"So what the Captain did, he strapped a cannon to Bootstrap's bootstraps. The last we saw of ole' Bill Turner, he was sinking to the crushing black oblivion of Davy Jones' locker."

He watches Jack's piece of gold as it sails through the air, turning over and over and over again. It mocks him with his grim choice. The skeletal faces carved into both sides have open mouths that seem to sibilantly hiss.

"Kill your father."

"Save them all."

"Spare your father."

"Kill them all."

He catches the coin cleanly, clutches it with the other one already in his possession. Jack's is slippery with blood. His is not.

He hesitates, wavering for a moment under the weight of unspeakable horror at the responsibility set before him.

Then he hears the cock of a pistol, sees it pointed at Elizabeth, and swallows hard against the sudden bile plucking at his throat, cursing his divided heart. Too long, he thinks. He's taken too long. Now the cause is lost, and he knows what his choice would be.

The clap of a shot reverberates through the cavern, and he frantically searches Elizabeth's form for the welling of blood from a fatal wound, waits for her to fall lifeless at the bottom of a golden mountain of swag. He breathes again when he realizes that she's somehow unhurt.

"Ten years ye carry that pistol, and now ye waste yer shot," Barbossa sneers. He turns his head to see that the pirate's attention has moved away from Elizabeth and is now focused on Jack's almost sorrowful face.

And the decision once again lies before him.

The lady, or his father. Elizabeth, or his Da.

Swiftly, he takes the bone knife, slices open his palm, and covers the cursed coin with his welling blood. There is no hesitation now. He's been given the gift of another chance to set this all to right. There is no other way. With a heart laden with sorrow, and a whispered prayer for his father's soul, he speaks.

"He didn't waste it," he says flatly.

And he opens his hand to drop the coins.