will you please let me go now?"

"As my lady wishes," said Sparrow as he took off his hat and bowed lowly, all while sending her a smirk that made her want to scream some more obscenities at him. But he did as he was told, bringing out his sword and sawing away the ropes that held her to the mast. With in a mere minute, Isabelle was free and rubbing her arms. She never wanted that to happen to her again. It felt... it just felt wrong.

"Now what?" asked Turner, who had watched their whole exchange silently.

"We go hide over there," said Sparrow, pointing towards a spot near the other side of the boat. "And when the Interceptor pulls along side us, we'll swing over to it, and then we just sail away. They won't be able to follow us right away cause I've messed a bit with the rudder. It'll take a day at least to fix it."

Ignoring the part where they had to swing over the water, Isabelle frowned. "That sounds too easy. Are you sure it will work?"

"Positively," said Sparrow with a nod and started to walk towards their already predetermined hiding spot. "Now lets move before your future hubby gets here - I doubt he'd be very happy to see me at the moment."

Even as she nodded and followed Sparrow, Isabelle couldn't help but look towards the water, which would look so innocent at the moment to anyone else. But all she could see was bitter cold waters that would drag her down into the darkness, wrapping heavy hands around her neck and never let her go -

"Are you alright, Miss Bennett?"

Snapping out of her thoughts, Isabelle turned to the blacksmith and nodded currently. "I'm fine, Mr. Turner. Just ready to leave and save my brother and Miss Swann." That's right, she couldn't be worried about water when she needed to go and save her brother from the pirates that kidnapped him. Brushing aside her fear, Isabelle joined Sparrow and grabbed a rope.

"You sure you'll be alright?" asked Sparrow while glancing out towards the ship. "You didn't do so well with the water earlier. Strange for a Navy brat to be afraid, of the water that is."

"It doesn't really matter, does it?" snapped Isabelle. "Either I swing across with you two or stay behind and pray that the Commodore can actually save my brother." Which she wasn't so confident about at the moment.

"So what your saying is that... you don't trust your fiancé?" said Sparrow with a raise of his dark eyebrow, catching Isabelle off guard so much that she dropped her jaw momentarily before snapping it back up audibly.

"I-I didn't say that!" Isabelle squeaked. "James is my friend, of course he wants to save my brother! I just - " She bit her lip to stop her from going any further. There was no way in hell she was going to explain herself to a pirate. "I didn't say that I didn't trust Commodore Norrington," Isabelle went on calmly. "I just rather do things myself, rather then sit at home and wait."

"Mm." If he wanted to say more, Sparrow wasn't able to as Turner motioned for them to be quiet while the Interceptor pulled up along side them. Isabelle watched as men swung over on ropes and a board was laid across, and she looked away before she could see Norrington walk across it. She hated doing this to him - but what other choice did she have? And sitting around waiting was not one.

"Search every cabin, every hold, down to the bilges!" she heard someone call out. "Find all three of them - and Commodore Norrington has ordered that Miss Bennett remains unharmed!"

"Come on," said Sparrow, maybe noticing the look Isabelle gave when she felt a twinge of pain at her betrayal against the Commodore. "Swing across."

Nodding, Isabelle took a deep breathe and waited until both Sparrow and Turner had gone across before pushing herself forward, holding back a scream when she went flying across the water, praying that she didn't fall into the icy water. And only a few moments later, she hit the deck of the Interceptor with a 'omph', with radiating pain through her unprotected backside and with her hands burning from the rope. "Ow..." she whispered before forcing herself up. Hopeful, she'd never have to do that again.

"Isabelle?"

Her head snapping up so fast it gave her a headache, Isabelle paled at the sight in front of her. "Oh, bugger," she whispered to herself. She hadn't expected this.

It looked like Norrington had just stepped out of his office, and had been meet with two swords to prevent him from going any further or to call out for help. "What are you doing here - you're supposed to be on the other ship!" he went on, glancing between her and the ship she just left.

