Eternity and the Sparrow

So, here is the update. I’m a little slow, but I’m always a little slow, so there’s no need to be repetitive. Here it is, enjoy.

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Will surfaced a few feet from the hull of his ship.

“Line!” He yelled up.

Nothing dropped and no one answered. It was strange. He hadn’t been gone that long, had he?

“Jack? Maccus? Bill?”

He sighed. It was simple enough to climb up the side of the ship, but it would be a lot easier if his crew was paying attention. Will grumbled as he grabbed an edge and hauled himself up. Water sloughed off him in sheets, the weight of his wet clothing slowing him down only slightly. Somebody would get chewed out over this.

Halfway up the hull, Will’s ears perked at the sound of loud arguing. The sharp twang of steel clashing against steel spurred him to rush up the last few feet of the ship.

He paused just below the railing. He had no gun and no sword, having left both on the deck so he could swim. If it was a spat between his men, he, hopefully, wouldn’t need his sword, but if it was something else, he didn’t want to jump into the fray unarmed.

Will shimmied around the edge of the boat towards the bow. His things should have gone unnoticed, no matter what was going on above him. An unfamiliar voice rose over the others and he paused to listen.

“Get out of my way you scabby dogs!”

As Will rounded the edge of the hull, another ship came into view. It was anchored a few hundred yards away. Pirate colors flew with its sails, colors Will recognized. It was a boat he’d seen in Shipwreck Cove and at the battle with the East India Trading Company.

Will stretched up just enough to peer over the edge of the deck. Several dozen enemies had gathered on the Dutchman, but they were at a standstill. His men were gathered near the helm while the others were clustered behind three central figures; Gentleman Jocard, Mistress Ching, and Captain Chevalle.

“Out of the way, our fight is not with you!” Jocard bellowed at the men standing between him and Jack (who seemed perfectly content to let them fight his battle).

Bootstrap was at the forefront of those protecting Jack, as the first mate, he was the one to speak for Will’s men, “You’re not taking anyone or anything from this ship. Leave now or we’ll tear you apart.”

Will slipped an arm through to grab his sword and gun. He left his boots, because there wouldn’t be enough time to get them on. He was going to have splinters from hell later. He strapped on his gun and swung over the railing.

“What the hell are you doing on my ship?!”

Every pair of eyes turned towards him, and there was a pause before Gentleman Jocard muscled his way through the pirates. He eyed Will, sizing him up.

“Your ship?” He laughed, “You’re just a boy.” His laughter stopped short as something crossed his mind. His eyes widened and he peered at William more closely. “I shot you.”

There was no way the boy could have survived; Jocard had shot him dead square in the chest. On his bare flesh, clear as day, was the small circular scar confirming that he’d hit him.

Jack chose that moment to perk up, “And I still owe ye for that!”

Jocard turned a nasty glare at Jack and the eccentric pirate shrank back.

“But… I’m sure we can settle that later,” Jack slurred, more to himself than Jocard.

The Frenchman, Chevalle, added his own thoughts, “The Gentleman is right, he did shoot you. How did you survive such a wound to the chest? It should have turned your heart into pig slop.”

“That would be an issue, if I had one,” Will said smartly, drawing his sword. “Now, I want you off of my ship or I’ll let my men feed you to the sharks.” Not that he’d seen any in the water.

“We have three times the men that you do, what makes you so threatening boy?” Jocard yelled.

He dismissed the fact that Will seemed indestructible. Perhaps the boy was luckier than any man he’d ever known, but they’d chased the Pearl for weeks looking for Jack and no haughty lad was going to stand in their way. Jack would die and he, Jocard, would become the next pirate king.

Will’s men went into an uproar. The Pirate Lords may have brought more manpower, but they wouldn’t go down in a fight!

“This is the Dutchman you bilge rats! We are the scourge of the sea and something you’ve all feared in the past! Jones may be gone, but we can still collect your souls!” Bill bellowed.

The other immortal pirates took up the chorus. This bastard wasn’t going to come aboard their ship and start throwing insults around.

“You may have us outnumbered three to one, but we don’t die! Changes your odds, doesn’t it?!”

The tension in the air was wound tighter than the catgut on a violin. The slightest trigger would send the pirate brothers into a raging blood bath and it wasn’t something any Captain really wanted. Steel should not be used against a brother, but against an enemy. The Code saw to that. Only those who violated the Code deserved to be struck down by another pirate’s hand.

