A/N: Ok, I made up a few things about Bootstrap: He was a blacksmith
before he was a pirate, (dunno, seemed appropriate) Will's mother's name
was Catherine and he has long curly hair like Will. Not slash, Jack and
Bootstrap are JUST FRIENDS!!!! Though, if you want to think otherwise, go
right ahead. Warning: overly angsty and I think I made Bootstrap a bit of a
drama queen, though I can't say I wouldn't be under the circumstances.
Also, I know that the logical thing to do would be to simply take off his
boots, but (and I know I should've written this. *blush*) I assume his
hands were chained behind his back or something like that.
There is some controversy out there as to whether or not people under the
curse can feel pain. Barbossa didn't seem to feel any when he was stabbed,
(both times) but I noted while watching the movie that when any of the
other corpses are injured, they feel it. Ex: when a certain character is
impaled through the chest by Will and Elizabeth, he screams in apparent
agony. Also, the eyeball dude, (don't remember his name) was in pain when
Liz dropped the hot coals on him, so I'm just kinda winging it here.
Thanks to reviewers! All made very good points.
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The cruel afternoon sun beat down on my head and neck as the ship bobbed on the sea beneath me. The ocean sprayed on my face, but I did not feel it. My long, curly hair blew back, but I could not catch the sensation.
"Give my regards to Davie Jones, Bootstrap." Barbossa cackled, showing off the disgusting brown stubs he had for teeth.
"No need, you'll be meeting him sooner than you think, you sea rat." There was an uproar of laughter among the crew. Someone shoved me into the water and I barely had time to take a breath before I was dragged down by my boots.
I looked up at the sea surface as I sank. The water grew steadily colder and my lungs began to burn from lack of oxygen. It grew dimmer, and I caught a final glance at the light above me before it faded into nothingness.
My lungs turned to fire and screamed for air, but none would come. I was consumed by the darkness and the pain that I knew I would never be rid of.
I felt a jolt as I hit what I assumed was some kind of underwater mountain. I was only thankful that I was stopped before the water pressure got too great.
It had been but a few minutes and I already longed for death, for a release from the pain of drowning. All I could do to delay the madness I was certain would set in eventually was to keep myself from thinking of suffocating.
My mind traveled back years ago. I was no longer here, but with Captain Jack at the helm. I shut my eyes, trying to remember every detail- the smell of the salt in the air, the gentle sea breeze combing my hair.the sound of the waves crashing against the side of the Pearl. The sails were still black back then, but not riddled with holes as they were now. The entire ship fell apart under the command of Barbossa. There was at least three inches of water in the brig. The Black Pearl was no longer great and proud, but ghostly.
"I don't like the look of those clouds, Captain." I said to him, eyeing the horizon.
"You have to little faith, William. She'll hold." he said with a smirk.
"It could be the beginnings of a hurricane, sir- it's the right season." I replied doubtfully. His smile broadened and he looked over at me, an excited glint in his black eyes.
"William, caution is overrated. If you turned back every time there was danger in front of you, you'd still be in the old blacksmith's shop making swords and not using 'em. Ye might die young, but at least you will have lived, savvy?" There was a rumble of thunder in the distance and a flash of lightning.
"I ain't afraid of dyin', I'd just hate to lose the pearl to some ruddy storm we could've avoided." Jack chuckled heartily and put a hand on my shoulder.
"Yer a good man, William."
I cried out a silent scream in agony as my lungs contracted and I tried to distract myself again.
I remembered the evening after that so vividly. Barbossa called us all to the galley for a meeting. As soon as I heard the word 'mutiny' uttered among the whispers, I rushed out of the room and retreated to my cabin. I cursed myself for months afterwards for not going to warn Jack of their plans.
He gave the bearings to the Isla de Muerta to Barbossa that night. The storm blew us to a nearby island, and my last memory of him was of a dejected looking figure shrinking into the distance as we sailed off to the 'treasure'.
