Disclaimer: POTC belongs to Disney and Jerry Bruckheimer.

A/N: I wrote this story eons ago as an extra story behind another fanfic I've done. I created a character called 'Squirrel' in my own POTC fanfics. Come on, admit it - we all want Jack to ourselves. Well, everyone but Norrington and Will Turner fans, that is. Oh, alright, and if you prefer the other pirates, I'm willing to let you have them. (But Ragetti's, mine, ye scurvy dogs! MINE!) Anyway, after writing two incredibly long fanfics about Squirrel and Jack, I wrote this short piece after I found out about the destruction of Port Royal in 1692. I got my info from the internet. Marvellous piece of equipment, that. I wrote this after I got my POTC DVD. So that would be… sometime 2003, I guess.

Backstory: The whole story is fluff-action, and where I discovered my inability to write fluff without someone having to die or be maimed. Squirrel lives in Tortuga, falls in love with Jack (as you do). Jack saves her from her evil family and takes her on a cruise. She meets Will and Liz and go to their wedding. At the wedding, Squirrel is asked by Norrington for a dance - however, Jack has to escape from Port Royal (again) so Squirrel helps him out. Despite pirates out to kill Jack, a cousin out to kill Squirrel, a plague of amnesia, and Elizabeth determined to talk non-stop, it all turns out hunky-dory in the end. Jack marries Squirrel. Anamaria is killed in a fight (sobs and sniffles! (women pirates kick ASS!)) after the birth of Jack's son, but still hangs around on the Pearl helping people out when she feels like it. (And really, how can you not call Jack's son 'Johnny'? Really.)

One final note: I wasn't going to put any of my 'Squirrel stories' online, ever. But considering the recent devastation of the tsunami hitting places close to where I am now living, I thought I would put this story online in the memory of those who lost their lives in this tragedy, and to the families of the tsunami victims. Given the fact that I'm right next door to Indonesia - and the fact that I know how it feels to lose peopleyou know and love - I know exactly how you feel. God rest those who died, and may He keep those safe who survived…

Jack took a deep breath of the salt air and grinned his trademark grin. "Just think, in a few hours, we'll be swingin' into Port Royal and seeing the Turners!"

Squirrel smiled gently, and took Jack's hand in her own. She looked out over the sea. It was almost noon, and the sun was turning the sea to gold. The air was thick and tropical. Typical Caribbean weather. "I wonder if they've had any children of their own yet."

Jack chuckled. "Aye, a handful of Williams and Elizabeths… There's a scary thought!"

A whinging cry came from behind closed doors, and Jack's grin faded into concern. Squirrel raised an eyebrow as the pirate captain dashed into his quarters.

"On the other hand," she mused as she followed slowly behind Jack, "What would Will and Elizabeth think about our own child?" She shook her head, smiling. "Johnny's every bit of his father."

"But the temper tantrums he gets from you!" Captain Sparrow growled as Squirrel entered the room. "And he climbs like a bloody monkey!" Johnny was sitting on top of a curtain rail, and Jack was standing on a chair, trying to bring him down. "Commere, you little sprog! I'll tan your hide, I will!" The two-year old cried out, in resentment this time, and clung tighter to the rail.

Squirrel sighed. "Come down, Johnny. We've almost reached Port Royal."

The child's face lit up with delight. "Yay! Unca Will! Auntie Liz!" Johnny let go of the curtain rail and fell… only to be caught by Jack. The pirate rolled his eyes in his wife's direction, then glared at his son. The boy stuck out his tongue and wriggled out of his father's grasp.

"Catch me!" He giggled, as he ran out of the room. Jack turned to his young wife, beseechingly. Squirrel sat down, and held up a hand.

"No, Jack. Don't get me involved."

Jack sat down next to her. "Wasn't going to say a word, luv." He grinned, and placed a hand on her stomach. "I never thought kids would be this much trouble." He grinned. "Or that they'd be this interesting."

Squirrel sighed contentedly. "Neither did I."

Jack looked into Squirrel's eyes. "Have I told you how much I love you today?" He stroked the side of her face gently.

