Beyond the Horizon: A Decade to Wait

by TurtleHeart

PotC immediately following AWE. The tale of Will, Elizabeth, Jack, and everyone in thier lives through Captain Turner's freedom centuries later. This is Part One of the Beyond the Horizon series and completes the first ten years after the films. COMPLETED

1. One

the only thing i own from PotC is the idea to keep going on what everyone began.

A Note from TurtleHeart:

This is the exact same story as Beyond the Horizon. I am going through and rewriting it to make it more modern and much more better since I stared it two years ago. Also, this is part one. The full story is not completed yet and I find it to be too long of a tale to wrap up in one story by itself so it is going to be a four part series when finished. Those of you who have begun to read it will find minor changes and new characters and scenes. Updating it to the original twenty nine chapters should not take long since they are already written. And to those of you who are beginning to read, do enjoy!

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Beyond the Horizon: A Decade to Wait

The Caribbean Sea was calm and the sun shone more brightly than ever. All was quiet but the loud cries of victory from the pirates that had stood against the odds. The Royal Navy was fleeing and the battle was won. Pirates once again had the rule. Everything was perfect and glorious.

Will Turner, now captain of the Flying Dutchman, leaned on a rail. His eyes were sad and thoughtful. His thoughts dwelled on his love and wife. Elizabeth. Barbossa had just married them barely an hour before his life changed forever. Will glanced across the Black Pearl's deck and found who he was looking for. Elizabeth stood on deck near the wheel alone. Her uncombed hair blew in her face. She was so beautiful in her Chinese clothes. Will had to smile. Nothing he had seen before was or could be more beautiful than his own wife. Elizabeth looked out to the Dutchman. Her eyes met with his for a moment. They were big and very moist. She turned to the Pearl's crew. Will lost his smile. He glanced to the side seeing another.

Bill slowly approached him, cradling what looked like his coat in his arms. He glanced to the Pearl as well, then at Will.

"She's waiting boy. Go to her," he said softly. Will turned to face him. Bill unfolded his coat as he added, "Take this too. Someone must keep it safe."

Afraid and looking as though he would cry, Will took the Dead Man's Chest into his trembling hands. He knew very well what was inside it.

"This will be guarded more safely than anything else in the world has ever or will ever be," he told him with moist eyes.

Bill nodded. He stepped aside and motioned to the beach. Will looked that way. One day. Until sunset.

Rowing closer to shore, Elizabeth saw a figure throwing his coat on a rock then patiently sat in the sand and removed his boots. With all her heart, she knew that figure well. Barely reaching land, she ran from the longboat to her husband's arms.

"Will, you're all right!" she cried as he wrapped his arms around her back. She lowered his head to hers and pulled him in to a kiss. It seemed so long since their lips met though it was barely an hour ago. The young couple gazed into each other's eyes. Elizabeth touched Will's moist, tan cheek. His eyes were warm, and richly brown. With a smile, she touched the faded blue bandana around his head.

"I kinda like it," Will admitted.

"As do I my darling," whispered Elizabeth. She leaned into his body for another hug. "I thought I lost you. You're alive now."

Will slowly pulled her away. He opened his tunic to the left side of his chest. It was then that Elizabeth noticed a deep scar embedded into Will's chest. It wasn't normal from battle. It was a precise cut around his heart. She traced the scar suddenly remembering the curse. Shaking her head, she didn't want to believe it she couldn't. She gazed back into his eyes.

"Did they really do it?" she asked quietly.

Will said nothing. He bowed his head then gently pulled her ear against the scar. As he heard her softly gasp, his eyes fell upon his coat resting on top the rock. He kissed her head feeling her back gently tremble. Elizabeth began to cry into his chest. The heart that had done so much for her no longer beat in his chest. She knew his heart very well. Sometimes she would lie on his chest just to hear it. She loved it. Now it was gone forever. Will Turner's chest and body was still, empty, and silent. She raised her head to his. Warm droplets rolled gently down her cheeks.