The crew later betrayed me, just as they betrayed Jack. I refused to call Barbossa 'captain' after he assumed command, and he didn't exactly hold me in the highest regard. I recalled the pleased glint in his eye as he gave the order to have me killed. But of course, I could not die- and yet I could not live. He had condemned me to an eternity of hell the rest of the crew did not have to endure, cursed as they were.
These thoughts drifted through my head for years, and I was engulfed not only in cold, pain and dark but in loneliness. The pain was unbearable and I knew I was going mad. If my lungs had not been filled with water, I would have been talking to myself- or screaming in pain. I often saw Jack before me and argued with him over whether or not to go around that storm ahead of us, while sharing with him a mug of ale. I saw Barbossa, and I laughed in his face as I told him again and again that he needed my blood to lift the curse while I lay here in the depths beyond any reach.
But most often, I saw Will and his mother. Oh, how I missed Catherine. Her smile lingered before me, so close that I could taste it, so warm and yet so distant and ghostly. I could still see her- her every feature. Her chocolate brown eyes and dark hair streaked with gold. I missed her warmth among the cold and her unconditional love that one does not see every day. She had always been living proof for me that there were angels in this world.
I missed Will, the child she had given me- though he was a grown man by now. I would love her forever for giving birth to my son. I adored him so much it was painful. No one can know true joy until they have had a child. He had his mother's eyes and her natural warmth. All I would need to remember Catherine was to look into his eyes. My heart broke every morning I awoke to remember that I was away from them. It could mend when I sent letters home and received the occasional response, but here in the depths of everything that was cold and desolate, it was irreparably shattered.
I couldn't distinguish the days from the nights, or winter from spring. No matter what I did or how I thought, it was always the dead of night in the middle of the winter.
Years passed that may as well have been centuries. My thoughts lingered on my son, and I wondered what he looked like, or even if he was still alive. A smile crept across my lips as I remembered holding him as a baby in the middle of the night, praying that he would get back to sleep. I remembered an occasion when he had woken up and begun crying. I walked in and picked him up from his crib to carry him around. He had looked up at me and the crying stopped abruptly. The look on his tiny face was curious and puzzled before it broke into a smile and a fit of giggles. I cherished the memory fondly for a moment before a great pain overtook me.
I had been drowning for a decade, but it suddenly felt final- and lethal. The heartbeat in my ears grew sluggish and I no longer struggled to breathe. I suddenly realized what was happening. I was dying- Will gave his blood and the curse was lifted. I closed my eyes and let go.
Thank you, son. THE END
------------------------------------------
The cruel afternoon sun beat down on my head and neck as the ship bobbed on the sea beneath me. The ocean sprayed on my face, but I did not feel it. My long, curly hair blew back, but I could not catch the sensation.
"Give my regards to Davie Jones, Bootstrap." Barbossa cackled, showing off the disgusting brown stubs he had for teeth.
"No need, you'll be meeting him sooner than you think, you sea rat." There was an uproar of laughter among the crew. Someone shoved me into the water and I barely had time to take a breath before I was dragged down by my boots.
I looked up at the sea surface as I sank. The water grew steadily colder and my lungs began to burn from lack of oxygen. It grew dimmer, and I caught a final glance at the light above me before it faded into nothingness.
My lungs turned to fire and screamed for air, but none would come. I was consumed by the darkness and the pain that I knew I would never be rid of.
I felt a jolt as I hit what I assumed was some kind of underwater mountain. I was only thankful that I was stopped before the water pressure got too great.
It had been but a few minutes and I already longed for death, for a release from the pain of drowning. All I could do to delay the madness I was certain would set in eventually was to keep myself from thinking of suffocating.
My mind traveled back years ago. I was no longer here, but with Captain Jack at the helm. I shut my eyes, trying to remember every detail- the smell of the salt in the air, the gentle sea breeze combing my hair.the sound of the waves crashing against the side of the Pearl. The sails were still black back then, but not riddled with holes as they were now. The entire ship fell apart under the command of Barbossa. There was at least three inches of water in the brig. The Black Pearl was no longer great and proud, but ghostly.