"And you were suppose to be on the other ship too," hissed Isabelle as she scrambled up, wincing and letting a hand go to her aching back. This wasn't happening, this wasn't happening! She turned to Jack. "Now what do we do?"

"Don't know - didn't plan for this," Sparrow muttered under his breath.

"Wait - you're working with Sparrow?" Norrington narrowed his eyes. "Miss Bennett, how could you?"

Isabelle wasn't able to answer at once, she couldn't look away from her fiance's gaze, filled with confusion and anger. "I'm sorry, Commodore. But this is a game I can't lose - not even to you."

There was a few long moments where the couple simply stared at each other, one filled with determination and guilt while the other was slowly understanding the betrayal. Finally, Norrington opened his mouth to call out to his crew, but a carefully placed sword under his chin stopped him. "I wouldn't do that, Commodore," said Sparrow softly. "Will, if you could, please watch our guest while I get the ship moving, and then take him to the brig. Miss Bennett, could you get rid of the ropes."

Nodding, Isabelle finally tore her gaze away from Norrington as his guard was switched, pulling out her sword and making quick work of the ropes that currently connected them to the ship they had borrowed. She gave the board a push, and watched as if fell into the water with splash, finally alerting the Royal Navy soldiers what was happening. They called out to their Commodore, and some of the braver ones tried to get back to the Interceptor - and all of them failed.

"Thank you for getting us ready to make way! We'd have had a hard time of it by ourselves!" said Sparrow with a sweep of his hat, mocking the men of the Navy as he sailed away on his ship. There were orders shouted out from the man that was second-in-command, one of them being not to shoot. At least they wouldn't be shot of of the water before they even left the pot.

Sighing with relief, Isabelle glanced back at her fiancé again. Norrington looked so angry, furious. Adjusting her sword in her hand, she approached the two men and nodded to the young blacksmith, who had his sword pointed directly at Norrington's chest. "Turner, go and see if Sparrow needs help. I'll take Mr. Norrington down to the brig."

Turner looked hesitant. "Are you sure...?"

"Yes, Mr. Turner, I'm sure," Isabelle forced out without snapping. She reluctantly raised her sword to Norrington. "Move."

Doing as he was told, Norrington didn't say or do anything till they had descended the stairs and were alone. Then he turned to her, ignoring the sword that was still pointed at him and shaking his head in disbelief. "How could you do this, Isabelle? He's a pirate! Your father will be furious when he finds out!"

"Don't you think I know that?" Isabelle snapped back. Her father's wrath was nothing to ignore. "But you don't understand, I don't have a choice! I have to save my brother."

"I was going after him and Miss Swann -" started Norrington.

"You didn't even know where the ship that has them was going!" Isabelle said angrily. "Just because you didn't want to ask a pirate about the Black Pearl."

"It wasn't the Black Pearl," said Norrington firmly.

"Oh, and there's another ship that is pitch black with sails to match and a cursed crew," said Isabelle sarcastically with her free hand on her hip. "I saw it myself - it was just like the stories!" Well, she hadn't really known it was the Black Pearl right away, but Johnathan had, when he saw it from her window, and that was enough for her. "And how else do you explain how the pirates couldn't bloody die no matter how many times I killed them!"

"Miss Bennett!" said Norrington, shocked at her language.

Rolling her eyes, Isabelle said quietly, "This is the best way to save my brother, James. He's the most important thing in my life, certainly more important than the law. And if that means owning my soul to the devil himself to make sure that nothing happens to him, then so be it." Or in her case, facing her father's anger when she returned home. She held her sword a little higher, a blank look on her face hiding all the emotions fighting inside her. "To the brigs, sir."

A few minutes later, Isabelle made her way up the stairs, blinking at the bright sun before looking towards the helm. "Where are we heading now, Mr. Sparrow?" she asked as she climbed another set of stairs.

