Disclaimer: I don't own it.

Confused and filthy, Jack Sparrow woke to the sounds of the shrieking gulls that flocked around his head. "Blasted birds." he heard someone mumble several meters to his right.

Swallowing to rid the bad taste in his mouth, Jack rose from what appeared to be a road and struggled to remember his bearings. This wasn't easy, as he had no bloody idea of anything that had occurred in the last night.

"What did I do?" he muttered to himself, trying hard to remember. "We were in a bar, celebrating. I had some rum, told a few stories, and then had more rum."

The streets before him swam together into indistinguishable bits of colour as his hangover hit him full force. "Bloody hell!" he exclaimed, cringing in pain over the agony in his head.

It was all coming back now. As the pain gradually subsided, he could remember what had happened. He had drunk much more than usual, come outside, walked a bit, and then passed out in the streets. Not bad for a weekday. He'd done less in a day.

Rubbing his eyes, Jack stood up unsteadily and looked around.

As suspected, the rest of the crew had seemed to have done the same as he had, and passed out. Drool was seeping out of Gibbs' mouth unattractively.

Jack spun around several times, only to fall over with dizziness. "Bleedin' ground won't stay still." he grumbled.

Eventually he figured out where he was.

Jack and his fearsome crew were lying directly on the dock.

The sun was just beginning to raise, its yellow beams striking the multicoloured sky.

There were only two ships that had been anchored and tied, one called the Crimson Sunrise, and the other Twilight.

With a surprising realization, Jack noticed what was missing from this picture. An all too familiar picture…

"Where's the Pearl?"

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"Land!" yelled Ava, pointing North-West at a medium-sized island. It was several leagues away, but she could make out the colourful houses that dotted the island's coast through the salt-spotted telescope.

With a calculated leap, Ava jumped from the crow's nest and clung to a rope, swinging onto the deck.

Captain Milo patted her on the shoulder warmly as the rest of the crew scuttled around, preparing to drop anchor.

"Port Dominique?" asked Ava quietly. Milo nodded.

The young woman went below deck, to the sleeping quarters of the crew.

"Port Dominique." repeated Captain Milo, surveying his crew as they ran every which way, yelling incoherently at each other.

Chaos.

Just the way he liked it.

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Below deck, Ava observed the sleeping young woman before her proudly. The teen's brown eyes fluttered open as Ava touched her cheek. She smiled weakly, and then leaned over to throw up into a small bucket beside her secluded bed.

Ava winced at the sound of her vomiting. "Any better, Marie?"

Marie nodded, wiping her mouth with her dress sleeve, brushing her dark brown hair out of her face.

"Is it my birthday yet?" Ava smiled.

"Not quite. One more week." she answered.

"Oh, God." groaned Marie, lying back down. "I hope I'm not still seasick by then."

"That makes 20 of us then." commented Ava. Marie wrinkled her eyebrows.

"20? Don't you mean two?" Ava shook her head and handed her a bruised green apple. "Me, you, the crew and the captain."

Marie snorted. "They just want me to be able to scrub the decks again."

"Don't be silly." frowned Ava, punching Marie on the shoulder playfully. "Now rest up. I want you better by morning, aye?"

Marie nodded weakly. One week until her birthday. She was turning seventeen.

Although she was currently sixteen, Marie looked hardly older than 13. She took after her father, mostly, with her fairt skin and dark hair and eyes.

Marie knew the basics of sailing, but she'd never really gotten the hang of it. Usually she cleaned and cooked, or studied with Ava.

She'd only been on the ship for a month, and she'd been fine for the first week or so. And then the seasickness had hit. It had started with strong weakness, and then her face had paled considerably. At first Shanks had thought she was catching scurvy, but once she'd started vomiting, they were relieved to find that it was only severe seasickness.

While the thoughts of her seasickness were hard to ignore, she was more focused on her upcoming birthday. Her father had promised that once The Estrangement had reached Britain, she and her mother would come live with him. If, that is, if her mother agreed.

It was a comforting thought, and she didn't doubt her father's promise.

He'd never broken one before.

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Jack yelled in frustration and anger. Once again he'd lost his beloved ship. And it was all thanks to his bloody rum.

"You cause me a bloody lot of grief." he muttered to his fresh bottle.

After he learned of the departure of his ship, Jack, who was no stranger to this situation, had gone to the nearest tavern and bought several bottles of rum. Then, he'd retired to an abandoned stoop and began to drink.

His crew, not wanting to disturb him, had left for a tavern inland, and left Jack alone to contemplate what to do next.

"We'll have to get a ship." said Jack to himself aloud, already planning his search.

"We can't buy one, not enough money. There are no real ships to commandeer."

There were only two ships docked at Port Dominique, but they were useless, rich people ships. They were meant mostly for pleasure cruises, and not for long journeys, and not for fighting, as there were no cannons aboard.

"I'll find work aboard a ship." he decided gradually, balking at the thought.

That would require a ship to be leaving this godforsaken island.

While Port Dominique was a beautiful island, it was a sleepy town, and no one ever really left.

"Ho, there." said a deep voice, breaking the Captain's thoughtful silence.

"What do you want?" Jack snapped. He wasn't in the mood for a conversation.

"You're Captain Jack Sparrow?" Jack turned towards the voice, wanting to get a better look at the person who was questioning him.

It was a young man, no older than 25. He had blonde hair that reflected the sun. His eyes were a watery blue and he had tanned skin, but a gaunt face.

"I want to travel with you." Jack laughed mockingly.

"Do you know anything about sailing?" The man shrugged. "Enough. I learn very quickly."

His voice had acquired a pleading tone, and he looked as if he were about to cry.

"Please let me travel with you."

At the moment Jack couldn't care less about the boy. All he needed at the moment was his rum and a plan.

"Fine." he consented distractedly. "But if you do something wrong, be it on your own head."

The man's gaunt face broke into an appreciative smile, exposing his bleach-white teeth.

"I'm Daniel Ezra." he declared, extending his hand in a friendly fashion.

Jack looked hard a long at the youth.

"Welcome aboard." he said finally, ignoring the hand. He picked up two new bottles and clinked them together in toast. Then he handed one to Daniel and took an especially long swig from his own.

"Welcome aboard."

A/N: Okay!