Warnings: none

A week later, Beckett stood on the platform of the gallows in Port Royal, his hands tied with rope in front of him, a noose around his neck. His face was peaceful and composure completely intact. Members of the Royal Navy were becoming unnerved by this sense of tranquility in their former employer. The newly appointed lord of the East India Trading Company watched on, amazed at how Beckett uttered not a word of anger or disgust over this change of circumstance. He had previously been the condemner of alleged pirates, the observer of dozens of civilian deaths, many probably innocent of their crimes. And now he was to hang.

He was not innocent of his crimes, that was for certain. The newly appointed lord of the East India Trading Company had heard of Beckett's cowardice, balking before the battle with the pirate enemy had even begun. What other way to explain these actions than by treachery?

Beckett remained quiet in the brig of the Navigator as it returned him to Jamaica, specifically Port Royal, for his trial. They had patched and treated the gunshot wound in his upper back near his shoulder blade.

When the medic approached him to tend to his wound, Beckett remarked dryly, "What's the point of attending my wounds when I'll be dead in less than a week?" Even so, the doctor did what he could, and soon Beckett's ugly wound was on its way to healing, if only for that week.

At his brief trial in Port Royal Beckett was not able to speak for himself, although he would shake his head when witnesses spoke untruths. However, there was one question he was allowed to respond to, as he stood at his bench:

"What was meant by your last statement aboard the Endeavour, Mister Beckett," the judge asked him, gazing down at him from his high podium.

Lord. Lord Beckett, he mouthed irritably, rolling his eyes.

"I believe I asked you a question," he heard the judge remark.

Beckett was both irritated and confused.

"What last statement," he replied blandly.

The judge looked at his papers, straightening his long curly wig with a wrinkled hand.

"It says here that you referred to something being good business."

Beckett could not remember saying the now infamous phrase he had let slip when he had been in an utter daze, watching his ship get blown to pieces. He could only stand there silently in front of the judge, mouth slightly ajar, eyes downcast as he searched his mind for this recollection, avoiding the gaze of the surviving witnesses who had heard him say those last words.

Several minutes of thought must have passed, because the judge had since adopted a look of aggravation.

"Although you behave as if you cannot remember these words, I have several witnesses who can confirm your last words mentioning it being 'just good business' to be true. And they swear that these words referred to the deal you had previously made with the pirates."

Beckett looked back at Lieutenant Groves, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat. And I had thought he idolized me. So much for my assumptions…

Suddenly he was able to recall what he had said, and remembered his deal with Jack in the Endeavour.

"Well, that's true, but—" he sputtered.

"That is all," the judge said dismissively, waving his hand. Immediately afterwards, the guards seated him again and the ruling was made.

Of course he was pronounced guilty after the proceedings.

And now he stood, calm and unaffected as ever, the rope already feeling like it was cutting off circulation in his neck. His throat was drier than it had ever been. Yet he could not let any pain show. He was going to die with dignity, no matter what the cost. There was no explanation that could redeem his aiding the pirates into escaping from the Royal Navy the night he was shot. Now that he had voluntarily helped the pirates, he considered himself to be a traitor. He was not immune to his own laws; that he had to respect.

The official stepped forward, facing the condemned as he announced the details of the execution that was to take place shortly.

"Cutler Beckett, be it known that you have been sentenced to death for your willful commission of crimes against the crown. Namely for treason by means of conspiring with the pirate enemy resulting in the death of one-hundred-and-twenty-six employees of the East India Trading Company, as well as resulting most recently in the death of thirty-five employees of the Royal Navy aboard the H.M.S. Victory."

Beckett scanned the crowd very briefly, not allowing his eyes to focus for more than a moment on the various gathered individuals. Lieutenant Groves was here, as well as other officers that had apparently survived the attack on the Endeavour. Those men were not able to make eye contact with him as he stood on the platform. The official continued speaking throughout Beckett's reverie.

"And for these crimes you have been sentenced to be, on this day, hung by the neck until dead. May God have mercy on your soul."

A drumroll began soon thereafter. Beckett set his jaw, keeping his head held high, eyes focused above the barracks of the fort. His stance was proud, dignified, as he had always presented. Beckett was rather famous for maintaining a calm composure at all times, and this, his now third encounter with death, would be no different.

The hangman grabbed the lever for the trapdoor as the officer nodded his head to signal. All of a sudden a gunshot rang out, slicing the rope cleanly just as the trapdoor was released from beneath Beckett's feet.

Beckett fell to the dirt below the platform, coughing from the cloud of dust that resulted, a sharp pain jutting through his wounded shoulder. He was more confused than he had ever been in his life. Never had a hanging he'd witnessed gone awry like this….

Jack and Elizabeth suddenly appeared in the crowd, Elizabeth holding a smoking pistol. They were bedecked in Royal Navy garb, and rushed down through the crowd, a loaded gun in each hand.

Upon reaching Beckett, the condemned former lord stood up and gaped at his former captors in surprise and shock. Elizabeth and Jack sandwiched his body between them, slicing the rope binding his wrists as they made their way up to the lookout over the harbour, keeping everyone back by brandishing their readied firearms. Jack yanked Beckett along by the intact rope hanging from his neck, him helpless to resist.

As the redcoats and East India Trading Company employees advanced upon them quite cautiously – they hadn't actually expected all the allegations to be true – the trio stood high above the waters below.

Suddenly the three disappeared, plunging into the ocean below.

When they resurfaced, Beckett could not help but gape in silence at the rescue that had just been performed at his hanging. Jack and Elizabeth tread water nearby, squinting up at the people on the lookout. The rope around his neck was now wet and heavy, and he groaned. Suddenly he remembered Elizabeth's smoking pistol, and realized something.

"I thought you said you were a bad shot at a distance," he told her, the only thing he was able to say.

"I am. I was aiming at the executioner," she replied jokingly.

Jack and Beckett couldn't help but laugh at her confession. It was the first time Elizabeth had heard Beckett's natural laugh, which was really quite pleasant. It was relatively quiet and polite-sounding, but more high-pitched than his normal voice. Nothing at all sinister about it.

As the enraged Royal Navy and EITC employees stewed high above the shoreline, Jack looked at Beckett, using his dagger as a saw to work through the length of rope that trailed behind Beckett.

"You're free to go as you please, but I would strongly advise not stayin' here, if you want to live," he told Beckett, tossing the remainder of rope behind him. Beckett considered, as he looked back up at the crowd on the peak, seeming to be aiming their weapons in his general direction.

"Well, I suppose I really have no other choice but to go with you… at least for the time being."

The Pearl was his only ticket off the island and certain death, and there was no turning back now. Jack and Elizabeth had established with their actions that they now allies, and no amount of convincing would persuade the courts to think otherwise.

Elizabeth and Jack proceeded to swim out to the Black Pearl, which floated offshore a short distance, her sails luffing in the wind. Beckett lagged behind, for the pain in his shoulder was greatly impeding his ability to swim. I've cheated death yet another time— Beckett mused, as he watched Jack and Elizabeth, his unlikely allies, swimming a distance in front of him. –And this time I'm going to make the most of it.

So, what did you think? Would you like to see more? If you would like to see more, tell me so that I can begin doing so!

-Amymimi