"I don't like the look of those clouds, Captain." I said to him, eyeing the horizon.
"You have to little faith, William. She'll hold." he said with a smirk.
"It could be the beginnings of a hurricane, sir- it's the right season." I replied doubtfully. His smile broadened and he looked over at me, an excited glint in his black eyes.
"William, caution is overrated. If you turned back every time there was danger in front of you, you'd still be in the old blacksmith's shop making swords and not using 'em. Ye might die young, but at least you will have lived, savvy?" There was a rumble of thunder in the distance and a flash of lightning.
"I ain't afraid of dyin', I'd just hate to lose the pearl to some ruddy storm we could've avoided." Jack chuckled heartily and put a hand on my shoulder.
"Yer a good man, William."
I cried out a silent scream in agony as my lungs contracted and I tried to distract myself again.
I remembered the evening after that so vividly. Barbossa called us all to the galley for a meeting. As soon as I heard the word 'mutiny' uttered among the whispers, I rushed out of the room and retreated to my cabin. I cursed myself for months afterwards for not going to warn Jack of their plans.
He gave the bearings to the Isla de Muerta to Barbossa that night. The storm blew us to a nearby island, and my last memory of him was of a dejected looking figure shrinking into the distance as we sailed off to the 'treasure'.
The crew later betrayed me, just as they betrayed Jack. I refused to call Barbossa 'captain' after he assumed command, and he didn't exactly hold me in the highest regard. I recalled the pleased glint in his eye as he gave the order to have me killed. But of course, I could not die- and yet I could not live. He had condemned me to an eternity of hell the rest of the crew did not have to endure, cursed as they were.
These thoughts drifted through my head for years, and I was engulfed not only in cold, pain and dark but in loneliness. The pain was unbearable and I knew I was going mad. If my lungs had not been filled with water, I would have been talking to myself- or screaming in pain. I often saw Jack before me and argued with him over whether or not to go around that storm ahead of us, while sharing with him a mug of ale. I saw Barbossa, and I laughed in his face as I told him again and again that he needed my blood to lift the curse while I lay here in the depths beyond any reach.
But most often, I saw Will and his mother. Oh, how I missed Catherine. Her smile lingered before me, so close that I could taste it, so warm and yet so distant and ghostly. I could still see her- her every feature. Her chocolate brown eyes and dark hair streaked with gold. I missed her warmth among the cold and her unconditional love that one does not see every day. She had always been living proof for me that there were angels in this world.
I missed Will, the child she had given me- though he was a grown man by now. I would love her forever for giving birth to my son. I adored him so much it was painful. No one can know true joy until they have had a child. He had his mother's eyes and her natural warmth. All I would need to remember Catherine was to look into his eyes. My heart broke every morning I awoke to remember that I was away from them. It could mend when I sent letters home and received the occasional response, but here in the depths of everything that was cold and desolate, it was irreparably shattered.
I couldn't distinguish the days from the nights, or winter from spring. No matter what I did or how I thought, it was always the dead of night in the middle of the winter.
Years passed that may as well have been centuries. My thoughts lingered on my son, and I wondered what he looked like, or even if he was still alive. A smile crept across my lips as I remembered holding him as a baby in the middle of the night, praying that he would get back to sleep. I remembered an occasion when he had woken up and begun crying. I walked in and picked him up from his crib to carry him around. He had looked up at me and the crying stopped abruptly. The look on his tiny face was curious and puzzled before it broke into a smile and a fit of giggles. I cherished the memory fondly for a moment before a great pain overtook me.
I had been drowning for a decade, but it suddenly felt final- and lethal. The heartbeat in my ears grew sluggish and I no longer struggled to breathe. I suddenly realized what was happening. I was dying- Will gave his blood and the curse was lifted. I closed my eyes and let go.
Thank you, son. THE END