Staring out at the ocean, Sparrow grinned. "Tortuga."

"Tortuga?" repeated Isabelle as she joined him at the wheel, horrified. She heard of that place from her father - it was filled with prostitutes, whores, drunks, murders - anyone could stay there with no fear of the law. "Why are we heading there, of all places?"

"I can't sail this ship with just two shipmates," said Sparrow. "Especially with both of you barely knowing a thing about handling a ship. I need a crew. And we'll find one there... hopefully."

"You mean you don't know?"

"It's not as if there's a lot of men that are willin' to go after the Black Pearl," shot back Sparrow. "We'll be scrapping the bottom of the barrel as it is just to find this crew."

Groaning, Isabelle plopped herself on a nearby crate, placing her face in her hands. "Lovely - my confidence in this trip has just doubled."

"Glad to hear that," said Sparrow cheerfully, earning yet another glare from Isabelle. "And you might as well get comfortable - its going to take us at least a day and a half to get there, even with this lovely ship."

"But this is the fastest ship in the Caribbean!" protested Isabelle. "Surely we can be there sooner than that?"

"If we were on a normal ship, love, it would take us another half a day or more," Sparrow informed her. "So... no."

"For the last time, don't call me love," Isabelle hissed. "What is with you and calling me that name?"

"Habit," said Sparrow with a shrug.

Rolling her eyes, Isabelle leaned against another crate, crossing her arms and legs with a sigh before she shut her eyes to try and block out the sunlight. She might as well get some rest, last night's lack of sleep was catching up on her. Too bad it was so bright -

"Before you fall asleep, Miss Bennett," said Sparrow suddenly, earning a groan as Isabelle cracked open her eyes and glanced over to the man at the wheel. "What did you mean when you shouted to the commodore, this was a game you had to win?"

"... I just can't afford for him to catch me this time, Mr. Sparrow," Isabelle said softly as she closed her eyes again. She knew in the beginning to realize that if Norrington caught her, he would take her back, with or without her brother home. There was the option that she could run far, far away where neither him or her father could find her. Then Norrington could marry Elizabeth once she was safely returned as well. He could be happy with the woman he loved, and that would never be her.

But she still had a sense of duty that nagged at her, whispered in her ear that she had to return home or else...

Something dropped on her head, and giving a tiny yelp of surprise, Isabelle's hands went to her head. Blinking, she peered up from underneath the large hat to see Sparrow returning to the wheel. "If your gonna sleep here, might as well have something to hide the sun from your eyes," said Sparrow simply.

"Thank you, Mr. Sparrow," said Isabelle after a long moment, for once cracking a small smile his way, even though his back was to her. She pulled the hat over her eyes and leaned back, ready to fall asleep...

Only to wake up some time later to the voices of Turner and Sparrow. Muttering under her breathe about how rude they were being, Isabelle lifted her hat to see both of the men talking to one another, though Turner did not look happy.

"My father was William Turner," said the blacksmith as he followed Jack around, who was checking ropes. "At the jail, you seem very interested in my name. Since you were going to help myself and Miss Bennett, I didn't press the matter at the time. But now I will. I am not a simpleton, Jack. You knew my father."

His father? Now that Isabelle thought about it, she'd never seen or heard of Turner's father. As long as she could remember, he'd been living with Mr. Brown, his blacksmith master. She thought he was an orphan or something. Did this mean his father was still alive?

After a long moment of silence, Sparrow sighed as he stood to face Turner. "I knew him. Probably one of the the few who knew him as William Turner. Everyone else just called him 'Bootstrap' or 'Bootstrap Bill'," he said with a shrug before going back to the wheel.

"Bootstrap?" said both Turner and Isabelle, revealing that she was awake.

Nodding, Sparrow's lip's twitched into a smile. "Glad to see you're awake, Miss Bennett. And aye, he was called Bootstrap. Good man. Good pirate." He glanced at Turner. "I swear you look just like him."

