Elizabeth barreled toward Will (of course), her mouth a thin line that spoke of vengeance. Joanna, on the other hand, stood in a pool of doubloons and felt indecisive.

I'm gonna die in this stupid cave, Joanna thought, glancing frantically from Will's battle to Jack's. She truly was useless. What sort of help could she, a tailor with ambitions, offer to a career criminal or a trained swordsman? She'd be run through before she could lift a finger to do anything.

Joanna hid nervously behind an ornate grandfather clock, peering with large eyes at Jack's harrowing skeletal figure. If I was immortal, this wouldn't be a problem, she thought.

Joanna's flurrying thoughts came to a screeching halt. Why couldn't she be immortal?

Why shouldn't I be a spooky, terrifying, smelly skeleton? She thought furiously as she stalked across the cave. No one seemed to pay her any mind; if they did, they quickly turned back to their more imminent battles. Joanna jumped over a pool of black water, thinking, Why the hell are the immortal coins reserved for pirates and scoundrels?

Women who carry needles and daos should have cursed coins as well, Joanna thought. With a grim, satisfied smile, Joanna thrust her hand into Cortez's gold and stole one for herself.

Joanna immediately felt dull and colorless, as if she had been plunged into a sepia painting. She breathed hard and was shocked by the blandness of the air. Feeling insubstantial, made of dust and nails, she turned back to Isla de Muerta. Her torpid gaze zeroed in on Barbossa.

Joanna blinked and suddenly she was halfway across the cavern, sword poised to carve out Barbossa's shoulder. You stole Jack's ship, my brother, and my brother's soon-to-be-fiancé, Joanna thought, and the sword found home.

Barbossa cried out in fury, whirling to glare at Joanna with yellow eyes. The dao remained buried in his shoulder; the tip peeked through his upper chest, glistening red.

Joanna glowered back. She did not feel quite like herself -- she felt like she would enjoy sticking a blade through his other shoulder, so he would be symmetrical.

In Barbossa's shock and anger, he turned his back on Jack Sparrow -- a grave mistake, as Joanna had learned many times. "Nice one!" Jack crowed, yanking the dao out of Barbossa's back with a swift tug. In a flash, he had impaled his own cutlass in Barbossa's other shoulder. He removed it quickly, leaving Barbossa as Joanna had desired: symmetrical.

Barbossa didn't take notice of Jack -- instead, he growled at Joanna. "You stupid girl," he said and pressed forward. Joanna, without a weapon, took a leaf from Jack's book; she danced away, kicking up silver coins.

"Joanna!" Jack called urgently, racing after them. Joanna looked up to see Jack throwing a sword -- at her, she realized, so she caught the dao by the blade.

It sliced through her palm, but Joanna barely noticed it. The injury felt distant and fuzzy. There were more pressing matters; namely Barbossa, who Joanna parried away with the flat of her blade.

Barbossa was a fantastic swordsman, Joanna realized as she and Jack picked away at him. He wielded his blade like an extension of his arm. Joanna was certain that a mortal Joanna and Jack would have no chance against a sane Barbossa.

Joanna came to another realization a moment later, when she ducked under Jack's arm to swipe at Barbossa's knee. Jack and I are a good team.

"Jack!" Joanna bit out a warning as Barbossa angled for Jack's back -- already stained with blood, Joanna observed unhappily. Jack heeded Joanna's warning and evaded, paving the way for Joanna to step forward. She surprised herself by exchanging several heated, blink-and-you'll-miss-it blows with Barbossa.

The startling exchange ended due to Joanna's lack of confidence: she hesitated as she thrust forward. Barbossa took advantage of her error and slipped beneath her guard. Joanna consequently felt the slimy echo of metal in her abdomen.

Just as her bleeding hand did not sting, this fatal wound did not ache -- but it certainly was an odd sensation. Joanna gasped with the shock of it, almost tripping over her feet.

Beside her, Jack swore and caught her arm with one hand, clumsily parrying Barbossa with the other. "Dammit, Anna," he said furiously, dragging her backwards.

"No, no, I'm fine --"

"You're bleeding out --"

"I took a coin!" Joanna snapped, brushing him away. "Look out!"

