Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: This is the first in what I'm hoping will be a series of AU stories, where different characters become the Captain of the Flying Dutchman. Most will pick up at the end of Dead Man's Chest, though one will not. This is, of course, subject to change. Characters to be subject of the next stories will be Jack, Elizabeth, and Will again, but with a different timeline. On to the story.

Different Captains

James Norrington- Plans Unravelled

James Norrington was running for his life through the trees on the Isla Cruces, the Dead Man's Chest clutched in his arms. The empty Dead Man's Chest. Its contents were currently hidden in his coat. He knew that Davy Jones' rather hideous crewmen weren't far behind. Elizabeth, Sparrow and Turner must be clear of the island by now. Time to put his plan in action. He turned, threw the chest back at the crewmen, and they took it and ran off. Just as expected. Everything was going well.

He'd nearly reached the opposite side of the jungle when he tripped. Fell flat on his face. Everything seemed to be in order. No sprained ankle. He checked the heart.

There was a large splinter of dead wood poking through it.

James couldn't remember the last time he'd been so angry. He could feel his plans unravelling around him. Without the heart he had nothing to bargain with. There was nothing he could offer Beckett. Nothing!

Though he did derive a small sense of satisfaction in knowing that the Kraken would eat Jack. An unworthy thought, perhaps, but somehow satisfying. And since the pirate had been absolutely right, he thought he'd rather like to get his own back in regards to William Turner as well.

But now what was he going to do? Going to Beckett was hardly an option, even with the letters of marque. Returning to the Pearl was not viable either, with the Kraken on the hunt.

His promise of redemption, lost because of a tree root and a splinter. Any hope of regaining his position, even of escaping criminal charges, any hope of a normal life, gone.

A normal life…

Elizabeth would be returning to the Black Pearl with her fiancé. And the Kraken was on the hunt. There were so many reasons to stay away, but one more important one to go back. Not that he thought Turner would be unable to protect Elizabeth, just that he would like to make doubly sure of it. He turned to cross the island again, only to find the fishy crew of the Dutchman standing behind him.

It appeared that the entire crew was there. And they were advancing on him, chanting "the Dutchman must have a Captain". James drew his sword.

"Get back."

His only response was the chant. "The Dutchman must have a Captain. The Dutchman must have a Captain."

"Get back, I said!" The Dutchman's crew kept advancing. What was going on? Only one of them was carrying a weapon, and that weapon was a knife. No swords were in evidence, nothing.

One of the crewmen moved to grab his arm. He slashed at it. But the rest of the crew jumped at him then, and there was no way James could win against so many. For all his skill he was disarmed within thirty seconds. The crew pinned him down, holding his arms and legs. One tore his shirt open.

And now the crewman with the knife was advancing on him, putting the knife to his chest, cutting into it…

His blood was spurting everywhere and the last thing James heard was the chanting of "the Dutchman must have a Captain" before everything went dark.

---

James woke up. He wasn't expecting to.

So this is hell, he thought. It's very sunny. Looks remarkably like where I died.

"Sorry, Captain, we couldn't open the chest," a voice nearby said. "Though we could put your heart in a bag until we get the key back, if you like."

Just my luck, I get sent to a circle of hell that makes no sense.

He sat up and received another shock. He was surrounded by pirates. Rather ragged-looking pirates, but pirates nonetheless. And he actually was sitting on the same beach where he died.

"Who are you all?" he asked.

The man who had spoken before replied, "we're your crew, Captain."

James snorted. "I used to have a ship. Not any more. 'Deckhand wot takes orders from pirates', that's what I am now."

"I beg to differ, Captain. You're Captain of the Flying Dutchman now."

"The Flying Dutchman? Then…you'd be its crew?"

The man smiled. "That's us, sir."

James was having difficulty processing this, but he'd be damned- again- if he was going to show it. "Then perhaps you'd care to explain why you no longer resemble fish."

"It's a bit hard to explain, Captain."

"Then do your best and I shall also endeavour to understand."

