Disclaimer: If you recognize it from POTC, then it's not mine. Sofia belongs to herself. Don't sue me, I only have pocket lint.

Author's Note: I suck at writing battle scenes. I mean it. So if this chapter doesn't really come up to snuff, I'm sorry. That said, read on!

Chapter Six

Out of the Frying Pan…

Joseph hefted a stolen pistol in one hand, his infamous skillet in the other. He was alone, but struggled to keep up a tough façade and call up the misguided courage that had led him to bean Gibbs with a soapy frying pan. It worked relatively well, but inside he was all jelly.

The guns boomed again. Joseph jumped, every hair on his body standing at attention. He grit his teeth, determination welling up from a lode he didn't even know he had.

These are the blackguards who stole Sofia, he reminded himself sternly. Now for it, then.

He took one last edifying breath and left the galley. He charged up the swaying stairs (or maybe he was the one swaying) and burst into the open. His heart came up to his throat.

The Blackbird's guns boomed. He ducked. A ball went soaring past, tearing a sail. The Pearl roared in response. Joseph darted across deck and huddled beside Tuck.

"What's 'appenin'?"

Tuck didn't even blink at Joseph's presence. "They club-hauled. We're comin' in to board."

Joseph shuddered as a nearby gun blasted, smoke obscuring the deck for precious seconds. "What do I do?"

Tuck grinned shark-like. "Try not to get killed, is all."

Joseph groaned. "How comforting."

"Joseph, run for powder!" Gibbs bellowed. Joseph dropped his skillet and ran as fast as his limp would allow.

The Pearl's deck and gunnery alike boiled with activity. Joseph darted to and fro, hauling powder and balls and readying grappling irons. He was below-decks when it happened.

There was a crunch and a shout from above. Joseph toppled with a painful thud. Unfamiliar voices shouted. Joseph scrabbled about for something sharp. He found an empty musket instead.

"Utterly mad," he muttered. Then he took a deep breath and ran upwards.

The deck was boiling in chaos. Pirates were everywhere, screaming and cutting and swearing and shooting. Joseph saw an abandoned bayonet and dived at it.

"Ho there!"

Joseph whirled and slashed. The pirate was fittingly surprised and staggered away trying to hold his guts in. Joseph felt ill. Gutting pigs was one thing, but humans…

"Fight, ye idiot!" Crimp screamed in his ear. Joseph scrambled up and dived into the fray. His only regret in doing so was that he'd lost the bloody frying pan.

* * *

Jack grinned to himself. He so loved causing chaos.

Then he leapt from the shrouds, landing nimbly on the Blackbird's deck. He darted through the enemy, slashing almost at random but felling men all the same.

Then his sword was halted. He looked up.

"Sparrow, isn't it?" the pockmarked man said, a slow grinning uncurling on his face. Jack nodded neutrally.

"Jordan."

And they fought.

Jordan was a worthy opponent. Strong, fast, agile- and incredibly stupid.

"You've no idea what you're up against, mate," Jack grunted, parrying Jordan's thrust. Jordan grinned and swung madly.

"Oh, I think I do."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Arrogant dog, ain't ye," he said. A foot darted out and Jordan crashed to the deck. Jack's cutlass flicked twice, once to dispense of Jordan's weapon and again to hover under his chin. Jack smiled cheerfully.

"Where's the bonny lass, mate?" said Jack conversationally. "I'll find her regardless, but I might not kill you too dreadfully if you answer."

Jordan scowled and spat. Jack easily sidestepped the flying phlegm and shrugged. "Your loss, mate." He pulled Jordan to his feet and before he could escape, hit him over the head with his sword hilt. Jordan's eyes rolled back in his head and he crashed back to the deck.

It seemed the entire Blackbird crew had heard the sound, they all whirled around. None surrendered; in fact they picked up momentum. Jack gave Jordan's unconscious form a solid kick in the ribs and launched himself back into the madness.