"Elizabeth, no. Now is not the time for that. The time will come soon enough, but not now." Will told her lovingly as he brushed the tears away with his thumb. He kissed her eye and looked at her smiling. "Now until sunset you will have nothing but me."

Elizabeth smiled. Will took her into his arms. Elizabeth playfully kissed his neck as he carried her deep within the covering of the cliffs. No one could ever have such a day again.

Sunset. Elizabeth blinked from the bright, green flash in front of her. When she opened her eyes, there was nothing but the empty horizon. Will was gone. She shut her eyes. Tears slipped from her eyes once again. She gazed down at the waves crashing upon the dark shore. Behind her was the only thing she had of Will now. She would keep it safe for all eternity.

Captain Will Turner stood at the helm looking at a sunrise. His eyes wandered around the world that now was his. It was his world. It was the place where Jack wandered all those months. It would forever be known as World's End. Hushed voices woke him from his thoughts. He took in his ship and crew. Not long ago everyone and everything had been encrusted with sea life. The men were human once again. The Flying Dutchman was more elegant and magnificent than she had ever been before. Spotting his father securing a sail on main deck, he went down to him slowly. The men looked at him strangely and curiously. From looking at all of them, he tripped on a coiled rope. One grabbed his arm to help him keep balance. The man gave him a strange look. It was almost as though he had seen him before. Will turned to his father again. He set his hand on his father's shoulder startling him.

"Sorry," he apologized.

Bill nodded it off. He noticed the many men coming closer to Will as if waiting. Feeling the weight of the key in his pocket, he reached in and took it.

"William, my son, you are captain of the Flying Dutchman now. As captain, you must carry this with you at all times. The captain must always have it," he told him sadly as he handed Will the key.

Hesitantly, Will took the key from his father's palm. He set the gold chain around his neck then felt it there. Standing taller and lifting his head appearing to be proud and acting brave, he let out a deep breath.

"Orders…Captain," asked the same man that helped him keep his balance.

The men looked at him waiting.

Will's mouth moved into several words. None came out. He didn't know what to order. He'd never been captain of a ship before, much less the leader of anything. The crew continued to wait patiently.

"I don't know," he told them hoarsely.

Overwhelmed and emotion controlling him he quickly made for the captain's cabin and slammed the doors. Several of the crew sighed and looked lost.

"Don't blame too much. He's just a boy. He's been though something only one other has," Bill Turner told them.

"What's his age Turner?" one asked.

Bill sighed. "Twenty-two and captain of this ship. He lost the rest of his life due to me," he said guiltily. There were several sighs and hushed tones.

"I remember chasing young lasses around and getting drunk at that age," noted another. Others nodded.

Feeling miserable and severely guilty, Bill shook his head and made his way to the bow. He beat his head into one of the masts along the way. The rest of the crew looked at each other lost and not knowing what to do. They knew eventually, the boy would come to accept this. Bill knew it would be a very long time before they did.

Sometime after sunset, though he wasn't quite sure when, Will heard four slow taps on the door. He said and wanted nothing to do with anyone. Gazing back out the stern windows, he could only think of his wife and the life he no longer had. His mind fled far from the present, but he did hear the door click shut and soft footsteps against the wooden floor. Around him, lanterns and candles were being lit. Someone sat next to him on the table as well. Will looked to the side while his curls were gently being pulled. Bill gave him a soft, fatherly smile of comfort. Will's eyes swelled with tears that he had been holding back through the whole day along with all his emotion. He blinked it all away and breathed deep. Bill set his arm around Will's shoulder. Will looked at him with pleading, hopeless eyes.

"I promise I'll look after you," whispered Bill.

Will let his emotion free from him at last. He cried aloud in pain and misery while covering his face.