Looking dazed, Jack obeyed. He half-heartedly whacked Barbossa's neck as he passed. "When'd you do that?"

"When do you think," Joanna said.

"Jack!" Came Will's dire voice. Jack spared Will, on the opposite end of the treasure room, a cursory glance.

"That's our cue," Jack told Joanna as they brushed past each other.

"What?"

"Blood on your coin," he instructed tersely. At the last second, he feinted away from a fuming Barbossa, who stumbled. With the time he had granted himself, Jack opened his palm on his cutlass and swiped his medallion over the welling crimson.

Joanna understood in a flash. She pressed her coin to her already-slit palm and tossed it to Jack, who (with impressive accuracy) tossed both their medallions across the cave to Will.

Time seemed to stop as Barbossa realized their plan. His jaundiced eyes flickered between them before he unsheathed a pistol, aiming it eastward.

Joanna followed the trajectory of the barrel. Her gaze fell on a terrified Elizabeth.

Several noises in quick succession. The clink of coins falling, the cock of a gun, the crack of a pistol.

Joanna turned to see a cloud of smoke, Jack hovering within it. He was ethereal and esoteric.

I can taste the smoke, Joanna realized.

Barbossa was pale with shock. Slowly, as if moving through syrup, he opened his coat, revealing the gushing gunshot wound decorating his chest. He looked at Joanna. He looked at Elizabeth. He looked at Will, standing over the cursed chest with a bloody palm.

Finally -- inevitably -- he looked at Jack.

"Ten years, ye carry that pistol," he whispered.

Jack's expression was as enigmatic as it had ever been. Slowly, he lowered his gun arm, eyes locked on Barbossa's ghostly white face. The room seemed to have shrunk to the two of them.

"I feel..." Barbossa murmured with quiet relish. His eyelids fluttered. "Cold."

His body crumpled. His sword clattered and plummeted into a nearby pool of dark water. A green apple, bright against volcanic rock, rolled from one of his pockets. A ghost story had died.

"You did it," Joanna whispered, dragging her eyes from the corpse to look at Jack. He seemed fixated on Barbossa's still body, his eyes dark and gleaming with indecipherable emotion.

Jack glanced at her, snapping out of his reverie. "Guess so," he murmured. He shoved his gun into his belt and turned to her, a half-smile replacing his melancholy. "You were brilliant, Joanna."

Joanna felt her face grow as hot as the smithy back home. "Well -- thanks. You were, too," she said, and was mortified by the shy tone of her voice.

Jack smiled. He sidled closer, indicating the dao hanging limply from Joanna's left hand. "Are you gonna keep it?"

"This?" Joanna murmured, raising the blade contemplatively. She saw her reflection in the bloodstained silver and was surprised by her own eyes; electric in a tired face, framed by wild hair. She resumed studying the dao. "It served me well, certainly. Why, do you want it?" She looked at Jack with suspicion.

He grinned. "Do you?"

"You're a pest," Joanna said primly, turning so she faced him fully. She gently placed the tip of the sword against his chin and raised an eyebrow. "You know, you're no longer immortal."

"A complete, irreparable shame," Jack agreed. He delicately pinched the blade between two fingers and directed it to rest against his shoulder. "Are you going to kill me, Joanna Brown?"

"Not today, Jack Sparrow," Joanna said with a grin. She lowered the dao, still smiling. "To answer your question, I think I'll keep it as a memento. The balance isn't right for me."

"Couldn't tell," Jack said honestly. He stepped away from her -- Joanna abruptly realized how close they had been standing -- and strode to kneel beside Barbossa.

Joanna crept after him, staring. "What are you doing?"

"Securing a momento," Jack said jovially. He plucked the feather from the brim of Barbossa's hat.

Joanna gaped at him as he tucked it into one of his waistcoat pockets. "Are you -- is that going to end up in your hair?"

Jack winked. He shook his mane of braids and dreads and beads, smirking. "Didn't I tell you these're all trophies?"

"You were lying," Joanna said disbelievingly. She sighed. "God, I hope you're lying."

Jack jumped to his feet, cheerful as if he had not just taken a feather from a dead man. "C'mon, darling," he said, grabbing her hand as he passed. "I want something shiny."

