A/N: uncharted waters. Inside the mind of the eunuch. Just kidding I had to say that. It just sounded so appropriate. Anyway…so a little peek inside the mind of "the Will" as Jack so appropriately puts it as he…almost…dies. Enjoy yourselves. Review. Please? And the quotes may not all be in the right places, I've only seen the movie twice, so bear with me on that one. Please.
Will felt unbalanced on the Dutchman as it tossed and lurched around the maelstrom. His father's unknowing attack was still fresh in his mind as he was thrown back in his weak attempt to keep Davy Jones from Elizabeth. He was slammed against the rail.
Elizabeth gasped.
Davy Jones looked over and smiled darkly. "Love," he spat. "A terrible bond, and yet…so easily broken. Do you fear death, Mister Turner?"
"Do you?" Jack called from behind the other captain's back. Will looked up to see Jack holding the heart in one hand and a knife in the other. Davy Jones looked at exactly the same time.
"You're a cruel man, Jack Sparrow," he snarled.
"Cruel is a matter of perspective," Jack fired back. Will allowed himself a small smile.
"Oh, is it?" Jones asked. He then turned around and raised the sword above his head.
Rain dripped from Will's hair into his eyes, but he dared not blink, staring at the sword. Am I about to be stabbed? he wondered with a whirl of confusion and horror.
The blade seemed to come down in slow, agonizing motion, tantalizing him with its familiar edges.
I made that sword.
Will had forged the sword carefully and precisely, hammering with measured strength. It had been painstaking work, but in the end it had impressed both the now dead governor and its apparently also dead owner. In his mind's eye, Will watched the dead former commodore performing the ritual movements with the perfectly balance sword. He smiled, proud of his work. The sword might have been his very best. It was also his very last.
Will let out a yell as the sword pierced his breast.
Pain did not flood his entire body as he had expected. It concentrated on his chest and tightened it, sending out fresh waves each time the torn, wild heart pulsed.
Fuzzily, Will looked up, gasping in pain, and saw Jack once more. The pirate was still holding the heart and the knife and was looking at Will as though terrified. When their eyes met, a look of knowing and terrible sorrow flooded his eyes. Will tried to say something to him and choked on the words in his terror.
Everything was blurry. He couldn't tell whether from pain, water in his eyes, or tears, but either way he couldn't see in detail. Dimly, he made out Elizabeth kneeling next to him, holding his face, shouting to stay with her. He let out another pained gasp, shut his eyes, and forced them open again as black started to creep across his vision. Mustn't let go, he managed to string together. Mustn't let go.
"Will, look at me!"
Will struggled to look up at his hysterical wife and let out a small moan. He could feel his own heartbeat growing faster and weaker, the fear growing.
"Will, here," said a deeper, calmer voice. "Take it. You made a promise."
Bootstrap Bill was attacking Jones in a fury that Will had never seen before. And it was for his son that he did it. Will's shaking fingers closed around the handle of a knife. He looked over at the speaker; it was Jack, trying to seem calm but still afraid and sorrowful beneath the mask.
"Stab it, Will," he urged. "For your father."
For my father, Will thought. For my father. You made a promise, Will. It's time to hold up your end of the deal. He looked up at the fight one last time, where Jones had cornered his father. "You will not postpone my judgment!" Jones was yelling threateningly.
With a final burst of strength, Will drove the blade through the barnacle-encrusted organ. Then he slumped back against the rail of the Flying Dutchman one last time.
It was all over. Everything he had done since his father had left, since the Black Pearl had attacked Port Royal, had led to this.
His heart pulsed weakly. Elizabeth was torn from his side, and as Will closed his eyes, his final vision was of her holding on to Jack and looking back at him, no longer screaming. He saw Davy Jones choke out a final cry when his eyes fluttered open, and the former captain toppled into the whirlpool. Bill Turner was standing over him now, holding a dagger.
End it now, Will thought desperately, allowing his eyes to close for the last time. End it now. Please…
Bootstrap Bill looked down on his son and barely saw him. "The Dutchman must always have a captain!" he bellowed.
Will was afraid, but no longer had the strength to do anything about it. He tried to take another breath and failed. He was choking on air. His heart ceased to beat.
Bootstrap plunged the dagger into his son's chest. Deeper and deeper the blade tore, slicing the surrounding skin and muscle with an almost scary ease. It cut the veins and arteries leading to and from the heart. He took hold of Will's heart and lifted it from the chest, and replaced Davy Jones's heart with it. Instantly both wounds began to heal, leaving a jagged red scar.
Will's eyes opened with a new strength as the Dutchman plunged into the maelstrom and spun off wildly.
"Orders, Cap'n," said one of the fish men.
Captain. Will suddenly felt a cavity where his heart should have been. He fingered the scar for a moment before realizing that the ship was still underwater. "To the surface," he commanded. "It's time to take care of a little unfinished business."
Bootstrap handed him a faded, old bandanna. Will took it with a smile, tied it around his head, and took the wheel of the Flying Dutchman.