Summary: "Now, if ye're not goin' to tell me anythin' useful, like where I can get a bloody antidote, I'm takin' ye to the brig." Former Admiral James Norrington poisons Jack Sparrow. One-shot. Post AWE. AU. Inspired by Wicked R's "Substance".

A/N: This is a ONE-SHOT. That means that this is a one chapter story, and there will not be another chapter. What you're about to read is all there is. Savvy?

Old Habits

It'd been a normal day in the Caribbean. The sky clear, the sea smooth, the wind strong in the Black Pearl's sails. That was until the familiar vessel that was the Flying Dutchman burst from beneath the surface beside the ship.

"Ah, Will, good to see ye, mate." Jack Sparrow greeted the other captain after he'd gotten over his surprise.

"Go grab him." Will Turner ordered a crewman, who vanished below the deck of the Dutchman. "Good to see you too, Jack."

"What do I owe ye the favor of this visit?" Jack asked, genuinely curious.

"You remember Norrington, don't you?" Will began. "Well, he ran into my father, when he wasn't in control of himself."

"Ol' Bill kill him?"

"Er...something like that. We figured we owed him and decided to drop him off with you."

The more experienced pirate captain frowned. "Do we have to take him?"

"Jack, it wasn't his time to die; it was a mistake; it shouldn't have happened." The former blacksmith turned pirate turned ferryman of the dead pleaded. "My father and I owe it to him."

Jack sighed. "Fine."

"Don't kill him." Will ordered.

The other man scoffed. "It's me own safety I'm worried 'bout, mate."

The Dutchman's crewmember reappeared at the railing of the cursed ship, a rather well kept James Norrington standing by him with crossed arms. He scowled down at the Black Pearl, obviously no more happy to board the pirate ship than its captain was to accept him aboard.

"Put up a plank for him, Gibbs." Jack ordered his first mate.

"Aye, Cap'n." The older man consented, doing as told.

Norrington strode across it with all of the dignity he'd had in the navy. Jack snorted in distaste.

"Welcome aboard." He greeted sarcastically.

"Oh please, I'm no more happy about it than you are." The former Admiral assured him.

The Dutchman had resubmerged before the pirate crew got the chance to pull the plank back.

Three days after receiving Norrington, the Black Pearl sat still in the water, lanterns alight, as the sun's light faded below the horizon. So far, the newest crewmember had behaved, oddly showing no signs of a threat despite the captain's suspicions. But it only put him on higher alert, for he knew that he had to be missing something.

The crew had gone below deck to dine, but Jack stood at the port side railing, watching the water silently. As per usual, a bottle of rum was clasped in his right hand. It was so far unopened.

When he finally pulled the cork, he was mildly surprised to find it come out easily. He stared at the bottle for a long moment, thinking.

He knew that rum bottles- or any bottles- never opened that easily. So someone had opened it previously. He knew none of his men would put an opened bottle back, so that left one man left in question; Norrington. He easily recalled that the man had drunk quite an amount of the liquid after resigning from his position as commodore. But he was sure that there was still some amount of morals left in the ex-navy officer. One of them, Jack guessed, was clearly that he had a sense of how much he should drink.

The pirate captain relaxed. It was nothing to worry about. He tilted the bottle back and took a long swig. He'd half-downed the contents in his mouth when it occurred to him that something tasted off. Poisoned. The word popped up in his mind. Eyes widening in horror at the possibility, he spat out the rest of his mouthful.

He remained still for a moment, waiting to see if anything would happen. After a long minute, he let out a breath. He hadn't dropped dead, so that was a good sign. But his mouth felt drier than before he'd inhaled the rum, his lungs felt constricted, a knot of pain began to form in his stomach. Not completely free.

"Norrington!" Jack snapped, using irritation to mask his growing panic.

He stalked down the stairs towards the dining hall. He stormed into the cabin, where all of the men had gone silent at his outburst. He went directly up to the former Admiral, yanking him from his chair by the collar of his shirt. He practically dragged the man from the room.

"Captain's mad." Ragetti muttered. "Cap'n Jack ain't ever mad at anyone."

"Wonder what Norrington did." Pintel pondered.

"Nothin' good, I'll tell ye that." Gibbs mused.

Jack ignored them, crossing the length of the ship before he finally threw Norrington into a wall. "Well?"

"Well what?" The man asked haughtily. "I'd like to know what I did, Captain, before you go punishing me for something I did not do."

The pirate captain grit his teeth, fighting off anger. "What do ye plan to achieve by poisonin' me, Commodore?"

"Ah, that." He said it as if he'd known where the conversation was going. "Sorry. Old habits and all that."

"That's not goin' to slide this time, mate." Jack growled. "For the record, I've not done anythin' to ye. Could've gladly thrown ye overboard by now. Why're ye tryin' to kill me?"

"Because, Sparrow, I lost everything when I decided to go after you. I lost the Dauntless and my crew in the hurricane, I lost my dignity serving you when we chased after that chest, and I lost my life saving Elizabeth so that she could gather with other pirates." Norrington reminded him with scorn.

"But ye didn't 'ave to go after me. An' no one forced ye to sail through the hurricane. Ye could've even stood up against me on the Pearl, Elizabeth would've protected ye. And ye didn't 'ave to save her on the Dutchman." He pointed out, managing to remain calm. "Ye see, mate, none of this is my fault. Yet I'm the one bein' poisoned. Pull your head out o' the past."

Something flashed in the former Admiral's eyes, as if he was realizing that the other man was right. He didn't comment on it, but Jack sensed a change in him. "How did you know I poisoned you?"

"The rum didn't taste right. An' out of all the crew, there's no one I know of who'd waste a bottle o' rum to poison someone. Except for yourself." Jack scoffed. "Now, if ye're not goin' to tell me anythin' useful, like where I can get a bloody antidote, I'm takin' ye to the brig."

"I'm afraid I'm not even sure if there is an antidote."

"Do ye know anythin' 'bout the poison? Are ye even sure it'll kill me?"

"The man I got it from said it would kill." Norrington replied.

"Where'd ye even get it?" Jack asked.

"From a crewmember aboard the Flying Dutchman."

"Please tell me William isn't tryin' to kill me."

"Turner's not involved."

"Do ye have any idea how long I have to find a cure?"

"I've no clue." The former Admiral admitted.

"Right, well, do me a favor an' walk yourself to the brig. I've got an antidote to go find."