At least, that was the theory.

Mistress Ching’s sharp voice cut through the useless bickering like a well-maintained katana, “Enough!” The arguments ceased immediately and she spoke in the following silence, directing her words at William, “We are not fools boy. A fight here would only waste lives and resources. You are the one who replaced Jones, are you not?”

“I am.”

That would explain the brat’s inability to die… Jocard bit back any comments he may have been waiting to release. Perhaps it was best not to test the next Davy Jones.

Ching continued, speaking slowly and evenly to help keep her English understandable, “We can come to some kind of arrangement without spilling blood. All we want is Sparrow and we’ll leave you and your shipmates to do as you will.”

Will raised an eyebrow and put away his sword. “You want to make a deal… for Jack?” He sent a glance in his lover’s direction, who returned it with a quizzical expression.

There was no way the lad would give him up. Although, thinking back over his relationship with the boy, he hadn’t always been the best model of loyalty. He had given him over to Jones to get the key to the chest, but he hadn’t exactly told William that. As far as the boy knew, he’d surrendered him to pay back his debt. Will may have figured it out later, but it was still something the lad grilled him about.

And there was the time he was going to use him as leverage against Barbossa… and the other time that he… Now Jack was worried… But Will wasn’t that much like him, was he?

“What do you have to offer?”

He was doomed.

Ching smiled broadly, pleased. “I have some of the finest treasure from around the world, riches you’ve probably never laid eyes on before,” she boasted proudly. “It all depends on how much you think the scoundrel is worth.”

Will crossed his arms and thought about it for a moment. He shot a look to his lover, along with a reassuring wink, and turned his gaze back to the scourge of China, “It’s a fine offer, but what good is treasure to me? I can only set foot on land for one day every decade, how would I spend it?”

The woman’s sure smile faded. He had a good point, but there had to be alternatives, “You have a fine crew, perhaps your men could go ashore for you and purchase anything you needed.”

Will wasn’t normally very good with words. In fact, he could get himself into more trouble with them, but he had a plan this time. “But why would I send them ashore to buy things when they could steal whatever supplies we need?”

Ching was getting visibly frustrated. Her lips pressed together until they were white, and her thin, well maintained brows knit, making her carefully-covered wrinkles more prominent. Despite her obvious anger, she kept her voice surprisingly smooth, “Every pirate wants treasure, boy, even if they don’t spend it. Isn’t that the point of pirating?”

“Ah, but my crew isn’t here to collect treasure, our purpose is to collect souls.”

Jocard cut in, impatient with their banter, “Then we will trade another man for him. One of our pirates for one of yours, would that not be a fair deal?”

“Well,” the Captain of the Dutchman paused. It was fair, by most standards, so he would need to think up a good answer to dissuade the offer. “Technically, Jack isn’t part of my crew, so that’s not a trade I can make.”

Jack sighed and sat down on the edge of a nearby cannon, feeling a lot like an item up for auction. He knew Will’s game now, and the boy wouldn’t be giving him up, but Jack wondered why they didn’t just kill the Pirate Lords. It’s not like Will would lose any men and it would save a lot of breath.

Then Jack could take one of their ships to replace the Pearl! Though, no ship could truly replace the Pearl… Jack’s heart sunk. He really needed a drink.

Out past the starboard side, several hundred yards away from the Dutchman, a massive dark shape caused the water to swell. It broke the surface briefly, showing a flash of smooth, eel-like skin. Jack noticed the movement out of the corner of his eye, but, when he turned to search the waters, he saw nothing. He chalked it up as his nerves and turned back to the increasingly heated argument between Jocard and William.

“Jack is also a Captain, so unless you’re willing to offer up yourself, I don’t see this being fair. You’ve got nothing to offer me.”

“Be reasonable you little-”

Will put his hand over the hilt of his sword and Gentleman Jocard stopped just before the insult left his mouth.

“Get off my ship,” Will growled at them. His crew advanced on the intruders, threatening them with their swords and pistols. The other pirates looked to their Captain’s for orders.

Chevalle was the first to back out, “Back to the boats.”

Jocard grabbed the Frenchman’s lace collar, “We don’t retreat.”

