Author's Note: Since I was late in updating, I'll post two chapters in one day. God, I'm so nice sometimes.

Disclaimer: Roses are red, violets are blue, me no own so you no sue.

THE VIOLINIST

Chapter Two - After the Hit

"Sir? Captain Sparrow?"

Jack slowly lifted his head from his pillow and wiped away the drool that had accumulated at the corners of his mouth. His dark hair, still as dirty and messy but now chopped into a short ponytail, caged his fierce eyes as he looked up. The man...or, I shan't say man. Baby Fischer was no older than twenty-five now, but still acted like a child when Jack would allow it. And with his innocent expression, he looked more like a teenager than anything else. He was toe-headed and had big blue eyes, and if he had not been a pirate, a person would have thought him the sweetest boy they'd met.

"What the bloody hell do you want?" Jack Sparrow growled, grinding his back molars together. Baby heard gold against gold and winced a bit.

"I'd just come to tell you, Captain," Baby said cautiously, "that we'll soon be arriving at the port you wished to stop at."

Jack spat onto the ground. "Why're you so jumpy, Baby?" he said. One might think he was trying to sound caring, but there was sarcasm dripping from every syllable. Baby swallowed.

"It's just the...no, Sir, it's nothing," Baby caught himself and bit his tongue. A whole lot of good that'll do you, Baby Fischer, he thought to himself. Tell the Captain you're scared of an old-wives tale. The Madrid being full of sirens...what nonsense.

"Then you've no right to be jumpy," Jack snarled.

Baby blinked. "Yes, Captain," he said, not once looking directly at the pirate captain. Jack snorted in distaste.

"Puppy dog, as ever," he commented with a sneer. "Fine. When will we get there, do you reckon, Baby?"

Baby jammed his hands deep into his pockets as to hide his fidgeting hands. Jack had gotten this strange habit of hating whenever anyone twitched. And Baby, having a nervous tick himself, often got the worst of Jack's anger when the problem arose.

"I said, when will we get there?" Jack asked loudly.

"About an hour, Sir," Baby answered quickly.

"Well, now, Baby," Jack cooed mockingly. "That's not near at all, is it?"

Baby looked up from his pockets, shifting from foot to foot. He blinked his big blue eyes at the captain.

"I said..."

"I heard you, Captain," Baby interrupted. In a second he wished he hadn't. Jack drew his pistol from his lap and aimed it at the former cabin-boy's head.

"Excuse me?" Jack said dangerously. "Did you just interrupt me while I was speaking, Baby Fischer? I do believe you did."

Baby looked back down and noticed that his socks were different lengths. "Yes, I did, Captain," he admitted. His shoes weren't the same make, either…

"And do you ever interrupt me?"

"No, Captain," Baby answered. He knew the Jack wouldn't shoot him for something this simple. But a nagging thought in the back of his mind reminded him of when Jack had shot the newest member of the Black Pearl, a fifteen-year-old boy named Venice, for whining of sea-sickness. Of course, Venice had recovered, but not without scars and pain, and a permanent hatred from Jack.

Jack stowed away his pistol and nodded. "There's a good lad. Now get up and help the crew, before I shoot you," he threatened casually. Baby nodded and nervously made his way out of the Captain's quarters. "Bloody blithering idiot," Jack mumbled, pushing some hair out of his eyes. Once upon a time, they had been lively and full of a passion, but if one looked into them now one would see only despair and hatred. He lacked compassion--Jack Sparrow was now a true pirate. No, he was worse than that: he was a killer.

Jack did not sleep for the next hour, but no one went to his quarters, anyway. It was at times like these, when he was in a fouler mood than usual, that the crew knew to stay away from him and do exactly what they were told without a fuss. Jack had grown cruel and uncaring, and if they questioned his judgment for a second they would surely be shot.

One such unlucky young man was Venice, the cabin boy. He was tall and lanky, only fifteen, with a mop of curly brown hair and deep, honey-colored eyes. The boy had been just five years old when Jack had raided his town and kidnapped him. Maybe it was because he had been taken to the Pearl not out of his own free will that he detested being there so. Venice was an unwilling pirate if ever there was one.

