AN: Imagine this ten years from now- Jack D Sparrow, Red Hair Shanks and a mystery person against Davy Jones and Marines. In the aftermath, Shanks betrays Jack and hands him over to the Five Elders as per their deal. This prompts the Caribbean Pirates and their alliance to start a full out war against the World Government.
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Crocodile had scoffed when Jack first explained it.
A compass that didn't point north. A compass that didn't care about poles, currents, or log poses. A compass that—according to him—pointed toward what you wanted most.
Absurd.
She had stood on the deck with her arms crossed, cigar between her fingers, watching the needle spin lazily while Jack smiled like a man privy to a private joke.
"Who would believe that nonsense?" she had said, exhaling smoke. "And even if it worked, how exactly do you expect to cross the Grand Line without poses? Luck?"
Jack had tipped his hat. "Ah, but you see—luck and I have an understanding."
She'd snorted.
And then she'd smiled smugly when dark clouds began to gather ahead.
A storm.
Good. Let the compass fail. Let reality assert itself.
Then the first wind hit.
And with it came the one thing she hated more than anything else in the world.
Rain.
Her weakness.
The smugness vanished quickly after that.
Below deck, Crocodile was forced into a constant, furious battle with the ship itself. The storm battered the Pearl from all sides, water seeping in through stressed seams, the hull groaning under pressure. She pressed sand-hardened hands against the wood, sealing cracks, reinforcing planks, gritting her teeth every time cold water splashed against her boots.
"Idiots," she hissed, sand swirling around her fingers. "Absolute idiots."
Above deck, chaos reigned.
Pintel clung to a rope with both arms, screaming incoherently as the sail snapped and billowed like a ghost being exorcised. Augur moved with grim efficiency beside him, hauling lines, tying knots with stiff, numbing fingers while rain plastered his hair to his face and fogged his glasses.
"Left rope!" he shouted.
"I am left rope!" Pintel yelled back, not understanding the instruction at all.
Gibbs was everywhere at once—barking orders, grabbing loose barrels before they smashed into railings, shoving Ragetti toward anything that looked remotely unsecured.
"Tie it down!" Gibbs shouted.
"I am tying it down!" Ragetti yelled, wrapping a rope around the same post for the fourth time.
"And after that—check below deck!"
Ragetti ran down, skidded on the slick steps, and popped back up seconds later with sand in his mouth.
He spat. "She threw sand at me!"
Gibbs sighed. "That means she's not dead yet. Good."
At the helm, Jack Sparrow fought the wheel like it was an old rival.
The wind screamed. Waves slammed against the Pearl with enough force to rattle her bones. Jack's boots slid across the deck, his arms strained, his coat soaked through. He glanced down at the compass in his hand.
The needle was steady.
Pointing straight ahead.
Jack's grin widened.
"Well," he muttered, "that settles that."
He hauled the wheel, forcing the Pearl deeper into the storm.
When Gibbs heard, he nearly jumped overboard.
"DEEPER?" he shouted, staggering toward the helm. "Captain, that's madness! You don't sail into a storm—you skirt it!"
Jack didn't look away from the waves. "Ah, but we're not skirting anything today."
Gibbs grabbed the rail, knuckles white. "We'll sink!"
Jack finally glanced back at him. "Possibly."
Gibbs stared. "Possibly?"
"But probably not," Jack added cheerfully.
Gibbs could only curse and stagger back to his post, trusting—against all good sense—that Jack Sparrow would not let his ship die.
Then Ragetti screamed.
"MAN OVERBOARD!"
A massive wave crashed across the deck, lifting Pintel clean off his feet and flinging him screaming into the black water.
Augur didn't hesitate.
He dropped his rifle, vaulted the rail, and vanished beneath the waves.
Jack heard the chaos but didn't dare let go of the helm.
Then—
Clung.
Something small and hard struck the ship.
Jack frowned.
Another impact followed, this one stinging his knuckles.
He squinted through the rain.
White.
Solid.
"Hail," he muttered.
And that could only mean one thing.
"Brace yourselves!" Jack shouted. "We're close!"
Below deck, Crocodile screamed something unrepeatable.
The storm broke them.
When Ragetti woke, everything was silent.
Too silent.
He groaned, pushed himself upright—and froze.
Snow.
White, endless snow beneath his hands.
He scrambled to his feet, heart pounding, and saw the Black Pearl grounded at an awkward angle, her hull scarred, sails torn, mast groaning in protest.
Dark clouds loomed overhead.
Ahead, tall trees rose from the land, branches heavy with frost.
"…We lived," Ragetti whispered.
He staggered around the ship, calling out.
"Captain? Gibbs? Pintel? Anyone?"
A gasp answered him.
Ragetti spun and saw Gibbs half-submerged near the hull, clawing at the ice-edged water.
He ran, dropping to his knees and hauling the older man up with all his strength.
Gibbs was freezing.
Ice clung to his beard. His teeth chattered violently. His hands shook uncontrollably.
"What happened?" Ragetti asked.
Gibbs glared at him through chattering teeth. "What happened… is that I fell into icy water… because our dear captain decided that we should head into storms for fun!"
Ragetti wisely said nothing.
A voice drifted down from the deck.
Bright. Cheerful.
"There you are, Mr. Gibbs! I was beginning to wonder if you'd fallen off."
Gibbs' eyes rolled back.
He fainted.
Jack peered over the rail, tilting his head. "Ah. Hypothermia. Always flares up in cold environment."
Augur climbed back onto the deck moments later, soaked, bruised, and wrestling with a frozen bolt on Senriku.
"It's jammed," he muttered darkly.
Crocodile emerged from below deck wearing a thick winter coat—no one asked where she got it—glaring daggers at Jack.
Pintel staggered up behind her, opened his mouth to speak, then gagged.
He reached in, pulled out a fish skeleton, stared at it in disgust, and threw it away.
Jack blinked. "Where's the rest of the fish?"
Pintel burped.
"There it is," Jack nodded.
Only then did the cold truly hit Pintel. He shivered violently.
Augur rubbed his temples. "So. Where exactly are we? I mean which part of the island?"
Jack took out his compass. The needle spun… then settled.
Ragetti shouted from below, "GIBBS' HEART STOPPED!"
Everyone leaned over.
"It's beating! It's beating!" Ragetti corrected.
Crocodile sighed. "We need a doctor."
Jack smiled faintly.
"Good thing," he said, "we're on an island full of them."
Augur frowned. "And the old witch?"
Jack's smile widened.
"That," he said, "is where we're going."