Sorry this took so long, but RL decided to interfere and I haven't been able to write for a while because of it. University's finished for the summer now, so while I do get to write I am going to be off for the next two weeks.

Usual, don't own PotC etc...

Chapter Six: Nightmares

…the glowing brand descended, red as the raw skin it was about to create. Creation and destruction, all in one.

Hissing as the hot metal connected with unwilling flesh, but no noise did James Norrington make. Oh no. He screamed in his head though; screamed at the injustice of it all, that one Lieutenant, eager to please, did not recognise his superior for anything other than a pirate.

Had he really fallen that far? Descended so deep into the pit of what he had once despised that he could no longer be recognised? Or did he create the impression amongst his officers that any suspected pirates must be apprehended, to the point where the junior officer failed to look past the rough exterior he'd created around himself?

Richard yelped in the darkness, in pain as the cutlass bit into him again and again. James struggled to save him, but some force kept him at bay. His sister Eleanor stood by, glaring, accusing of him.

"Why don't you save him James? Too busy playing pirates to save your own brother?"

Another voice joined hers.

"I brought up no son of mine to behave in that manner. You might as well be out there killing him too." John Norrington said coldly.

Richard screamed, one final time.

James jerked awake, sweating, staring up into the dark, feeling his hammock swaying with the motion of the ship. He'd gotten used to the motion of a ship, any ship, over the course of his life to the point where he always felt it harder to sleep on the land. He'd had to try and get used to it though since his promotion to Commodore; more often than not his duties kept him on land, and besides, a Commodore couldn't sleep on a ship, not when he had a house or a cot in the fort.

His hammock swung in time to a particularly violent swell. Jack had requisitioned back his cabin when Ana-Maria had declared James fit enough to assume shipboard duties.

So here he was, once again berthing with the sailors of a ship. He'd certainly never thought that would happen again after achieving his promotion to an officer, first a Lieutenant, and then his progression through the ranks to the one he now 'held'. Not that he minded the ordinary ship work though, since his father had always taught him to take his share of the work in whatever he did.

Thoughts of his father reminded him of the nightmare he'd just had, and he quickly pushed those from his mind.

Jack had told him they were heading back to Tortuga. The best place to gather information, he said, especially concerning what James was interested in. The crew had spent upwards of a month sailing foreign waters though, so he suspected a visit to Tortuga was more than just for news. Especially for Jack.

He wasn't terribly sure why Jack was helping him. After all, he hadn't shown him much in the way of kindness on their last meeting. That had in fact been one of his first questions when Jack informed him of their destination.

"Me crew has family and friends in this part of the world, as do I. 'Sides, anythin' I can pick up too is goin' to be an asset te meself an' me ship. In this line of work, I find it's best to know what you're goin'to be up against, 'specially since whoever is behind it all seems to have no problem with who he attacks."

James though, wasn't so sure about returning to the island. After all, that was where he'd joined that ill-fated smuggling venture.

"Won't they wonder why I'm the only one who escaped?" James had asked Jack.

"Nah. Happens often enough in the smuggling trade, 'specially with a new 'un on the crew. Usually how it operates, see? Not all the gang'll have te dance the 'jig then, an' they can carry on with they're business an' the like."

"Won't they want me to go back then?" James had been worried.

"Not to worry. Ol' Jack 'ere knows 'em. I'll have a word, tell 'em you've joined me crew. They're not like to argue anyways, not with the Pearl and me crew backin' me up. Likely they'll not be too bothered – s'long as you don't tell all they're in's and out's."

"But I don't know anything!" James had protested.

"That's the spirit." Jack had replied.

The other crewmen didn't seem overly troubled at James's presence either. Jack had apparently informed the crew that he and 'Adam' were old friends, and he was nothing to worry about.

He rubbed his cheek absently, feeling the tender skin left after the removal of the stitches. He didn't doubt Ana's medical knowledge or her nursing skills, but she hadn't been particularly gentle removing the stitches.

