TURNERS TOGETHER

By Rose de Sharon

Disclaimer: the recognizable characters belong to Disney.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

- "Will and Elizabeth reunion" story! I am a firm believer in Elizabeth's faithfulness breaking Will's bound to the Flying Dutchman (as stated by the POTC screenwriters, but badly presented in the AWE movie), so if you'd rather see these lovebirds together only one day every decade, then this story isn't for you.

- English isn't my native language and I don't have a beta-reader, all mistakes are mine.

- This chapter's title comes from a 1973 single by Neil Diamond.

Feedback: Flames will be ignored by direct order of a quick-thinking, silver-talking and rum-appreciating pirate captain. Savvy?


Chapter 1: The long way home

The Flying Dutchman was sliding easily on the waves, heading for an island located in the Caribbean archipelago, sailing towards the setting sun. The ghost ship was finally coming home after ten long years of sailing across the oceans, consoling the ghosts of people who had perished at sea and offering them transportation towards a peaceful rest.

Ten years ago, this vessel had been a terrible sight to behold, covered from top to bottom with aquatic flora and fauna, appearing from out of nowhere before pulling innocent ships to the depths with the help of a pet Kraken. But it had been nothing compared to the frightful reputation of its former Captain: Davy Jones, the literally heartless monster who had terrorized the sea in retaliation of a scorned love. Countless people have lost their lives because of him and the news of his demise had been so unexpected that even years after the event, some sailors just couldn't believe Jones wouldn't harm anyone again.

But now, the ghost ship was fully restored and it was a proud Dutch fluyt once again, thanks to the influence of its new commander, William Turner Jr. Painful circumstances had forced him to become the Dutchman's Captain instead of Jones – in fact, it had been a matter of life or death. For the young man's life to be saved Will had to accept a ten-year exile at sea, a difficult soul-ferry duty and an uncompromising separation with his wife, Elizabeth Swann Turner. That last condition had been the worst of it: the newlyweds had only one day of honeymoon to spend together and then, Will had left Elizabeth on Shipwreck Island. He had given her two souvenirs: his heart, locked up in the Dead Man's Chest for safekeeping, and a child: William Turner the Third. Will had learned about his paternity three months after the beginning of his exile, from Elizabeth's letters, and the thought of not being here to see his son's first smiles or his baby steps would have made the young Captain mad with sorrow if it hadn't been for his father's unmovable presence by his side.

But this ordeal would be over soon. The sun was slowly disappearing behind the Western horizon in a sumptuous display of gold, orange, red and indigo colors, marking the end of Will's last day as the Captain of the Flying Dutchman. Tomorrow at sunrise, the ghost ship would reach the shores of Shipwreck Island after exactly three thousand, six hundred and sixty-five days of absence. Elizabeth and nine-year-old William III (nicknamed "Will-Trey") would be on the beach, ready to greet their husband and father and nothing would prevent the young Turner to be reunited with his family, at long last!

Captain Will Turner was standing on one of the mainmast's yard-arms, his gaze fixed on the great ball of fire sinking behind the horizon, his face illuminated by the sunset's colors. Over the years, the Dutchman's crewmembers had been released from service as their vile past actions had been redeemed by their work so only two persons remained onboard: Will and his father, William Turner Sr. alias "Bootstrap" Bill.

One could wonder how two men could maneuver a fluyt on their own, but the Turners shared the work according to their abilities: Bootstrap Bill would pilot the Flying Dutchman and do menial chores like cooking or mending sails, and Will would handle the operations in the yard-arms, keep a sharp lookout in the crow's nest and decide of the heading. Thanks to his special talent – the ability to "transport" himself from one part of the ship to another in a flash –, Will could go aloft as fast as lightning and in total security; if he ever slipped while standing on a footrope, the young man wouldn't have fallen to his death since safety was only an eye-blink away. Besides, he was the immortal Master of the Seas!

Will looked downwards and spotted his father at the wheel, gently guiding the ship in the direction of Shipwreck Island. The young man quickly finished bundling the topgallant sails and tied them with gaskets. Bootstrap Bill had told him those sheets wouldn't be necessary for the night since the weather was clear, and the sea tranquil. Will trusted his father's sailing experience unconditionally so he had used his "transportation" gift to secure the topgallant sails before it would be too dark to do so. Then, he closed his eyes and immediately vanished from the yard-arms to reappear a second later at the helm.

Bootstrap Bill – a tall, burly-shaped man in his fifties with graying hair and sky-blue eyes – jumped slightly after his son had suddenly materialized next to him; even if he had witnessed this prodigy many times, it never failed to surprise him!

"Whoa! Giving your old man a scare, are you?"