The man sighed and began, "Well, sit, it's like this. The Flying Dutchman was always supposed to ferry souls to the next world. But Davy Jones, he didn't. No, sir. An' there's a price must be paid for neglecting the duty. Now we have a Captain again, one who'll do the job…" he trailed off, somewhat awkwardly.

James drew the logical conclusion. "You are returned to human form. My next question. Why am I the Captain?"

"Ah, now that, sir, would be because you was the one wot killed the last Captain," he said.

"I killed nobody. I tripped and fell and a splinter pierced the heart."

"Be that as it may, sir, you were the one responsible. And speaking of hearts, Cap'n, what do you want done with yours?"

Indignant, James said, "It was an accident!" And then it hit him. "What do you mean, what do I want done with my heart?"

"Like I said, Captain, we couldn't open the chest, we don't have the key."

A horrible suspicion was dawning on James. It was only confirmed when he raised his hand to his chest and felt the raised, slightly tender scar there, and noted the lack of heartbeat beneath it. "You…you cut out my heart?" he asked, throat dry.

The crewman's face was sombre as he said, "I'm afraid so, sir. What with the curse an' all. No choice. The Dutchman needs a living heart."

James' voice was equally solemn as he asked, "Are there any other conditions I need to know about?"

"Uh…yes, sir. You only get one day on land every ten years at sea. Once you leave this island, and you'll have to at sunset, no disrespect intended, you won't be able to set foot on land for another ten years. Oh, and you won't die until someone else stabs the heart."

James was silent for a minute or so. Then he spoke again. "Very well. Here are my first orders as Captain. Put my heart in a bag and give it to me, then return to the ship. Leave a boat for me ashore, I will come to the ship at sunset."

"Beggin' your pardon, Captain, we don't have boats," the crewman said, a shadow of a smile on his face. "Don't need 'em."

That also gave James pause. "Very well. I will still be there at sunset. Now, if you will allow me my one day."

---

Where to go from here? Captain of the Flying Dutchman. He certainly had something to offer Beckett now. But he remembered what the crewman had said. There is a price to be paid for neglecting the duty. Obviously the tentacles came not from the position as Captain of the Flying Dutchman, but from not doing the work required.

It would seem he had a duty again. One entirely different to any he could have imagined, but a duty all the same. James was usually quite honest with himself. He knew he was happiest when he had a duty and could fulfil it in the manner he chose. Captaining the Flying Dutchman could give him that.

For eternity, true, but it could give him that all the same. He would sail the seas for eternity, watching face after face pass into the afterlife that he may never know. He might even see faces that he knew. It would kill him to see Elizabeth there, he knew. Kill him in a metaphorical sense.

He'd lost any hope of winning Elizabeth with this turn of events, he knew. Even had her heart not already been won- either by Mr. Turner or Jack Sparrow, it didn't matter to him- how could she love a man who could be with her only once every ten years? No, he had to give Elizabeth up entirely. Once he was sure she was safe from Beckett, in any event.

And what of Jack Sparrow's fate? Letting him be eaten by the Kraken and Davy Jones sending him to the Locker was one thing, but James realised that the Kraken was probably subject to his control now, and the Locker definitely was. That made things different in some ways. Jack Sparrow had done him wrong, he still believed that, but he wasn't sure if Sparrow had done him that much wrong. He thought much the same way of William Turner.

And if Elizabeth loved one of them…

No, he couldn't let them be killed either, whether by the Kraken or by Beckett.

Surely the job could wait a few days. Just while he worked something out. He'd barter the key for the chest of Sparrow, and surely he could work something out with Beckett, so he rescinded the arrest warrant for Elizabeth. And Turner, if he must. Elizabeth should have some protection.

He spent the rest of the afternoon watching the horizon where the Pearl had once been.

---

James discovered quickly that he did not, in fact, need a boat to get to the Dutchman either. As soon as he had stepped into the ocean and thought right, now how do I get over to the Dutchman, he appeared on the deck. He resolved to experiment more with the ability later.

