Hunger Games: Fandom Style

Ready the Cannons

A/N: Please go back and reread the last chapter. I made a small but important addition at the end.
Also, please comment. Please. It would put me in a good mood.
Being in a good mood won't stop me from killing tributes, of course, but it's the principle of the thing.
Ready the cannons, men! This ship cannot be allowed to sail!

Pirates and vaults go together like Shipwreck Cove and a town called Shipwreck. One is just destined to be in the other.
And, in the case of the vaults, destined to steal everything in it of worth.
The plan for the heist was complicated enough to make Jack Sparrow himself proud. Of course it was; his father had been the one to plan it, and Jack had to get it from somewhere. It had involved a monkey, a can of pickles, and a fresh eyeball, and the details only got stranger from there.
While the others plundered the shelves, Captain Morgan drifted down the aisles. He paused by a seemingly worthless collection of odds and ends thrown carelessly into a hat.
The captain smiled. "Gotcha."

Natasha liked Jack. He was clever. But she wouldn't be able to save Barton by being squeamish, and if anyone deserved to get out of this, it was Clint.
She swung down from the rafters directly into Jack's path. Her ankle protested. Jack's traps had been good.
Her dagger was already going for his neck. He leaped back, arms windmilling.
"Did you miss me?" she asked.
"With such sweet sorrow that I can't wait to partake of it again." He bowed, then jumped into the water.
She jumped after him. The water was shallow, but not as shallow as it used to be. He was swimming away like a fish. She'd never catch him.
He turned on his back and blew a stream of water at her like a whale.
Her knife sliced through the water and hit him in the stomach. Blood clouded the water as he was swept along past the turn.
"It's a small world after all," piped brokenly though the hallways.
"Plenty small enough for me to find you," she muttered, wading through the water.

Will's voice came through the tiny device planted in Captain Morgan's ear. "Jack's been injured. It's bad. The girl's still after him."
Morgan cursed. "Bring me a light!" he roared.
The Capital would be stealin' nothin' else from him. Not this night.
He set fire to the nine pieces of eight. "Calypso," he crooned. "I release you from your human bonds." Let her wrack her vengeance on the Capital. She'd leave an honest pirate lad alone.
Surely.

Jack sank down behind the pyramid, the ever present music hiding a small groan. He had lost her.
Blood was seeping through his fingers. He pulled his hand away from his stomach and glanced down, then quickly put pressure on it again.
"A little help?" he whispered. Come on, Dad. Surely there must be someone willing to pay to save me. I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, after all. I have a ship to look after. I'm going to dive for black pearls. I don't care about the money. I don't care what's lurking out there. I just want to sail.
The ocean was the only place he'd ever felt free. He'd dreamed about just sailing off towards that tempting horizon. What could the Capital do about it?
He dared a peek around the pyramid. Still no sign of Natasha. Not on the catwalk, not in the roof beams, not in the water -
Something was in the water. Ripples were sliding through the oily mixture that smelled more like rot than good, honest, sea salt.
"Duck!" The yell echoed through the dark passage. A roar followed it, multiplied by the close walls.
He flinched back. Tia. No, Calypso. Calypso was loose. He shuddered.
Don't cry. Don't cry. Sponsors don't like it when you cry. Would the famous Captain Morgan cry? No. Don't cry. Don't cry.
He pressed his free hand to his mouth. There were screams coming now. Natasha. That boy she was always with that had helped hunt him. Barton.
"Run!" Natasha screamed. Another roar drowned out the echoes of her cry.
The cannon boomed. "Tasha!"
She was going to kill you, he reminded himself. She tried to kill you. The pain in his stomach backed up the sentiment eagerly.
But there'd been something about their fight, hadn't there? Something in the long, twisting fight that had started in his stronghold in the "Caribbean" and ended here in Tia's domain that he'd enjoyed. Something about her banter. Something about how she'd met everything he'd thrown at her. She had been - well, a worthy opponent at the least.
One that may yet kill you, a more practical Jack grumbled.
Boom. Silence followed the cannon shot.
He swallowed hard. Tia - no, Calypso, she was Calypso now - Calypso roared again. The ripples widened. She was coming this way. She was big now.
So his father had done something. He'd burned the nine pieces of eight to save his son.
Jack didn't feel very safe.
How had they done it the first time? He scrabbled weakly in his pockets. Three coins and a monkey's paw from the "Caribbean". The shell he'd found. What else?
A strange, half rotted cup lay at the edge of the water. He snatched it up. Calypso came into sight. Strange dark blood dripped into the water. Natasha's knives were still embedded in her arm. A cluster of arrows had penetrated her left eye. "You," she snarled.
Not good. What else, what else?
But there was no more time. Even if he could have scrounged up nine objects, it had taken the power of nine pirate lords the first time. What could one boy do?
He hurled the monkey's paw at her.
She snarled in irritation.
"Tia, it's me! It's Jack!"
"Son of my captors," she agreed. Her voice scraped against his ears painfully. "You will be the first to die."
"Son of the ocean. Son of freedom," he countered.
"But a Sparrow all the same."
Well, then. Talking had failed. Fighting was useless. There was nowhere left to run. Nowhere to hide. And feeling the pain in his stomach, he knew he was running out of time. The only question left was how he would die.
Jack reached up and touched his hat for luck. It was a good hat.
Then he charged, sword out, feet stumbling on the strange white surface. Calypso surged forward to meet him. She was stronger in the water. But then, so was he. His blood ran out and mingled with the water. Soon, so did hers. Jack and the sea. One and the same.
Two cannons rang out in quick succession.
Jack's hat drifted away.

Calypso watched the irritating boy charge. She felt it when his life's blood poured out into the water.
She was one of the old ones. She was harsh and cruel, but that didn't mean she loved her sons and daughters of the sea any less.
Bravely, he charged forward to die. His sword thrust up and bit into her chest.
An irritation, nothing more. She flung him away. He hit the wall of the tunnel and there was a sickening snap. He fell broken to the water, a toy no longer of use.
Yet out of respect, Calypso shrank. The pain of her wounds grew as she did. Blood rushed in greater quantities from her many wounds.
It took very little acting to collapse into the water. She ordered this form's pathetic heart to still.
Her son was gone. There was no further reason for her to stay.

Captain Morgan stood frozen as Will's increasingly frantic voice reported events.
"Captain! Captain!"
Others were shouting too. Dimly, he noticed the harsh lights that glared from the ceiling. Dimly, he heard the shouting as Peacekeepers pounded into the room and the pirates charged shouting challenges while the alarm blared. Dimly, he saw President Snow as he was clapped in irons and led away.
Dimly.

A/N: Just for clarification purposes: When Calypso refers to Jack as her son, she is speaking in a metaphorical sense.