Five - Reunion

As always, Newgate prison reeked of unwashed bodies and every kind of human suffering. James Norrington held a handkerchief to his nose as he followed the guard down the dank corridor. He felt the chill deep in his bones, and he shivered. The passing of time had begun to lay its hand upon him. His hair was touched with silver at his temples, and there were fine lines across his brow and at the corners of his eyes.

At last, the guard halted at one of the heavy doors that lined the hallway. He swung the iron grate outward and gestured for James to enter.

"You have my thanks," James said to the guard. "Now, if you would leave us for a moment..."

"Sir," the guard said. He tipped his hat before backing out of the cell, shutting the door behind him.

The prisoner sat in the shadows against the back wall with one leg bent against his chest and the other extended in front of him. His hat was pulled down low over his eyes, and he appeared to be asleep. James almost smiled. Some things, it would seem, never changed.

"Hello, Jack," James said softly.

Jack Sparrow raised his head, and a sardonic, crooked grin spread across his face.

"Well, well, Commodore Norrington. What might you be doing here?"

"Actually, I'm an admiral now," James corrected him.

"So I'd heard," Jack said. "But that doesn't answer the question, does it?"

"I got word of your capture, and of your conviction, and I thought I might be of some use," James said. He shifted uneasily. Jack was still sprawled on the floor, and James did not like feeling as if he were looming sternly above him. He wished that he could at least sit down, but there was nothing in the cell but a dirty pallet in the corner.

Jack, seemingly sensing James' discomfort, got to his feet and stepped into the dim light. James kept his face carefully blank. The fifteen years that had passed since their parting had not been kind to Captain Jack Sparrow. To begin with, he was terribly thin, and the ragged shirt that hung loosely off of him made him look like a scarecrow. Though his eyes were still young, time and the sun had etched deep lines into his face. His hair was shot through with gray, and when he put a hand on the wall to steady himself, James saw that the little finger on his left hand was missing.

"Not here to visit an old friend, then?" Jack asked.

"I had not thought that you still called yourself my friend," he said.

There was no bitterness in James' words, but Jack scowled at the mention of the breach between them. He swaggered over to James and put a falsely companionable hand on his shoulder.

"So tell me, Admiral," Jack said, "how's your wife?"

Even after so many years, there was enough edge in Jack's voice to cut.

James lowered his eyes. "She died three years ago this winter," he said. When he looked up again, his face was hard and dangerous. "I'll not have you speak ill of her, Jack. She was a fine woman."

"Sorry to hear that," Jack said, sounding as if he almost meant it. "Do you have children?" It was an honest question this time.

"First, there was a daughter, but we lost her to a fever when she was three," James said. "My son… his name was Peter… he died this past March. He was ten."

Jack knew James well enough to see how much it pained him to speak of the ones he had lost. Suddenly, the things that had driven them apart seemed very foolish and unimportant, and Jack was sorry that he had spoken sharply.

"If you'd met him, I think you would have liked him," James continued. "He was… a sweet, clever little boy."

"Wish I could have," Jack said.

James nodded.

"And you?" he asked at last. "I was surprised when I heard they'd gotten you all the way to England. I'd have thought the Pearl and her crew would have rescued you long before you reached London."

It was Jack's turn to look pained. "You haven't heard, then." Much of the life seemed to go out of him. "The Pearl's gone, James. The sea claimed her in the end. So you see, you're not the only one who's lost much."

James took the news with a bowed head.

"I never said I was," he said after a while. "I'm sorry about the Pearl. She was a good ship, and I would have liked to walk her decks again."

James respectfully removed his hat and both of them were quiet for a moment in remembrance of Jack's fine lady. The air was heavy with the weight of all that had passed between them, but neither could bring himself to speak of it.

"You didn't come here so we could trade sad stories, did you," Jack said at last. "Though I don't know what help you think you could possibly be to me."

James pulled a folded piece of paper with an official seal out of his coat pocket.

"This is for you," he said, and handed it to Jack.

Jack broke the seal, took one look at what was written there, and raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"This is a royal pardon," he said to James as if the fact had somehow escaped him.

"Yes," James said.

"You did this." Jack said. It was not a question.

Again, James nodded. "I did."

"But… why?" Jack was genuinely confused.

"Because I would not see you rot in prison," James said, a bit of heat seeping into his voice. "Or see you swing at the Tyburn gallows."

"So I'm free to go?" Jack asked, desperately hopeful at the thought of freedom.

"You are," James said. "You will be escorted out and given a small purse and a few necessaries."

"Provided by you?"

"It's certainly not the government's usual practice to give gifts to prisoners upon their release," James answered. He turned and knocked loudly on the door. The guard came shuffling down the corridor and hastily unlocked the cell. Jack still stood in the middle of the room, holding the pardon in both hands.

James looked over his shoulder at him. "Best of luck to you," he said, and was gone before Jack could even murmur a word of thanks.

The first thing Jack Sparrow saw when the prison doors slammed shut behind him was a lone carriage waiting at the side of the street. A footman opened the door as he approached, and he could just make out a familiar form sitting inside.

"Where will you go?" James asked, his voice cool and neutral.

"Wherever the fates decide to toss me now, I suppose," Jack said. He affected a nonchalant, devil-may-care pose that belied his weariness.

James sighed. "You don't have anywhere to go, do you?"

"Not precisely. Let's just say the exact details haven't been worked out yet," Jack said.

James leaned forward in his seat and waited for several moments. When Jack didn't move, he said, "Well? Are you coming? I'd rather not sit here all day in the cold with the door open." Though he sounded exasperated, Jack could see a hint of amusement in James' eyes.

For the second time in an hour, Jack wondered if James had lost his mind.

"Where are we going?" Jack asked cautiously.

He sidled up to the carriage and peered at James, trying to guess what the Admiral was playing at.

James offered Jack a hand to help him up.

"Home, of course," James said.