Disclaimer: "Love, that is a dinghy. My ship is magnificent and fierce and huge-ish. And gone. Why is it gone?"

(An: I know that technically Elizabeth never had command of the Pearl, but… well… it's funnier this way.)

Gasping, Elizabeth leaned over the side of the ship. "I never got seasick, not even as a child," she murmured, wiping her mouth.

Gibbs locked his hands behind his back and refused to look her in the eye as he said, "Well, ah, Captain… it has been a few weeks since last you saw Mr. Turner."

"And…?"

Gibbs toed the ground, turning red. Elizabeth slowly turned to face him as he mumbled something like, "The sea ain't the only thing that could make you sick." Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "Captain…" Gibbs turned redder. "This is something for another woman to be talking to you about… where did Ragetti get to?"

"Mr. Gibbs, what are you getting at?"

Gibbs glanced around half-heartedly, and then he sighed. "Mrs. Turner, when a man and a woman love each other very much—"

"…Mr. Gibbs, I know where babies—" Elizabeth paused; for a moment, she looked as ill as she had while parting ways with her dinner. "Oh. My."

When Elizabeth said no more for a few minutes, Gibbs cleared his throat. "So what's our heading?"

Elizabeth took in a slow, deep breath. "West."

"West? Why west?"

"Because Jack's west!"

"…And why are we going to find Jack? I thought you were all for leaving him on his quest."

"I am… but I'll need someone to look after the Pearl while I'm on maternity leave." She shook her head after saying those words and pretended not to hear Barbossa when he demanded to know why he didn't get charge of the Pearl.

O-o-O-o-O

"You're a talented captain," said Bootstrap, rubbing his jaw. He had developed this habit soon after Will became captain of The Flying Dutchman, although the starfish that once lived there now sat in his pocket.

Will shrugged, looking out over the horizon. This, too, was a recently developed habit. Every sunset was one less he had to watch by himself. "I try think of what Jack would do… and then I don't do it."

Bootstrap laughed; although he no longer looked like coral, his voice still sounded like he had gargled with it. "Always a good strategy." The glow of the sun caught a bottle in the water, making the smoky glass glimmer like molten gold. "Looks like we've a visitor."

Will glanced at the bottle without much interest. "One of many."

"Messages intended for the captain of the Dutchman always find their way here…" Bootstrap commented, shooting Will a meaningful look.

Will stared back, unimpressed. "I'm not swimming down there to get it."

"That's the nice thing about being captain."

"Good point." Will glanced around the ship and pointed at a random crewman. "You. Go and get that bottle."

About ten minutes later, thanks to a reluctant sailor and a rather affectionate squid, Will had the bottle. He promptly smashed it on one of the masts, eliciting a quiet whimper from the unfortunate crewmate. "At least it actually is for me," he muttered, reading the name on the outside. He unrolled the paper, mouthing the words. He began leaning against the mast with his eyes half-lidded; he ended up on the deck, his eyes looking like they were about to fall out of his skull.

"What's it say, lad?" Bootstrap asked, looking torn between amusement and concern.

Will, who had gone a rather interesting shade of off-white, finally replied, "Is it possible to become a father when you're dead?"

"Technically dead," said all of the crew in unison. To their credit, none of them paused in their work.

Bootstrap nodded. "I'd say so. I am, after all." He paused, his eyes widening slightly, and then he began that coral-gargling laugh again.

"What?" Will asked.

"Nothing much," said Bootstrap, although, since he was still chuckling, he was lying. "The Bo'sun just owes me five gold now."

Judging by the blush that spread from his cheeks to his ears, Will got it. "Well, what would you do if you weren't going to see your wife in ten years?"

"I never said it wasn't a rational course of action. I'm just five gold richer… and soon to be a grandfather."

"…But no one on the ship has any money."

Bootstrap clapped his son on the shoulder, grinning like a fiend. "It's the principle of the thing, lad."

O-o-O-o-O

William Weatherby Turner III was brought into the world in a small port village near Tortuga. "I want him to have some semblance of a normal life," Elizabeth had explained to her crew, shrugging. "Besides, I have to take care of my father's estate… I'll be back, though. And I'll expect my ship to be in excellent condition."

"Your ship!" Barbossa and Jack both cried, and Elizabeth, as usual, just ignored them.

"What about Singapore? And your position as king?" Gibbs demanded.

"Singapore can care for itself, and there have only been four Brethren meetings. Ever. I think I can afford a few years on land."

O-o-O-o-O

William, now five years old, stacked suspiciously shiny blocks in a pyramid while his mother sorted through some papers. He had no idea that his Uncle Jack, who had given him the blocks, was a pirate, or that his grandfather worked The Flying Dutchman; he had never been on a ship in his life... Yet. "Mum…" said William, resting his head on his hands. "The other boys have been asking me why I don't have a dad."