"It's not true," said Turner with a shake of his head. "My father was a merchant sailor. A good, respectable man who obeyed the law."

Isabelle almost snorted in laughter. Her father was a supposedly good and respectable man who loved to obey the law. Yet he was one of the most manipulative people she ever met. Everything he had ever done was for his own gain.

Maybe Sparrow heard the hesitant laugh, for he glanced her way momentarily before looking back to Turner. "Wrong," he said bluntly. "He was a bloody pirate, a scallywag."

"My father," stressed Turner angrily as he drew his sword, "was not a pirate!"

It was pure reaction, it had to be. Before Isabelle could even think about doing it, her sword was drawn out and she had placed herself in front of Sparrow, protecting him. "Enough. Put it away, Mr. Turner," she said in a cold tone. "Now."

"Not until he admits he's lying about my father!" spat Turner.

"How can I admit I'm lying if I'm not lying about the truth?" said Sparrow rather cheerfully. Of course, that didn't make Turner any happier.

With a roar of anger, Turner tried to attack Sparrow, but Isabelle easily blocked the blow with a swift flick of her sword. His was angry, making his moves obvious. "I'll say it once more, Mr. Turner," she said firmly. "Please put your sword away."

"She's right," spoke up Sparrow. "Put it away, son. It's not worth you getting beat again."

"You didn't beat me," said Turner with a snap. "You ignored the rules of engagement. In a fair fight, I'd killed you."

"Then that's not much incentive for me to fight fair, then, is it?" said Sparrow with a small shrug. "And besides, I wasn't talking about me."

Anger burning in his eyes, Will attacked again, and stepping back to avoid a blow, Isabelle twisted to the side before lunging forward, their swords meeting with a loud 'clang'. So enough, she found herself dancing with him, their steps matching each other and their swords creating music with each strike. For a moment, Isabelle felt like laughing, even in the face of danger, because she never got to do this when she was at home. She always had to be careful not to be hurt, or breaking anything. Here, on the Interceptor, there was no thoughts like that. It was real - the pain in her arm from holding up the sword, the palm of her hand burning from gripping the handle so tightly, and the thumping in her chest as her heart beat from exhilaration.

Suddenly though, Jack pulled Isabelle down to the ground with him, who gave a sharp yelp of indignation at the tug on her arm, while he gave the nearby wheel a sharp turn. A low wooden groan filled the air, and Isabelle watched with wide eyes as a mast flew over her and hit Turner square in the chest, knocking the breath out of him and causing him to drop his sword with a clatter. It was by sheer chance that he managed to cling to it as the mast pushed him off the ship, leaving him hanging over the ocean.

"Are you bloody mad?" said Isabelle as she stood, giving Sparrow a dark look. "You could have knocked me overboard."

"Ah, but I didn't," pointed out Sparrow as he picked up Tuner's fall sword. "At that's the point."

"Did you really think I couldn't beat him?" Isabelle asked with narrowed eyes.

"I think you could have if you wanted to, love. But I was getting bored."

Rolling her eyes in sheer disbelief and at the blasted nickname, Isabelle sheathed her sword and crossed her arms as Sparrow turned to Turner, who was struggling a bit to hold on to the mast. "Now, as long as you're just hanging there, pay attention," he said as he rapped the sword against the ground. "The only rules that really matter out here are these - what a man can do and what a man can't do."

"Or a woman," muttered Isabelle under her breathe as those words hit deep. It reminded her of what her father once told her - ladies hide away in shadows when not wanted, only enjoying the sunlight when the men wanted them to. There were things women couldn't do while the men were free to do so. It was by chance he even let her indulge in swordplay.

"For instance, you," Sparrow pointed to Turner, "can accept that your father was a pirate and a good man, or you can't. But pirate is in your blood, boy." He shrugged. "So you'll have to square with that someday."