The crewman who had explained matters to him ashore was waiting for him. "Your orders, Captain?"

James looked at the man. "What's your name, sailor?"

"Turner, sir. William Turner."

"Turner…"

"Yes, sir. Turner."

"I know a Turner."

"It's a fairly common name, Captain."

"Tell me, Mr. Turner, what do you know of the Kraken?" James inquired. As much as he hated being ignorant, he had to have this information.

Mr. Turner hesitated for a second, then said "Well, it was always Davy Jones' pet, Captain. Don't know what would become of it without 'im."

"Thank you, Mr. Turner. Back to your duties."

"Yes, sir."

This was an interesting development. William Turner had said his father was a prisoner aboard the Dutchman. It seemed that if he had to bargain with Turner, he had something. Additionally, it would seem that he might not be able to call the Kraken off, just as Sparrow had thought.

The helmsman called out, and James realised he had been lost in thought.

"Captain! Where to?"

Without looking at the man, James replied, "We find the Endeavour."

---

It hadn't taken long at all to find the ship in question. Sailing conventionally, against the wind, the Dutchman was faster than even the Pearl. Sailing…unconventionally...

Well, James had nothing and no ship to compare that to, but it was faster than sailing conventionally.

The manner in which they'd found the Endeavour had been rather unconventional too. It seemed like the ship just knew where to go. Not an hour after they had left the Isla Cruces, they were resurfacing at their destination.

Before he left the Dutchman, James took the precaution of hiding his heart aboard. It would not do for Beckett to get a hold of it. He should really reclaim the key from Sparrow, he thought. The locked chest he left in plain view, in the middle of the Captain's cabin, with orders for the crew to guard it.

Then he used the abilities he seemed to have gained as Captain of the Flying Dutchman and simply willed himself into Beckett's stateroom. To Beckett's credit, his eyes only widened slightly.

"Ah, former Commodore Norrington. What can I do for you." It was not phrased as a question, but as a statement, just to be perfectly clear that Beckett thought Norrington was here to broker a deal.

"I want to talk about the fate of Miss Elizabeth Swann," he said, by way of opening negotiations.

"Yes, I rather thought you would. Tea?"

For some reason, Norrington found the idea of accepting the man's hospitality, such as it was, repugnant. "No, thank you," he replied.

"Very well then. What specifically do you think the fate of Miss Swann should be?" Beckett's even, chilly voice gave nothing away. James had heard the man was a formidable businessman, and supposed that ability to hide his emotions stood him in good stead at the negotiating table.

He knew what he wanted. Elizabeth safe. But he couldn't ensure that, not ever. Elizabeth was the sort of girl who would get herself in danger, and god help him he loved her for it. He could, however, do his best to see her safe from Cutler Beckett. William Turner and Jack Sparrow would have to defend her from pirates.

"I want you to rescind the arrest warrants for Elizabeth, William Turner and Jack Sparrow."

Beckett looked only mildly interested as he poured himself some tea. "Do you now?" he said. "What about what I want? By your manner of arrival I would say that possession of Davy Jones' heart is beyond me, but that does not mean I have no other ambitions. No, Mr. Norrington-"

"Captain Norrington." Now he sounded like Sparrow.

Beckett bowed his head in a slight acquiescence. "Captain Norrington. No, Captain Norrington, what I want is the pirates destroyed in their stronghold at Shipwreck Cove." He sipped his tea.

James did not reply.

Eventually Beckett sighed and said, "Come now, Captain. If this is a negotiation there must be some give and take. I have something you want, and you can offer me something that I want very much indeed."

"You want me to destroy the pirate stronghold."

"Obviously. If you do that, I will burn the arrest warrants. There is no disadvantage to you in this. Hunting pirates was your duty once." Beckett's eyes were boring into him.

James wasn't entirely sure how ethical this was, how it fit into the morality of his strange new job, but all he had left from his previous life was his self-appointed duty to protect Elizabeth. "Very well, then," he said, just as coldly as Beckett. "But I would like you to show me a token of good faith first."

