Title: Troublesome Bugger

Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean

Genre: Slightly Angsty
Word Count: 4,195
Rating: PG, mild violence
Pairings: None
Warnings: None
Summary: Written for a DA prompt: "Would you help Jack Sparrow or betrayed him?" Set after The Curse of the Black Pearl. Has one young pirate found the price for betrayal?

Author's Notes: If you stop reading this for whatever reason, please let me know why. I really want to improve my writing so if there's something that annoyed you let me know. If you quit reading because of his name, there is a reason I named him that and it's explained in my notes after the story. So please, if you stop reading review. If you keep reading please review as well. Thanks.

Two white and red clad Navy men half-lead, half-dragged a terrified young pirate into the captain's quarters of the HMS Avenger. The random clanking of the prisoner's shackles and the sound of his bare feet, sometimes shuffling sometimes sliding, offset the synchronized pounding of the captor's boots. To the pirate, the only thing louder than the thudding of hard-soled boots on the wooden planking was the drumming of his own heartbeat.

He couldn't understand how this could have happened. All he was supposed to do was get some chickens and bring them back to the ship. That was all he was supposed to do. It was so stupid being captured on the way to buy some chickens!

Now he was the prisoner of the Navy and he couldn't comprehend why the Navy was even in San Nicholas. It was primarily a pirate town, though not quite as bad as Tortuga. The Navy, respectable merchants, and the East India Trading Company avoided the island whenever possible, but for an unknown reason these hadn't.

The young pirate was suddenly jerked from his frightened ponderings as his two captors shoved him into a chair. He squinted around at the very neat room. Sunlight poured in through the windows which filled the back wall. Everything was so clean and orderly, very different from the ship he served on. His gaze focused on a man sitting across a large desk from him. Judging from his dark blue and white jacket and the powdered wig he wore, the pirate guessed him to be in charge.

"The irons are unnecessary," said the commander without looking up from the map spread across the desk.

Confused and scared, the young pirate hardly noticed as one of his captors removed his restrains and, with his comrade, left the room.

"Would you care for a drink?" the commander asked, finally looking up at the other man and motioning toward a glass flask full of a brown liquid. He received no response. Shrugging he began rummaging through one of the desk drawers. "You are the newest member aboard The Black Pearl, correct?"

The young pirate was visibly startled. By the powers, how did he know that? he wondered. His mouth opened and closed a couple times but he couldn't say anything.

The Navy man's brown eyes stared at the pirate, studying him intently. He couldn't have been more than twenty years old. Light brown hair poked haphazardly from under a dirty blue bandana. With disgust that he managed to cover, he realized his captive was filthy. I'll have to get someone to clean my quarters after this, he mused to himself. He looked into the younger man's terrified blue eyes and decided he needed to ease into the topic a little more slowly.

Laughing suddenly, the Navy man exclaimed, "Where are my manners? I am Commodore Elsworth." He paused his rummaging to pour two glasses of brandy. Holding one out to the younger man he took a sip from his own glass and said, "Have a drink."

Tentatively the pirate reached for the glass then quickly drank all its contents in one gulp and roughly put the empty glass onto the desk. Commodore Elsworth scowled briefly at the waste of his best brandy. He didn't offer to refill the pirate's cup. Taking another sip he returned to searching through his desk.

"I'm going to need your name," he stated, briefly glancing at the pirate before looking back at what he was doing.

"Why?" inquired the pirate suspiciously.

Smiling, the commodore produced a folded piece of parchment. "So I can fill out this pardon," he explained as if the answer was completely obvious. Elsworth resisted the urge to smirk at the dumbfounded expression on the pirate's face. "Well?" he asked, dipping his feather quill into the inkwell.

"Um, it's Aaron, Aaron Jacoby," he replied finally. He had entered this room expecting a notice of his own hanging, now he was being given a pardon. Somehow he couldn't bring himself to feel relieved; something was missing. This was too good to be true.

"Today is your lucky day Mr. Jacoby," Commodore Elsworth stated while writing the name on the parchment.

"What d' ye want?" demanded Aaron.

Elsworth looked up sharply. He took in the pale face and wild eyes of the pirate and realized the harsh tone was a bluff; the young man was still terrified. Chuckling, he replied, "You're a smart man Mr. Jacoby. I do want something and I need your help to get it," he paused for effect. "I want Jack Sparrow and The Black Pearl."