The only person who could really identify with him was Baby, who remembered clearest of all what Jack used to be like. It was because of his memories Baby did not detest being on the Pearl himself. As Baby emerged from below deck, Venice was scrubbing a handle of the ship, muttering meaningless phrases to himself. Baby patted him on the back and sat down, and Venice looked up.

"You alright, mate?" he asked curiously. Baby let out a sigh and slowly nodded.

"I suppose," he answered, pushing his blonde bangs behind his ears, one of which held a large golden hoop earring. "He's being a stubborn ass, as usual."

Venice chuckled to himself, resuming scrubbing the railing. "Well, what did you expect, Baby?" he asked, shaking his head. "You expect him to turn round and be nice all of a sudden?"

"Come off it, Venice," Baby snapped. "I've told you thousands of times the Captain wasn't always like this. He had heart once."

"Doesn't matter what he had, though, does it?" Venice said, scrubbing harder as rage started leaking into his voice. "All that matters is that he's a mangy git now, doesn't it? A scum. He ain't got no heart anymore, Baby, and that's all that matters."

"Maybe," Baby admitted. "I doubt it, but maybe."

"Oy, the two of you!" a shipmate roared. "You'd best be stopping talking badly about the Captain. Be a shame if he heard you, now wouldn't it?"

Venice ignored their warning. "He'd never hurt you, Baby," he insisted. "He likes you too much. He'd never shoot you."

"Says you," Baby said in a mocking tone. "He cares for no one. Not me, not any of the old crew...not even himself, Venice."

At these words, Venice faltered and his face fell. He yanked his gaze away from Baby and started scrubbing the rail again. It was cleaner than it had ever been, but in his raging emotions Venice hadn't thought to move.

"It's a bit tragic, isn't it?" Baby said softly after a long silence. Venice didn't look up when he answered his friend.

"What is?" he asked back.

Baby sighed and wrapped a bandana around his head, getting to his feet. He glanced over at Venice. "It's tragic that he has nothing left," he said quietly. "Doesn't even care for his own well being." He met the dark eyes of his companion. "Let us promise to never become like that, my friend," Baby proposed.

Venice nodded. "A promise, mate," he answered with a smile. "We're pirates, for God's sakes. We'll never be selfless."

Baby grinned and made his way to the helm to guide the ship the rest of the way until they reached the port of their liking. Jack had set up that the crew would raid a group of islands south of Madrid. They were in a perfect slanted line, and not extremely far apart. Baby sighed as he grasped the wheel.

"Never selfless," he reassured himself as he turned the wheel two ticks to the right. "Never selfless."

When the Black Pearl reached the port of the small island, Jack was finally awake. He didn't bother to redo his ponytail, which was a mess from sleeping on it. He plopped his trademark tri-corner hat onto his head. Jack made sure he had plenty of weapons and ammo before putting on his dusty trench coat and walking onto the deck.

At first, the light blinded him, but he quickly became used to his surroundings. It was only when he did he noticed it was nearing sunset and that the light in the sky was very little, only a bright red splash across the canvas of the heavens. He leaped up onto the rail and shot his pistol into the air. Immediately after the entire crew jumped up and did a three-sixty so that they were all facing their captain. Jack cleared his throat.

"First raid in three weeks, boys," he declared.

"Four, Captain," a foolish crewman said loudly. In an instant Jack found his chest and pulled the trigger of his pistol, shooting the corrector straight in the chest. Only those around the unfortunate man gasped--the others were used to the routine.

"Now," Jack continued. "If I can go another mere word without being interrupted, I shall continue. You know our policy, boys: eat your fill, take what women you wish, but be done with them before you come back onto the ship. Oh, and of course, take no prisoners."

"Aye aye, Captain!" the crew shouted in unison. Jack nodded.

"Reek havoc, you scalawags," he ordered without a grin. For Captain Jack Sparrow no longer had anything to grin about.

I shall not describe the events that followed, for having known what the great Jack Sparrow was once like and knowing what he had become, I have not the heart to tell the exact things that he did that night in all their gruesome reality. Just know what is needed to know: the men were killed, the women raped, and the children, like their once great attacker Jack Sparrow, were left with nothing.

Closing Notes: Bwahaha. You thought I'd killed off Jack, didn't you? I'm so tricky. Review, my ducklings, if you'll be so kind.