Immediately, Bill wrapped his arms around him. He tucked his son's head under his chin and let him cry for all that had just happened and all that he had lost forever. He swayed back and forth while softly humming and hushing him.

Will sniffled and sighed deeply. He sat in his father's arms and cried, something he couldn't even remember doing. This was the first moment he truly had with his father in so many years and he wasn't even happy to have it. There was such a sound of nothing; it made them both very uncomfortable.

"I know you are wondering how you will ever live with this," began Bill softly. Will moved his head nodding. "It will take time, but soon you will realize this is not so bad. You will learn to live with this and accept it."

Will mockingly laughed before asking, "How? I should not have to live like this. What did I ever do to deserve this?" He looked at his father with red, swollen eyes and a tear soaked face. Tears continued to slip from his eyes.

"I cannot change what happened William," Bill told him softly as he wiped away the tears on his son's face with his thumb.

"No one asked for my opinion about this. I had no say in it," said Will, miserable.

"You were more dead than alive. You didn't have the strength to even speak," reminded Bill.

"Why me though? Why not Jack? He wanted this. I never did."

"He gave his chance of immortality to save you, to keep you from being lost forever,"

"Why would Jack Sparrow give up the one thing he wants most to another to save him? He would never do that," Will told him.

"He did. He helped you stab the heart. It was by his own hand that you stabbed the heart," said Bill. Confused and struggling to believe it, Will looked into the distance. Bill noticed and softly asked, "you were there, remember?"

Will shook his head. "I don't remember truly anything. I barely remember waking," he admitted bowing his head. Before Bill could explain, Will spoke of all he remembered. "I remember Jones. He and I were locked in battle. I fell against the wood. Jones looked down at me. I was afraid. Elizabeth. She was afraid. I remember her eyes. Jack was behind Jones holding the heart. This feeling of eternal pain and suffering came over me. It was dull. Everything was quiet and unfocused. Her voice. She was screaming and holding me. The tears falling onto me. I remember her eyes. She was pleading for me to hold on. It dulled. Something else was calling to me. Someone was calling me. There was screaming. I was cold and it was dark. There were voices. I feel warm again. I remember feeling myself breathe. Something was on my face and something held my hand. The only sound is my breathing and a steady beat. My eyes opened to your face. I saw the blood on your hand and it washing down my chest. I saw the chest then noticed the scar. It outlined where my heart once was. Never again now."

Bill moistened his lips then began, "Jones stabbed you near the heart and managed to barely miss it. I believe he was trying for your heart, but pierced a lung instead. Elizabeth ran to your side screaming. She held you and didn't even bother removing the sword. She just wanted to hold you. You were in her arms struggling to keep your eyes open much less breathe. I saw it happen. I watched it happen. My own heart suddenly became human again, though it was too late. I attacked Jones. I wasn't about to let you die. I wasn't going to stay back and watch it happen. I had to do something. In between moments, Jack looked at the heart that was still in his hand, Elizabeth, and you. I wish I knew his thoughts. Jones slammed me into the side of the ship. I did not go over, because Jones did. His heart was pierced with Jack's sword. Holding the hilt was your hand. Jack's hand grasped your wrist. He was right at your side. I stood over you only knowing what had to happen now. Elizabeth's cries and pleas will haunt my life forever. I thought you tried to say something, but you simply didn't have the strength. I watched your eyes close and your head fall, your body finally relaxing. She pleaded and screamed for you to come back to her. You never woke. That moment changed my life forever. Soon, I realized my son was dead. He just wanted to free me from Jones. Jack pulled Elizabeth from you. I took my knife and knelt beside you. I wouldn't let any other do it. I had to. I knew this was how I could save you. My heart ached and cried as I began cutting into your chest as the ship went under."

He glanced at Will's face for just a moment. His lip trembled as he traced the scar.

