True to his word, Jack escorted Helena back to the Pearl the next morning after meeting with Annamaria. Or rather, he tried to.
They were just barely in sight of the docks when it happened; all the warning they got was Helena's surprised cry as she was pulled away from Jack's side. Surprise quickly turned to anger however as she recognized the pirate who had accosted her the night before. She kneed the man viciously in the groin and twisted away. But this time the pirate was not alone; there were at least five others, clearly come to settle the score. Within minutes a fight had broken out; bullets flew and steel clashed, adding to the overall raucousness in the streets. Helena looked on helplessly; she wore no weapon and would have had very little idea of how to use one even if she had.
They were badly outnumbered. Annamaria and Jack were fighting almost back to back, and the fight was still going badly. Anna's eyes met Helena's for a moment and the younger woman knew that she had to do something. She could not fight, but she could run for help. Helena nodded; she took a deep breath and ran for the Pearl.
"Commo – James!" The title was cut short as Helena remembered that it was not to be used here. Norrington looked up from his work sharply. He, at least, had learned his lesson about Tortuga's taverns and remained aboard the ship since his return. Helena appeared on the deck, her breath coming short from running and her hair straggling out of its tie; James stood up quickly.
"What is it?" He did not even bother asking how she had gotten off the ship; that question could wait until later.
"Jack and Anna are in trouble– we were ambushed down one of the back alleys. Six or seven men – they need help!" Norrington swore internally.
"Stay here," he ordered, taking off at a run.
It did not take him long to locate them among the general turmoil that was Tortuga. The little fight had become a general brawl; bullets flew and the clang of steel was audible from the docks. He arrived just in time to see Jack crumple to the ground as he was hit from behind with the butt of a pistol. Norrington didn't think about it; he dodged his way through the crossfire and knelt down next to the unconscious pirate. He slung Jack over his shoulder even as Annamaria emerged from between two pirates, breathing heavily but unharmed, and somehow they managed to bring the injured man back to the Pearl.
When Norrington returned with the surgeon, Jack was still unconscious and lying in his cabin.
"'E 'ad a bad bump on 'is 'ead," the surgeon, a pirate of about forty years of age, advised. "'E'll be out fer a few hours yet." James nodded; the surgeon stood and left, letting Helena in as he did. She stopped when she saw Norrington sitting next to the bed.
"I'm sorry, I heard…" James shook his head.
"Come in, by all means," he invited, standing to offer the chair as was proper. He turned to leave when Jack shifted; a low moan escaped his lips.
"Arthur," he murmured. His voice had changed; all trace of the Cockney was gone, leaving in its place a high-born drawl. "Jamie? What – no!" Helena reached out a hand as though to soothe the pirate; Norrington froze. He turned back, his mind slowly going over the few hints he had had of Jack's past and added this new piece to the puzzle. He knew that voice; more, he knew those names. Arthur was the current Earl of Northampton and Jamie… although he had not heard the nickname in twelve years, the sound of it was still familiar to his ears. Could it be? He had thought, that night at the wedding….
"Jack?" he murmured, wondering. The pirate quieted. Helena looked at Norrington questioningly; he shook his head. "You have a lot of explaining to do, old friend," he murmured to the now silent pirate. He turned to Helena. "Take care of him." With that he left the cabin, aware that the ship's crew still needed help with repairs.
Jack Sparrow awoke with the worst headache he had had in a long while. Had he gotten drunk the night before? He racked his brain but could not remember.
"You're awake," a voice said beside him. Jack jumped slightly, then held his aching head and moaned at both the movement and the noise. He remembered now; he had been walloped over the head during the fight that morning… and Helena Eaton was sitting by the bed. Why would she be here?
Helena had taken over the task of looking after the captain for the surgeon, who had other wounded to attend to. Anna was likewise busy, and so the job had fallen to the only other woman aboard ship with any time to spare. She had been told by the surgeon to make sure that Jack acted normally (or as close to normal as he was likely to get) when he woke.
"How do you feel?" she inquired. Jack groaned.
"Where's the bloody hammer and tongs?" he asked in reply. Helena frowned in confusion for a moment before she understood what the pirate was saying. She laughed; Jack winced and tried to wrap the pillow around his head to act as a buffer for the noise. Helena stopped, realizing her mistake.