Before either of them could say another word, the ship suddenly tilted violently to one side. Squirrel clung to her chair, crying out in alarm, and Jack leapt to his feet to steady them both. The green apples in the bowl fell, bouncing along the floor, and furniture crashed and slid sideways. Again and again, the ship rocked, pushed by some unseen force.

"What the hell was that?" Jack said, as soon as the ship had levelled out and was still. Then, "Johnny!"

Gibbs came into the room, the boy crying in his arms. "I think you'd better come out here, Captain." He passed Squirrel her son. The old sailor's eyes were intense.

As Gibbs and Jack hurried up on deck, Squirrel tried to soothe her scared son. "It's alright, baby. Mummy's here. Shh. It's ok. Quiet now, baby. Hush now, its ok."

Johnny put his thumb into his mouth and murmured fearfully.

---

"Only one more day, luv." Jack said as he sauntered back into the cabin. "One more day and Port Royal'll be in sight."

Squirrel would not be appeased. "What was that, Jack? What did we hit?"

Jack shrugged and grinned. "Probably some kind of wave, love. Or something. Still, whatever it was, it's gone now. Nothing to worry about. Aye?"

Squirrel smiled. "Aye." But something deep inside her continued to feel uneasy.

---

Sometime during the afternoon the alarm sounded, and the crew of the Black Pearl hurried for their weapons.

"Stay down, luv." Jack hissed, as she came out on deck. "We don't want you hit!"

Her eyes were glued on the ships that dotted the horizon. The British colours flew high on every flag. "Looks like they've finally caught up with you, Jack."

"An' barely an hour 'til Port Royal, too!" He joked, then became serious. "Stay low." Jack warned her. "And don't let anyone recognise you." Squirrel ducked behind the mast, her current condition preventing her from leaping up into the rigging.

The largest of the naval ships were pulling up alongside. Jack shouted his orders, and the crew readied their weapons.

"Hold fire! Truce!" A voice yelled across the water. "Truce!"

Squirrel looked out from around the side of the mast. Jack stepped forward, and the crew lowered their weapons, warily.

"There's no 'truce' with a pirate, mate!" Jack shouted, laughing. "You'll have to do better than that!"

"Then I believe the term is 'parley', Mister Sparrow." A different voice called back. The whole crew, especially Jack and Squirrel, stiffened with surprise as the second speaker came forward. Commodore James Norrington.

"Commodore!" Jack laughed uneasily. "Long time no see! How's your life at the garrison going, sir?"

The Dauntless pulled closer to the Black Pearl, and Norrington came to the railings. "Mister Sparrow, I have a request to make of you."

"Really?" Jack raised an eyebrow. "And what's my reward for this task, Commodore?"

The British soldier ignored the taunt. "At any other time, Jack Sparrow, I would rather see you hang." Squirrel frowned. "However," Norrington continued, "until your duty has been completed, you are under the protection of the Crown."

Jack blinked, then laughed. "I don't need the Crown's protection, thankye kindly, Commodore."

Norrington shook his head. "Please, Mister Sparrow." The man's voice almost cracked… with grief.

Jack hesitated, then turned and headed towards the mast. "Go below, love." He whispered to Squirrel. "Give me a minute t' sort this out."

But as Squirrel slunk out of sight, down to the galley, she caught a short snatch of speech from Norrington. And it sent shivers down her spine.

---

"Take care, Jack." Squirrel held his hand. Jack paused, and kissed her goodbye, before climbing over the side into the lifeboat. Gibbs, Cotton and Marty were already waiting.

"Be safe." She whispered as she watched him heading towards Port Royal. But there was no time to stare out to sea in worry. There were people here who needed help. With Jack gone, the crew looked to her for commands. So Squirrel gave them. Rope! Bandages! Salves! Splints! Hurry! Norrington had said little to the crew, speaking mostly with Jack. And Squirrel had been below, trying to forget the three words she had heard Norrington say.

Save the survivors.

Just what had happened to Port Royal? Did it have anything to do with the blast that hit the ship earlier?

Squirrel bit her lip as she watched the crew, her family, run across the decks, preparing stretchers and emergency medial supplies. She looked out towards the other Navy ships, moored in the open water. She could see the Dauntless. A boat was coming towards the Black Pearl. The Commodore was in it. As well as a handful of dazed and wounded civilians.