Aaron stared at him in confusion. How was he supposed to help this man capture Cap'n Jack Sparrow, even if he was a member of Jack's crew? He was nobody; he doubted the captain even knew he existed. What was he supposed to do? But more importantly, what exactly was the profit in betraying Jack. He assumed the pardon, but in the long run that wouldn't help him much; he would eventually return to pirating.

"What's in it for me?" he asked.

Commodore Elsworth smiled again. "Besides the pardon you will get an enlistment in the King's Royal Navy with only a few promotions away from receiving your own ship. Think about it: it takes years and years to be given a ship. If you help me, I'll ensure that you get one in less than half the normal time."

The young pirate tilted his head slightly to the side as he contemplated this. He held no loyalty to Jack. The only reason he had joined The Pearl was to escape his home town, which incidentally was San Nicholas, where he owed a lot of people money. Jack's ship had been about to leave port when some of the more violent people he owed came to collect. Aaron had volunteered to join the crew to get away from them. So far he had faced months of hard, dangerous, and uncomfortable labor with little in the way of profit. Once again he looked around the cabin. It looked so much more pleasant than the dark and dirty ship he'd spent the last few months on. With the sunlight streaming in through the windows, it looked almost cheery.

Can ye really betray Jack and his whole crew so you can stay on a cleaner ship? he asked himself. It didn't take him long to realize, yes, yes he could really betray them. They weren't his friends, they weren't his family, he didn't even like any of them. Sure it was entertaining to watch the midget try and perform normal crewman duties and fun trying to figure out what the parrot was saying, but that wasn't incentive enough for him.

Aaron straightened in his chair and looked the commodore in the eye. "What do ye need me to do?"

The commodore's smile widened and he gestured for the pirate to look at the map.

Aaron walked quickly through the streets of San Nicholas toward the docks. He passed an abandoned church and paused to look at the familiar landmark. According to the local history, missionaries had founded the town in hopes of converting pirates. That's why it was named after Saint Nicholas, the patron saint of repentant thieves. As he watched a young boy ran past a peg-legged old pirate, stealing his coin pouch. The missionaries' mission hadn't gone so well.

Shaking his head he continued on his way and mulled over his discussion with the commodore. Elsworth had said his men, disguised as pirates, had spread rumors about some merchant ships coming from an African port, loaded to the point of bursting with all manner of valuables. His men had claimed that the ships were attacked by pirates but managed to escape though they sustained a lot of damage. They were now harbored at an island two days voyage from San Nicholas while they were repaired, all their goods stored in the town so they wouldn't hinder the repairs.

There was no probable way The Pearl's crew hadn't heard the rumors. With such easy pickings they wouldn't be able to resist immediately setting sail. Aaron's only job was to make sure they used a small secluded harbor to access the town instead of the main harbor where the merchant ships were supposedly docked. Commodore Elsworth's fleet would easily have Jack and his ship cornered.

Frowning, Aaron tried to come up with a convincing story to tell Jack as to why they should use that harbor. When he had asked the commodore how to get Jack to use the small harbor, Elsworth had lost all his politeness and snapped, "You'll have to think of something!" He had quickly regained his composure, but that show of negative emotion was burned into the young pirate's memory.

He rounded a corner and San Nicholas's harbor was fully visible. The Black Pearl swayed gently back and forth in the water next to the dock while her crew scurried across her deck and on the dock next to her. Taking a deep breath he increased his pace. He could do this.

In his hurry he nearly slammed into the broad chest of a tall and muscular man. Aaron looked up into the man's face, about to apologize, but the apology died in his mouth. The massive scar that ran down the left side of his face, those cold blue eyes, and the short red-blond hair belonged to Brent Agro, the man Aaron had escaped from all those months ago.

As this realization dawned on Aaron, six men seemed to appear out of nowhere and surrounded him. He felt the terror he had experienced earlier flood back into his body.

"I can't tell if ye be brave or stupid fer showing yer face here," Brent snarled, folding his arms across his chest. His companions chuckled.

"Ye be lookin' well, Brent," Aaron commented, forcing a smile. He was rewarded with a punch to the jaw which knocked him off his feet. Two of the men behind him caught him and shoved him back to his feet.

"Don't be playing games, Aaron, ye owe me money."

Aaron spit a mouthful of blood to the ground next to his own feet. "I'll get it, I just need more time!" he pleaded. For this he received a blow to the ribs. He would have fallen to his knees except another two of Brent's men held him up. This time they didn't relinquish their hold.

"The last time ye said that ye scurried aboard a ship and I didn't see ye again for months. That sounds oddly like running away, don't it gents?" Brent growled. There was a general chorus of agreements from the other men.

