Summary: Prequel to A Man Of Honor. "Sparrow would not see sunset, if all went to plan." Former Commodore James Norrington attempts to get revenge on Jack Sparrow mid-battle, but things take a dangerous twist and he realizes something. One-shot. Set during DMC on Isla Cruces.

Choosing A Side

James Norrington eyed his target, who was distracted fending off the immortal fish crew of the Flying Dutchman. It seemed easy enough. He could slip in from behind and stab the pirate captain unnoticed, though then the opposing attackers would fall to him. He'd just have to hope that he could outfight them. He had little doubt he could, for he had once been part of the Royal Navy. Once.

Hence his reason for revenge.

He had spent months chasing Jack Sparrow and his crew, only for the time to be wasted when he gave the order to sail his own ship directly through a hurricane instead of around it, as the fast ship had. He had been the only survivor. And so, he had resigned and fled to the island of Tortuga. All because of Jack Sparrow.

And after spending the past few days in the arrogant pirate's presence, his opportunity had finally arrived.

Sparrow would not see sunset, if all went to plan.

But things never went to plan when Jack Sparrow was involved. He had learned that during their last large adventure, where the pirate had left out the fact of their opponents being cursed unkillable skeletons. That night had seen many casualties.

So, he would just have to hope that he could outmatch the pirate if his initial attack were to fail.

Norrington raised unimpressed eyebrows as Sparrow let out a strangled yelp of pain, stumbling back a few paces. The man's shirt and vest barely hung on his frame, torn by the slash of one of the enemy's swords. Maybe this would be easier than he thought.

He moved in, his own sword raised before him in preparation to strike. Yet, there was a fatal error to his plan. He hadn't accounted for the other crew attacking him during his assassination attempt.

He let out a choked sound of alarm as one of the immortal crewmembers swung a sword at him. He turned to abandoning his plan to ensure his own survival.

"Glad to see that ye've decided to help out!" Sparrow remarked, having not noticed that he'd nearly just been killed by the man beside him.

James gritted his teeth, frustrated, as he fought off the opposing crewmen. He would kill Sparrow, one way or another.

He caught a glimpse of crimson staining the other man's shirt, blood leaking down his exposed torso as the wound went untreated. But he didn't seem to be affected by it, for he fought with as much vigor as ever.

"Do you have a plan, Captain?" He asked the pirate.

"Watch an' learn, mate."

Sparrow skillfully knocked one of the cursed pirates off balance and shoved him back into the two behind him. They tumbled to the ground in a tangle of fish limbs. The pirate captain smirked in amused triumph.

Then Norrington struck.

But Sparrow must've seen the glint of light off of the sword as it swung at him, for he leapt just out of harm's way with wide eyes and turned his own weapon toward him. "Who's side are ye on, then?"

"Not yours." He assured him.

"Clearly." The pirate observed. He pushed on, appearing almost amused. "Though I oughta say, mate, ye really don't make a very good assassin, do ye?"

With an annoyed growl, Norrington slashed his blade at Sparrow's face to alert him that he was done talking. His opponent skillfully blocked, briefly casting a nervous glance over at the men from the Flying Dutchman as they struggled to get up. The former Commodore broke out into a rapid fury of attacks, the pirate parrying and blocking them the best that he could. One well-placed slash from the former skimmed the skin of the other man's chest, catching on the stained fabric of his ruined shirt and tearing it even more. It all but hung on his arms now.

Sparrow backed away a little, using his sword to tear the garment completely from his body so that it would not hinder his movements. James's eyes widened slightly at the many scars scattered across the man's torso, though he knew he shouldn't have been surprised. His opponent used the opportunity to shove him to the sand, whipping around just in time to face the members of the immortal crew as they attacked once more.

Norrington retrieved his weapon and scrambled to his feet, spitting grains of sand from his mouth as he did. He leapt at Sparrow, though the pirate noticed and caught his wrist, for his sword was holding back one of the cursed men's on the other side of him.

"Can't ye try to kill me later?" The pirate captain asked hopefully, clearly more than a little unnerved about fighting on two sides.

"You wish, Sparrow." He hissed through gritted teeth, redoubling the strength he put into forcing his sword closer to the other man's face.

As a gunshot rang out from across the beach, Sparrow toppled back with a yelp, pulling James down with him. As he jerked his wrist from the pirate's grasp, he almost froze at the new wound in the man's chest, not far from his right shoulder. Blood gushed from it at a rather concerning rate.

Sparrow's face was twisted in agony, though he struggled to get back up anyway. He clumsily slashed his sword at the former Commodore, who pulled away just in time for the weapon to merely graze his cheek, a thin line of blood trickling from the small cut. The pirate snatched James's sword as well as he finally rose up. His foot swung out, connecting with the former Commodore's chest just as he was getting up.

Norrington let out an audible wheeze as the air left his lungs and he collapsed onto his back, winded. He looked up a few moments later, as he saw a blade stab into the sand beside his hand. He met Sparrow's gaze as the pirate backed away from him and whipped around to face the real threat.

In that one gesture, James found that his desire for vengeance faded away.

Jack Sparrow had just spared his life, despite the attempts at killing him.

That had to say something.

Perhaps, Norrington thought as he climbed to his feet and pulled his sword from the sand to rejoin the fight, Sparrow isn't that bad after all.

His heart nearly stopped as the pirate cried out yet again. James's gaze landed on him, just in time to watch a sword withdraw from the stretch of skin just below the ribs on the left side of his torso. The man slid to his knees, grunting as he was violently kicked to lay flat out on his back. The crimson color of blood glistened brightly under the sun.

"Ye better run, mate." Sparrow croaked, chest heaving.

And then, James knew whose side he was on.