"I didn't want to do this to you. I wanted you to die rather than this, but I also wanted you back. Your life is more important to me than my own and you could still have it in a sense. I carved your heart out not knowing where I was cutting. My eyes were too blind from tears, my heart broke forever, and my mind was lost from the blood running over my hand. I'll never forget the moment when I held your heart in my palm. It was set in the chest and the chest was shut. Your heart began beating almost immediately and the wound repaired itself. My heart soared when you began breathing again. I took your hand. That's when I realized it was all true. You had no pulse beating in your fingers or wrist. Waiting for you to wake I set my hand on your face. You tried to open your eyes several times before you finally could keep them open. When you realized everything that had happened you looked at me with this look that I never wish to see again. I helped you to your feet and caught you several times before your strength and balance came again. You went to the helm and we returned."

"A touch of destiny. This is what she meant. Governor Swann and the chest with the key. Every time someone mentioned them. She knew this entire time and said nothing, " Will said to himself softly.

"William…" wondered Bill.

Will shook it off. He looked tired almost. His eyes were heavy and sore from crying before.

Bill tucked a loose piece of hair behind the bandana.

"How did I get it anyway?" wondered Will

"Hair covered your face when I waited for you to wake. I just wanted to see your face. Your mother gave it to me a long time ago," replied Bill. He touched the scar again. "I'll never regret this though. You are no longer an orphan searching for a life William. I'm here now. You made a promise not long ago and stayed true. Now it is my turn. As your father, I swear that I will look after you and take care of you. If you need anything or just want to talk, I'll be there. My arms will always be open for you. My shoulder will always be there to cry on. My love for you will always allow your emotion of any kind. I will not abandon you. You owe me nothing Will. You did free me from Jones's hold. I owe you an eternity of life and love. I want to try something I've never done. I want to try being a father, your father."

"Ten years is a long time," said Will to himself sadly.

"Trust me when I say ten years will pass sooner than you believe," promised Bill. He gave Will a comforting, gentle smile.

"I also want to try something I've never done," whispered Will. "I want to try being a son."

Biting his lip from the tears, Bill nodded.

Will yawned long.

"You should rest now. Tomorrow we'll begin to figure out how this duty is done because not one knows anything about what to do," said Bill as he began to remove the belts and boots from his son.

"Already?" wondered Will. "I thought there would be more time before that."

Bill shook his head as he stood. "Nope. You need to be shown what to do as a captain, speak with the crew and get to know them, and ferry the souls that float beneath us as we speak." He opened a door to the right of the room.

Will slowly walked in. He looked around. There was a small cot with no pillow or blankets, an empty shelf lined one of the walls, a small table and chair were in the corner in front of the window, and on the other side of the room was a door. The room was rather beautiful. It was lined in mahogany wood, as was everything else. The window was large, but dirty. It had a beautiful view of the sea. Will sat on the edge of the bed as his father continued to help him undress. He was soon just in his breeches and tunic.

"What about the souls? How will I know what to do?" he wondered hopeless.

"We are all just as lost as you are," Bill told him just as hopeless. "After a few days our places will be found and you will know what to do. Thousands of souls are lost out there. It is now your duty to find every last one and ferry them to peace. The Dutchman must find every last one." He turned to the horizon and darkening sky. "Imagine being trapped between life and death for centuries without being able to find your way. Being trapped under Jones's command was bad enough. Those poor souls. They finally will be put to rest. As soon as we are finished, you and I may just find time to talk. There is so much I've wanted to tell you. I know you want an explanation from me and it is well deserved no doubt."

He sighed and noticed the silence. It was far too quiet. Turning, he saw Will lying on his side with his head nestled in his arms as a pillow, sleeping. He was calm and beautiful. Bill smiled gently at him. He rolled Will's coat into a small bundle while going closer to his son. Gently lifting Will's head, he set his coat on the bed, and then set Will's head on the coat. He moved his son's arms to a less strained position. He set his own coat over Will, fearing his son would get cold. One by one, the lanterns and candles were blown out. Sitting beside him, Bill touched Will's cheek and gently stroked it with the back of his fingers.

