A Friendship Shattered

A Pirates of the Caribbean Oneshot by Quill N. Inque

I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean.

"The betrayal of trust carries a heavy taboo." –Aldrich Ames

Chapter 1 (and only)

My clothes are wet and dripping with seawater as I stand on the beach. I see my ship, my ship, grow smaller and smaller as the winds and tides carry it away. The pistol you gave me before setting me adrift on this miserable island is the only possible comfort that I might have in the days to come.

We pirates may be a morally dubious lot, but there is no pain worse than the betrayal of a stout mate you once trusted. It is so hard to trust in our profession, and so treachery hurts those of us in the sweet trade most of all.

I can still see his grinning face, and hear the laugh of the man who I'd thought to be my trusty first mate.

My eyes are sad as I glance toward the horizon, knowing that your holding my beloved Pearl's wheel. I can feel the weight of your traitorous actions on my shoulders.

I was never anything but a friend to you, cur.

I cured you of all your ailments, and you had many over the years we sailed together. I cured you of the jeebies with a poultice of fish oil and brandy, and I rid you of lice with gunpowder and rum.

I always took care of you, Barbossa, and yet you betray me.

I have saved your worthless hide on more occasions than I care to count, like that time we were attacked by cannibals near Malay. They wounded you with an arrow in the side, and I almost got killed myself as I fought to get you back to the Pearl. I even stitched up your wounds personally, and gave you a swig of rum when you regained consciousness.

I always looked out for you, and yet you would try to kill me.

We were hearties. Shipmates. I trusted you.

The Pearl is MY ship, Barbossa. Even now, I can almost her timbers creak and groan. She knows you are not worthy of her. Have you scrubbed her deck every day like I have? Have you steered her clear of the rocks and floes that would do her harm? I have seen to her best interests, Barbossa, and I know that she loathes the feel of your boots as you walk her deck.

Hurt turns to fiery rage in my belly, and I glance at the pistol once more.

I will not give you the pleasure of knowing that I put that gun to my head. I will get off this mouldering sandpit, I will, and then you and I will have an accounting.

I never believed in curses, you blaggard, but I hope that that treasure you sail to claim is as cursed as the legends say. You deserve the torment, Barbossa. You deserve to suffer for what you've done to me.

Keep looking over your shoulder, Hector. Spend sleepless nights in your bunk, and know that I will come for you. I will not keel over until I put this bullet through your heart.

Enjoy your Captaincy while you can. It won't last forever.

Come Hell or high water, I'll get my ship back…