When no-one had been around, James had stolen a look in a cracked mirror discarded in Jack's cabin. At first glance, the same face peered back at him, but then he took a second look. Yes, it was the same green eyes, but now they stared back as if containing some secret knowledge. There was the scar running across his cheek; how was he to explain that one away?

His brown hair was starting to grow out too – that was evident despite the fact that most of it was tied back. Without the opportunity to shave, the small amount of facial hair he'd grown was starting to look like he was attempting, at best something like William Turner, and at the very worst, something like Jack.

But now, as James lay in his swinging hammock, his thoughts kept straying back to the dream.

He knew there was no cause to keep torturing himself over his brother's death. After all, as Jack had pointed out, he couldn't have known his brother in the same waters, even less than being responsible for Richard's death.

And his sister. She'd taken Richard's death badly too. Badly enough to marry as soon as she could, perhaps to escape the pain of it. James was willing to bet though, that she hadn't banked on being brought out to the Caribbean with her new husband. Her husband had been a wealthy land owner in Cornwall, and she'd perhaps expected to be taken there. A quiet corner of England to bear away her grief in.

He'd almost requested a transfer when he'd found out the ship he was on was being stationed in the Caribbean. He didn't want to be responsible for another sibling's death. He'd quickly changed his mind though. He knew he wouldn't be able to live with himself if something had happened to her and he could have been there to prevent it.

Far away, James imagined he could hear Jack's voice, probably on deck yet again to see what was being done to his precious ship. Jack hadn't turned out to be such a bad person as James had imagined, a surprise really even considering that he'd managed to impress both Governor Swann and William Turner.

0000

Jack called James to his cabin later in the day after he'd served out his share in the previous watch. James snapped off a lazy and almost mocking salute to Jack on entering the cabin, and was surprised to find charts spread across the great table.

"When you're done amusing yourself mate, I could use a hand." Jack smirked.

"I imagine you have all the navigating skills you need, Captain, without my assistance."

"Then might I suggest you take a closer look?"

James stepped up to the table. There were several charts covering the main Caribbean islands each, and a larger one lying atop the rest that depicted the area as a whole quite artfully despite the yellowing of its pages. This chart had a number of quite neat X's marked on certain islands that James recognised as the places that had been attacked, specifically towns and villages. He fixed his level gaze on Jack.

"You seem to have managed this well enough without my help as well."

"Aye, but you might know a thing or two about this, and besides, if you're wanting my help you're gona have to start pitching in now and again."

James turned his eyes back to the parchment, biting back whatever comment may have otherwise escaped his lips, trying to remember to respect Jack's authority as captain. He hadn't had time to plot any of the attacks all on the same map before he left Port Royale, and moreover, he'd only received details on the ones against the Empire's interests. Jack, it seemed, had added on those against Spain and France, as well as any native villages and small ports James didn't know about and theorised to be in pirate hands.

"Where did you get all this?" he asked incredulously.

"Asked around mate. Mostly while you were out of it. 'Sides, a few of these," he indicated those belonging to the natives, "are handy for re-supplying at a pinch." He seemed to take a second look at the chart. "And I'd appreciate you forgetting about those," flicking his fingers at those James guessed, and Jack seemed to confirm to be pirate. He knew it to be a compromise, one he wasn't entirely comfortable with despite everything.

"Never saw a thing," he said finally.

He wasn't sure what it was, but staring at the map seemed to afford him a sudden sense of what might be occuring in front of him. Maybe he could put it down to the lack of evidence he'd seen up till now. Maybe Jack had been distracting him, but he'd worked through worse before and knew that was no excuse. What he did know was that he saw a pattern before him with a sudden clarity that hadn't been there before.

"Look…" he trailed off pointing. Jack fixed his gaze on the yellowed paper, eyes widening when he realised what James meant.

"They all happen within a certain area. And if you follow that, then that, is next." James spoke steadily, while the world around him seemed to fall away and Jack said what they were both thinking.

"Port Royale."