"Sorry, Papa," answered Will good-naturedly. Since there were only the two of them aboard the Flying Dutchman, the Turners had given up their official titles of "Captain" and "First Mate" six months ago to address each other in a more simple way. Whereas the young man would call his father only with this childhood word, Bill had an endless supply of affectionate names for Will and he never missed an occasion to use them.

"'Tis nothing, my wonderful darling, worry not. Have you finished tying up the topgallant sails?"

"Aye, even though I'd like to get a bit more speed to reach Shipwreck Island as soon as possible. But I don't want to compromise the safety of the Dutchman out of impatience."

"You have every right in the world to be impatient, son of mine; Heavens know you have waited long enough. A lesser man would have deployed all the sails at the same time to reach his goal, at the risk of making the ship heel over but you voted against this idea. Once again, you acted like a true Captain and the Dutchman is a perfect reflection of your leadership."

Bootstrap Bill would beam with pride each time he looked at the Flying Dutchman. Ten years ago, this vessel would have been the perfect example of a vessel coming out from the mouth of Hell, a sailor's worst nightmare. Not to mention its freakish crew or its cruel Captain shanghaiing survivors into a hundred years of slavery, deforming them beyond recognition! But the Dutchman had become as pristine as the day it came out of Rotterdam's shipyards with its impeccable white sails, a resplendent hull and an immaculate deck: a far cry from the ghost ship whose name alone had been enough to scare seamen out of their wits for years.

Will smiled at his father's words, and then he picked up some ropes to stash them inside a crate, unaware of Bill's eagle eyes locked on him.

"A marvelous ship, at the image of its Captain," thought Bootstrap Bill affectionately. A decade spent at sea had hone and tone his son's body, making it strong and lean under the puffy-sleeved white shirt and the hard-wearing brown linen pants he wore. Will was broad of shoulders, narrow of hip and with his tanned skin, his handsome features and his movements full of natural-born elegance he could make the most belligerent harpy swoon over in a snap. And a soul matched that physical beauty: against all odds, Will had succeeded in keeping his loving nature in spite of his "heartless" state for the whole duration of his imposed duty, providing endless care to those he ferried to the Other Side. The young man was a walking miracle, the savior of desperate ghosts and the joy of his father; it was no wonder the Flying Dutchman had returned to its true form under the influence of its new Captain.

"But the Dutchman has benefited from Will's presence for too long," thought the elder Turner, his clear blue eyes getting a steel-like gleam. "It is high time this ship gets a change of leader. You will be freed from your duties next morning, my son, but I know you refrain from asking that dreaded question: the Dutchman must have a Captain so who will command it in your stead? And you are also afraid the answer, whatever it may be, will compromise your chances to live with Elizabeth and your little boy. You shouldn't worry about the future, Will; Papa is here, and he'll do whatever it takes for you to be happy…"

"Papa?"

"Huh? Yes, Will?" asked Bootstrap, his attention back to the wheel.

"You looked miles away. Is there something wrong?"

"No, dearest, it is just… I was thinking how much I'd like to see you reunited with Elizabeth and Will-Trey, so I cannot begin to imagine how you feel."

Will sighed softly: his liberation had haunted him nights and days but, as the moment of freedom drew closer, he couldn't help but imagine his exile won't end, like a cherished project being ruined at the last minute by a sudden stroke of fate. Will had kept a stoic façade for years, forbidding his fear to interfere with his captaincy or his duties, and nothing in his quiet demeanor betrayed his inner turmoil. But Bootstrap Bill was aware of this anxiousness which, at times, dimmed the light shining in his son's chocolate-colored eyes.

"All will go well, my Little One. I promised you, remember?"

"You did, Papa, and I can't thank you enough for this. I should have more confidence in your word, instead of worrying about "what ifs"…", said the young man while brushing from his face a lock of long dark hair escaping from the deep green bandana he wore around his head.

"You have cold feet, Will. You are overjoyed and incredulous at the same time, like a prisoner just hours of being freed after spending years in the darkest gaols. Someone can wait for a special moment for years and when it finally happens… he or she is distraught and cannot understand why they feel like this when they should rejoice. It is a normal reaction but your confidence will become stronger with each passing hour, my love. You will forget your fears as soon as you'll spot Elizabeth and Will-Trey on Shipwreck Island's beach, waiting for you."

The younger Turner had a luminous smile after hearing those kind words. Trust his solid-like-a-rock father to boost his confidence! He was about to thank the older man but at that very moment, Bootstrap Bill reached out and pulled him close to his powerful chest in a one-armed hug; then, he pressed a kiss on Will's temple just before releasing him.

Will blinked, and he asked softly:

"What was that for?"