"I'm sorry. Would you like me to leave?" she asked, more softly now.
"Only if it's to get me something to drink," the pirate replied. Helena shook her head.
"The surgeon said you're not to have anything except water for at least a few hours," she replied, knowing by now that when Jack said something to drink he meant something alcoholic, be it rum, brandy, or ale. Jack scowled.
"Ingrate," he muttered. The headache had subsided a bit; he shifted a bit until he was sitting up, reclining against the headboard such as it was. Another thought occurred to him; he had been in a back alley in the seedy section of Tortuga when he had been hit. How had he wound up here?
"Commodore Norrington brought you back," Helena said softly, almost as if she were reading his mind. He turned his head to look at her, startled.
"Is something wrong?" the tailor's daughter asked, concerned at his reaction.
"No... No." He shook that thought from his mind and turned again to the woman who sat next to the bed.
"What are you doing here, luv?" he asked bluntly.
"I was told to look after you until you came to. The surgeon wants to be sure the blow didn't do permanent damage." Jack snorted.
"He's half convinced I'm already daft; a little tap on the head can't do any harm. However a lack of sustenance…" he left the sentence hanging suggestively, glancing mournfully at the empty rum bottle on the floor by the bed.
"No rum. Behave or I'll tell him you're a raving lunatic who needs to be locked away," Helena replied firmly but not without humor. Jack did not laugh; his expression became thoughtful.
"Now that I'm not, luv." A silence settled between them; Helena broke it after a few moments by clearing her throat.
"I'll tell James that you're awake; he wanted to speak with you." She stood and turned toward the door.
"Helena…" Jack said behind her. She turned back.
"Captain Sparrow?" Jack hesitated a moment before he answered.
"Thanks for the company."
"My pleasure - Jack," she replied with a smile. This time she turned and left the cabin, leaving behind a pensive pirate.
Norrington did not, in fact, come to see Sparrow until the next day. He, like the rest of the crew, was occupied with repairs after the battle with the Harrier. Jack had just finished dressing when James knocked on the door.
"Come in," Jack called, adjusting the bandana around his head and reaching for his hat. He stopped abruptly when he saw Norrington's face. "What is it?"
James shut the door behind him with a snap. Warning voices began to murmur in Jack's head; he knew all the signs of an angry James Norrington, or he had used to, and he was seeing them now. Uneasily he wondered what was amiss.
"Jack, we need to talk." The warning bells turned into a shriek of alarm. Jack. Not Sparrow, not Captain – Jack. Something was seriously wrong here.
"We on first name terms now, James?" he asked lightly, trying to gauge the severity of the situation.
"We were at one time," James answered in a stiff tone.
Jack's stomach dropped into his boots. His hand hung in midair for a moment; he stared, open-mouthed, confirming James's suspicions.
Jack's hand dropped to his side; he looked suddenly weary. "How'd you know?" he asked. He had dropped the Cockney at last and now his natural voice came through; he tried to decide whether James's expression was angry or merely hurt.
"You were unconscious; you called for me and Arthur." Jack shook his head.
"You always were too smart for your own good, Jamie," he said simply. James shook his head angrily.
"Don't you Jamie me. Why didn't you say anything? Why did you – damn it Jack I thought you were dead! And you would have been too – I nearly killed you! Why didn't you say anything last year? What happened? " Jack sighed. He'd known this would happen eventually; James was indeed too smart to be fooled forever. Did it have to be right now, though?
"You remember in Port Royal I told you that if you had killed Buffington you deserved a medal –"
"I didn't kill him!" James protested. Jack shook his head.
"Pity; someone beat us both to him then. You'd want him dead too if you knew what he'd done over the years."
/Flashback/
The fighting raged all around him. It was the middle watch, a time which would otherwise be deadly boring, but not tonight. Pirates, suicidal bloody pirates, had attacked the Victory, though what their object was Jack Huntingdon could not understand. Surely there was no gain to be had from attacking a Navy ship-of-the-line, one that outgunned the pirates' Brigantine by about 50 cannons! And yet attack they did, and so the young Lieutenant was in the thick of the battle. He finished off one opponent, turned to meet the next… and felt the touch of a pistol at his head. The pirate before him put up his sword; Jack turned to meet the owner of the pistol.
