Word Count: 2.9k
A/N: Ehem, I may have made a small mistake. I wrote this and the previous chap based of memory and not the sequence of the POTC trilogy. The bank robbery is from the 2017 film, I skipped 4 movies. So... expect Jack's adventures to go backwards 2017->2011->2007 etc.
My excuse? This is heavily AU.
=================================================
I'd barely made it three steps before a wild screeching echoed down the street. Puss perked up beside me, his ears twitching.
"What in the nine realms is that—"
Ten horses in full sprint. Eyes wide with panic. Harnessed to what looked like an entire bank vault… or wait, no, the entire bank. Not just the vault. The whole damn stone-and-wood building was being dragged like a stubborn mule by this stampede of beasts across the cobbled street, leaving a trail of broken barrels, scattered fruit, and confused onlookers in its wake.
I blinked. Puss took off his hat and shielded his eyes like a visor.
"That… is quite the transportation method," he muttered.
Just as I was recovering from that absurdity, a very loud and very out-of-breath man in a pirate coat came sprinting around the corner, flailing his arms like he was running late to his own execution. Right behind him? A horde of red-coated British marines, shouting, waving muskets, tripping over each other like it was a parade rehearsal gone wrong.
"Hold your fire!" one of the commanding officers barked, trying to aim his musket while running. "The damn lunatic's going to lead us into a bloody circus!"
As if on cue, the pirate—dark dreadlocks, a swagger in his limp, smudged eyeliner and all—stumbled forward with a hoarse yell.
"WAIT FOR ME, YOU BLOODY HORSES!" he wailed.
Puss and I just stood there. I could feel my face slowly morphing into something between wonder and unfiltered joy.
"Ohh," I breathed. "Its a pirate."
"A very stylish one," Puss added, his nose twitching.
Jack Sparrow was now nearly cornered. The marines were closing in, bayonets ready, shouting threats, probably too winded to actually do much. And Jack was slowing, his run turning into a stumble, then a full-on crawl.
That was when I decided.
I didn't even think twice. I reached down, scooped up Puss in one arm like a backpack, and shouted, "Let's go be pirates!"
A burst of heat lit beneath my boots, and the next second, we were airborne. Puss gave a startled yelp, his claws digging into my arm.
"Warn me next time, idiota!"
We rocketed forward, wind howling past my ears, the scent of smoke and salty sea air burning in my nose. Down below, Jack was flailing again, this time yelling something about rum and betrayal, when I swooped down and grabbed him by the shoulders like a hawk snatching a fish.
"Well now, this is new!" he wheezed, kicking his legs as we lifted off. "I've had dreams like this before but they usually involve mermaids and less fire."
"Hi," I shouted over the rush of wind. "Big fan of pirates!"
"Oh good, you're insane too!"
The marines stopped in their tracks below us, eyes wide and mouths open as they watched their target literally fly away. I would've laughed if I hadn't been concentrating on not dropping either of my passengers.
We looped through the air, curving wide over rooftops and darting out over the city wall, heading east toward the warehouse district where I'd seen some horses parked earlier. I figured that had to be Jack's crew. Who else parked horses like that?
Sure enough, we touched down in front of a large, half-rotted warehouse with a slanted roof and a hanging sign that read "SALT AND FISH CO." I dropped down hard, my boots skidding in the gravel, and gently lowered Jack and Puss to the ground.
"A cat's never meant to fly," Puss said, scratching my ankle with his itty-bitty claws.
Jack wobbled, blinked at me, then turned to Puss . "Did that just talk or am I still drunk?"
"Yes you are drunk," Puss said, dusting off his boots. "And yes, I can talk."
The warehouse doors creaked open and a round man with wild sideburns and a nervous mustache poked his head out. "Cap'n! There ye are!" Jack straightened his coat and gave a charming spin.
"Gibbs, my dear friend! We are in business." Behind him, two other crewmates peeked out, gaping at me with a mixture of awe and wariness. One of them—a burly man missing two front teeth—scratched his head.
