"You'll regret this Jack Sparrow!"

"Doubtful my dear." He disagrees, pistol withdrawing as he tucks it - and the reather disturbing miniature of himself - into his sash and waves her off with a flourish. Pintel and Ragetti gladly complying in facilitating the Spaniards removal to the dinghy she'd arrived in, much to her apparent dislike.

"Filthy pirate!"

"Stick and stones, luv." He tosses flippantly over his shoulder as he turns to stride away. Any further insults falling on deaf ears as she's lowered to the sea below.

"Mister Gibbs!"

"Aye Cap'n?"

"If you'd be so kind as to tow the screeching harpy that is Ms Blackbeard back to Tortuga I'd be much obliged."

He shoots a look of contempt in the direction of said pirate murderess once more before he turns toward the solace of his cabin and the bottle of rum sat in wait.

"Aye Sir. Though it'd be a long shot such an unseaworthy vessel might not, uh by some accidental means o'course, come untethered amongst the reefs an' float away."

Jack's eyes widen in both surprise and appreciation for the older man stood at the helm as he stills, turning back on his heels with a flourish to face him with a smirk.

"Well we can hardly be accountable for that now can we?"

"Aye, Sir." Gibbs replies, bringing the ship about with a nod.

"Good man."

He retreats to the sanctuary of his darkened cabin, his hat and coat placed carefully upon their hangers before he seeks out the small chest tucked discretely beneath his bunk and rids himself of the voodoo doll might it never again become a cause for concern.

It was true that after Henry's destruction of the Trident Jack's luck had indeed seemed to change for the better. He'd regained the Pearl, squared his debt and retrieved Hector from the Locker without further incident nor the theft of his beloved ship, and with nothing and no one stopping him from raiding, pillaging, plundering and otherwise pilfering his weaselly black guts out, had proceeded to do exactly that, much to the enjoyment of both himself and the old crew.

But too soon it became that neither the thrill of piracy nor the burn of rum could take the edge off the dread that had been permanently churning deep within his gullet for the last few nights now. He considers the feeling once again as he retires to his desk, boots crossed upon the tabletop, rum bottle poised at his lips and he can only wonder at the feeling of loss, of emptiness that grips his blackened heart like a vice and leaves him breathless if he lets it.

He feels the ship creak and groan beneath him as if in sympathy at the current weight on his mind and suddenly he wonders if she too might feel the very same sense of foreboding as he.

A rather justified sense he's soon to discover when not two days later he finds the source of his mounting discontent in the form of the two men who've somehow managed to cause him the most aggravation in this world. Second of course only to the wife and mother of said whelps, as they'd appeared to ambush him upon the docks as he'd stumbled home from the Bryde.

"Hello, Jack."

"Will Turner!" He greets the scowl that matches how he feels on the inside with as much drunken enthusiasm as he can muster before he turns upon the other.

"Henry me boy," Jack grunts, somewhat surprised to find himself suddenly ensconced in a hearty embrace he automatically returns with genuine fondness, "Good te see ye still in one piece, lad."

"And you in pants." He quips, his smirk quickly softened by a sadness and fear that has Jack's smile falling away. An unexpected agitation growing in his chest at the distinct lack of the third Turner and he swallows.

"Why am I getting a rather sudden and nauseating sense of deva vu?"

Jack looks to Will for answers. His determined yet sorrowful expression causing his eyes to roll as he pushes past them towards the Pearl with a long-suffering sigh.

"Ye know ye really need te keep that bloody woman on a leash, mate."

"If I thought it might work, perhaps." Will snorts, much to Jack's surprise. His eyes narrowing just a fraction at the hint of bitter resentment in the hollow tone, though he doesn't mention it, instead filing it away for later far less drunken considerations.

"So, what do ye want me te do about it?" Jack cringes in disgust, not in objection to the woman herself of course, but for the bloody horrendously confused state she never fails to leave him in every time they've the misfortune as to need one another.

"Trust me I'm no more thrilled at having to ask but-"

"Let me guess," Jack stops, suddenly spinning to face Will head on, "Ye wee bonnie lass has landed herself, once again, in a spot of strife an' now ye need me an' me crew te go fetch her, right?"

"I don't need you," Will intones harshly, "Merely the use of your compass."

"Is that so?" Jack sniffs, not at all phased by his outburst but rather more entertained by the vein in the younger man's forehead that seems fit to burst.

"An' what if I'm not feelin' quite so generous as te be sharin' me effects wiv the likes o' you?"