"You have a father," Elizabeth replied without looking up. "He lives at sea."

This was something he had been told several times, but this was the first instance it didn't satisfy him. "Yeah, but they have sailors for fathers, too, and they come home… why doesn't he?"

Now Elizabeth paused, frowning at the pen in her hands. After a moment, she said, "William, pack your things."

He looked up, surprised. "But—"

"There's someone I'm going to take you to meet. He can tell the story more eloquently than I ever could."

O-o-O-o-O

"Mr. Gibbs." William looked from his mother to the man uncertainly; Elizabeth was too focused on the man asleep with the pigs to notice. "Mr. Gibbs!" She made a disgusted noise, pried the half-empty jug of rum from his hand, and dumped it over the man's head.

The man jerked awake and glanced around. He jumped to his feet when he saw Elizabeth. "Captain—er… Mrs. Turner! Good to see you again!"

Elizabeth ignored the pleasantries. "Mr. Gibbs, where is the Pearl?"

That apparently took some thought on Gibbs' part. He scratched his head, glancing around. His eyes widened when he saw William. "So this be young Master Turner," he commented, bending down so he could look the boy in the eye. William stared straight back, although he did grab his mother's hand.

"Yes, yes, that's my son." She squeezed William's hand absently. "But I asked you a question."

"Oh! Right! The Pearl!" Gibbs straightened up. "Um…" He looked out at the dock, and his eyes lit up. "It's not here, but The Duchess is." He pointed at the second-largest ship in port.

"Mr. Gibbs, I didn't leave The Duchess in Jack's care, I left the Pearl. Where is it?"

Gibbs continued to dodge the immediate question. "The Duchess is one of the fastest ships in these waters, Mrs. Turner."

"Mr. Gibbs, I don't care about the values of The Duchess—the Pearl is the fastest ship in these waters. That's why I want it."

"Well, technically, Mrs. Turner," said Gibbs, backing away a little bit, "the Pearl really wasn't ever yours… you just commandeered it."

Elizabeth made an annoyed noise and said something William had been told to never, ever say. "The Duchess it is then, if I must." She shook her head. "Time was when you stole something, it stayed stolen."

"Well, Mrs. Turner, you did leave it in Jack's care."

"…True." She sighed. Then she boarded the ship, William in tow.

O-o-O-o-O

Five hours later found William using his newly gained sea legs to follow Gibbs everywhere. "And so my father—he killed Davy Jones?"

"Well, technically, it was Jack what did the stabbing," Gibbs said. He was grinning from ear to ear, pleased to have found a listener who didn't interrupt or groan whenever he told a story. "Your father just held the knife and Jones's heart. But it amounts to the same thing."

William considered this for a long moment. "So that's why he never comes home?" he asked in a much quieter voice.

Gibbs looked rather uncomfortable at the boy's sudden change of mood. "Ah, aye. The captain of the Dutchman can't set foot on land but once every ten years."

Frowning a little, William considered this. Then he looked up at Gibbs, new hope in his eyes. "But we're on the sea right now, so I could visit him, right?"

Laughing uncomfortably, Gibbs ruffled William's hair. "I think you'll want to stick with the arrangement now, Master Turner. None of us want to meet your father sooner than we have to."

All of the crew on deck paused and spat, nodding fervently in agreement with Gibbs. Only Elizabeth stood still, watching the sunset.

O-o-O-o-O

"So if 'is dad is Will, an' 'is Grandad's Bootstrap, then wot do we call 'im?" Ragetti asked, leaning on a mop and gesturing at William. As usual, everyone but Pintel ignored him, and even he didn't bother to look up.

"We call 'im William, just like 'is mum," said Pintel.

Ragetti wrinkled his nose. "But 'is mum is the Pirate King, an' 'is dad's Davy Jones! An' we're just gonna call 'im William?"

"It's 'is name, innit?" Pintel inspected his nails. Usually, he at least tried to look interested when his nephew spoke, but he was feeling apathetic today. Thinking the matter closed, Pintel started picking a piece of God-knew-what out of his teeth and turned away from Ragetti.

Ragetti started to mop again. True to form, he waited the exact length of time it took Pintel to forget the conversation to restart it."'Ow 'bout Belt Buckle?"

Pintel paused, glancing over his shoulder. "Wot?"

Rolling his eye like Pintel was the stupid one, Ragetti leaned his mop on the side of the ship and looked at Pintel. "'Is name! For the little 'un!"

Pintel let out a deep sigh."'Is name's William, an' that's that," Pintel replied, shaking his head. "'E's five. Wot's 'e need a nickname for anyway?"