“Unlike you, I know when I’m beat,” Chevalle snapped and slapped the bigger man’s hand away. “Pull back to the boats.”

Mistress Ching followed suit and ordered her men back. Jocard was more hesitant to do so, but as his backup disappeared on dinghies and swung back to their ships on lines, his resolve faltered. He cursed profusely and glared at Jack, “This isn’t over Sparrow!”

“Like I haven’t heard that before,” Jack answered under his breath.

The last of the pirates left the ship in snatches and Will crossed the deck to pick up his boots and shirt. William watched the hordes return to their respective boats, wondering how long it would be until they came back. They wouldn’t give up easily. Perhaps they could plead with Captain Teague to add another line to the Code restricting what the Lords could do to their king.

Breath ghosted across Will’s cheek and he couldn’t suppress his smile. “What will you do when you don’t have me here to protect you?” Will teased softly.

“Die, I’d suspect. Or get on like I did before I met the likes of ye.”

A great, bellowing screech cut through their conversation, a sound very much like rending metal. Will and Jack turned in unison as a beast rose from the water; its gaping maw released a long hiss.

“That’s interestin’,” Jack murmured.

It was a long, thin beast with spine-like appendages forking off its body. Sitting atop the muscular, stringy body was a long head covered in bony prominences and full of teeth. The creature’s smooth green skin gleamed in the Caribbean sun, giving its flesh a bluish sheen. The tiny slits that Will assumed were eyes seemed to come to rest on them.

The crew broke into a frenzy.

“Sea serpent!” someone hollered, like the rest of the men couldn’t figure it out for themselves.

Pistols went off all over the ship and several wounds opened across the beast’s long body. It only took notice when a bullet glanced across its head, causing it to hiss fiercely. The man who’d made the shot screamed as the beast slammed down on him faster than an eye blink and snapped him into its jaws. Bone crunched and blood oozed between the creature’s teeth. Immortal or no, it was doubtful that he’d come back from that.

It swallowed the first mouthful of pirate, turning back to the others with a venomous gleam in its eye. William Turner pulled his men out of their shocked stupor with one order, “To the cannons!”

One of the other ships floating nearby seemed to have the same idea and a cannon ball whistled through the air towards them. The large slug of metal rocketed into the water a few feet from the beast, tossing the sea into the sky.

The serpent turned away from the Dutchman, giving her crew plenty of time to prepare their guns, but it crashed back into the choppy waves before they got the chance to fire. The dark shape of the snake whipped through the water faster than any pirate vessel had ever dreamed of traveling. Will tried to follow it with his gaze, judging the beast to span at about seventy or eighty feet in length.

“Hold your fire!” He yelled at his men. “We won’t hit it from here, so don’t waste the cannon-shot.”

It burst from the water near the ship that had fired upon it and tore through her main mast. The tall structure crashed onto the deck, taking down the foremast in its descent. The beast curled its long body around the boat, snapping up any man it could get to. The pirates began to flee the vessel like rats and jumped off any edge they could. The ocean was soon full of small figures swimming for the nearby safety of the other ships.

“Isn’t that Jocard’s ship?” Will leaned into Jack to ask.

The man grinned broadly, showing every one of his gold-capped teeth, and nodded as he watched the boat go under. “It is indeed.”

Will glanced over at him and mentioned, “Well, I wouldn’t smile quite so much. It could do that to us.”

Jack’s smirk faded instantly. “Shouldn’t we be shooting it… or something? You’re the one in charge here, whelp, give some orders.”

“Not yet.”

“What do ye mean ‘not yet’, do need it to be biting yer ass before ye shoot at it?!”

“No, I just need it to be closer.”

Will jumped up onto the railing to get a better look at things.

The beast seemed satisfied with the damage it had done to Jocard’s schooner and sunk beneath the water. This was the moment that Chevalle decided to turn tail and flee. He tacked in favor of the wind and tried to put as much distance between his boat and the monster as possible. The beast swirled under the waves, moving towards the Frenchman.

Will turned to the gunman nearest him, “Fire.”

The man gave him a confused look and peered out at the water, “But sir, you said not to waste the shot. There’s no way we’ll hit him.”

“I don’t want to hit him, I just want his attention.”