"Help them aboard." Squirrel ordered, and ropes were thrown down.

The wounded were brought aboard first. A man with his arm sliced open staggered across the deck and sat down, trying to hold his limb together.

There will be time to question James later, she thought. This man needs help.

The man looked at her suspiciously as she came up to him with a needle and thread and a handful of bandages. "Wot you doin', wench?"

"Helping you." She said stiffly. "You'll die if that isn't stitched up." She passed him a length of rope. "Bite onto this. It could hurt." The man obediently put the rope in his mouth and watched fearfully as Squirrel threaded the needle. "Ready?"

The man nodded, and closed his eyes. Squirrel's hands flew. A moment later the man opened his eyes and looked down at his arm. "That didn't hurt at all!"

Squirrel raised and eyebrow, and pushed the rope back into the man's mouth. And pulled on the thread. The man screamed as the string bit into his skin, pulling the flesh closed. With quick hands, Squirrel tied off the stitches, then bandaged the man's arm quickly.

"There." She said, rising slowly to her feet. "Now, you'll live." The man glowered thankfully. Squirrel smiled at him, then turned to supervise the rest of her crew.

Broken limbs were being splinted, injuries stitched and bandaged, kind words were whispered to those in shock. And Commodore Norrington was watching her like he'd never seen her before. She weaved her way through the wounded and the pirate 'nurses' until she reached him.

"Commodore Norrington." She smiled, and curtsied awkwardly. "Long time no see."

For a moment, the military man seemed at a loss. His eyes flickered down to her stomach, then to her face again. "Rose?"

Squirrel shook her head. "I took that name last time I was here." She smiled shyly. "I can't remember my real name. I answer to Squirrel, though."

The Commodore blinked, and tried to smile. "So you… You weren't kidnapped by Jack… were you?"

Squirrel laughed. "I was, in the beginning. And I'm glad he did." Her smile faded, and looked out at Port Royal. "Otherwise I'd be dead."

Was it her imagination, or was half of the city gone? The tide must be higher than usual. That's all. It had to be. Just the angle from where she was standing, must be hiding the rest of the town.

"And are you… That…"

Squirrel looked back at the Commodore, and gently rested a hand on her stomach. "Yes. This is Jack's child." She held up a hand, showing him her ring. "We are married, you know. I insisted on that much."

Norrington nodded - sadly it seemed - and straightened his posture. "So you are married to a pirate?"

Squirrel smiled. "I am a pirate myself, Commodore." She looked down, and stroked her stomach. "And for better or for worse, so are our children."

"Children?"

Before she could reply, a small voice cried out across the Pearl's deck. "Mummy! Mummy!"

Squirrel turned. "Johnny! What are you doing out here?"

The child ran to his mother and clung to her legs. "Where's daddy?" He whimpered. "Where's daddy?"

Squirrel patted her child on the head. "He's at Port Royal, Johnny." She caught Norrington's eyes, and saw his surprised and somewhat saddened expression. He forced a smile for her.

"Unca Will?" Johnny asked. "Liz'beth?"

Norrington suddenly had to look away. Squirrel tried to console her son. "Yes, Daddy's gone to look for Will and Liz. Don't worry, he'll find them soon." She smiled at her son. "Go back to bed, Johnny. Daddy will be back soon, ok?"

"Ok!" The trusting two-year-old sauntered back to the cabin, already swaying in a way that was so much like his father. Squirrel felt a lump in her throat, but didn't quite know why.

"Miss Grey…" The Commodore started, his voice weary with grief, "Or is it Mrs Sparrow?"

"Either." She said, leaning on the railing, trying to balance out the heaviness of her unborn child. "Squirrel is best, though."

Norrington smiled sadly again, then continued. "Do you know what happened here?"

Squirrel shook her head. "A few hours ago, the Pearl was hit by something. Jack said it was a wave."

Norrington's lips formed a grim line. "A set of waves, actually. Caused by an earthquake."

Squirrel's eyes widened, and her heart started fluttering like a bird in a cage, but she said nothing.

"But I'm really not the expert on this." Norrington said, bowing his head. "You'd better ask him." He pointed to a man sitting on the crate near the mast. He was shaking, but looked better off than most of those who had been brought aboard.