~

Something shiny evidently meant several strings of pearls (Jack practically cooed over a string of black pearls, which reminded him of his dear ship) and an ostentatious crown. "Put it on me," Jack commanded Joanna, "Like it's a ceremony."

Laughing, Joanna complied, settling it over his already ridiculous head ornaments.

"Thank you, my queen," Jack said gravely before turning back to the treasure trove. Joanna was glad he turned away, for she was sure her face had gone red.

Jack also bestowed treasures upon her. He selected a thin, silver band for her wrist, bisected by a delicate emerald. "Your favorite color's green, innit?" Jack explained. His attention flew off in another direction before Joanna could ask how he knew that.

He also thought a pair of gold earrings would suit her. They were circular and engraved with swirling, foreign letters.

"'S Arabic," Jack told her. He read the words. "Assalamu alaikum. Peace be on you."

Joanna wanted to repeat the strange language, but she knew she'd butcher it. "How do you know that?" She asked Jack instead.

Jack shrugged happily. "I get around. Anyways, they'd look nice with your eyes."

"Would they?" Joanna thought about it, holding the earrings against her ears and glancing into a nearby looking glass. "They don't match the bracelet."

"Wha'd'ya mean?" Jack asked. "Does gold clash with emerald?"

"Jack, silver and gold don't match. If I'm wearing a silver bracelet, I should wear silver earrings."

"That's a right stupid rule," Jack said, shaking his head. "They're both pretty. So what does it matter?"

Joanna was so fond of him in that moment that she had to shake herself back to reality. "I'll keep them," she said with a smile, tucking them into one of her pockets. Unlike the silver bracelet, which Jack had carefully clasped around her wrist, the earrings were not inconspicuous.

Dripping with pearls and jewels and wearing his ridiculous crown, Jack eventually declared himself satisfied. He offered Joanna his arm. "How chivalrous," she said, and took it. Together, they stepped over golden statues and black pools to meet Will.

At the same time, Elizabeth was walking away. Perhaps fleeing was the better term. Joanna took one look at Will's pained expression and understood.

Joanna released Jack's arm so she could take Will's, squeezing it comfortingly before saying mildly, "How's your foot taste?"

Will glared and not-so-subtly shook her off.

"If you were waiting for the opportune moment," Jack began. He paused dramatically. "That was it."

Will sighed. "Thanks, Jack."

"Course, mate." Jack swaggered off, a spring in his step. "Now, if you'd be so kind, I'd be much obliged if you dropped me off at my ship."

~

The Black Pearl was gone, of course. The crumbling of Jack's expression was so severe Joanna had to look away.

"I'm sorry, Jack," Elizabeth said quietly, barely audible over the water kissing the sides of the boat.

Jack, so cheerful moments ago, had transformed into someone downcast and resigned. The diamonds around his neck sparkled; his eyes did not. "They've done what's right by them," Jack said of his ramshackle Tortuga crew. "Can't expect more than that."

The four of them sat in heavy silence, staring at the vacant air where the Pearl should have been. Eventually, Will resumed rowing toward the Dauntless. There was nowhere else to go.

Hesitantly, nervously, Joanna took Jack's hand. It was sticky with blood, like her own.

"Thank you for my bracelet. And the earrings." She told him quietly.

Jack was looking at their enjoined hands, his pleasant surprise thinly veiled. "Course, luv," he said. He thought for a moment, his gaze drifting to the imposing HMS Dauntless. "One more gift," he told her, lifting a finger to stop any protest. His hand slipped from hers.

Jack removed his crown -- Joanna dreaded for a moment that he intended to place it on her head, but he set it aside. He fished for the black pearls amid the sparkles at his throat and pulled them over his head. Joanna held her breath as he ceremoniously placed them into her open palm.

"Someone ought to have 'em. Might as well be you." Jack explained, closing her fingers over the string of pearls. They felt cool against Joanna's hand. After a beat, Jack added softly, "Anna." His lips curled into a smile, anticipating Joanna to protest the name.

Joanna swallowed. She felt like butterflies had replaced all of her organs. "Thank you," she said.