Abigail slept on the bench under a window in the shared cabin, curled up to fit in the small space. She had a dark smear on her face from the charcoal that was broken on the bench next to her right hand, which was under her head. An old suede-covered journal was still in her other hand, hanging just over the side of the bench. Her boots were neatly placed on the floor near her feet, which were covered in dirty white stockings with floral patterns on the ankles.

Carefully, Jack Sparrow draped a blanket over his sleeping daughter. He took a step back and smirked. This still wasn't the bed he actually spent money to buy her, but sleeping in the cabin was a big improvement from the old boat.

The journal finally slipped out of Abigail's hand as she relaxed under the blanket. Jack's smirk momentarily slipped, but returned when he realized she was just pulling the blanket closer. He picked up the journal and closed it, still watching the sleeping person. She really did look like her mother, though he could also see a lot of himself in her. He sat down on the floor next to the bench, making sure he didn't disturb her. He turned his back to her as his smirked turned into an actual smile.

'Having a child is the best and worst thing that will ever happen to you,' Jack remembered Edward Teague telling him once when they were both drunk in Tortuga. Was quiet, peaceful moments like this part of that best bit? Jack was damn sure he knew the worst….

Suddenly, Captain Jack Sparrow had the urge to look through the journal. The first page was a sketch of Captain Teague's favorite guitar, along with studies of the worn neck and frets of the instrument. Next few pages were sketches of the man himself, with various facial expressions and gestures that brought back so many memories to Jack. There were even full pages dedicated to his hands and rings. Every page had a label on the bottom corner. Some also had notes all around the pages about completely different things, like lists of things needed for that night's supper or reminders to do things.

Then, there was another familiar face: Will Turner.

Jack had to stop when he saw this sketch of a very clearly cursed Will. In the drawing, the current Captain of the Flying Dutchman had barnacles growing on his clothes and face. There was a starfish next to his left eye. Then he saw that Abigail had written 'Angel?' on the bottom of the page. He glanced over his shoulder at Abigail, questioning her definition of an angel.

He skipped the next few pages of cat drawings to another drawing of Will. This one showed the curse had progressed even further. It was again labeled as 'Angel?' and also included a reminder: 'ask drunk about sea myths-older better.'

The next page was very strange. It was covered in writing. Sentences that went left to right, just for another to go backwards over it. Some even went vertically through sentences. Some were written spiraling in with others spiraling out of them and interlocking. Some went in small sections going diagonally cross the page, with others crossing over to create large X's. It was a very concerning mess of letters, with just a few words even more concerning words standing out.

'William Turner'

'Flying Dutchman'

'Davy Jones'

'Calypso'

'Chronos'

"Chronos?" Jack repeated aloud to himself. He looked over at Abigail again. "Abigail, luv, you've already got a mess here. Let's not make it worse?"

The next several pages were the same. The same illegible mess of words that overlapped and crisscrossed in different ways. Jack couldn't figure out where most of the sentences even started. Then, after puzzling over every page of tangled writing, he found something that made him grin.

It was a sketch of him at the helm of the Black Pearl. There were also studies of the helm on the sides and bottom. There was also a drawing of his compass with a note: 'Must ask Dad how compass works.' His fingers lingered on his newest unspoken title.

The infamous pirate yawned, then slowly leaned his head back to watch Abigail. "Daughter."

Captain Jack Sparrow had fallen asleep in that position when the figure appeared. The slow step-scrape of his heavy footsteps broke the silence as he made his way to the table. The figure stopped at the table, only to find a bottle of rum at one end, a bottle of red wine at the other end, and a colorful bowl of fruit in the middle. The figure raised an arm to slam into the old piece of furniture in frustration, but then noticed the two sleeping people.

The stranger made his way around the table and stopped in front of Jack. He laughed quietly, placing the point of his claw-hand against the sleeping pirate's chest. Just one thrust and he'll finally be rid of Jack Sparrow.

The gunshot woke both Sparrows from their sleep. They were both alert and on their feet within seconds, Jack with his pistol and Abigail with a knife, to find themselves alone in the cabin. The door opening caught their attention.

Mr. Gibbs saw Jack turn the pistol on him and shoot the doorframe. "Dammit Jack it's me!"

"Well thank goodness I missed then, eh?" Jack offered innocently as he lowered the smoking gun.

The first mate looked around before shouting over his shoulder, "False alarm! Captains are safe! Back to your stations!"

Jack glanced back, quickly looking away as soon as he realized that Abigail kept her knife under her blouse. Then, some shiny caught his attention and he turned around. "Mr. Gibbs, you didn't see anyone else?"

"No one."

Abigail followed Jack's stare to the scattered crumbs on the floor. She kneeled down to examine some. "It's…shell?"

Mr. Gibbs looked over at the table. "Jack! The Code!"

Jack rolled his eyes, pointing to the chest in the corner of the cabin. Martha the cat was sitting on top, her amber eyes glowing in the dark. "The creepy fleabag won't let me open it."

Abigail stood up. "If Mr. Gibbs didn't see anyone leave then…."

All three looked at the door at the other end of the cabin. It was the only other exit, the captains' sleeping quarters. Jack took a step around Abigail, and stepped on something. A pistol. After quickly checking to make sure the pistol wasn't loaded, he started to examine the weapon. Both his and Abigail's eyes popped when they saw the name etched into the barrel of the gun.

'Edward Teague'

The rising sun's light bleed through the window into a particularly neat study. A woman sat at the desk, watching a crystal ball on the desk next to a folded letter. Before the door even fully opened behind her, she picked up the letter and held it over her shoulder. "The Black Pearl will arrive before noon. See to it that both Captain Sparrows receive this. Fitz and I would hate for them to miss tea."

Short chapter. I actually rewrote this chapter sooo many times, partly because I kept forgetting to save. I think I wrote five different versions of this chapter before settling on this.

Time to start writing chapter 4!