"I will take care of you Will no matter what, even if my heart must replace yours. I promise," he whispered. Slowly, he leaned down until his lips gently touched his son's forehead. He smiled down at Will then quietly left to prepare for tomorrow.

Much was to be done, as the duty was now reinstated by a new captain of the Flying Dutchman: Will Turner.

From what they figured by the position of the sun, it was noon. No sight of Will had been seen yet by anyone. With too much to do, Bill went to wake his son from sleep, which took longer than he thought. He ended up by nearly dragging Will out of bed, because, for some reason, Will thought this was only a bad dream and he would wake from it soon. Reluctantly, Will did come on deck. He looked over his crew. A few motioned to the helm. Slowly and looking around, he did go to the helm. From the faces of those that looked at him, he saw no one trusted him to have such a duty. Honestly, he had no faith in himself. Waiting, still looking upset with early, Bill stood at the wheel. Will slowly went to him.

"She's yours mac. Take her," said Bill with a small smile as he moved away.

Hesitant, Will stood where his father just had. He grasped the wood with gentle hands as if the wood was made of china. After a moment, he shut his eyes, feeling a warm welcome. Acceptance on this ship was finally found. The Flying Dutchman accepted him to be her captain. With a light breeze blowing through his hair, he felt he was back on the Pearl on mainmast. Jack was running around chasing the monkey, Barbossa was cheering for the monkey, Pintel and Ragetti were arguing over a pointless matter, and Elizabeth was calling his name. Her sweet, gentle voice rang in his ears and he was free. A small voice in his head told him to come back to life. He opened his eyes again. This was life, or rather, the only life he had left. Soft voices behind him took his attention.

Two men were speaking with his father. One of them noticed him. Will saw that he was the one that helped him keep his balance and asked for orders the day before. This man was strong, had dark wavy hair, and vibrant green eyes. He had a gentle look about him. Most of all, he showed respect.

"Orders Captain," asked the man again.

Captain. Will sighed. That wasn't his name. To everyone else, however, it was. There were a lot of things he needed to accept. He also knew he had all the time in eternity to accept them.

"Captain…"

"I know the souls must be ferried," said Will, unsure. More sure, he nodded confidently. "Yes. Those are your orders. Do what it is you men do."

"That is much easier said than done. We don't know what we do."

"You are not the only one," muttered Will lowering his eyes.

"We were never formally introduced. Maccus. I was the former first mate."

"Former?" wondered Will.

"Well obviously," said Maccus motioning to Bill.

"If you don't mind," added Bill.

"Not at all," said Will with a comforted smile. He held out his hand to Maccus, "Will Turner." Maccus shook his hand. Will looked at him closer. "Have we met before?"

Maccus nodded. "A few times."

"We have also met and I do apologize for that. I was following the only orders I know," said the other man as he came to Will's side. Will looked into his apologetic eyes, then at his father's sorrow filled face. "Jonathan Greenbeard, the former Bo'sun."

"Haul the weevil to his feet," Will said to himself very deeply remembering that moment.

"The first time I saw you since you were three," said Bill quietly as he drew a line across his son's back with his finger.

"I would rather suffer that each hour than live this way forever," Will told them. They looked at him.

"Well then," said Bill with a clap that caused Will to jump a little. "Maccus inform the others your orders. We'll take to assigning duties later."

Maccus nodded and went to do so.

"It is day. The souls can only be seen at night," said Will. Shaking his head, Bill pointed to the vast water. Will looked over the side of the ship. He leaned over more seeing the souls float by. "When I was here we only saw them when it was dark," he added.

"That is because this was not your duty. Only those part of the Dutchman can see them anytime," explained Bill.

"Please tell me you know how to retrieve them then," wondered Will hopeful.

Heading for main deck, Bill shook his head. Will followed as he rolled his eyes. He followed his father to a grouping of men.