"Did that lad just fly you 'ere?"
Jack turned, patted me on the back with both hands. "He did, my good man. Flew me like a majestic flaming eagle. I want one."
"I'm not for sale," I said, still catching my breath. "But I do take compliments."
Puss stepped forward, arms crossed. "You are welcome, by the way. We also accept rum as payment." Inside the warehouse, we ducked behind stacks of crates and barrels. Gibbs shoved a loose plank across the door, peering nervously through the cracks.
"Cap'n," he whispered, "that was the worst robbery I've ever seen." Jack gave a toothy grin in reply. "It's only the first act, my friend."
"What's act two, then?" I asked.
Jack leaned closer, gave me a lopsided look, and whispered, "You tell me. I'm improvising."
I couldn't help it. I laughed. A deep, warm laugh that filled the room. Something about the madness of it all just felt right. Maybe it was the chaos. Maybe it was the absurdity. Or maybe… I just found this situation utterly stupid
Jack raised an eyebrow. "You alright there, flying boy?"
"Oh yeah," I said, finally exhaling. "I'm great. Better than great." I grinned—no, smiled,—and plopped down on a crate, feeling the sweat dry on my back.
"Well," I said, stretching, "what do we do now?"
Jack leaned against a barrel, pulling a bottle of rum from his coat. "Now, my fiery friend… we plan the greatest pirate escape this town has ever seen."
Jack led his crew and the rest of us into the warehouse, hands itching to get his hands on the recently acquired gold.
***
[3rd POV]
The vault itself lay in a glorious heap—bent, bruised, and nearly halved from the sheer force of being yanked down several city blocks. Gold coins were scattered like breadcrumbs, glittering under rays of light piercing through the broken roof.
Camden, Puss, Jack, and three of Jack's barely sober crewmates gathered what they could, tossing it into burlap sacks while breathing like they'd all just run a marathon backwards.
"We're rich!" one of Jack's mates cheered, stuffing his pockets with loose coins and accidentally dropping some down his pants. "Oh bugger—blimey that's cold!"
Camden laughed as he helped Puss scoop up a few bejeweled candlesticks and flung them into a sack. "This is the weirdest day I've had in a while," he muttered, eyes wide as another sack split open and spilled silver goblets and what looked like a golden chamber pot.
"This is your weirdest day?" Jack blinked, pausing to shake sand out of his boots. "Then you clearly haven't woken up in a hammock tied to the top of a coconut tree with a parrot reciting your love letters to a seagull. That was my Tuesday."
"I think I love this guy," Camden said with a chuckle, handing Puss a handful of ornate rings. Puss studied them with a frown.
"None of these fit my claws. Bah!"
Jack, ever the unbothered captain, clapped his hands. "Alright, my eccentric band of thieves and felines—time to vanish before the Royal Marines realize where we went. Savvy?"
As if summoned by their cue, the distant sound of whistles and marching echoed across the town.
Boots, too many to count, were pounding the cobblestones like an approaching storm. Camden hoisted the last sack onto a horse. "Time to skedaddle!"
"Skedaddle? Who says that?" Jack tilted his head.
"I do. Now let's go!"
The group mounted quickly—Camden on Valor (Don't ask where he came from), Puss on the back half of Camden's saddle , and Jack on a tall black horse that kept biting him when he wasn't looking.
The rest of the crew scrambled onto carts and wagons that were part-vault, part-debris. One of them rode the vault door like it was a sled, yelling, "THIS IS BETTER THAN A SALOON BRAWL!"
The procession blasted out of the warehouse like a bat out of hell, clattering through the back alleys and tearing across the docks. Camden couldn't stop laughing —the rush of wind, the shouting, the smell of salt in the air—this was freedom.
Absolute, glorious, ridiculous freedom.
At one turn, Jack's horse bucked, sending him tumbling into a stack of empty fish crates. He popped out the other side with a shrimp dangling from his ear.