"No, no, no! That's not it at all! See, I was getting yer money and 'ad every intention of returnin' to pay you back," Aaron lied. He got another blow to his ribs. Groaning in pain he tried to pull away only to be rewarded with yet another blow.

"See, I think ye be lying again. If I let ye go ye'll never come back."

"I'll come back, I pro…"

Brent interrupted him with backhanded slap across the face. "I'm tired of waiting for ye." He tapped one of the men holding Aaron and they both let go. The young pirate managed to stay standing and Brent put an arm around his shoulder in a friendly gesture. His voice changed to a more pleasant tone as he continued, "I know ye can't pay me back, I don't expect ye to. I'm forgiving ye of yer debts."

"Really?" Aaron asked through another mouth full of blood.

"Aye." Brent smiled at the younger man. "Aye, I'm just going to kill ye instead." As he said the words he shoved Aaron back and moved to face him, drawing his cutlass.

"No, please Brent, I'll get the money! Please 'ave mercy!" Aaron begged.

"Sorry Aaron," replied Brent, a cruel grin spreading over his face. He pulled his arm back preparing to strike.

A gunshot sounded and echoed through the streets. Brent's eyes glazed over and his sword fell from his grasp, soon to be followed by Brent himself. As the big man collapsed into the dirt his killer was visible. Captain Jack Sparrow stood a few yards away, smoking pistol still level with where Brent's chest had been. Behind him a number of The Pearl's more prominent crew were poised for battle.

"Raaawk! Dead men tell no tales!" squawked Mr. Cotton's parrot. Mr. Cotton's smug expression seemed to say he agreed with the statement.

"Well said, Cotton!" commented Mr. Gibbs, Jack's first mate.

Aaron heard the unmistakable sound of swords being drawn come from behind him and dived out of the way as the two forces charged each other. The skirmish lasted barely thirty seconds. Once the dust settled he surveyed the battlefield. Jack didn't seem to have moved away from the spot where he had shot Brent. The midget was examining the knife of one of the dead men. Mr. Gibbs and Mr. Cotton were cleaning their swords on the shirts of the fallen men, as well as going through their pockets for valuables.

Jack sauntered over to where Aaron was trying to pick himself up off the ground. He held his hand out and helped the younger man to his feet.

"You alright... um… er," Jack frowned in concentration as he tried to remember the lad's name. He wasn't even sure he had ever heard it before.

"Aaron," said Aaron.

"What's that, lad?" Jack asked.
"My name. Aaron."

"I knew that," Jack replied defensively. At that moment Gibbs walked up to stand by Jack's side. The captain turned to him and said, "I knew that."

Mr. Gibbs gave Jack a bewildered look before turning to Aaron. "Did ye get the chickens lad?"

It took a moment for him to remember what Gibbs was talking about. "Um…"

"It appears he was too busy making friends with gents who wanted to kill him," Jack observed, leaning toward his first mate so he was uncomfortably close. Gibbs, however, was unfazed; he was used to Jack doing things like that.

"Aye," Mr. Gibbs replied.

Afraid that he would be punished for failing to get the chickens, Aaron spoke up. "I could go get some."

"That won't be necessary, there'll be plenty of chickens where we're headed," Jack said.

"Cap'n?" Aaron asked tentatively.

"You haven't heard?"

Aaron shook his head.

"Apparently there's some very full merchant ships in the next port over. Injured merchant ships. We'll be free to stock up on chickens there. Maybe," Jack answered. He turned and strode toward his ship. As he did they heard him continue, "I don't even like chickens. Make more noise than Cotton's parrot, chicken's do."

Gibbs and Aaron watched the captain leave, mouths hanging open in puzzlement. It was Mr. Gibbs who recovered first. He shook his head, gathered his thoughts, then shouted at the crew, "Alright ye scurvy dogs! Back to the ship and get her ready to make way!" With that he headed after Jack.

Aaron stood at The Black Pearl's railing and gazed out over the open ocean. There were plenty of things he disliked about life aboard the ship: the food was mostly horrible, the sleeping quarters were very uncomfortable, and there was a hardly a day that went by that he didn't injure himself on something. But this: the fresh sea breeze, the endless blue of the sea, the cry of the gulls over head, this he loved.