The look on Turner's face was enough to make Isabelle wince in sympathy. Learning that one of your parents, one of the people you looked up to and trusted, was a pirate must have hurt him deeply. Just like it hurt her the day she learned her father was not the strong and powerful man she thought he was, but a bully.

"Now, me, for example, I can let you fall and drown," said Sparrow rather cheerfully, "but I can't bring this ship into Tortuga all by me onesy, even with Miss Bennett's help. Savvy? So." He reached over to the wheel and gave it a small turn, so that the mast moved back over the ship, letting Turner fall back onto the deck with a loud 'thud'. Flipping the sword in his hand, Sparrow offered it back to its owner. "Can you sail under the command of a pirate? Or can you not?"

Raising an eyebrow, Isabelle was a little surprised, and maybe even impressed, by the pirate. She didn't think pirates really gave you choices. But it seemed that Sparrow was... different. Maybe even a decent human being?

Withdrawing that thought with a snarl, Isabelle marched away and down the stairs as Turner accepted the sword and the offer Jack had given him. Pirates were all the same. They lied, murdered, and stole to get what they wanted, and didn't care about anyone but themselves. They were the worst of the worst.

Leaning onto the railing, Isabelle stared out at ocean she hated so much while absentmindedly playing with the black pearl necklace around her neck. Who would ever want to be a despicable pirate?

~o0o~

Knocking once, then twice the door, Johnathan was already patiently waiting a reply from Miss Swann before entering. But the two pirates, who's names he learned were Pintel and Ragetti, just strode in, pushing him forward.

"What do you want?" Miss Swann asked them with a snap. She was still in the nightgown she arrived in.

"You'll be dining with the cap'n tonight," Ragetti said with a grin, "and he requests you wear this." He smacked Johnathan in the arm, and the boy winced before holding out the red velvet dress that was in his arms.

Miss Swann glanced it over once before turning away with a huff. "You may tell Captain Barbossa that I am disinclined to acquiesce to his request."

Johnathan could tell that the two pirates grinned without even looking at them, and he blushed a dark red in embarrassment as Pintel said, "He said you'd say that. He also said that if that be the case, you'll be dining with the crew - and you'll be naked."

Ragetti giggled happily at that.

Giving the men a look of disgust, Miss Swann took a moment before giving finally them both a look of smugness. "Alright then. I accept. But the boy will have to stay and help me dress."

Pintel scowled, clearly disappointed, "Fine, then." He shoved Johnathan forward again before he and Ragetti left the room, closing the door with a slam.

"Are you alright?" Miss Swann said with a concerned look as she came forward. "It doesn't look like their treating you well."

"Its alright, ma'am," said Johnathan politely. "They just push me around a little." In fact, everyone except those two treated him rather well, mostly thanks to Captain's Barbossa's direction and the watchful eye of Blanchet. He worked hard, but that he expected too.

"Why in the world would you sneak aboard a pirate ship?" asked Miss Swann with a shake of her head in disbelief. "You could have been killed."

"Because I want to be a pirate, ma'am," said Johnathan, his chest puffed out. He didn't want to be like his father. "I always have."

"... I think that I can understand that," said Miss Swann with a small smile as she took the dress from his arms.

Sometime later, Miss Swann, now in the red velvet dress, was sitting at Barbossa's table, the captain sitting across from her. Johnathan stood off to the side, ready to do whatever the captain ordered him to do. The large round table in front of her was full of food and drink: chicken, fish, a roast pig, fresh fruit, bread, and wine that was shown in candle light, almost reminding the young boy of a fancy dinner party. Of course, never before had he have to set up his own dinner parties - the maids and the butler did that.

Carefully Miss Swann started to cut off a small piece of chicken with her fork and knife, acting very ladylike. At that, Barbossa gave a small laugh. "There's no need to stand on ceremony, no call to impress anyone. You must be hungry."

Hesitating for only the briefest of moments, Elizabeth put down her silverware before she picked up the piece of chicken with both hands and started ripping chunks off with her teeth.

