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James set down his pen. Picked up the blotter and pressed it to the paper. Once the ink was dry, he lifted it. Scanned his eyes over his words. Picked the pen up once more.

A knock sounded on the door of his cabin.

"Come."

The door opened. "It's me, James. Will."

He glanced up. Nodded. Returned to his writing.

The door closed. Will crossed the cabin and sat in the chair across the desk.

"Something on your mind?" James asked, not looking up.

"Yes." Will cleared his throat. "When you were gone, Jack visited. He stayed in your home, I understand. Helped Mariah keep house."

"Why would Mariah need help keeping house?" James looked up sharply. "She had Mrs. Conway and Travers."

"Travers was taken ill and removed himself as not to infect Gavin. And Mrs. Conway refused to stay. So. Jack did."

"Why did no one..." He broke off his words and angrily threw his quill back into the ink pot. "I expected better of Mrs. Conway. It's clear my ability to judge character is not what I thought." Not that there was anything he could do about it now. The likelihood of him every seeing his former cook and housekeeper again was slim. He couldn't waste precious time and energy on something that was past. Something that didn't matter. Not anymore.

"Elizabeth wanted to fire her," said Will. "Hire a replacement. But we assumed it wasn't our place. And Mariah... Well. She insisted that she was fine. And Jack..." He trailed off. Shrugged.

"Mariah is very self-sufficient. Not one to make a fuss. I'm not surprised she objected. Although, I should have been more explicit in my instructions that she be treated as lady of the house, with all the power it entailed. I..."

"Do you truly not care that Jack Sparrow lived in your house for almost a month?" Will burst out, hand slamming flat on the desk.

James blinked. Realization slides through him, followed by a slow blush that he can't help. God, how could he have been so stupid? What was he...

Perspective. Gavin was in prison. His life, and everything James had ever worked for, had been taken away with the sweep of one tiny man's too powerful hand. And, suddenly, hiding Jack, his regard for Jack, just didn't matter.

He sighed. Rubbed his forehead wearily, feeling the dull ache. "Well. I am not unaware of your friendship with Jack. The fact that he visited you when I was gone is not surprising."

"But, he had... He was in your house. With your child."

"And, oddly enough, Gavin seems to have been fine until a lunatic sailed into Port Royal and locked him up. Jack, in this case, is not the lunatic."

"But you hate Jack."

James closed his eyes. "I am not... favorably inclined towards his choice of profession. I've nothing against the man personally."

Will snorted. "Please. You tried to hang him."

"As a consequence of his profession. I took no pleasure, as you may have noticed had you not been so busy flouncing around in your stupid hat trying to rescue him. Poorly."

"It worked!"

"Because he took a bloody dive off the fort, not because of you. If I recall correctly, we had you surrounded. He simply traipsed his way out."

"I got him there."

James rolled his eyes. "Then you might as well say I did too. I'm the one who ordered his execution, got him to the fort, put him on the platform. I set the stage for your rescue."

Will frowned. Opened his mouth. Abruptly shut it. "What are we talking about?"

"Whether or not I hate Jack Sparrow or piracy."

"Right." He sat back. Crossed his arms over his chest. "About Jack. What are you going to do when we find him?"

James looked down at his missive. Picked up his quill and signed his name at the bottom.

"James?"

"Sail ho!" came the muffled cry from the deck.

Feet pounded. Then knocking on the door.

James rose. "Come."

Groves stepped in. His color was high, eyes bright. "We've spotted her. The Black Pearl. We're drawing up on her."

"Good. Run up the white flag. I'll be out directly." His eyes moved to Will. "You join them on deck. I'll be out in a moment."

"What are you going to do, James?"

He met Will's eyes. "Go," he commanded.

Will frowned. His forehead knitted and mouth pressed into a pout. But, he simply nodded and left.

James heart pounded wildly. He pressed his sweating palms against the desk and closed his eyes. Took a deep breath, trying to calm his stomach. Slow his pulse. Come to some kind of modicum of calm.

When he finally reached it, he opened his eyes again. Looked down at his missive. One last time, he read it over, making sure it was right. Thus assured, he dripped wax at the bottom. Affixed his seal.

The path was set. No turning back now.

*

"And we need your help," Will was saying as James emerged from his cabin. "Please, come over so we can talk."

"Thank you, my dear Will, but if there is talking to be done, you may come over to my ship," Jack said from the deck of his Pearl, lying in wait alongside the Dauntless. Behind him stood his crew, all armed, all untrusting.

James latched onto Jack's form. Drew strength from him. The man he so desperately needed at this moment, the only hope for his child.

The only hope for him.

He stood in front of the cabin. A breeze ruffled his hair, making him feel naked. Exposed.

"You can't expect us to go there," he heard Gillette say as if from a great distance. "You're a pirate. We at least are honorable men."

A good number of Jack's crew snorted and muttered. Quite a few fingered their weapons more openly.

Jack simply smiled. "Honorable men, of course. But you see, you concept of honor and mine are not so similar. I hold to no king and country, while you hold your king, country, and law above all else. You would do anything in the pursuit of that honor, which makes you unpredictable." Gold flashed. "I know a man so devoted to his strange concept of honor that he's all but twisted his entire life around it. To no aim and purpose but to satisfy some strange impulse."