“Isn’t that the opposite of what we want?” Jack asked with a rather wild hand gesture. “I say, let him eat the Frenchy and we haul anchor and head the other direction. I’ve never been very fond of the man anyway… he’s a bit too… French for me.”

“Fire.”

The man didn’t argue at the second order and touched his punk to the cannon’s wick. The shot exploded in a cloud of white smoke and the cannon rolled backwards into its anchor ropes. It flew as far as a large hunk of metal could before dropping into the water a few feet behind the serpent.

The dark shadow beneath the sea stopped.

“I think that got its attention, what now?” Jack posed in the least confrontational voice he could muster.

“Now, let’s just hope we can kill it before it kills us.”

“That’s the plan?!”

A crease formed in Will’s brow when he thought about how hopeless the idea sounded. “Um… yes.”

The beast was faster in the water than any shark or dolphin and they were expecting to hit it with cannon shot. It did seem a bit desperate. Said beast had turned beneath the water and was now headed straight for them.

“Ye’ve gone mad,” Jack muttered.

Will smiled and hopped off the rail, returning, “Mad like you, Jack.” He left the pirate with that and went back to the helm. “Haul the anchor and ready the cannons!”

Jack Sparrow thought about the whelp’s words. He wasn’t that crazy, was he? Sure he got drunk plenty, but what pirate didn’t? No time to think about that now.

Every cannon on the starboard side took aim. If the creature didn’t come to the surface before it struck them, there’d be no hitting it at all. The shots would just go wild in the water and lose all their speed.

The beast was about hundred yards from them and closing fast.

“Break the water,” William whispered a quiet plea to any god who might be listening.

When it reached fifty yards, his crew got nervous. There wasn’t much that could make the Dutchman’s pirates twitchy, but this thing was like the Kraken and he had been no easy beast to kill.

Twenty-five yards, and Jack could feel the sweat running down his neck. He’d really rather not return to the Locker by way of beastie. The first occasion really hadn’t been all that pleasant.

At fifteen yards, the creature’s head broke the surface of the water and it rose up like an Indian cobra.

“Fire!” Will and Jack yelled at once, but the sailors barely needed the order.

A half-second after the word died on the air every cannon was blazing. Shots landed all around the beast in a storm of seawater, but a lucky few ripped into its body. The monster screeched and tossed its head into the air. The sound was deafening, and pirates would later claim they could smell rotting fish when it roared.

The crew raced to reload before the beast collected itself and attacked again, but they hardly had time enough to draw breath. The monster’s tail smashed across the line of their cannons, tossing men and metal alike.

Jack leapt back from the attack and dodged across the main deck to the Dutchman’s port side. One of the creature’s coils slammed into the deck ahead of him, missing him by inches. He climbed over the obstacle. While the beast was occupied trying to eat Will’s men, he cut through a port cannon’s ties and got it turned about. Hoping it was loaded, Jack snatched up a stray light and touched it to the wick.

“Smile pretty,” Jack whispered.

The shot flew brilliantly, tearing through the beast’s thick neck and coming clean out the opposite side. The monster bellowed, falling back into the sea before they could do any more damage.

Half a dozen faces peered over the Dutchman’s side at the gurgling water. Deep crimson welled up out of the depths, the only sign of the creature that attacked them. No one dared speak a word of it in fear that it would return from the depths upon hearing them. Muscles tensed and trembled in preparation for another assault.

Will joined those brave enough to stand at the edge, “Is it dead?”

Bootstrap was the one to answer him, “A beast like that does not perish easily.”

Jack reached to set the punk back down on the cannon, but his hand met with nothing but air. He turned his obsidian gaze away from William’s ass (why the hell did the boy have to lean on the railing like that?) and took in an empty void where the cannon had been. He didn’t really need to wonder where it had gone, because the broken balustrade behind the void gave him a very good idea.

Jack leaned slowly to glance over into the water, but there was no sign of the gun. There was a reason they kept cannons tied down… Recoil could be a terrible thing.

“Whelp?”

Jack looked up but the boy apparently hadn’t heard him. He and his father were discussing the nature of beasties and were rather involved in the conversation. Captain Sparrow grumbled slightly and picked his way across the wreckage. It was his firm opinion that, if the whelp didn’t notice that one of his cannons was missing, then who was he to give him the bad news.

