Written for the flashfic Twisted theme challenge on the Hostile Takeover Forum. If you are not a member of this forum, you ought to be.

Author Notes: This is set before the first movie - Curse of the Black Pearl.

TWISTED REVERIE

He had been in worse places before. Much worse - although this had to rank as one of the most desolate spots ever. They were at least three days' journey from the nearest port. And the island itself had very little vegetation, at least from the glimpse he had seen of it before they'd pushed him in here. Even if he did get out, chances were slim that he would survive.

"Enjoy yer stay, Sparrow!" a shout from above filtered down before they covered most of the opening, blocking the sunlight. Laughter trailed off as his captors wandered off.

"That's Captain, Captain Jack Sparrow," Jack muttered under his breath. He glanced about the tiny room he'd been dropped into. The four ash-grey walls showed the marks, probably from finger nails, of previous inhabitants. A single wooden bench was placed against one wall. No other furniture could be seen, but there were dark recesses where the light did not reach.

And then there was the smell.

He wrinkled his nose at the stench. Looking down, he discovered the source – dead bodies.

"Great, just what I needed. A dead crew, not that I've never encountered such a thing after the rum was all gone. Welcome aboard mates! Hope you saved some rum for me," he gently booted the body closest to him, rolling it over. Peering under it, he frowned. He picked up the bottle that had been lying under the body and peered into it. "Bugger! Drank it all, did you? Worthless wastrels. You're all fired as of immediately!" He tossed the bottle over his shoulder, wincing as he heard it crash and splinter into tiny pieces.

He gingerly tiptoed around the bodies, continuing to inspect the room he was in. He paused at one spot, a slight depression in the wall catching his eye. "Precisely what I expected."

He took his fist and pounded on the spot. On the third tap, his hand broke through the wall. His golden teeth flashed as he grinned, reaching into the hole. "Come to Jack…"

His eyes widened as his fingered encountered a sticky substance. Withdrawing his hand, he stared at it. "Not what I expected."

"What was ye expectin'?" a voice behind him asked.

Jack jumped. Spinning around, he reeled slightly as he lost his balance. Steadying himself with one hand against the wall, he peered at the spot where the voice had come from.

"O'er 'ear," the voice spoke again.

Jack twisted in the direction of the sound, one eye squinting to better see into the darker reaches of the room. "Who be you?" He could vaguely make out a form with a large hat pulled down over the face.

"I asked first," the voice replied, still standing in the shadowy reaches.

Jack pondered that for a moment before replying. "Oh, right. I suppose you did."

"And?"

"And what? Sorry, I forgot the question," Jack swayed slightly.

"What were ye expectin'? Stickin' yer 'and in 'at 'ole o'er there? Gold? Rum?"

"Well, rum would be nice," Jack agreed, grinned, flashing his golden teeth. He could sense a sneer in the unknown speaker though.

The voice cackled. "Pirate! Ought ter 'ave known."

Jack lifted one finger in the air. "Not just any pirate. I am Captain…"

"Jack Sparrow. I know." The voice cut him off.

"You know me?" Jack grinned happily.

"Aye, we've met. But ye said so yerself. After they dropped yer arse in 'ere."

Jack's face fell. "Oh, right." He then recalled his questions. "I answered, so your turn now."

Footsteps scuffed along the rock floors as the figure moved out of the shadows into the tiny sliver of light that existed, raising a fist and shaking it at him. "You owe me a ship!"

"Me? I… I don't know what to say…" Jack's eyes widened as he tried to figure out who this was. He thought he recognized the voice… but it couldn't be… that had been years ago.

"You stole my ship!" The figure moved closer. A finger waggling at him accusingly.

His eyes widened as he recognized the individual. "Boat, it was only a boat. And I only borrowed It. I intended to return it…"

"But you didn't! You sank it!" Anamaria drew her sword pointing it at Jack.

Jack reached to his side, only to discover they had taken his swords… and his pistol, before tossing him down here. "Stop!" He pointed to the tip of her sword. "Why do you still have a sword?"

"Why shouldn't I?" Anamaria asked then disappeared.

"Wait! Anamaria, come back! I'll replace your boat!" Jack shouted, his voice echoing off the walls in the tiny room. He peered around the room again, accepting he was all alone again… except for the bodies. "Well, if you don't come back, I guess I do not need to replace your boat," he spoke aloud, not expecting any response. "I was only trying to get the Black Pearl back."

"Good luck with that," another voice whispered. "You lost the Pearl, Jack. Just like you lost your first ship. The Wicked Wench, that was the name if I recall correctly." Clipped tones accentuating the clear English accent.

"Now who is here? And where the hell am I?" Jack asked in the general direction of the voice.

"What? You've forgotten me? I am disappointed in you Jack." Cutler Beckett stepped away from the walls into the light. "I heard it was mutiny upon the Pearl, from your first mate Barbossa," Beckett grinned. "Served you right after betraying me."

"I did not betray you. That was a cargo of human beings you asked me to transport, you lied to me!" Jack snapped back, eyes flashing as he stepped towards Beckett.

"Now, now, now," Beckett admonished him. "Yours was not to question orders, simply follow them. Your fault you chose to look below deck… and look at you now - pirate!"

"You branded me as a pirate!"

"Piracy seems to suit you well," Beckett held out a bottle of rum.

Jack grabbed at the bottle only to see it… and Becket, disappear.

"Well, this is a fine mess. Anyone else in here care to torment me?" Jack spoke to the empty room. When no one answered, he sighed and sat down on the single bench. Leaning back against the wall, he pulled his hat over his face and fell asleep… hoping it was all a dream, a very bad dream.

Author's note: This little tale Is also slightly related to two of my other stories - "My Fish" and "Opportunity" - both based on some of the backstory for POTC. "My Fish" contains my thoughts on how Jack first met Anamaria and stole her boat. "Opportunity" is based on some of the backstory from Dead Man's Chest. It touches on the history of the Black Pearl.