"Reverend Emmanuel Heath. An Anglican priest." Norrington sighed, and looked out to sea again. "You'd better ask him what happened."

Squirrel nodded, and turned to go speak to the man. But she paused, and came back. "Commodore?" She asked timidly. "You're not… angry with me, are you?"

Norrington turned back. The sad smile seemed to be a permanent fixture on his face, even if it was forced. "No, Miss Grey, not at all. But I had hoped… back at the wedding…"

Squirrel nodded. "I know. I promised you a dance. I'm sorry." She looked up, and found herself staring into his eyes. And she was struck by what she saw in them.

Norrington shook himself and turned away. "It cannot be helped." He said calmly. "What's done is… is done."

Squirrel turned away, not trusting herself to speak. Fear and grief were already pouring over her, and she didn't even know why.

Reverend Emmanuel was leaning against the mast, staring at his hands. When Squirrel approached, the man looked up.

"You're well on the way, lass." He commented. "How much longer til the baby's due?"

Squirrel felt herself blushing again. "A month, maybe less." She said, then sat down beside the priest. "Sir, what happened? What happened to Port Royal?"

The man shook his head. He was still as white as a sheet. "A sign from God. A punishment on Port Royal, the wickedest city in the world."

Squirrel frowned. "Wickedest city? But when I was here…"

Reverend Heath shook his head. "It was a good town before, lass. But it slid into depravity and sin."

"What happened?" Squirrel asked, knowing already what the man was going to say. "What happened to Port Royal?"

---

Jack found it hard to keep his eyes open. Of all the places in the world, he'd never seen a place so fallen into social degradation. Even the 'sweet proliferous bouquet' of Tortuga was never this bad. But Jack kept looking. He was looking for a familiar landmark, a place he knew, a street he could recognise. But it was all below him.

The blacksmith's shop and the governor's house… both miles below the surface, resting in Davy Jones' Locker.

---

The graveyard had been uprooted, and corpses and skeletons lay scattered over the ground, some even thrown into the town. Or, whatever part of the town still remained. Ships were tossed up onto land like child's toys, buildings were collapsed, or tilting so dangerously sideways they were threatening to collapse at any moment, and people lay dead in the streets.

There were cracks in the ground where the earth had split, swallowing people, then closing so suddenly that only the victims' heads remained above the surface. Their eyes were glazed, their fearful and unbelieving expressions frozen on their faces by death. Others lay dead in the street from falling debris, others burned by torches or lanterns or whatever had caught fire in the quake… and other corpses bore the mark of violence. A gunshot wound here, several stab wounds on that one, and this one was crushed by a fleeing horse - and all the dead had been looted, and left naked and rotting where they had fallen.

A brothel was burning, but the girls were not worried. They stood nearby, near crushed carts or crumbling houses, whoring themselves to anyone and everyone still alive. A man ran past, a table on his back and a burlap sack in his hand. Three men, drunk as newts, were supporting each other, singing a drunken song. One of the houses slipped, and rubble fell, crushing one of the men to death. But his two friends didn't even notice the man as he screamed and screamed as he was smashed to a bloody pulp… they didn't even stop singing.

There were still fights in the streets. People swore like they had always done. And men and women alike walked the streets, either whoring themselves or being an easy target for those to get what they wanted.

Half the city was gone, under the waves forever, and more than half of the population of the town was dead… yet no-one seemed to care.

---

"… And all it took was a few minutes." Reverend Heath finished. "Though some say it took fifteen. But this is surely a sign, divine retribution." The man looked out at the ruined town. "A sign for all to turn away from wicked ways, and to value people more than just money."

"How did this happen?" Squirrel said. But she already knew the answer.

" Port Royal, once a prosperous trade town, slipped into piracy." The priest shook his head. "With the new capital of Jamaica being Kingston, all the best marines were moved there to protect the governor."

Squirrel felt a leap of hope. If Governor Swann was in Kingston, then surely Elizabeth? But no. The hope died as soon as it had sprung - Elizabeth and Will had promised to remain where they were, so that Jack and Squirrel could come and visit.

