Well, I was sitting on my butt doing absolutely nothing and this came to me. And if it goes over really well, maybe I can do a story or a few one shots about Jack's sister and her history, or maybe I can ingrain her in a round about way into the movies. I am obviously undecided so any input will be greatly appreciated. And flames will not be tolerated. Just a warning.

I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean or any of it's canon characters, like Teague and/or Jack. I do, however own my OC, who is still nameless to keep the mystery going. Really the point of the whole thing is she could be anybody but the feelings she has would be the same for any sibling Jack had. Hopefully. I have also named Teague's wife in this story as Catherine but if anyone knows her real name, or if she's ever given one, I'd be happy to change it.

Enjoy. R&R


All of Shipwreck was stiflingly silent that night, it seemed. Everything was still and quiet as if it was rude to make noise; even the untameable ocean seemed to understand the grief overwhelming the streets and lapped the shore as silently as possible.

And because everything was so still, the beautifully and agonizingly sad and quiet notes that her father plucked nimbly from the old, worn guitar floated and echoed through the entire city.

Every note made her eyes burn and her heart ache. Her body seemed to throb in agony and grief but she dared not cry. Not now, when her father was being courteous enough to be near her.

Although, being in the study alone with only him and the guitar...It really wasn't adequate in her opinion to commemorate Jack; though, it would have to do. She was surprised that their father even sat here with her, sharing this precious moment, because normally something like this would drive him away from others, especially her. In light of this she wasn't going to complain about how inferior this seemed.

It just wasn't the way she had imagined finding out about her brother's death. Really she had imagined an uproar in the city that knew both of the Sparrow children so well, when the news spread, and then she had imagined the entire city going on a four day bender to remember him and mourn him. She thought that all of their friends would get together and tell stories about him, and drink to the legend he became. She thought she would remember him and how he died and feel proud. But instead the whole city seemed to be in shock and she just felt...helpless.

There was nothing really she could do about it, and he had died because of his own schemes in the far past so what was there to be proud of? Of course she wasn't ashamed of him, and she loved him dearly but...it just didn't seem right for Captain Jack Sparrow.

She sighed softly as her thoughts wound down and she was able to be in the present moment again, listening to her dad play and trying not to cry for her ridiculous older brother.

Suddenly she realized something.

"This song..." her voice broke and the first tear slipped, "You played it for mum."

Teague opened his eyes and lifted his head from where it had been resting on the back of his chair to look at his daughter properly for the first time since they got the news.

"Aye lass," he acknowledged her, his voice hoarse and thick.

"I...He would've liked that."

They both know he wouldn't have. He would've hated it, that something used to remember Catherine and her beauty, would be wasted on him, but she couldn't think of anything else to say.

Teague just leaned his head back on his chair once again. He had the grand gift of silence that neither her or her brother were granted. She wished it had been granted to at least her so that she could stay silent now, but she needed some conversation to drowned out her internal pain.

"Do you think...he passed on his Pirate Lord title?"

This time Teague chuckled harshly before he spoke, "Nay lass, knowin' Jackie th' way I do, I'd say he 'ould be too confident in his abilities to prepare for tha' eventuality. He would've hung onto tha' until he..."

The air seemed to get caught in Teague's throat and he tried to clear it half-heartedly but he didn't finish his sentence. He didn't need too anyway, because she understood.

Jack was Jack, and that wouldn't have changed even in the face of death.

With another soft sigh she stood up and walked across the room toward her father's desk. She was aware of the guitar falling silent as she circled the desk and opened the deep bottom draw to reveal six bottles of rum. With a half-hearted chuckle, she took out two, and shut it with her foot again.

As she made her way back to her chair she handed a bottle to her dad, who had long since sat up to look at what she was doing.

"Thanks lass," he said insincerely and watched her closely as she sat down again.

Her breath hitched and she nodded, "Your welcome Da'."

It was silent for a moment before Teague sighed and set his bottle down.

"He 'ouldn't want ye to be in a bad way lass," he said in tone that clearly conveyed he was uncomfortable.

She nodded eagerly and spoke in a strained voice, "I know that. I know that all too well."

Teague nodded cautiously, and watched her for a moment more before he went back to his guitar playing.

As the soulful tune picked up again, she felt a sob rise in her throat. She couldn't help it. Jack was her brother. It was to be expected, but she tried to stifle it anyway, and it came out sort of strangled. Her hand flew up to her mouth, unconsciously, to try and keep anymore from escaping.

It didn't work though. Her sobs came unbidden, and she finally let them go unhindered. They were soft and delicate sobs but she was unable to stop them nonetheless.

Suddenly, she was aware of the guitar going silent, and the scuffling of boots as they made their way toward the door. And she was just able to here the door open and close before her sobs got louder and more desperate.

It seemed she had out stayed her father's welcome once again. That's how it always seemed to be. He stayed just long enough to pass the rum, play a tune, and then he disappeared again. She smiled bitterly through the tears as she remembered Jack. He had warned her that's all they would ever get from him. And that made her cry harder.