Bootstrap Bill lightly shrugged his shoulders: "Just because."

"Because you have managed to keep your love intact. Because, like the legendary Ulysses, you are coming home after a tedious journey as a hero. And, most importantly, because you are my son. My angel. Your upbringing is entirely due to your mother and she can't be praised enough to have brought into this world a beautiful, caring, courageous man like you. Mary did all the hard work while I've done nothing but siring you and yet, may God forgive me, I feel so prideful!"

The elder Turner was too self-conscious to say those words out loud but if his lips were sealed, his blue eyes betrayed his thoughts. Will knew the depths of his father's affection for him and said:

"Don't sell yourself short, Papa. I'd be half the man I am without you."

"Gosh, Will! Do you have second sight?" exclaimed Bill, genuinely surprised his son could read him so well.

"No, I have an extraordinary father."

Bootstrap hid the blush coloring his face by returning his attention to the wheel: he had a modest nature and, for the life of him, he couldn't get used to compliments even if he knew they were sincere. Truth to be told, the elder Turner had never forgiven himself for deserting his family to go pirating, a decision which had ended in Bill falling into Jones' clutches. It had been bad enough to have been sentenced to a hundred years of slavery… but his son had almost been killed by the hideous monster. Bootstrap felt like crying every time he looked at the red scar crisscrossing the young man's left breast – a painful reminder that Will's heart had been carved out. His child had forgiven him over and over again and their bound had been renewed by the decade spent at sea together, but Bill was still secretly inconsolable for what had happened in the past.

Will's clear voice suddenly broke the older man's thoughts: "I will prepare supper and I'll keep watch for the night while you go below deck, Papa. The sun has set and you need your rest."

"No can do, son. You will sleep in the Great Cabin while I'll remain at the wheel."

"But it is my turn to be on night watch!" protested Will.

"I don't need many hours of sleep, my darling. You, on the other hand, need to be bright and early for your big day tomorrow. You wouldn't want to yawn your head off while hugging Elizabeth and Will-Trey, now, would you?"

"Papa…"

"Please, Will, indulge an old man. The hours will fly a lot faster if you sleep, instead of being on piloting chores. The Flying Dutchman and I are old acquaintances, I know every inch of its hull and it won't be the first time I'd stay on watch all night."

"But…"

"Please, my love? It'd be an honor to be the one who has taken you to your family."

The younger Turner's eyes locked on his father's cerulean blues as he wanted to be sure his father was truly in shape to pull an all-nighter. Then a "Special Smile" graced his lips, the one reserved exclusively to his father and each time, Bill would receive that smile straight to the heart.

"Very well, Mister Turner!" said Will in a mock authoritative tone. "You have managed to make your commander change his mind."

"And that's no easy feat, Captain!" answered Bootstrap Bill with a wink.

The young Turner laughed at this reference to his character traits just before going downstairs, nimble as a cat, using a ladder fixed to a trapdoor. Bootstrap looked at his son until he disappeared below deck, and then the tall sailor pressed his lips firmly against one another.

"I have made terrible mistakes," thought the old sailor as the metallic gleam shone in his eyes again. "And William suffering from them has been a huge injustice, intolerable under God's sky. But my son's dark times are over. Tomorrow he will get himself to land and stay there to live with his wife and his little boy forever. And no one will prevent this from happening, I swear it! I don't care about the Dead Man's Chest, the oath or anything else! All these were Jones' doing, not Will's, and he doesn't have to sacrifice his future for the evils of an octopus-faced monster… or a silly old man's past actions. But I have an idea, one that will ensure my children's happiness. Ten years spent at sea have given me the time to think, and for once in my life I have made a failure-proof plan. No more heart-carving, soul-ferrying, years of absence for you, my cherished son! I swore to you that you will be reunited with your family, and I will keep my word."

Bill Turner let go of one of the wheel's pegs to search the depths of his cloak's pocket. There was hidden a knife with an ebony-and-ivory handle, its blade sheathed in a leather case. It had belonged to Bootstrap's father and in spite of his tumultuous life Bill had never lost the only memento he had of his old man. Ten years ago, the former pirate had been certain he would die from Jones' devilish oath so he had given the knife to Will, like a family heirloom. But after the maelstrom battle, Bill had secretly recovered the cutting instrument to stash it, not daring to show it again since he had carved his son's heart out with it!

So the knife had been forgotten in a corner of Bootstrap's cabin… until the night before. The elder Turner had waited for Will to fall asleep before secretly picking the knife up and go on the main deck to whet the blade for hours, giving it an unsurpassed edge. It was now as sharp and shiny as the day it was made…

Bootstrap Bill had a confident smile. He would succeed in freeing Will.

TBC…