"It was easy, then, for pirates to use this once-fair city as a base of operations. Course," the man stroked his bearded chin, "I had heard tell it was famous because a certain pirate made a miraculous escape here. A Captain Jack Sparrow, I believe. No doubt nothing more than a legend." He looked over. "Lass? Are you alright?"

Squirrel pulled her hood over her face. "I'm f-fine." She whispered. "Thankyou for your t-t-time." She got up, as quickly as she could, and made her way to the railings.

She looked out to sea, feeling all too keenly the grief. But she could find no tears to cry. She had cried them all, long ago, when she had first had the dream.

Jack's boat returned to the Black Pearl, and the pirate captain climbed aboard, the swagger missing from his step. Norrington came over, looking to Jack. But the pirate shook his head, and kept his eyes down.

"Miss Grey?" Gibbs put a hand on Squirrel's shoulder. She turned, her face dry of any tears. Gibbs sighed, and motioned towards Jack with his head. "I think ye should go talk t' him."

Squirrel nodded, and carefully treaded across the deck towards him.

---

The Black Pearl's dark sails unfurled in the breeze as the last of the wounded were off-loaded and taken to the Navy's ships. Squirrel stood at the helm, rubbing her hand over the smooth wood of the steering wheel. Jack was sitting down, resting his back against it, staring out into nothing.

"What could we have done, Jack?" Squirrel said softly. "An earthquake is not something you can control."

Jack shook his head. "First Bootstrap, now his son. And Elizabeth too."

"There was nothing we…" Squirrel's voice broke, and she sobbed. "Nothing we… could have done."

The crew moved silently about their duties, preparing to leave Port Royal. Jack stared out at the line where the sea and the sky met. The eternally straight line. The horizon.

The horizon he no longer wanted to chase.

"Daddy!"

Jack turned, and saw his son running towards him, his chubby arms wide. Jack let the boy hug him, and listened to his son's baby-talk. Squirrel slowly lowered herself down to sit next to Jack, wincing as she fought with her huge stomach. She put one arm around Jack, and one around Johnny, and pulled them both close.

"They're gone, Jack." She said, tears finally filling her eyes. "Will and Elizabeth. They… they fell." Jack sobbed into his wife's cloak.

Johnny looked from his father to his mother. They were both crying now, sobbing loudly, brokenly. With all the knowledge and authority of a child, he put his hand on his father's face.

"Pirate." He said, trying to cheer them up. "Fall be-hine, left be-hine." And then, without knowing why, Johnny started crying too.

Historical information:

- The part written in italics is what is described to have happened on the very day the earthquake happened. One man's disaster is another man's opportunity…

- A third of Port Royal's population lost their lives in this earthquake, which claimed people, buildings, and most of the island. Since Port Royal rested on a sandspit (i.e., the whole island was built on sand), the earthquake displaced water, which caused the whole island to sink underwater. Port Royal, as opposed to the Disney portrayal, was the wickedest city in the Caribbean. Think the POTC version of Tortuga, and triple it. That's how bad it was. It was so bad that the governor had to move his centre of business to Kingston, because pirates had taken over the whole island. Despite attempts by the people to rebuild the one-third of the city that remained, Port Royal was destroyed again by fire in 1704, and again by several hurricanes in the beginning of the 18th century, and finally, because people just couldn't take the hint, another earthquake hit, further liquefying the sandspit, on January 14, 1907. The Jamaican government has now developed what's left of it (and what they found underwater) as a historical and cultural site.

- Since Jack Sparrow is a fictional character, I doubt the city fell into ruin because of him. But it would most certainly be cool to go to a town where famous pirates once sailed in. Port Royal had its share of famous pirates - 'from 1660 to 1692, Port Royal therefore became a haven for rogues such as the Welshman, Henry Morgan and 'three-fingered' Jack Rackham'. (Quote taken from website)

- Reverend Emmanuel Heath was a survivor in the 1692 Port Royal earthquake, and his account is the most accurate portrayal of the disaster ever written. I used the Anglican priest's account to write this story, and borrowed his character. However, after the earthquake, Rev. Heath returned to his mansion and found everything in order, everything as he had left it. He did not get on a pirate or a naval ship at all - he stayed on the island and tried his best to save what was left of his home.

- To my knowledge, the navy didn't even bother with Port Royal. They had more important things to do…