Of course, the view will be the same whether aboard The Pearl or a Navy ship, he reasoned. For the past day, ever since they left San Nicholas, he had been plagued with indecision. Before he had been attacked by Brent and his lot he had been planning on leading Jack and his crew into Commodore Elsworth's trap. Then Jack and his crew had saved his life and that nearly made him change his mind, "nearly" being the operative word. The part making him so indecisive was that Jack hadn't known who he was and the whole crew was back to ignoring him. It seemed petty to turn over the crew because he felt left out but that wasn't really his motivation. His motivation was the easier life Elsworth was offering and by being overlooked he felt no loyalty to The Pearl or her captain.

But there was that nagging in the back of his mind telling him that he owed them his life. He snorted, he owed a lot of people things he had no intention of paying back. Why not make this one of them?

Sighing deeply Aaron drummed his fingers on the railing. His dilemma was starting to make his stomach hurt along with his head and ribs. He looked up towards the helm where Jack and Gibbs were looking over a map. Now or never, he thought.

Taking a deep breath he turned deliberately and marched across the deck and up the stairs.

As he neared the top he heard Jack say, "…best to use this harbor off to the side there. Has the element of surprise doesn't it?"

"It certainly does Cap'n. Cannon support might be a bit of a problem though," Gibbs replied.

"If this goes right we won't need the cannons. Oi! What d' you want?" Jack demanded, noticing Aaron hovering nearby with a slightly dumbfounded expression. He turned his gaze to the captain but didn't say anything in response.

Jack leaned toward his first mate and gestured with his thumb towards Aaron. "Me thinks that one might be a bit of a simpleton." Mr. Gibbs nodded in agreement.

Aware he was making himself look like an idiot he turned and nearly ran down the steps. He swiftly ducked below deck and found his way to the cannons. Sitting down next to one he leaned his head against the cool metal and thought about what he had just heard.

A laugh escaped him as he realized fully what had just happened: they were playing into the commodore's plan without him having to say anything! He would get all the benefits without doing any of the work! And I spent all that time making up a story about me parents bringin' me to the island when I were little, he scoffed to himself. This was just too easy!

As he stood up and brushed himself off he smothered the tiny voice that told him what he was doing was wrong. "Captain Aaron Jacoby," he said with a chuckle, "sounds rather nice. Commodore Aaron Jacoby sounds even better." There was a smugness to the way he carried himself as he walked up on deck and continued his duties.

The morning of the raid found a very troubled and sleep deprived Aaron stumbling onto the deck of The Black Pearl. He had lain awake all night trying to convince himself he didn't feel guilty at all over what he was doing, a drastic contrast to how he had spent the previous day. Ever since learning Jack planned on using the smaller harbor he had felt great; he'd drowned out what was left of his unease, with the help of a bottle of rum, and enjoyed fantasizing about his future. However, as soon as he lay down in his hammock below deck, surrounded by the snoring of the crew, the uncertainty he had felt before came flooding back. This time he couldn't suppress it no matter how hard he tried.

Sluggishly he went about his duties, all the while plagued by his thoughts. He was the only one of the crew not excited about the raid, well except for Jack. The captain stood all day at the helm with a distant expression on his face. Around him the deck was abuzz with anticipation. Lately they had been complaining about their lack of pirating and now they were getting their wish.

At least they be thinking they are, Aaron thought with another pang of guilt.

It was late in the evening when a call from the crow's nest announced the presence of land in the distance. The whole crew ran to the railing to try and get a glimpse of their target but the island was still too far off.

Jack and Gibbs began shouting orders in earnest and the crew scurried above and below deck to carry them out. All except Aaron. He lingered by the main mast near the captain and the first mate. His conflicting emotions felt like they were tying his insides in a knot and he couldn't bring himself to move. No one noticed him standing there; they were all too busy with their own assignments.

Though it seemed like forever to Aaron, only a few minutes past before most of the final preparations were done and the crew was gathered on deck, weapons ready. It was fully dark now, clouds covering the moon and the only light coming from the ship's lanterns.

"Looks like everythin's ready, Cap'n," Gibbs said, excitement in his voice.

Captain Jack Sparrow sniffed and looked around his ship. "It would appear so. Douse the lanterns."

Mr. Gibbs was about to relay the order when he was interrupted by Aaron stepping forward.

"Stop! Ye can't raid this port!" he shouted. This caused the crew to mummer to each other. Most were convinced he was mad, including Mr. Gibbs.

"What the devil ye talkin' 'bout, boy?" he demanded.

Aaron, now in the middle of a circle formed by the crew, faced Jack. He took a few deep breaths before announcing, "It's a trap. There're be no merchant ships but a fleet of Navy ships waiting for us, for you."