He was about to call the whelp’s name, but something furry dropped onto his shoulders, turning the call into a yell. The distressed yowl had the nervous crew on their toes instantly. Guns and swords were drawn and eyes dashed across the ship to find the new foe.

Will whipped around to find Jack flailing about in a circle trying to grab hold the brown creature on his back. It was hard to tell exactly what it was, but it had a firm hold on the pirate and had no intention of letting go. William tried to take aim but Jack’s wild movements threatened to put him in the line of the bullet if he wasn’t careful.

“Sit still Jack!”

Jack took no heed and continued to run about the ship. The creature bit down on the back of Sparrow’s neck, whether it was a malicious act or because the thing was frightened, one couldn’t be sure. Jack yelled at the sharp pain and managed to snag a furry appendage. The little terror wouldn’t let go easily, but one solid tug and Jack managed to throw it to the deck. He pulled out his pistol and put a bullet in it.

The slug of lead barely seemed to affect the small beast and it scurried into the rigging. It was only then that anyone got a good look at it.

Jack rubbed the sore spot on his neck, glaring at the smirking creature, “Damn monkey.”

Jack the monkey quirked his head to the side and gave a chattering screech. The undead creature didn’t seem to be any worse for wear, considering it had now survived the sinking of two pirate ships and more than a plethora of bullets.

“I hate that monkey.”

Will came up beside him to peer into the rigging, “At least he’s good for stress relief. Who else do you get to shoot when you get mad?”

“Good point.”

Jack rubbed the back of his neck again. At least the monkey hadn’t drawn blood; a wound out at sea could prove to be quite deadly. Infection set in fast if a pirate wasn’t careful.

“I’m beginning to think ye’re bad luck, boy,” Jack mentioned as he turned away from the pleased monkey.

Will gave him a sidelong glance. “And why’s that?”

“Because that’s the second beastie I’ve run into since I met ye and I didn’t have much problem with them before this.”

The boy shook his head, not bothering to respond.

Bootstrap Bill brought his Captain and son the report on the ship, “Well, she’s pretty banged up, but she’ll sail just fine until we can stop to fix her. I’d pray that it doesn’t rain, ‘cause she’ll take on water through the deck. Otherwise, I think we can have her in top shape in a few days.”

“Good,” Will answered. “And the other ships?”

“The Gentleman’s ship finally went under, but Captain Chevalle and Mistress Ching have managed to get away.”

Letting the shroud of the Captain fall back into place, Will dished out orders and got the crew moving. He then dismissed his first mate with a smile and a nod. They tacked the sails and hoisted the anchor, getting on their way in case the serpent came back. In its current shape, the Dutchman might not survive a second encounter with that beast.

“Captain Sparrow, would you join me at the helm?” Will asked curtly and vaulted up the stairs.

Jack followed the boy with a smile. Being a Captain was indeed second nature to the lad, but it didn’t always fit him. Some phrases just held no weight coming out of William’s mouth, especially to one who knew him well.

The whelp kicked over a crate and unrolled the bamboo puzzle-map on top of it. “We’re going to need your compass.”

Jack pulled the device off his belt. “Do ye have any idea how to read that?” He asked, motioning at the map.

“No, I was hoping you knew more about it than I did.”

The older pirate flipped the map around and turned several of the flat circles. He brought the Aqua de Vida into line then flipped open the compass that doesn’t point north. The needle swung madly before settling on the whelp.

Jack growled and gave the compass a good shake. He wouldn’t be able to keep the boy if he couldn’t become immortal, so the damn thing needed to point at the Fountain before it could point at the lad. He knew he wanted William; he really didn’t need help with that anymore.

With enough mental griping, the compass slowly swung round to give them a southerly direction.

“Well, there you have it. We must be coming down on the fountain from up here somewhere,” Jack slid his index finger along the upper portions of the map just above the Aqua de Vida. He tried to make it sound convincing, like he knew exactly what he was talking about.

Will smirked and let him blow his hot air. “Alright then,” he said and glanced at the compass, “You keep watch on the heading and let me know if it changes.” The lad took the helm. “Let’s go find your immortality.”

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For weeks, the Flying Dutchman traveled the seas. It passed to the Locker when necessary, doing its job there, and then returning to the trek south. The crew did repairs to her on quiet days to keep themselves occupied, but when she was in top shape, they found other ways to pass the time.

