Van Augur woke to the sound of laughter.
Loud, unrestrained, joyful.
He opened his eyes.
Bandages. Lots of them. Chest, shoulder, side. Clean work—someone competent had treated him. His arms felt heavy. He tried to move them.
Chains.
Ropes, actually. Tied tight to the bedframe.
Then he remembered. He had lost.
For a long moment, he simply stared at the ceiling, taking stock of the pain, the unfamiliar weakness, the strange absence of his rifle's comforting weight. Then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, the corner of his mouth lifted.
A smile.
It was small. Barely there. But it existed.
So the rumors were true, then. The marksman who never missed… had finally missed, and lost.
He exhaled softly.
Pride had done him in. Being whispered about, being feared, being called inevitable—it had crept into his bones without him noticing. He had thought himself untouchable.
He had been wrong.
"Well now," a voice drawled from the doorway, "I was beginning to think you'd wake up frowning. But it's actually even more weird to see you smile."
Augur turned his head.
Jack Sparrow stood there, leaning casually against the doorframe, a bottle of rum dangling from his fingers. He looked entirely too relaxed for a man who had just sparked a small revolution. His hat was crooked. His white shirt was brand new. He now wore a black vest over the shirt. His eyes were bright.
Jack pushed himself off the frame and strolled in without waiting for permission. He crossed the room, pulled a chair closer, then ignored it entirely and sat down on the edge of Augur's bed instead.
He took a sip of rum.
Augur's eyes flicked to the bottle.
Jack noticed immediately and pulled it back, hugging it to his chest. "No. Get your own."
Augur blinked. "I didn't ask."
"You were thinking about it."
"I wasn't."
Jack narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "That sounds like a lie."
Augur let out a quiet chuckle, the sound rough but genuine. "Keep your rum. I don't want it."
Jack relaxed instantly. "Good. Because it's very good rum. And it's my rum, which I definitely didn't steal."
Silence settled between them, punctuated by distant cheers and music drifting in from outside.
Augur spoke first. "What happened?"
Jack tilted his head, considering. "Depends which part you want."
"The part where I wake up tied to a bed while the city celebrates."
Jack grinned. "Ah. That."
He leaned back slightly, balancing himself with one hand. "Turns out, when you give a long speech about freedom, corruption, fat pigs sitting on piles of gold, and how people might consider doing something about it… people listen."
Augur's eyes sharpened. "You didn't plan that."
"No," Jack admitted easily. "I planned to drink. The speech just… happened."
"And Roma?"
Jack winced theatrically. "Oh the fat pig? He met an unfortunate end involving an angry populace, several blunt instruments, and a distinct lack of sympathy."
Augur absorbed that in silence.
Jack took another sip. "There's a party going on now. Big one. Pintel got slapped by an old hag for trying to flirt."
Augur huffed. "Who's Pintel?"
"Poor Pintel," Jack sighed, not sounding particularly sincere.
Augur turned his gaze back to Jack. "You didn't come here just to update me."
Jack's grin softened, just a little. "You're sharp."
"I'm not a fool."
Jack nodded approvingly. "True. If you were, I wouldn't be here."
Augur waited.
Jack leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "I wanted to see you."
Augur studied him carefully. "Why?"
Jack shrugged. "You're smart. Calm. Dangerous. And you don't waste words."
He paused. "You'd get along with Gibbs. You'd benefit from each other."
Jack shook his head as if clearing thoughts away. "Anyway. Let's talk business."
Augur's posture stiffened. "Go on."
"You know Capone Bege?"
Augur's expression changed instantly. His hand twitched toward where his rifle should have been before he remembered—too late—that it was gone.
Jack smirked. "Ah. That reaction tells me everything."
Augur's voice lowered. "What about him?"
"I was given a commission," Jack said lightly. "By Bege."
Augur didn't blink. "To kill me."
"Correct."
A beat passed.
"Will you turn me in?"
Jack nodded. "Yes."
Augur stared at him, searching for something—hesitation, deceit, doubt. He found none.
"…You're honest," Augur said slowly. "Not smart, but honest."
Jack scoffed. "Rude."
"Then why are you still here?"
Jack tilted his head. "How much is the Hippo paying you for your job?"
Augur hesitated. Then answered. "Ten million berries. And it's Happo Navy, not Hippo. That's an animal."
Jack's eyes widened. "Ten?!"
He shot to his feet. "Bege, that stingy bastard."
Augur frowned. "What?"
"I only get five for you," Jack complained bitterly. "Five! For someone of your caliber!"
Augur stared.
Jack paced. "Influential crime boss. Entire island under his thumb. And he skimps."
He stopped abruptly and turned, eyes gleaming. "I have a plan."
Augur narrowed his eyes. "I'm listening."
Jack didn't wait for permission. "I turn you in. I get my five million."
Augur's gaze sharpened.
"Then," Jack continued cheerfully, "you do your job. You kill Bege. You collect ten million."
Augur's lips parted slightly.
"And," Jack added, "if there happens to be treasure involved…"
"…You take it," Augur finished.
Jack beamed. "Exactly!"
Augur stared at him like one might stare at a madman who had just suggested robbing the WG itself.
"You're proposing a double cross."
Jack wagged a finger. "No. See, that's the beauty of it."
He leaned in close. "I won't double cross him. I'll do my job. You'll do yours. If he dies after I turn you in… well. Tragic."
Augur was silent for a long time.
Then he chuckled.
"Greed," he said. "You're driven by it."
Jack nodded proudly. "Among other things. But tell me, who isn't driven by greed? You always want something."
Augur exhaled. "That's desire."
"Greed and desire go hand in hand."
"Not really. They are different."
Jack blinked. "Really?"
"Yes," Augur said calmly. "But that's not the topic. I will help you."
Jack grinned wider.
"But," Augur continued, eyes narrowing, "you want something else."
Jack raised a finger. "One condition."
"There it is."
"After all this," Jack said, "you join my crew."
Augur studied him.
The room felt suddenly very quiet.
"…Why?" Augur asked.
Jack shrugged. "We need a sniper."
Augur stared at him.
Then, slowly, he laughed.
NEXT DAY--
A man dressed like a jester came sprinting down the dock toward the Black Pearl, waving his arms wildly. "Marines!" he shouted. "They're coming!"
Jack groaned. "Always too soon. I had just met a nice woman."
They cast off quickly, sails snapping as the ship pulled away from the island. Jack leaned over the railing, cupped his hands around his mouth.
"Bye bye!" he called cheerfully. "And remember the day you met the great Captain—"
The ship moved far enough that no one could hear him anymore.
"—Jack Sparrow," he finished quietly, satisfied.
Gibbs frowned. "No one heard that."
Jack frowned back. "I choose to believe they did."
Below deck, Augur sat quietly, eyes drawn to a small scene nearby.
A little girl sat with Ragetti, pointing at letters in a book. Ragetti squinted, tongue sticking out in concentration.
Augur's gaze lingered.
"…Isn't that—"
Gibbs nodded. "She's part of the crew."
Augur hesitated. "The news said—"
"They lied," Gibbs said flatly. "It was a genocide."
Augur absorbed that. He was planning to turn her in before. But not so much now.
Robin shivered suddenly, a chill passing through her. She glanced around, confused, before her eyes landed on the tall man watching her.
"…Hey," Ragetti said, holding up a spoon. "Robin. Are we supposed to add this?"
Robin looked.
Her eyes widened.
"That's teaspoon," she said. "Not actual tea-spoon."
Ragetti blinked. "Ah."