"Still alive!" he declared, swinging himself back into the saddle. "And still gorgeous!"
Puss looked up at Camden and said, "I see why you like pirates, my friend. It is like theatre but with idiots!"
They veered down the last pier. The sea came into view, blue and churning with waves, and there she was—Jack's ship: the Dying Gull. And truly the name fit the ship to a tee .The sails were torn, the paint chipped, and the crew members hanging off the rigging looked hungover or dead—or both.
"Jack…" Camden hesitated, slowing Valor to a trot. "That's your ship?"
Jack puffed out his chest proudly. "Aye. Isn't she beautiful?"
"She's… got character," Camden offered, trying not to wince as a large portion of the railing cracked and fell into the sea.
"She leaks in all the right places," Jack added. "Besides, beauty is on the inside."
"That's what people say about goats that can't get adopted," Puss muttered from behind.
Still, no time for judgment now. The Royal Marines had spotted them—shouts from the edge of the port confirmed it. Cannons were being rolled up. Camden lit his palms with fire, ready to go full "angry storm god" if needed, but Jack stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.
"Let me handle this."
Jack stood at the edge of the dock, spun dramatically, and shouted at the Marines:
"Gentlemen! May I offer you… an apology and a distraction!"
He then proceeded to throw one of the burlap sacks—filled with silverware and loose coins—into the air. It exploded like a piñata, showering the marines and nearby fishermen in riches.
Predictably, chaos ensued. As soldiers and townsfolk scrambled for coins and forks, Camden turned to Jack. "You really are insane."
"Not insane," Jack corrected, jumping onto the gangplank. "Just selectively rational."
Everyone boarded in a rush. Camden made sure Valor was loaded onto the ship (after bribing him with apples), and once the ropes were pulled and sails halfway raised, the Dying Gull groaned into motion.
Jack stood on the helm, arms out wide. "To the seas, my friends! Let the wind be wild, the drink be stronger than logic, and may the Royal Navy always be one bad turn behind!"
Camden leaned on the railing, wind tousling his locks as he looked out over the water.
Beside him, Puss removed his hat, holding it against his chest. "Do you think we are now criminals?"
Camden smirked. "Probably."
"Excellent," said the cat.
As the town shrank behind them and the sun began to dip behind the waves, Camden finally let out a long, triumphant laugh. It wasn't the forced kind, or the polite chuckle he used back at the castle. No—this was a free man's laugh, loud and reckless and full of life.
Somewhere behind him, Jack was trying to serenade the moon with a bottle of rum and lyrics he clearly didn't remember.
Camden just watched the horizon, wind at his back, the creak of the ship under his feet, and Puss in Boots beside him. He didn't know where they were going.
=.=.=
[A few nautical miles later]
[3rd POV]
Dying Gull sliced through the sea with the agility of a wild beast, her black sails billowing as she fled the harbor like a rogue with a guilty conscience. The sun hung low on the horizon, casting golden light over the frothy waves as Camden stood near the wheel, hair whipping behind him, the wind tearing at his clothes.
Behind them, just barely catching up, were two British naval ships — white sails proud, guns loaded, flags snapping in the breeze.
"Cap'n!! Navy ships! Two of 'em!" a voice bellowed from the crow's nest. "Starboard side! Closing fast!"
Camden craned his neck and squinted into the distance. Sure enough, the silhouettes of two ships cut through the sea like relentless wolves. He could already make out the glint of sunlight on their cannons.
"Excellent," Jack muttered, stepping up beside him with a bottle of rum in one hand and the other resting casually on the wheel. "I was starting to worry this little holiday would be boring."
Camden blinked at him. "There are two fully-armed warships chasing us, and you're smiling?"
Jack took a long swig, wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and gave him a sidelong glance. "My dear airborne friend, this is where the fun begins."
With that, he passed the bottle to a crewman and took the helm, calling out orders with a voice that rang across the deck.
"Mr. Gibbs, trim the mainsail! Ana, get those ropes tightened or we'll be swimming home!"