As she did so, Johnathan could see Barbossa watching her eat, a wistful expression on his face. It was then that Johnathan noticed the Captain hadn't touched his food, and remembered what Blanchet had told him last night - about him and the rest of his crew not being able to eat. It made him feel a little sorry for them.

Grabbing a piece of bread and attacked it, Miss Swann barely noticed as Barbossa waved Johnathan over, making him pour wine into a nearby goblet. "Try the wine," he said as the cabin boy held out the goblet. Snatching it out of his hand, Miss Swann drank greedily. The pirate captain smiled. "And the apples? One of those next?" he said, holding out a green apple.

Glancing at it, Miss Swann was about to take it when she stopped, as if suddenly realizing something. "It's poisoned," she said as she dropped her bread back into the plate.

Barbossa chuckled. "There would be no sense to killing ye, Miss Turner," he said, calling her by her fake name as he made Johnathan back away to his former spot. The boy still wondered why she gave the captain a fake name.

"Then release me!" demanded Miss Swann. "You have your trinket, I'm of no further value to you," she said, reminding him of the golden medallion she gave him in return for leaving Port Royal alone.

Bringing out the said medallion, the Captain held it out for her to see. "You don't know what this is, do ye?"

"It's a pirate medallion."

"This is Aztec gold," Barbossa informed her, letting the gold twist in his hands and glint in the candle light. "One of eight-hundred and eighty-two identical pieces they delivered in a stone chest to Cortes himself. Blood money paid to stem the slaughter he wreaked upon them with his armies. But the greed of Cortes was insatiable. So the heathen gods placed upon the gold a terrible curse." Johnathan watched as a dark look came over his Captain's face. "Any mortal that removes but a single piece from that stone chest shall be punished for eternity."

"I hardly believe in ghost stories anymore, Captain Barbossa," Miss Swann said after a long moment with a shake of her head. Johnathan looked to his feet, shuffling them back and forth. Oh, if she only knew what he saw last night.

"Aye!" said Barbossa said as he stood, walking around the table. "That's exactly what I thought when we were first told the tale. Buried on an Island of Dead what cannot be found except for those who know where it is." He stood behind Miss Swann now, leaning in close, and Johnathan saw the lady shiver. "Find it, we did. There be the chest. Inside be the gold. And we took 'em all," he said as he made a fist, as if grabbing the gold at that very moment. "We spent 'em and traded 'em and frittered 'em away on drink and food and pleasurable company," he went on as he walked to her other side, leaning in again. There was another strange look in his eyes, and even Johnathan held back the urge to shudder. "The more we gave 'em away, though, the more we came to realize, the drink would not satisfy. Food turned to ash in our mouths. And all the pleasurable company in the world could not slake our lust. We are cursed men, Miss Turner."

The Captain finally leaning away, Johnathan saw that Miss Swann almost sighed as Barbossa went on. "Compelled by greed, we were, but now we are consumed by it."

The monkey was screeching, jumping up and down on its perch, and Barbossa turned to hold it. "Boy, hold Jack," he said, transferring the monkey to his cabin boy. Nodding, Johnathan let Jack climb up to his shoulders, his tail wrapping around his neck like a scarf as he chattered.

"There is one way we can end our curse," Barbossa said, handing the coin to the monkey, who started to gnaw at it like it was a piece of fruit. Then he turned back to Miss Swann. "All the scattered pieces of the Aztec gold must be restored and the blood repaid. Thanks to ye, we have the final piece."

Suddenly, Johnathan felt a little sick as Miss Swann swallowed visibly before she slowly asked, "And the blood to be repaid?"

The grin that flashed across Barbossa's face was wicked. "That's why there's no sense to be killing ye... yet. Apple?" he asked as he held out a bright green one.

Standing, Miss Swann knocked the apple away and brought out a knife, one she had concealed inside her napkin. She slashed at Barbossa before trying to race around the table to the door.