"Does anyone know how to retrieve them?" asked Bill. There were glances at each other and heads shaking.

"Ask Maccus. He has been here as long as Jones," suggested Inido.

All heads turned to Maccus. Maccus leaned on the rail as he looked over the sea of souls. Will joined him.

"I've been serving on this ship for…I don't know how long. We came here once a very long time ago. I only remember it because I saw my son in these waters. I asked. Jones told me the only way was to offer them peace and the path to heaven," said Maccus.

"It's a riddle," noted Blackeye.

"I hate riddles," muttered Will.

Everyone soon joined them leaning on the rail causing the ship to tilt that way. They gazed out. A cannon ball rolled against Will's foot. He took it into his hand and felt the smooth edges. Offer them peace and the path to heaven. Repeating it over and over an idea came over him. Walking from them, he set the cannon ball in his father's arms. It was worth a try.

The crew watched with curiosity as he climbed over the rail. As he climbed down more, they leaned over more along with the ship. Hanging onto a rope, Will leaned out. He hesitantly leaned his hand out to the water until it was wet up to his wrist. A white, wispy image floated beneath his hand. He grabbed onto the white hand and pulled up. The soul followed. The crew smiled, gazing at him with sudden confidence and leadership in their Captain. Will helped the lost soul on deck. Immediately setting foot on deck, the white, ghostly image became human again. Will stared at him with confused, wondrous eyes.

"James Norrington," he whispered.

The soul of James Norrington looked at him with the same look of confusion while leaning closer. "Will. Will Turner?" he asked softly.

Will nodded. Behind him, Bill slowly disappeared to the helm.

The duty that had been lost long ago was now being fulfilled. Any member could bring souls aboard. The crew went out into longboats and collected more. Will stayed on the ship talking with James. No one approved at first, but realized why and accepted. Will felt his heart would break, if he still had it, when Weatherby Swann joined them. He was followed by Sao Feng. The four of them spent the day speaking at the helm about all that had happened and why Will was here. Will avoided the topic of Elizabeth until her father asked about her. As he told them, Will's eyes were misted with tears. His voice was sad and lonely. Weatherby had a comforting arm around Will's shoulder through the explanation. None believed this could have been Will Turner's destiny. It was anything but fair and deserved. This was a cruel punishment, but as Sao Feng said, it was a gift. They also found it difficult to believe who made him captain. There was one more way to immortality. All Jack needed was his compass that didn't point north.

The Dutchman was full with lost souls. Will and his companions remained at the helm speaking. He ignored the word that the others said constantly. He wanted nothing to do with her.

"Will, we have a full crew of souls," said Bill as he interrupted their conversation. "And you need to begin the records."

"What records?" wondered Will.

"You need to record who each soul is: name, age, gender, birth date, day of death, how they died, in what sea they died, parents, siblings, wife or husband, and children. It is custom that the Sea Goddess must keep records on hand according to Maccus. If you believe such things, the rest of the gods require records of these things," said Bill. He rubbed the back of his neck and spoke something else to his son. "And we are doing this backwards. These are the most recent souls that have died. We need to find the beginning of this place and start with the very first few deaths that Jones never cleaned. Meaning, Will—" His face went more white as thoughtful as he thought how he was going to explain this to his son. "Will, we are about to meet souls from ancient Greece and Rome and when I say ancient I mean that we may meet a few people from the Trojan War if not further back."

"I don't know about you, but I don't speak ancient Greek," began Will then shook it off. He stood and moved to his father's side. "Wait a minute. You're telling me that this ship has been around since ancient Greece?"

"Uh huh," replied Bill. "And Maccus speaks the ancient languages. Most of the original crew, including Wyvern speak dozens of languages of all ages of the world."

Will's face lit with wonder and smile grinned from ear to ear. "I'll meet Blackbeard. Think of all the great peoples of the world in the histories that died on the sea. The books of legends. We'll meet them all."