The crew sprang to action, each person leaping to their task with a kind of chaotic synchronicity. Camden found himself impressed. They weren't just a ragtag group of sea rats — they were an orchestra of mischief under the baton of a mad genius.
From atop the rigging, Puss in Boots swung down like a furry acrobat, landing nimbly on Camden's shoulder. "I must say, amigo… this is far more exciting than wandering dusty trails."
"Wait until the cannonballs start flying," Camden said, his eyes still locked on the approaching ships.
Sure enough, within moments, the roar of the first cannon echoed across the water. A splash erupted a few feet to the left of the ship — too close for comfort.
"A little warning next time would be nice!" Camden called out, already channeling magic into his hands.
Jack grinned and yanked the wheel hard to the right. "Let's give 'em a bit of a chase, eh?"
The Dying Gull lurched starboard, tilting just enough to make Camden grip the railing with both hands. The sea foam sprayed across the deck as the ship zigzagged around a tiny crescent-shaped sandbar.
The first British ship tried to follow but was too slow, scraping the edge and losing momentum. The second ship veered the other way, firing a round of cannonballs that whizzed past the stern.
"Bit close, that one!" Jack barked.
"We need cover," Camden said, summoning his power. Sparks danced around his fingers. "I'll give us some breathing room."
He stepped to the rear of the ship and began weaving the spell, muttering words that shimmered in the air. The clouds above seemed to react, swirling as if in anticipation.
Then, with a final push, Camden flung his hands forward — and a thick, swirling fog burst forth like a tidal wave of mist.
It rolled across the sea like smoke, shrouding the Sapphire Lady in a ghostly veil. Visibility dropped to nothing in seconds, and the naval ships behind them were swallowed in the haze.
The effect was immediate.
"They've lost sight of us!" Gibbs shouted, peering into the white wall.
Jack smirked. "Brilliant work, kid."
"I've got a few tricks up my sleeve," Camden replied, brushing a few strands of wet hair from his face.
He stepped back from the stern as the fog thickened, wrapping the ship like a blanket. The Sapphire Lady's sails were pulled taut, cutting through the mist silently, like a phantom ship from a sailor's nightmare.
"We'll take the reef pass," Jack said, spinning the wheel sharply. "They won't dare follow us in there."
"A reef pass?" Camden raised a brow. "Isn't that dangerous?"
"Only if you lack skill," Jack replied, clearly savouring the moment.
Camden glanced at Puss, who simply shrugged and pulled his hat lower. "He is drunk, but he has good instincts," the cat said.
The ship turned and dove into a narrow channel flanked by jagged coral and swirling tides. Jack navigated like a man possessed, steering with one hand and humming an old sea shanty as the ship bobbed and weaved through the reef maze.
Behind them, the sound of confused shouting echoed from the fog. A cannon fired blindly, but the shot missed by a mile.
"They're shooting into the mist now," Camden muttered.
Jack didn't even flinch. "Let 'em. We've danced with worse."
The reef opened into a small lagoon, hidden from view, with high rocky walls on all sides. As soon as they passed through, Jack slowed the ship, letting it drift gently.
"We'll anchor here for a bit," he said. "Let the heat die down."
The crew cheered. Several jumped overboard for a swim. Someone started playing a fiddle. The entire deck transformed from a battlefield into a beach party in under a minute.
Puss leapt onto a barrel and stretched. "Well, I must admit… that was exhilarating. Pirates really do live like stories, no?"
Camden sat down on a crate and nodded, catching his breath. "I think I like this life."
"Welcome to the crew," Jack said, tossing him a mug. "The sea's got room for one more rogue."
Camden caught it and laughed. "I'm not a rogue."
Jack tilted his head. "You fly, you fight, and you don't mind bending a few rules. That's pirate enough in my book."
Puss leaned against Camden's leg and yawned. "I suggest we rest while we can. Trouble has a way of finding us."
==================================================