Now the crew was talking among themselves in earnest, creating a loud and unintelligible sound. Above this commotion Mr. Cotton's parrot was squawking, "Walk the plank!"

Jack cleared his throat loudly and the commotion quieted down. He took a few slow steps toward Aaron, his left hand resting on his cutlass and his right hand mirroring the other's position though there was nothing to rest it on. "And just how did you come to obtain this bit of information, eh?"

The young pirate swallowed before replying in a broken voice, "Commodore Elsworth wanted me to get ye to use the smaller harbor so his ships could trap ye in."

With angry shouts the crew began to draw their weapons. They hurled curses and threats at Aaron who watched the captain with a devastated expression.

"Jack! He was goin' to let us walk right into their trap! No, he was goin' to tell us to walk into the trap! Yesterday, remember?" Gibbs exclaimed, moving to stand at Jack's shoulder.

Captain Jack turned to face his first mate, a slightly annoyed look on his face. "I'd figured that out for me self mate." He waited until Gibbs took a step back before facing his crewmember. "What'd he offer you?"

"A full pardon and an enlistment and a short cut to me own ship."

Nodding his head Jack mulled over what the young pirate had said. He clapped his hands together suddenly. "Get moving you useless lot! The Navy's near and yer lollygagging about the deck! Get my ship turned around!" When the crew hesitated, looking between their treacherous crewmate and their captain he bellowed "Now!" That got them going until the only ones left standing still were Jack and Aaron.

Unnerved by the captain's unwavering stare, Aaron looked down at his feet. He wondered what would happen to him now, mostly if he would be marooned or keel-hauled. He also wondered why he was still alive, he had half expected to be shot immediately.

"You were really going to let us all be captured?" Jack inquired at last.

"Aye."

"What made you change your mind?

It took a moment for Aaron to answer. He recalled the flashes of annoyance and frustration the commodore had displayed. "Fer one thing, I figured he wouldn't really let me go, I'd probably hang with you lot."

"Probably true," Jack agreed.

"But mostly somethin' just didn't sit right."

"Ah, that annoying voice telling you to do the right thing? Troublesome bugger. I do my best to ignore it and it usually goes away."

Aaron chuckled nervously. "I did me best to ignore it."

"That's good, means you're dishonest and I can trust you to be dishonest. If you had said something, then you would be honest, and honest men will eventually do stupid things without warning. Bloody obnoxious."

For a while all Aaron could do was stare in confusion at Jack, trying to work out what he had just said. Finally, he figured it out. "But I told the truth, doesn't that make me honest?"

"True!" Jack replied, pointing at the young pirate. "Which means I can trust you to do stupid things and also be dishonest." With that he turned and strode off toward the helm.

Aaron watched his captain leave, his right eye twitching slightly. Cap'n's one crazy pirate! he thought and scampered across the deck to help his crew get the ship turned around.

My first Pirates of the Caribbean fanfic!

I wrote it for a DeviantART contest. The theme was "Would you help Jack Sparrow or betray him."

Now, most of you probably noticed that my OC's name is the male spelling of my name, Eryn. There is a reason for this! The theme was would you help or betray Jack, which sounds very personal, like say a first person story. One problem: I generally hate first person. I don't like writing it, I rarely like reading it (no offence to you you first person authors), I don't even like playing first person shooter games. So I wrote third person but named my OC after myself. Problem solved!

How did you like Aaron? He's just like me, only a pirate... and a man, and devoid of my moral center. Other than that he's just like me! Also, he's got to be the biggest scumball I've ever written as a protagonist. Should be good practice if a ever write a Jack centric fanfic.

You guys have no idea what I did to write this story. First step: watch Curse of the Black Pearl while wearing my cursed Aztec medallion and clip on beads in my hair. The next day I added a blue bandanna and lots of dark eyeshadow to my pirate attire and watched Dead Man's Chest. Not only that, I sent my mum out to get me a bottle of sparkling apple cider which I drank straight from the bottle and I listened to pirate music all day long. I think I've gone a little insane from spending too much time in Jack's head, even though he's hardly in here. The things we do for art.

I cannot wait for On Stranger Tides! I'm going to go see the primiere.

Why can't I write a short oneshot? Why must they always be so long? For that matter, why can't I write short artist's comments? The answer: I'm crazy

Thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Constructive criticism, critiques, reviews, and favs are most welcome!

Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all its characters belong to Disney. I really wish they were mine but they're not. My OCs and this plot are mine.