Dice was the favorite diversion among the sailors, but the Dutchman’s Captain and his lover kept themselves occupied in a less traditional fashion. Bootstrap would watch the helm while they were gone, retiring for rest and a bit of leisure himself when Will returned.

It was in this manner that the Flying Dutchman passed off the known maps and into uncharted waters. They entered the portion of the map that read ‘here there be monsters’. Will would have thought it to be a load of piratical superstition, had they not already encountered their first monster. He and his crew kept a wary eye out for any other such creatures.

A terrible tropical storm whipped up on their second week, tossing the Dutchman like she was just a plaything. The crew hung on for deal life as the waves crashed all around them. Lightning lanced through the sky in fiery tendrils and the following thunder was louder than the voice of god. When the tempest had finally passed, everyone onboard was ready to have some solid ground under their feet, even Will. But the lad wouldn’t feel solid ground for many years yet.

The little bit of water they’d managed to gather during the storm lasted another few days before Jack (being the only mortal human being on the ship) had to resort to rum for hydration. He had no complaints. It wasn’t until the food supplies ran low that he had any problems.

Jack leaned at the helm with William, starring at the needle that never seemed to waver. “I’m beginning to think that this place might be imaginary,” the older pirate mentioned offhandedly. He took another swig from his rum bottle and snapped the compass closed.

“I’m beginning to agree with you,” William answered.

Against his better judgment, he snagged the bottle from Jack’s hand and took a drink as well. He wrinkled his nose at the taste, but had another hit before he passed it back. “I don’t understand how you can drink that stuff.”

“I suppose its an acquired taste. I suspect you’ll like it better when you get olde-” Jack bit off the tail-end of his sentence. “Although, I guess you won’t be getting any older.”

Will got very quiet, forcing Jack to barrel on.

“I mean, and what are ye really missing there? Sure ye’ll never grow any chest hair and that scraggly thing ye call a beard won’t get to lookin’ like an actual beard, but they’re a bit overrated anyway… It’s not like ye got stuck in puberty…” Jack trailed off, not sure he was helping any. He snuck a look at the boy through the corner of his eye and was relieved to find a slight smile on his face.

“Not that you’d know anything about chest hair,” Will mocked quietly. “You don’t exactly have any.”

Jack scoffed as though offended, “I do so have chest hair!”

Will raised an eyebrow at him, giving Jack his best ‘oh really’ look. “I don’t think a sprinkling of hairs really counts for anything. Most men who are proud of their hair look like they killed a small bear and glued it to their chest. You, Jack, are a far cry from that.”

The man next to him opened his mouth as if to argue, but found no comeback. Instead, he screwed his face into a quizzically thoughtful expression and glanced down at the smooth expanse of skin peeking through his shirt.

“Damn,” he muttered. The lad was right, he had no hair.

Will chuckled, “Why are we even having this discussion?”

“Can ye think of something else to babble on?”

“Not really.”

“Then there you have it-” the rest of Jack’s words died before leaving his lips when the monkey decided to use his back as a springboard. A curse slipped out instead and he looked up to yell something obscene at the small creature. That, too, never made it out of his mouth, for clutched in the animal’s tiny hands was Jack’s prized hat.

“Me hat!” Jack yelped and scrambled after the mischievous mammal.

The long-tailed simian cackled happily to be receiving some attention, dragging the tri-corn up into the rigging. Jack was hot on his heels, but wasn’t nearly as quick in the rope system as the animal. The monkey stopped when it got too far ahead and screeched and jeered until the pirate was almost within reach. Jack swiped at it, but it scuttled farther up the lines.

Will rolled his chocolate-brown eyes and tried to give his companion some advice, knowing full well that it would fall on deaf ears, “Leave it alone Jack. When he get’s bored, he’ll drop your hat.”

As expected, Mr. Sparrow didn’t listen. He continued to curse and stay just one step behind the furry creature.

“There’s no way you can catch him up there.”

Bootstrap came up to the quarterdeck and followed his boy’s gaze. “What in all the hells is Jack doin’?” It was truly curious behavior, even for Captain Sparrow.

“The monkey stole his hat,” the younger Turner explained.

“Ah,” Bill laughed heartily and got seated on the crate that should have been carried into the lower decks some time ago. “Then he’ll be up there until one of them gets tired.”