Beckett's expression still didn't change. "Give and take, Captain. I shall burn the warrants for William Turner and Jack Sparrow now, and wait until you have followed through on your side of the bargain to burn the last one."

James knew that that would be the best deal he could get out of Beckett. He did not particularly want to slaughter unsuspecting people without following due process of law, but they were only pirates. "Agreed," he said, and held out his hand.

For the first time during their meeting, Beckett smiled slightly. "Agreed. Guards!" He shouted the last word, and soon Mercer himself was hurrying into the room.

Stumbling slightly, the guards on the door rushed in and drew their swords as they spotted James.

"Sir! We swear we've been there the whole time-"

"He didn't pass us, honestly-"

"We didn't mean-"

"Be quiet!" Beckett snapped at them. "You are here because I need witnesses. I am going to burn these documents."

"Yes, sir," the guards said in unison, obviously cowed.

Sure enough, Beckett fed the warrants for William Turner and Jack Sparrow into a lantern flame. Then he folded Elizabeth's warrant and slipped it into his jacket. "Be warned, Captain Norrington. If you do not fulfil your side of the deal, I will personally make sure she is captured, given a fair trial and hung. I shall see you at Shipwreck Cove in three days time. Good evening to you."

The meeting was over. On Beckett's terms. Knowing he'd been cornered, James left the same way he came.

---

Three days later, at sunset, he looked over the rail of the Dutchman towards the assembled pirate fleet. He imagined that he could see Sparrow's distinctive hat.

He imagined that he could not see Elizabeth's golden hair shining in the last of the sunlight.

"Beggin' y' pardon, cap'n, but there's on'y so long we can go withou' doin' th' job, cap'n, sir," a crewman told him anxiously.

James still looked towards the pirates, where he could most definitely see Elizabeth standing on a rail addressing her crew. "I know that, man," he said. "This will be our last day." Softer, he added, "I promise."

---

He had known since he made the deal with Beckett that he would be the one mopping up the remains of the battle. The first souls he guided to the afterlife would be the ones he had been responsible for removing from this life. Bound by his agreement, he had had to attack the pirate fleet. Beckett had refused to negotiate with the pirates.

He hoped he would not have to ferry Elizabeth's soul on. He'd made a special point of visiting Beckett to see her warrant burned.

In fact, he didn't even know if the Pearl had survived. The Endeavour had engaged it in battle, not the Dutchman. If she was dead, then at least he would have the relief of knowing that he was not the one who killed her, nor did he have to watch her die.

The ship moved through the dark waters, collecting the departed souls. As Captain, he was in demand, asking again and again, "Do you fear death?" Many of them did, but not enough to sign on. Pirates. They'd heard the stories of his predecessor.

Sailors, too, he collected. Beckett's henchman Mercer had been one of them. Personally, James would be very glad to get Mercer off his ship; he was just glad Mercer had been one of the many to refuse service.

Finally he came across where he'd last seen the Pearl. He recognised a few of the crew in the water. The man with the parrot. The fool with the wooden eye.

Then he saw them. William Turner. And Elizabeth. Their bodies were separated by driftwood, her throat slashed. He, surrounded by several other bodies, had probably been killed trying to save her, or to reach her, to hold her as she died.

On the day his first life, his life as a respected naval officer, ended, he had told William Turner that he expected that he would show Elizabeth the care and devotion he showed his smithing. You didn't show enough care, James thought, but you always had devotion, didn't you, William Turner?

He found their souls perched side by side and hand in hand on more floating wreckage about a hundred yards away. I didn't show enough care either, did I? Or perhaps too much. He had failed her- been responsible for her death, and that of the man she loved.

But now, he could do this last thing for her. She had showed so many times that she did not fear death. He could guide her on, and then he could continue with his new duty and penance.

And as he took her hand to haul her aboard, followed closely by her fiancé, he thought that eternity was about what he owed her.