"Here, now, that's not true," James couldn't help but protest.

Jack turned his head, catching sight of James. His eyes widened almost comically, head rearing back in an exaggerated manner.

James managed a half-smile. "You may not approve of my latest choice, either, I'm afraid."

"Commodore?" Groves said, voice soft. Questioning.

He tightened his grip on his pack. Crossed the deck to where his lieutenants stood, Groves calmly curious, Gillette red-faced and upset.

The trip across the deck took years. Every step was lead, pounding on the deck in time to his heart. Blood rushing in his ears, making him lightheaded. Drunk and distant. Unreal.

A millennium passed. Miles traversed, he came to a stop in front of Groves.

The younger man looked him over. Met his eyes. "Commodore..."

He made a sound in his throat. Shook his head.

"James," Groves said, voice softer. "What is going on?"

"Yes, yes, dear James," Jack purred at his side. "What is going on? You look positively indecent out of your uniform."

"Get away from him, you blackguard!" Gillette shouted. He grabbed at Jack, who shook him off easily.

Groves waved a hand at his hotheaded counterpart. Kept his eyes on James. "James?"

He licked his lips and cleared his throat. "Lieutenant Groves, I hereby resign my commission. The ship is yours." He handed Groves his letter.

"Commodore, you can't! Are you crazy?" Gillette protested.

Groves took the letter. "Why?"

"I can no longer serve an organization I do not believe in," James said, closing his eyes.

"What did we do?"

"Nothing," he said quickly. "You did nothing. There has never been a finer crew or finer men," he added, glancing at Gillette and giving him a smile. "You two... you all should be commended. But I cannot stay."

"Jamie, what is going on?" Jack said, voice low.

He turned. "Captain. May I have permission to board your ship?"

Jack waved his hand irritably. "Of course. But tell me what is going on? Is Gavin..."

A lump formed in his throat. Choking, pressing behind his eyes, throbbing in his head. He couldn't speak, couldn't see anything but his infant child, lying in Mariah's lap, in a dirty, filthy prison.

Jack's eyes went wide. Face paled. "But..."

"Gavin is alive," said Will. "Just, in danger. A man has taken Elizabeth, Mariah, and Gavin prisoner."

Jack turned sharply. "Gavin? Prisoner?"

James closed his eyes. Swayed lightly on his feet.

"What are you talking about, Mr. Turner?" Groves asked. "Who has taken them? And... your son? A baby? Surely you must be mistaken."

"I wish I were," James managed to force out. He opened his eyes and found Jack's. "My son is in prison. By a man named Lord Cutler Becket."

Jack flinched. "Come," he said, taking James by the arm. "You." He thrust his finger into Groves' face. "Stay. Don't go anywhere. You." This time, the finger was for Will. "Tell them everything. Keep them here." He turned and dragged James after him, heading to the Pearl.

"Jack. Jack, what are you doing?" Will called after them.

"Stay here!"

James followed Jack, the world a blur around him. He knew when he was led onto the Pearl, past the glaring, outraged faces of the pirate crew. Into the great cabin.

"Sit."

He was pushed down on the bed, pack falling to his feet. A moment later, a glass was pressed into his hand.

"Drink."

He obeyed. The rum was rough, burning a trail down his throat. It dissolved the lump. He coughed violently, tears rising.

"There, there," Jack soothed, slapping him on the back. "Takes some time to get used to. What we have out here isn't the refined stuff you sip on land. Takes a real man to swallow this down."

"Indeed." James shot a sideways look at Jack. Tried to give him a smile. Failed. Utterly.

Jack looked as serious as he'd ever seen. "What happened, love?"

James shook his head helplessly. His eyes stung and Jack's face blurred. "I returned not three days after you left to find my child in the fort's prison. Lying on that dirty floor, surrounded by filth and thieves and...God, Jack."

"Mariah was with him," Jack asked, pulling James to him.

James pressed his forehead against Jack's neck. Clutched at his vest and took comfort as Jack delicately stroked his back. "Mariah was with him. And Elizabeth. But he was in prison. What kind of monster does that?"

"Whatever kind Cutler is. Never quite decided what he was, but pure evil is an accurate description. And I don't toss that phrase around willy nilly." He combed his fingers through James's hair. "What does he say he wants?"

James pulled away and wiped his eyes, ashamed at his weakness. "Your compass."

"Ah. Will was saying something about it."

"I wouldn't ask. I don't trust that man. If he could imprison a baby, he could easily refuse to follow to do what he promised. He swore he would move them to a room, but I cannot help but think..."

"No. If Cutler said he would place them in a room, he has. But you are right about him following through on his other promises. He'll find a way to keep you trapped. He'll keep dangling Gavin's freedom over you, making him your slave."

He nodded. Wiped his eyes again. "Will you help us? Get Gavin out? And Mariah?"

"What there ever any doubt?"

"Do you have anywhere we can go. After? I don't know.... He's in charge of the East India Trading Company. He's a lord. I cannot return to England, cannot stay in Port Royal. We need somewhere to begin again."

Jack lifted his hand. His fingers danced lightly over James's face, up to his hair, down his jaw. "Of course, luv. Anything you want."

"I want my son back."

"We'll get him back, James. I promise. We will get him back."