A/N: Previously posted under "A Measure of Treasure." Reposting as a separate story. The originals have been deleted.

TP belongs to Disney.

Chapter One: Welcome to the Town of Montressor

Jim Hawkins has never been the easiest of boys to control.

Well, that's the understatement of the century.

Jim Hawkins is an absolute nightmare of a boy. He's a loner, he's quiet, when you make him talk he's disrespectful, he's the kind of kid that is totally brilliant and completely demented. Keep your kids far away.

At least, that's what the whole town of Montressor says.

His teachers will tell him one thing, and he'll argue to the end of the earth that the opposite is true (even if he doesn't believe it). His neighbors say a friendly word in greeting, he pretends not to hear. His mom wants him to do chores or help out with the work at the Inn she runs, well, what does he get out of it?

At fifteen years old, James Pleiades Hawkins has more adults figured out than the average textbook does mathematical equations, and he's not at all impressed. Why follow society when all you do is end up like that? A tiresome teacher, a polite politician, a mellow miner . . . boring people with boring lives with nothing but boring things to say and boring and miserable lives to control, trying to make sure everyone else ends up as bored and boring as they are. There's nothing at all appealing about listening to what they say, doing what they do.

The desire to break away and find adventure is what gets him up in the morning. It controls his thoughts all day. It drives him. It's the only reason he lives.

So one day, when Jim's out airboarding (in a restricted part of town) and comes across a crashed and still-sputtering airship, Jim is more than ready.

"Ey, Mister, you all right in there?" Jim lands sharply on the ground, not even skidding. He yanks off his goggles and bandana with one hand and cuts off his engine with the other.
"Mister?"

"Uuuughh . . ." is the reply from within.

Jim flings open the hatch to the small airship, peering inside and blinking rapidly as his eyes adjust to the dimness. It smells rank with body odor and grease and Jim pulls his head back out to breathe in fresh air.

A hand falls on his jacket and drags his head back in.

"He's a'comin."

oOoOoOo

Half and hour later, and Jim is thinking furiously as he and his companion trudge along. Is this fate? Is this destiny? Or is this just another really awkward moment that'll be over and done with come morning?

Who knows? Maybe this is all a dream.

Jim pushes open the door to the Benbow Inn, stumbling as he tries to carry most of the weight of the old injured airman inside.

"Aaah, good lad. Thanks, lad. Ya fell from the heavens, ya did," the man mutters for the first time in thirty minutes, the effort of walking apparently having consumed all of his energy.

"Actually, it was just the sky, but I'll take that," Jim helps the man into a chair. The inn is empty; business has closed for the night and the walk here was very long and tedious. Jim doesn't carry a pocket watch, but he guesses it must be at least eleven p.m. now.

The old airman groans as he sits down. "Wherever ya came from, laddie, it was in the nick of time. Those cutthroats and hooligans would have been on me in a second."

Cutthroats?

"I'm sorry, what was that?" How hard did this guy hit his head?

"Them pirates! T'ose blasted, wicked, no good t'ieves goin afta' me map. They won't have it, I tell ya! It's me own, Cap'm Flint gave it me 'isself, an' I won't have no thieven' youngstas takin whas rightfully mine!" The old man rages, shaking a fist in the air.

Jim shakes himself out of his shock. This man has to be insane. Captain Flint? A map? Much as he wants to believe it, this can't be true. The guy's practically foaming at the mouth!

"Uh, you want a glass of water?" Jim offers tentatively.

The man doesn't even hear him, but continues talking out loud. To himself or to Jim, one can't be sure. "That dirty, scallywaggin one-legged scumbag. Always was dangerous and he's nuthin but trouble since he saw this! Gotta find someplace safe where he'll never get it. Here, put it somewhere safe! Don't let 'em find it!" he whispers with terror and hands Jim a heavy, leather wrapped bundle.

Jim looks down at it with confusion. "What is this?"

"Haven't ya heard me, laddie? Don't ya hear what me sayin'?" He grabs a hold of Jim's shoulders and gives him a good shaking. "This is me map! Me own! And dat loathsome and vicious one-legged man will stop at nuthin ta get it! Chased me all across the continent, he has, and he'll never stop! He's a'comin', but ain't no way he'll get his grimy hands on it!" He's bellowing now.

"Jim, what is this!" Sarah Hawkins is standing at the kitchen doors, mouth agape and eyes wide. Doctor Doppler, a family friend, rushes over, afraid that the crazed man may hurt Jim.

"Beware the one-legged man! Beware!" The man grips the table hard and his eyes roll back. Before they can even hear the thud of his head on the table, there's a loud trembling that shakes the whole house. Jim runs to the window, peeking out of the closed curtains to find a large airship hovering over the front yard. The shadows of men can be seen descending quickly from ropes, fifteen at least.

"We gotta go!" Jim cries and dashes towards the kitchen doors.

"What?" Sarah is bewildered, but Jim just takes her hand and drags her behind. Doppler is curiously studying the dead airman.

There's a loud crack!and the front door is blasted down.

Doppler is now not too far behind Jim and Sarah.

They run out the back door of the kitchen. "Delilah's just around the corner, she's our best bet!" Doppler whispers.

"Where is it!?" an enraged voice cries from inside. "Find it!"

They run to the carriage in earnest. Delilah is plainly nervous, nickering and pawing at the ground. She's safe in the shadow of the inn, but the airship is quite visibly seen. Doppler quickly untethers her from a pole as Sarah and Jim tumble into the carriage. Soon, they're taking off at a gallop that Jim didn't even know old Delilah was capable of.

Ten minutes and a mile later, they see the Benbow Inn go up in flames.

Jim's mother has her head buried in her hands.

Jim's staring at the thing in his hands.

Could this really be what the old airman said it was?

A map? Given by Captain Flint himself?

After running from home and a band of let's-burn-random-houses pirates, this is all that he has left.

It better be worth it.