“You’ve known Jack longer than I have, has he always been this stubborn?”

“Absolutely.”

Feeling his father had more to say, Will looped a rope over one of the helm’s spokes and sat beside the older man.

Bill continued with an amused edge to his voice, “Once that man get’s something in his head, he’ll not let it go. That goes the same for possessions too. If Jack decides that somethin’ belongs to him, there’s not a man, beast, or monster that can stand in his way. He’s been that way since the first day I met him.”

William took the opportunity to settle an old curiosity, “How did you meet him?”

“I suppose I should first start by telling you that I haven’t always been a pirate,” Bill began, getting a distant look in his eyes. “I left England shortly after you were born. I thought I could earn some money for us in the Caribbean, but I didn’t anticipate how hard things would be. I got myself into trouble very quickly, incurring some debt with one of the plantation owners, so I ran. I wound up in the port of Tortuga, hoping I could barter my way onto a ship heading back to Europe, but I found that the only ships that made birth there were-”

“Pirate ships,” Will finished softly.

His father nodded and continued, “As you probably know, Tortuga isn’t always a friendly place if you are a pirate, so you’d be a damn fool to go there if you weren’t. I tried to blend with the crowd there, but it didn’t take long for someone to recognize me as an outsider. They knew exactly what they were going to do with me.” Bill emphasized the meaning by slashing his thumb across his throat. “That’s when Jack showed up. He saved my neck and offered me work on his ship, which was still his then. It was rumored that he’d made a deal with Davy Jones himself to become Captain of the Black Pearl… which turned out to be much more than a rumor. I was only on Jack’s ship about two years when his first mate decided to toss him overboard. I stayed quiet because I knew Barbossa would have me killed as well, but it wasn’t until we became cursed men that I figured out how to avenge him.”

“That’s when you sent the Aztec gold to me.”

“Aye, that’s when I sent you part of the treasure. Since they needed all of the pieces to break the curse, I sent one of mine to you so they could never get out of the punishment that they deserved as mutinous men. Well, that made Barbossa furious and they tossed me overboard as well… Boy…” Bootstrap faltered and ran a hand through his hair. “Boy, whatever happened to your mother?”

Will took a very keen interest in his boots. He hadn’t thought about his mother in a very long time and he really didn’t want to bring her back to mind now. He avoided the question with a sharp query of his own, “When you decided to become a pirate, did you ever even think about coming home again? Or were you so wrapped up in your new life that your old one was forgotten?”

Bill winced, seeming to suffer almost a physical blow at the boy’s words. His son regretted them immediately. “I thought about you and your mother every waking hour in the day, wondering when I could get home again. I hoped that pirating would earn me enough money to buy passage back to the both of you,” he admitted bitterly and got up. Becoming a pirate had not been his proudest moment, but he’d done it regrettably as a last choice. Bootstrap started back down the stairs, but his son’s voice made him pause.

“She died.”

Bill turned back.

“A few years after you sent me the gold, she got sick and never got better,” William’s voice cracked just slightly, but he continued, “It was during my sixth or seventh winter. Mother couldn’t ever seem to get warm and ended up in bed for several weeks. When she stopped working, we didn’t have enough money to pay the doctor and he wouldn’t come to see her. I tried to pay him with the Aztec gold, but he didn’t think it was real. Then one morning, I just couldn’t get her to wake up…” When the lad looked up, his features were strained. “That’s when I came to find you.”

Bootstrap’s insides felt like they’d been shot with a cannon ball. He crossed back to his boy, but wasn’t sure what to do. His hand hovered over Will’s slumped shoulders. How much affection was too much at this point in William’s life? Was he too old for a hug? Would he push him away? He was still torn when his Captain spoke again.

“She stood at the window all the time when I was little. She would stand there and talk about you, like you were this great conquering hero that would come around the corner any minute. For a long time, I believed her.”

Bill pulled his hand away. “I’m sorry lad,” the older man managed to mutter. The boy had grown into a man without him, and there was no room for his affection now. It was the sullenness in Will’s voice that kept his father at bay.

Their tense moment was split in two by a loud voice from the rigging. “Land ho!” Jack shouted with a laugh. Every pair of eyes turned to see a slim strip of green on the horizon. It was a very beautiful sight after so many days at sea.

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TBC