A pair of very familiar cold blue eyes met him. "Ah, young Master Huntingdon; the very man I wished to speak to."
"Lord Buffington...you're a parasite for sore eyes," he greeted the marquis. Buffington cocked the pistol.
"We can shorten this interview if you wish," he said. Jack held up his hands; Buffington uncocked the pistol. "I thought you would prove to be reasonable," he said conversationally.
"Depends on the subject, my lord," Jack replied. "What's the occasion?" The tension was thick enough to be cut with a knife, and yet they might have been at Whitehall for the tone of the conversation.
"Well you see John, you've become a bit of a thorn in my side of late. The affair with the merchant was a tad awkward, and the incident last month… curiosity killed the cat, as they say. I can't promise that certain members of your family would be safe if you returned to England with what you know. You have a sister, I believe, and my sons are unmarried…"
"Father would never agree!" Jack exclaimed, unable to contain his horror at what Buffington suggested. The marquis smiled maliciously.
"You have a choice, boy. Either you go with these fine gentlemen-" he gestured to the pirates behind him, "and are never seen again, or I am afraid…your friend Mr. Norrington is aboard this ship, is he not?" A lump of cold fear settled in Jack's throat. That one had hit too close to home, and made their meaning perfectly clear; if they could not get to his sister they would move on to other members of his family, or to his friends. He could not allow that to happen, no matter what the consequence for him.
"Go with them?" he asked hoarsely.
"Never to be seen or heard from in England again. What you do with the rest of your life is your own affair; young Master Huntingdon will have died in battle, a noble and honorable demise."
"On one condition," Jack said, swallowing the part of him that screamed a terrified defiance. "You will swear not to harm my family or the Norringtons at any time in the future or cause them to be harmed. Swear it or I'll blow your guts out." He had gotten his pistol out of its holster now; he could shoot Buffington dead before any of them had a chance to do a thing and Buffington knew it. The marquis raised an eyebrow.
"You will make a fine pirate, Master Huntingdon. I will harm none of your family or young Mr. Norrington's on pain of death, nor will I allow any more of the crew of this ship to be harmed than necessary." Jack watched him for a long moment before dropping the pistol and nodding bitterly.
"Take him away," Buffington ordered. Jack was led away by the pirates; he stripped his jacket off before following them across to their brig…
/End Flashback/
"They wouldn't let me go once I'd come aboard, of course," he continued. "I became a part of the crew, albeit reluctantly at first. I got used to it quick enough; I was too far in to back out even if I'd wanted to when the East India Company caught us. I was the only one who survived of the crew; I took a different name and tried to disappear for good. I signed aboard the Pearl when I made it to Tortuga and became Captain after a bit of a scuffle one night. You know the rest."
James had been listening with stony face and growing incredulity. Jack had been right; it was a good thing that Buffington was already dead, because if he hadn't been James would have killed him. That was, if Jack had been telling the truth. But then, he had no reason not to, and so James chose to believe him for the time being.
"Is he the reason you came to Port Royal the night of the wedding?" he asked. Jack looked wounded.
"You don't think I came to see Elizabeth and the whelp?" he asked, giving the younger man his best innocent look. James frowned.
"No," he answered bluntly. Jack dropped the act with a sigh.
"Ah well, worth a try. Yes, he was. I'd heard that the bastard was going to be there; I wanted to finish him off myself but someone got there first."
"Why didn't you tell me last year?"
"To what point and purpose? So that you would have known who you were hanging and felt all the worse about it? So that you could do… what, James?"
"So that I could have… I don't know… given you the keys and let you escape! Something! Anything!" James regarded his old friend with frustration, clearly horrified at the thought of what he had nearly done.
"Water under the bridge, Jamie," Jack said with a shake of his head. "It didn't happen; no point in could-have-been. Tell me what I've missed back home." James stared at him for a long moment, unsure of what to say, before shaking his head.
"Bloody pirate," he muttered. He gathered his thoughts for a moment before beginning to recount the happenings of the past twelve years.