* * *

Joseph leapt.

He came up slightly short and dangled off the Blackbird's railing. He scrambled up onto deck, ignoring his knee's loud protests. He was bloody well going to save Sofia or die in the attempt.

His stomach curdled at the thought, but he ignored it.

A pudgy sailor saw him and lunged with a hoarse scream. Joseph ducked. The surprised sailor slammed into the rail. Joseph gave him an well-aimed kick and the sailor went over with a shout and a splash.

Joseph's eyes darted over the deck. About three crusty-looking men had Ana Maria cornered, while Crimp, Tuck, Ashley, and Duncan were distracted. Joseph hefted his bloody bayonet and retrieved frying pan and started running.

"Hey, what-" Joseph hit the speaker with the pan as hard as he could. The man went down hard, and Joseph dropped the pan. He shook out his hand, swearing.

"Joseph, ye daft bugger!" Ana Maria shoved Joseph away and swung at another sailor. "Get back to the ship!"

"Get stuffed, wench!" Joseph retorted, and slashed a random enemy's guts open. Ana Maria dispatched the last and shoved Joseph.

"Get out of here! You're liable to get yourself killed!" Ana Maria ran to the companionway. Joseph followed, but didn't make it. A bullet grazed across his skull and he went down hard.

No one noticed.

* * *

Jack vaulted over a cannon, bashed the gunner over the head, and ran to the companionway with both murder and rescue on his mind. He was going to find Sofia, and then he was going to bloody kill her. Stupid woman.

He descended into darkness, working his way down to where the brig ought to be. He thought he saw Ana Maria in one of the cabins, but paid her no mind.

The brig was a smelly, dank place. The sounds of battle were only slightly muffled, and he could still hear shouts and screams the thunder of guns.

One of the cells had a prisoner inside. It was Sofia, but she was battered almost beyond recognition. A twinge of guilt tugged at Jack's chest. He ignored it and drew his pistol. A single shot destroyed the lock and he slammed the door open, darting in and sitting Sofia up.

"Best be alive, lass," Jack muttered. He felt for breath, holding his hand before Sofia's nose. She was breathing, but with a sporadic, wheezing quality. Jack cursed softly and stood, then picked up Sofia, carrying her fireman style. He ran back up through the decks, hoping to high heaven that the Blackbird's crew wouldn't shoot Sofia out-of-hand.

* * *

Kramer was not happy.

Five pirates surrounded him, each of them grinning wolfishly and clutching bloody weapons. Kramer smiled nervously.

"Parlay?"

A raucous laugh was his only reply. Kramer slumped. He tossed his weapon to the deck with a clatter. The bearded pirate nodded in a satisfied way.

"Good. Moses, bind him. Glad ye've seen reason," Gibbs added to the surrendering pirate. Kramer snorted derisively but allowed himself to be bound.

The other Blackbirds faltered. Kramer was first mate, what did his surrender signify now that Jordan was down?

"Throw down yer weapons, men!" Kramer hollered. "Will my men be granted quarter?"

"That's up to the Cap'n," was his only reply.

Kramer was not happy at all.

* * *

Jack cautiously poked his head out of the companionway. Then he grinned. He emerged with a swagger, despite Sofia's dead weight over his shoulder.

"Round up our wounded, men," Jack bellowed. "The battle is ours!"

A shout rose up from those so inclined. The others were either scowling or unconscious. Jack swaggered across the deck with his prize, and returned to his own ship triumphantly. Finn, the ship's doctor, rushed past to find the Pearl's wounded aboard the Blackbird.

The silence, after all the madness of the short battle, was nearly deafening. Jack felt for a moment as if he'd lost his hearing, the lack of sound was so profound. The soft sounds of wounded men's whimpers and the sea splashing against the hulls of the two ships echoed in his head.

Then he dismissed the unsettling feeling and descended into the Pearl's bowels.