Ragetti didn't reply: he knew when an argument was lost. He waited until Pintel was out of earshot to mutter, "Well, I'm callin' 'im Belt Buckle."

O-o-O-o-O

"Wot you lookin' so blue for, Belt Buckle?" Ragetti asked, watching the young Master Turner push a few toy boats around the deck of The Duchess. (Elizabeth still hadn't regained the Pearl, since Jack was somewhere farther north, but she was doing quite well for herself anyway.)

"When Mother and I went to port…" William sighed and pushed his boats away. He was eight now and starting to suspect he was too old for the toy versions, even though his mother was still trying to teach him the ways of running an estate. "The other boys made fun of me."

Ragetti knelt so he could look into William's face. "Wot'd they say?"

William sighed again. "Well, they laughed when I told them my father was Davy Jones—sort of—and then they made fun of my pirate name!" He looked up at Ragetti, his lower lip quivering in an alarming manner. "They told me… they told me that my name was stupid and that—that my dad was just some pirate!"

Ragetti scratched his head. "Wot's wrong with pirates, eh?"

William sniffled a little. "Nothing," he muttered, "but… he's not just a pirate, right? I mean, Gibbs said—" A sudden frown came over his face, and he looked back into Ragetti's eyes. "He was telling the truth, right?"

Ragetti smiled. Unfortunately for Ragetti, since he was a pirate and not handsome by any stretch of the imagination, it wasn't very reassuring. "Course 'e was," said Ragetti, patting William's knee. William looked back at the ground and didn't reply.

O-o-O-o-O

"William, just because you know how to fight doesn't mean you should do it," said Elizabeth, dabbing at the cut on her son's cheek with a wet rag. William glared at his feet and didn't answer. "What was it this time?" William's frown deepened, but he still didn't answer. Elizabeth put her hands on her hips. "William…"

William's head shot up. "Mother they told me I was a liar and that you were just some tramp who ran away with a sailor and got pregnant and your father killed and—" He had to pause for breath; Elizabeth put her hand over his mouth so he couldn't speak anymore.

"Speak slowly or not at all, William," said Elizabeth, in that tone of voice that William had learned could never be argued with. "I understand that you're upset, but that's no excuse for a lack of decorum."

William sighed. He wouldn't have been so compliant if he'd known how much of a hypocrite his mother was, but he'd learned to never question her maxims. When he had collected himself, he looked back at Elizabeth. "I hate it here, Mother. All of the boys make fun of me, and I hate my lessons. When are we going back to sea?"

Stroking his hair, Elizabeth stared at a section of wall just over his head. Instead of answering his question, Elizabeth murmured, "What are we going to do with you, William?"

O-o-O-o-O

"What're we doing here, Mother?" said William. He was almost ten now, and therefore much too old to hold his mother's hand, but he still stood close to her. She had been acting oddly all week, and now, out of the blue, she had insisted that the crew of The Duchess turn off their course to Tortuga and bring the two of them here. He'd never even heard of this place!

Elizabeth set a hand on her son's shoulder and smiled a little—she seemed so nervous! What was going on? "Just wait, William. I've a lovely surprise for you."

William frowned at his shoes. Usually, his mother's surprises were lessons. He'd had quite enough of that for today. Why, even as she was standing at the helm calling out directions, she was making sure that Mr. Gibbs was teaching him about the finer points of altitude and azimuth. "If you say so, Mother."

Elizabeth squeezed his shoulder. Her hand tightened almost to the point of pain as the sun disappeared beneath the horizon. There was a sudden flash of green light. William gasped. He'd never seen anything like that before—and was that a ship rising out of the water? "Mother, what—"

"Shh," Elizabeth whispered, her free hand creeping up to her mouth. William glanced at her, but the ship in the distance was much too interesting. It was just so strange! Not to mention that it was heading straight for them. "You'll see, William."

As the ship got closer, William could see a man standing in the crow's nest. The instant the ship was within swimming distance, he jumped over the side of the boat and made for land. Elizabeth let go of her son and ran across the field to meet the man as he climbed out of the sea. "Mother?" William watched in growing disgust as his mother jumped into the man's arms.

…maybe Uncle Jack hadn't been lying when he said he'd kissed her…

William decided he wanted a closer look at the far-off ship. When he walked past his mother, Elizabeth let go of the strange man and grabbed William's hand. He was about to protest when Elizabeth looked at him. Her eyes were so much softer than usual. The sight shocked him into silence, and Elizabeth took his hand and tugged him over to the strange man. "William," she said in a voice that trembled, "this is your father."

(The next part concerns William's adulthood. I split it in two because it felt stronger that way.)