"Then you sentence Elizabeth to death at the hands of Davy Jones."

Jack's face suddenly pales, his smug facade falling away much like his stomach as it suddenly drops to the vicinity of his feet.

"What?"

"You heard me." Will hisses, Jack recoiling at both the fear and the unmistakably uncomfortable ache Will's words suddenly stir within his heart.

"Elizabeth was abducted nigh on a week ago. We bid the Keeper's aid and he sent us to you."

Jack's lip curls somewhat at the mention of his father, "Did he now?"

"Please, Jack," Henry bids, his expression pleading, "We need you. She needs you. With no clue as to where or why we need your help-"

"So let me get this straight," Jack huffs, shifting his attention from the boy to his father as he breezes past, "You broke the Trident and released that accursed Davy Jones back upon the world an' now he's come back for revenge?"

"With your help!" Henry objects.

"And besides, Elizabeth's done nothing to him!" Will objects.

"He's not after ye wife, ye lummox." He scoffs at the younger man's ignorance of the facts. Plucking a bottle of rum from a passing crate as he board's the Pearl with the Turner's in tow. "Well, not entirely anyways."

"Then why take her?" He finds himself unsurprised when Will suddenly narrows his gaze once again in confusion, "And to what end?"

"Cause it's us he wants, innit?" Jack elaborates, gesturing between them with an absent wave of his hand as he makes his way to the helm.

"I helped stab the heart, you stole his ship. He takes her nibs knowin' full well ye've no choice but te seek out ol' Jack fer help in the finding of said charming murderess an' Bob's ye uncle, Nelly's ye aunt an' you an' me walk straight into an' entire ocean full of not good, savvy?"

"A trap?" Will startles, eyes wide with surprise.

"Aye." Jack grumbles an agreement before taking a good long pull on the bottle in his hand.

"What do we do then?" Henry ventures, Jack quirking a brow at the elder Turner as he replies.

"We've no choice, Jack," He shakes his head as he holds his gaze, "Who knows what he'll do to her if we don't take the bait."

"Or already done more like." Jack corrects, eyes glazing as he stares off into the distance with a morose expression. His time in the Locker no less vivid a recollection now than it'd been to experience.

"Don't pretend you're any less able to leave her to such a fate than I am, Jack."

He almost sneers at the remark. The reminder of his short comings effectively shaking him from his reverie. That Will knew it too only adding to his further dislike of the entire situation in general.

"Say I was te allow yerself the use of me prized possession te save yer dolly belle," He turns back to face them, swaying slightly as he comes to stand before them at the wheel. "Wha's in it for me then eh?"

"Always the opportunist." Will scoffs. Jack biting back a grin at having once again gained the upper hand.

"Pirate, mate."

Will's sigh is long-suffering as he produces a roll of parchment from an inner pocket of his coat and hands it out for him to take.

"This should satisfy the commandeering of your time and crew, Captain."

"What is it?" Jack deadpans, frowning down at it in suspicion and outright ignoring the mocking edge to the younger man's tone.

"A map."

"How astute," He smiles mockingly in response, "To what, exactly?"

"You are aware of the Flota de Indias, yes?" Will prompts.

Jack's expression sobers almost instantly, "Aye, what Pirate worth his salt isn't?"

"Then take me to Elizabeth." Will murmurs, purposefully holding the map out of his reach when he moves to take it.

"Help me free her and send Davy Jones back to where he belongs, and the location of the treasure fleet is yours..."

Jack considers him curiously for the longest time. Considers Henry stood at his side almost sick with worry at the loss of his mother while the other shows nothing more than a bone deep weariness and eyes seemingly devoid of that one burning emotion he'd expected to find there.

"Interesting."

"What is?" Henry bites. Will objecting testily when Jack opens his mouth to respond, a reaction which only serves to feed his intrigue more.

"Look we don't have time for this, Jack will you help us or not?"

He stares Will down with a sudden and all too knowing expression the other man instantly begins to shift beneath and Jack vows in that moment to find out just what the bloody hell was going on, even if it cost him half a barrel of his own private reserve of rum.

"Jack, please? Mother might be hurt-"

"Aye, mate, don't work yeself into a tis," He drops his gaze at Henry's urgent prompting and grasps his shoulder, "She'll be alright, she's tough yer ol' Mum."

"Do we have an accord then, Captain Sparrow?"

"Aye, Mister Turner, we do indeed," He nods with a resigned sigh, reaching out to take the elder Turners hand when it's proffered, "I'll help ye save ye Pirate Lass and end ol' Davy Jones."