"Arr!" Barbossa grinned as he blocked her way.

Giving a started yell, Miss Swann whirled around, but strong arms wrapped around her, holding her out in surprise, Miss Swann tried to worm out of his grasp, and and when she found herself facing the pirate captain, she stabbed the man right in the heart.

Horrified with what she done, Miss Swann stepped back when Barbossa dropped his arms, staring at his own chest. He then lifted a hand to his chest and pulled out the now bloody knife with a disturbing 'slick'. Off to the side, Johnathan could only step back until he hit the wall, too scared to do anything while Jack screeched in his ear.

Barbossa chuckled. "You, know, I'm curious," he said with a smirk. "After killing me, what is it you planning on doing next?"

In answer, Miss Swann turned and ran through the doors. The monkey leaped down from Johnathan's shoulders and raced out the door, still clutching the gold coin when screams filled the air, and it was obvious who they came from.

Letting the bloody knife fall to the floor with a clatter, Barbossa turned to Johnathan, who was still wide eyed while listening to Miss Swann scream. "From now on, Miss Turner is not allowed to leave her room, and yer to keep watch over her till we reach the island. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Captain Barbossa," said Johnathan with an automatic nod.

"Good." Barbossa picked up another bottle of red wine, gave it to Johnathan, and waited a minute before he stepped forward - just in time for Miss Swann to run into his arm. He then forced her to turn and face the deck, which Johnathan could see was covered with cursed crew members that resembled the dead again. "Look!" he shouted, not letting her look anywhere but upon the skeletons that had only just a few hours ago been men. "The moonlight shows us for what we truly are! We are not among the living, and so we cannot die, but neither are we dead!"

Barbossa turned Miss Swann back to him, making her look into his eyes before she tore herself from his grasp. "For too long I've been parched with thirst and unable to quench it," he spat. "Too long I've been starving to death and haven't died." Miss Swann stepped back as he slowly advanced on her. "I feel nothing, not the wind on my face nor the spray of the sea, nor the warmth of a woman's flesh." He reached out to her, and as his hand came into the moonlight, the skin disappeared, leaving nothing but skinny bones that the young lady flinched from.

Glaring at her now, Barbossa kept walking into the moonlight. "You'd best start believing in ghost stories, Miss Turner." Now fully in the light, he was the same as the others - a walking skeleton. "Yer in one!" And as if to prove his point, he grabbed the bottle of red wine from Johnathan's hands. Pulling off the cork with his very visible teeth and spitting it to the side, Barbossa threw his head back and gulped down the drink. Johnathan felt sick as he watched as the drink ran down his throat and into where his stomach used to be, coating his ribs red. But instead of stopping there, it splattered to the floor and over Johnathan's shoes, creating a dark puddle that reminded him of blood.

Looking sick, Miss Swann tore passed the cursed captain and raced back into the captains guarters. Johnathan wished he could join her, anything to get away from these monsters, but he couldn't move. Not even when Jack the monkey appeared, skeletal for a moment before he entered the room and leaped back on his shoulders.

Throwing the bottle and letting it smash into a wall, Barbossa slammed the doors shut, just avoiding hitting Johnathan, before he turned back to his crew and laughed. Everyone joined him except for the cabin boy, who felt very sick after all this.

"What are ye looking at?" Barbossa suddenly barked, stopping the laughs. "Back to work!" He glanced at Johnathan. "Clean up this mess and then go escort Miss Swann to her rooms," he ordered before marching up the the wheel.

Nodding, Johnathan ran to get a bucket and a mop, his shoes filled with wine that was squishing uncomfortably. He was starting to think he made the wrong decision, joining this pirate crew. But now it was too late to do anything about it. He was stuck.

Sniffling, Johnathan rubbed his runny nose against his sleeve before grabbing what he needed. More than ever, he wanted Isabelle.