Title: Swimming Above The Sharks

Disclaimer: I'm only borrowing these two characters. Technically, they're Disney's property… which sucks. But because they're sub-canon characters, Disney wont notice if I steal them for a while…Mwa ha ha ha…!

Summary: Mallot and Grapple discover themselves stranded, accidentally marooned, and with a hell of a lot of gold. That and Mallot intelligently points out they're not cursed any more.

Notes: Arr! YES, they're related! I figured, hey, what the Hell? It'd only add to the story's /complexities/, eh? Hehe…yeah right…

Chapter Three: Family and Food

The glow of moonlight glinting off of treasure was up ahead, and the ledge ended four feet away from the damp slide of rock that lead to the passage the two pirates needed to take. The two waded into the cold water, already wet and not drying due to the odd climate the island seemed to have taken as it's own. Had they been anywhere else in the Caribbean, surely they would have been warm and happier. Alas, it wasn't to be for the unfortunate pirates.

Slipping as he walked onto the slick ramp-like rock, Mallot nearly fell back into the water, yet with a stroke of luck, gained his balance while keeping a straight back. Pausing to sigh with relief, he chuckled to himself before asking Grapple, "Remember 'ow mother always told me to stop dragging my feet? I think she was right."

"She also told you to not act so bloody stupid," Grapple growled. Mallot paused, then smirked.
"Naw! That was you whom she told!" Jonathan laughed lightly before scrambling up the slide and past Grapple, who reached out to swat the other pirate, yet missed.

Indeed, 'mother' was their mother. Not only were they shipmates, close friends, and looked slightly similar, they were brothers. Both from a very well off family, at that. Yet why would they resort to piracy, when they had money and a good life, one would ask? Simple. A dysfunctional family could easily drive a child off, especially if the father of the household was determined to 'save the family's fortune', and insanity helped the vision.

Two minutes later, they had walked through the threshold from the passage to the bright, gleaming cave. Moonlight streamed upon the precious metals the pirates had collected, and bounced off of them, causing more illumination within the confines of the rock grotto. Grapple looked around, avoiding the need to see what state the Aztec chest was in, or the glinting coins within. Mallot, however, did not.

The younger of the two brothers set his gaze upon the mound of treasure, which had been the stage of which the chest sat atop of for many years. He suddenly let out a strangled sound, and stumbled forward, slipping on the damp rock floor before wading furiously through the knee-deep water that pooled upon the cave floor. Grapple looked to where his brother was, and made a similar sound of surprise.

Barbossa was lying still at the bottom of the mound, his body pulled up neatly upon the treasure as though he had fallen there. An apple floated in the water near his feet, it's green skin shinning faintly in the light. Mallet fled to kneel by the motionless man's side, and looked down into the captain's face. His once sickly yet glinting blue eyes were clouded by lifelessness and forever starring up at the cave ceiling. Blood was visible, staining his white shirt, his jacket pulled to the side as though preparing for someone to look at the horrible bullet hole the shot had torn through him.


"Captain Hector Barbossa is dead," Mallot murmured ceremonially, and Grapple crashed through the water to stare at the still captain's form, forever now at rest. For a moment, both pirates were silent until the elder of the brothers let out a strangled yell out disbelief. No wonder the Pearl had sailed away. No wonder The Dauntless had left the bay. All their crewmates had most likely been captured.


Both men imagined some glorious battle, non of their former companions giving up until they were overpowered or slaughtered in a grand display of swordsmanship and skill, shot in the back by a redcoat and still standing to kill a bloody navy sailor. They imagined a death or capture for each face they could put a name to. Even the slightly meeker pirates, such as Ragetti or Dog Ear. Bo'Sun had probably been hacked to pieces before he fell, and Twigg had gone down after killing a very admired navy officer…
Of course, that wasn't what had really happened, yet one's mind and imagination tended to flitter away when one was given the time and situation, such as the two boys had now. Shaking his head, Mallot passed a hand over their captain's face and closed the old man's lids before standing back up and looking back up at the chest of cursed medallions.

"Think we should take one? Just until we figure out how to get out of here."

"No," came the quick reply and Mallot shrugged a shoulder wearily. Standing up slowly, he waded elsewhere through the water to a different patch of smooth rock. Coincidentally, it was his brother's and his mound of treasure. Built up over ten years, it loomed a good few inches taller then Mallot, even with his hat on.

"Suppose we should look for some food in the stashes, eh? I think I saw Pintel throwing something on his and Rags' stash last time," Jonathan commented lightly, glancing around him at the stashes of treasure. It was unlikely any of the pirates had stored food in their piles, due to the curse. Yet all the talk of victuals was reminding them both of the starvation they had suffered, and were still suffering from.

Sloshing through the water, and trying not to look behind him at the corpse of their once captain, Grapple made his way over to a pile of treasure that included rather anything under the sun. Parasols, dresses, silks, gold, silver, goblets, books (as he recalled, Pintel was able to read, so it somehow made sense), jewels and spices were included in the pile. Shuffling some of the riches around, he poked through the top of the pile. Removing a candlestick from its place, the end caught on a dress and dragged the clothing from its spot. However, no clinking of metal accompanied it.

Pausing, Grapple stared at the dress for a moment before extracting it from the bottom layer of the pile. Avoiding the miniature avalanche of loot that followed, he was greeted by a most welcome sight.

"What is it?" Mallot called from behind him, and a few soft splashing sounds ran about. Grapple reached in and with both hands, attempted to draw out a wooden crate. Grumbling without success, he adjusted his muscled arms and with a grunt, heaved the box out and fell backwards onto the rock floor with a loud smack, the box on top of his stomach.

"Graceful, aren't y'eh?" Mallot teased before tromping over to his brother, tossing the green apple that had been floating in the water up and down in his hand, switching the fruit from his fingerless-gloved hand to his bare palm.
Sitting upright, Trevor shot his brother a look and set the cart down beside him before rolling onto his side and crouching in front of the crate. A few scratches were carved into the nailed-down lid of the box yet a word painted in large red letters was quite legible.

FRUIT

"Well then!" Mallot exclaimed casually, standing over his brother, as though it was a very normal thing to discover in a pile of pirate loot. "Lucky, eh? Good thing ol' Pintel liked vittles."

Nodding silently, Grapple took his name-sake weapon out and looking around as though expecting somebody to leap out and clonk him over the head for stealing stolen goods, he wedged the single barb on the single griffe in the tight space between the lid and body of the crate. With a grunt, he pushed down on the handle and continued, sinew stressing visibly on his arms.


Leaping back as a crack shattered the quiet air, Mallot let out a startled noise and nearly lost his balance again. Then, cautiously, he approached the box, which had a split down the centre of its lid, which was now completely severed from the box, the nails torn out and poking hazardously out from the wood. Looking inside the box, peaches, plums, bananas, oranges and rotting tomatoes were shoved in, some of the fruit being squished, innards plastering the side of the crate, and a good majority of the food was bruised.


Not that that stopped the two ravenous pirates from immediately scooping out some and shovelling it down their throats! The feel and taste of the fruit was worth the future worry. It wasn't cake, but it was edible, and that was all that mattered to them.