Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean, it's characters, etc. do not belong to me. No trademark infringement is intended, nor is any profit being made.

This is my first fanfic, any reviews will be greatly appreciated.

A Single Tear

The Endeavor was sailing towards the Black Pearl, it's commander Lord Cutler Beckett stood atop the deck, sure of victory.

"Ah, she survived." said Beckett. The Flying Dutchman had just resurfaced, and he was expecting the task at hand to be even simpler now.

"It's nothing personal Jack, it's just good business."

However, the Dutchman was under the command of a new captain, a captain no longer controlled by Beckett. The Dutchman and Pearl sailed towards each other, then suddenly the ships turned to flank the Endeavor. Beckett stood stunned, realizing his death was surely imminent. His second in command was yelling, desperate for orders, but Beckett could supply none, for in his mind he was in a different place, in a different time.

Flashback

"C'mon luv, you know I didn't do it to hurt you."

"But you did hurt me Jack. You undermined my authority, losing me the respect of my subordinates. I cannot advance if I do not have the respect and loyalty of my inferiors."

"This is about business? I thought..."

"You thought what Jack? That I was referring to your little tryst with that slave? I can assure you I was not." Beckett then called for two guards. They entered Beckett's office and immediately went to either side of Jack, restraining him. Jack looked puzzled and slightly alarmed.

"Wot they for?"

"They are here to help me rectify your usurping of my authority." Beckett walked towards the fireplace, he then pulled something from the hot coals. As Jack saw what Beckett held in his hand, a look of terror came over him. As Beckett saw the fear in Jack's eyes, his features were softened and he began to rethink what he was about to do. The look did not last though, the memory of Jack in the throws of passion with that slave flashed in his mind and a look of ice took over. With a slight nod of his head one of the guards lifted the right sleeve of Jack's shirt, revealing his tanned forearm.

"Please Cutler, you don't have to do this." Jack begged.

Beckett advanced and stood in front of Jack, "It's just good business."

He pressed the hot iron to Jack's skin, barely registering his yell of pain or the smell of burning flesh. He removed the iron and looked at the angry red P marring Jack's once perfect skin. He went to set the iron down and dismissed the guards, sure that they would spread the word and his authority would be restored. As he turned, he saw Jack's face, his eyes full of water, the physical and emotional pain evident in his gaze. Beckett moved to embrace the pirate, but he backed away cradling his arm. Without a single word, Jack left Beckett's office, never to return. Beckett went and locked his door, sat down and wept, knowing he had just destroyed everything with the only person he had ever loved.

End flashback

"It's just good business." was all Beckett said.

"Abandon ship!" yelled the second in command.

As Beckett's men were abandoning ship, he walked towards the stairs, his thoughts turning once again to Jack. With each step he took a memory of time shared with Jack flashed through his mind. The feel of Jack's hand in his, a brush of the hand across his cheek, a tender kiss in the moonlight, sweet whispers in the dark, the feel of Jack's body pressed against his, his head on Jack's bare chest listening to his heart beat as Jack traced his fingers lightly across his back. As he reached the bottom of the stairs another memory replaced his happier ones, the memory of Jack's face after he had branded him. He stopped dead in his tracks and his eyes widened, knowing his death was at hand. As the ship was blown apart, Beckett's body was thrown into the sea atop the flag of the East India Trading Company.

In the distance, aboard the Black Pearl, a lone figure stared at the once grand ship, his heart gripped by sorrow. Captain Jack Sparrow, despite Beckett's actions, had never stopped loving him and knew he would never love another. He wiped away the tear that had slipped down his cheek and walked over to join the crew, feeling out of place in their celebrations.

Beckett had died, with nothing to mark his passing but a single tear.