Part 2: Take Thine Refuge With Thine Wine in the Nothing Behind Everything
Notes: Still not mine, Movies AU
I'm taking the movies and a version of the script I found on Kindle and combining that with dropping Charlie into the mix to create the AU.
One thing Tortuga could never be called is 'boring'. Or 'quiet' for that matter. Drunken revellers lined the streets, some laughing happily, others fighting. In the darkened corners and alleys men and women concluded less than legal business. But tonight none of that bothered Charlie as she charged straight through it, ducking and whirling out of the way like a woman on a mission.
Jack Sparrow was on Tortuga collecting a crew and he had not thought to find her. The bastard
knew she would be there - he had left her in the Bahamas a little over two months prior with the promise to meet her in Tortuga in two weeks. Two weeks, my foot!
As she approached The Faithful Bride she saw patrons spilling out into the streets, tangled in fights. She stopped and sighed. This was probably Jack's fault.
Two men tumbled out the main door, wrestling each other to the ground and Jack Sparrow and Joshamee Gibbs appeared in the doorway behind them. "Jack!" she called out.
He startled and turned in the direction of her voice. "Charlie!" he greeted genially.
"Don't you 'Charlie!' me, you were supposed to be here three weeks ago!" she shot back, pointing an accusing finger.
His features screwed up in confusion and he looked around wildly. "What day is it?"
Instead of answering, Charlie stood her ground, arms crossed.
"I'm sorry?" he tried next, face split by a wide and slightly nervous grin. A gunshot from the tavern caused him to jump and move forward. "Why don't we return to the Pearl and I'll fill you in, aye?"
She looked at Gibbs who shrugged, then rolled her eyes in defeat. "Lead the way, Captain," she muttered.
As they walked through the town Jack told her about Davy Jones and the Black Spot, and mentioned that he needed a crew to go after Jones. There was definitely something he was leaving out. He skipped around too much and glossed over what seemed like big details. Jack Sparrow was spooked and up to something he was not happy about. Something he would not even tell Charlie. The entire conversation, Gibbs strolled along next to Jack and looked everywhere but at her and Jack. Whatever it was they both knew.
And whatever it was she was not about to press it when they had room to run away. It would keep until they were at sea.
As they approached the ship a voice called out to Jack.
"Come to join me crew lad?" he asked, half turning to look at the speaker as he continued forward. "Welcome aboard!"
Charlie glanced over her shoulder and saw Elizabeth Swann dressed in men's clothing, then turned back to Jack. "Lad?"
"I'm here to find the man I love," Elizabeth said.
"I'm deeply flattered, son, but -."
"Jack, it's Elizabeth Swann," Charlie chided him as she turned around to embrace her friend.
"Hide the rum," she heard Jack whisper to Gibbs.
Stepping back from the hug, she asked, "how are you?" Next to them she saw a filthy man hunched over some barrels emptying the contents of his stomach into the water.
Elizabeth's expression wavered only for a moment. "Will. I know he came looking for Jack." Her eyes moved from Charlie to a very guilty looking Jack. "Where is he?"
"You know," Jack began, "these clothes don't flatter you at all. It should be a dress or nothing. I happen to have no dress in my cabin!"
Charlie reached out to hit him in the arm and shouted at the same time as Elizabeth, "Jack!"
Jack grimaced. "Very well." He turned to Elizabeth and continued, "darling, I am truly unhappy to tell you this, but, through an unfortunate and entirely unforeseeable series of circumstances that have nothing whatsoever to do with me, poor William has been press-ganged into Davy Jones' crew."
As Elizabeth echoed the name Charlie hit Jack again and asked, "what did you do?" On the upside, she supposed, at least now she knew why Jack and Gibbs were being fidgety earlier.
"Oh, please," the drunk man next to them began with a familiar voice, "the Captain of The Flying Dutchman?" When he stood upright he revealed himself to be Commodore Norrington. Well, upright was a relative term. He stood swaying, nearly in time with the light breeze in the port.
Charlie gaped. "Commodore?"
"Don't call him that," Jack whispered theatrically to her. "Gets upset, starts fights." Turning back to Norrington, he swayed backward a little. "You look bloody awful, what are you doing here?"
Norrington leaned back a little to brace himself against the barrels. "You hired me, remember? I can't help it if your standards are lax." And with that he turned to let loose on the water again.
"You smell funny," Jack taunted childishly.
Charlie rolled her eyes, then pushed Jack aside and shoved her way between him and Elizabeth to get to Norrington, who was still hunched over the barrels. His once pristine white wig was now grimy and flecked with dirt, the jacket that was once his uniform jacket was caked with mud and what she assumed was vomit. He smelled as though he had been rolling around in pig shit. Nonetheless she reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. "What happened?" she asked softly.
"In hindsight, perhaps cheating was not my finest idea," he laughed bitterly as soon as he stopped heaving.
She opened her mouth and immediately closed it. If Jack had been correct, and it seemed likely given the state of Norrington's uniform, she was unsure of what to call him. Would he allow her to use his given name? He had not even met her eyes yet.
Standing a little more upright, he pushed her hand away and walked to the other side of the dock. "I resigned," was all he said, as though that explained everything.
Fine. He wanted to be obtuse, so could she. "I should hope so, otherwise the Royal Navy have become quite lenient in their uniform standards."
He laughed sharply again, leaning over the rails on the dock. For a moment she thought he was about to heave again, but he seemed to have reined it in.
With a sigh, she came to stand next to him, mimicking his pose. "Are you going to tell me or am I going to have to guess?"
This time when he opened his mouth to reply, he leaned forward and vomited again. She reached out and pushed a piece of his wig out of the way, holding it back behind his ear when it stubbornly refused to stay on its own. Over her shoulder she saw Jack hand the compass over to Elizabeth and babble on about how he knew what she wanted most. Why the hell was Jack not using the compass himself? She met her friend's eyes and he quickly looked away before dramatically uncovering the compass and standing back. She turned to watch the scene unfold, curious about what Jack was up to.
Norrington stood up beside her and threw his arm around her shoulders for balance. As much as it pained her to admit, Jack was right, the man reeked to high heaven. She probably ought to shuffle him aboard and help him clean up before he nauseated the entire crew. "Are you done?" she asked, half turning her head to look up at him and breathing shallowly.
"Think so," he muttered as he swayed a little.
"Let's get you on board, then." She reached an arm behind his back to steady him and lead him toward the gangplank. Behind them Jack and Gibbs shouted orders to make sail for whatever direction the compass had shown Elizabeth.
One of the crew pushed past them, hauling a goat up to the ship. She recognised the man as one of the cursed pirates from Barbossa's crew. Why the hell was he with Jack's crew? "You," she called to him. "Get me a wash basin, have it brought to the first mate's cabin." When he looked behind her, presumably at Jack for permission, she pushed her face into his field of vision and said, "don't look at him, look at me and say 'yes, ma'am'."
The man bowed his head and muttered, "yes, ma'am." When he moved to hand the goat off to Norrington, Charlie put up her hand between them and gave her best glare. He shrugged an apology and walked away, giving the goat to another sailor.