A small boat slid through the bayou swamps of Cuba, its hull whispering through dark, stagnant water. Mangroves crowded in close, roots clawing up from the mud, moss hanging like curtains. The air was thick, damp, alive with unseen movement.
Jack sat near the edge, boots braced, eyes drifting—again—to the third man in the boat.
"Umm," Jack said at last, breaking the silence, "so why didn't we kill this guy?"
The guy sat stiffly between them. Middle-aged. Man. Ordinary at first glance.
He was anything but.
This was Davy Jones—stripped of the sea, stripped of the curse that once bound him to the depths. No tentacles. No barnacles. Just flesh, breath… and eyes that had seen too much.
Daniel didn't look at Jack. His attention stayed on the winding swamp ahead as the boat eased forward.
"Because death would've been mercy."
Jack frowned thoughtfully. "Ah. Right. And we're not in a merciful mood."
Daniel finally glanced at the man beside him. "I removed the curse that tied him to the ocean." His voice was calm, deliberate. "Then I gave him a new one."
He didn't kill him.
That would've been too easy.
Instead, Daniel cursed him with immortality—the annoying kind. The kind where you can't die unless a god personally decides to step in. Daniel figured a far better punishment than death. More… educational.
The boat drifted deeper into the swamp, water sloshing lazily against the sides. Something splashed nearby and disappeared before anyone could get a good look. Fireflies flickered around them, then abruptly went dark as they passed, like even they didn't want to be involved.
Jones shifted, clearly uncomfortable.
"So," he said at last, eyeing Daniel warily, "what exactly are you planning to do to me?"
He didn't trust gods. Never had. Their emotions were unpredictable, messy, and usually ended with someone cursed for eternity. He'd learned that the hard way with one goddess already.
Daniel just smiled faintly, letting the boat keep drifting.
"Oh," he said casually, "nothing fun. That's the fun part."
The boat nudged against the mangrove roots, and Daniel looked up at the massive tree rising from the swamp. The treehouse perched high above, lantern light glowing faintly through the hanging moss.
Jack followed his gaze—and then froze.
"Oh," Jack said slowly, a crooked grin spreading across his face. "Oh, I see it now."
Daniel glanced at him. "You approve?"
Jack let out a low whistle. "Approve? This is inspired." He looked back at Jones, whose expression had tightened the moment the tree came into view. "You know who lives here, don't you, mate?"
Jones said nothing. He didn't need to. His eyes were already fixed on the treehouse, jaw clenched, memories clearly stirring.
Jack chuckled under his breath. "Right. That answers that."
Daniel didn't waste time. He grabbed Jones by the arm and hauled him toward the base of the tree. Jones struggled briefly, pride flaring, but it was pointless. Within moments, they were climbing—Daniel effortlessly, Jones dragged along whether he liked it or not.
At the top, the door creaked open before Daniel could knock.
"Jack Sparrow," came a familiar, amused voice. "You've brought company. How… unexpected."
Tia Dalma stood in the doorway, eyes bright, smile playful, dreadlocks adorned with beads and trinkets that chimed softly as she moved.
Her gaze slid from Jack… to Daniel… and then stopped dead on Jones.
The smile vanished.
For a heartbeat, the swamp seemed to hold its breath.
"Davy," she said quietly.
Jones stiffened. "Calypso."
Jack took a careful step back. "Ah. Right. I'll just… stand over here."
The air between them crackled—centuries of betrayal, love, and fury packed into a single look.
Tia Dalma stepped forward, eyes blazing. "You dare come here?"
Before Jones could answer, Daniel spoke, his voice calm but cutting.
"He's not here by choice," Daniel said. "And before either of you gets sentimental—he's also the one who helped the First Brethren Court bind you into human form."
Silence.
Then—
"You did what?" Tia Dalma hissed, rounding on him, her voice low and dangerous.
Jones didn't retreat. His jaw tightened, old anger surging to the surface. "You betrayed me."
Her eyes flared. "I was bound, imprisoned, stripped of my power—because of you."
"I did what I had to," Jones shot back. "You made promises, Calypso. Promises you did not keep."
A bitter laugh tore from her. "Promises?" she spat. "You speak of promises, when you were the first to break faith?"
"I waited," Jones said, his voice cracking despite himself. "Ten years. A hundred years. I loved you—and you abandoned me."
Tia Dalma's expression flickered, pain bleeding through her fury. "You wanted me caged," she said.
Daniel watched the scene with a smile.
Yes. This was exactly the punishment Jones deserved. Sometimes, a house and a lover were the most effective prison imaginable.
"It's always… entertaining," Daniel remarked dryly, "watching domestic disputes of this caliber."
Jack winced as another round of shouting erupted behind them. "Mate," he said, lowering his voice, "how do you even come up with ideas like this?"
Daniel glanced at him. "Experience."
Jack eyed him suspiciously. "That answer worries me."
Daniel's lips curved slightly. "What—want to try one of my plans someday?"
Jack didn't even pause. "No."
He took two deliberate steps away from Daniel.
*****
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