Brothers

One day before Jack's hanging…

Theo sat in the Officer's mess in Fort Charles nursing a foul cup of grog, as strong as he'd been allowed to have it. He'd tried to make off with the wine, but the Fort's cook had caught him at it, and sensing Theo's mood, insisted he take the grog in an attempt to prevent any drunken mishaps.

The Dauntless had arrived back in Port Royale that morning after several days sailing. Theo had been tempted to sneak down to the brig to see Jack, but common sense won over when he realised there was no way of accomplishing it without arousing suspicion. At least Jack – or Jon rather – had been separated from the rest of the rabble they'd captured at Isla de Muerta. Isla de Muerta. He'd be happy if he never heard of that bloody island again. Nothing good had ever come of that place. Footsteps clattered on the stairs. Vaguely he wondered if he'd ever be able to inform their mother of Jack's fate.

"Theodore?" James' voice sounded. If he were calling to Theo by his Christian name then he was not looking for any formal interview at least. He really couldn't stomach that right now. James emerged into the small windowless room, coat unbuttoned and hat under arm. "Theodore, I need to speak with you." No one, Theo reflected, called him Theo except for Jon-Jack, he corrected himself, and Jack was soon for the gallows. He knew James too well; he wouldn't shirk what was his obvious duty. Hence the mood, and he suspected, James' informal interview.

James took a seat in front of Theo. Glancing over at Theo, James gently took the cup from Theo's numb fingers and sniffed cautiously, recoiling slightly from the smell.

"Who made this?" He asked.

"Cook. Wouldn't let me have the wine for whatever reason… I think he muttered something about serving guests tomorrow." Theo said rather monotonously. His mood darkened. He wanted to forget, to not have to think and be torn between duty – his life, and loyalty to his brother. And though the cook had fobbed him off with one excuse, had retired muttering about accommodating the town's nobility tomorrow. What were they, Theo wondered, that the execution of a man was entertainment? The townsfolk, he was sure, would not be so eager if they were to experience the horrors of battle, as a sailor must. Obligations as a naval officer however left him in the position of being unable to express those emotions, having to remain impassive on the outside even as men were torn apart around him.

Theo's dark thoughts were leaving him rather mutinous, a mood James Norrington picked up on. There was something else that needed discussing, however.

"He might have helped defeat Barbossa's rabble Theodore, but he's still a pirate. We do have our duty to fulfil." James began.

"Duty?" Theo said quietly. "Do not talk to me of duty James. You have lost yourself too far in 'duty' over the years. Tell me, would you even hang your own brother if he were a pirate?"

"B-brother?" James asked after a slight pause. "I must admit there were odd instances that lead me to suspect, but to hear you speak it out loud… do you mean to suggest that that man in the gaol right now is a blood relative of yours?"

"And if he were, would that make a difference to yours and the Governor's judgement?"

James sighed, and made as if to reach for Theo's grog. Theo slid it out the way and looked from the guttering candlelight to James.

"Please James. If you ever in any way felt indebted to me, if we are as if brothers, don't do this." It was perhaps the closest Theo had ever come to begging.

"I would, believe me I would, but I can't. I have the law to uphold, as do you. Surely you realise that?" Theo rose from his stool, his expression dark.

"Then do not come to me expecting forgiveness James. I've seen his list of crimes. Other than piracy he has done nothing particularly worthy of the sentence imposed on him, and even that does not require a hanging in all circumstances. So do not preach to me of upholding the law. Goodbye James." He said coldly, spinning on his heels and exiting the room.

It was this conversation, among other things, that leant itself to the stormy expression on James' face during the hanging, and lead to his hesitation and indecision as he watched Jack Sparrow swim for his ship. Yes, he realised, he did value his friendship with Theodore, whatever his sibling ties. Nodding to Swan's excuse, he turned to face Turner and Elizabeth, and later, Theodore Groves.