"I know," said Bill, trying his very hardest to remain calm and contain his excitement. "Believe me, I know."

"You look like William," noted Weatherby to Bill.

"He's my son," replied Bill, wrapping an arm around Will's shoulders.

"Yet I feel I have seen you before," said Weatherby.

"You have," replied Bill. "My wife and your wife were nearly sisters. They were close enough in friendship to be considered sisters. You were at my wedding. Your daughter fell in love with my son. And—" He looked specifically at Will when he spoke. "And I hear my son ripped your daughter's dress when he was seven and she six at a certain Christmas Celebration at his grandfather's manor in England."

"I never did apologize about that," said Will. "I'm sorry for ripping her dress."

"Richard Seastone's grandson ripped her dress at his celebration," recalled Weatherby, looking at Will with confusion.

"My name is William Alexander Jonathan," began Will then drew a deep breath. "Seastone-Turner. After I ran away in search of father after mum died, I spent three years with the name Will Turner and lost all noble manner. I didn't want to go home and be thrown back into noble society and I would have thought that they would have moved on and in the Caribbean I never told you because I didn't want you forcing Elizabeth to marry me because of a name. I know with a few single words that my life could have turned out better than it was, but I didn't know who I was or where I belonged. And if it means anything to you Weatherby, I did marry Elizabeth. You got the match you wanted for her in the end. But, unfortunately, it only lasted an hour."

Because Will choked on sudden tears in his throat with his last few words, Bill wrapped both arms around him from behind, pulling his son's back into his chest.

Weatherby gazed at Will with wonder. Seastone was one of five wealthiest and influential families in all the English world. William Alexander Jonathan Seastone was third in line for the title and born an high Lord of England. Will was that Lord of England. His daughter Elizabeth, even if it was for merely and hour, was married to more than what he wanted. He wanted her to marry someone she loved and someone who would look after her not only by his love but keep her protected with a good title. She got both. Will was the son he had always wanted to have marry into his family.

"You are who you say you are?" he asked softly.

"My wife was Charlotte Seastone, his mother," replied Bill.

"My God," Weatherby breathed as he shut his eyes.

"I'm sorry I never told you," said Will.

All of a sudden, Weatherby stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Will, startling the young man. "Will, you were betrothed to my daughter when you were eight. Charlotte and Abby had you two betrothed to marry. We were going to announce it at your sixteenth birthday. It was silent betrothal. You were always meant to marry my daughter. Right from the beginning when we rescued you I knew there was something familiar about you. The way you treated her with such gentle manner and like a human being wasn't the normal manner men treated her. You were always meant to be my son Will. Always."

With a smile widening across his face, Will shut his eyes and further welcomed the embrace. "Then would this be a bad time to tell you Elizabeth and I slept with each other when we were eighteen."

"You what!" cried Weatherby, pushing him back.

Bill covered his mouth with his palms after a sudden, outburst of laughter.

"I knew it," James muttered to himself. "I knew you two did it. You were comfortable with each other and I always swore to myself that overnight you two literally became awkward."

"That would be why," explained Will. He looked at Weatherby's usual raised eye and pursed lips of anger and shrugged. "No one knew but the two of us."

"And when did you do this in perspective of that year?" wondered Weatherby.

"I think it was summer. I was nearly nineteen," Will said with thought. He raised a finger. "But I can promise you it just happened. We never intended it to happen. We were talking and she kissed me and one thing led to another and before either of us realized what was happening we were in the middle of it so we just kept going. But because we did everything lovers can possibly do in a lifetime in one night, it got awkward between us and remained that way."

"William what if? She could have… You two may have… Had she gotten pregnant… You," Weatherby said in the attempt to scold Will.

"Weatherby," began Bill. He placed his palm on the man's shoulders. "Better being eighteen and it just happening rather than being fourteen and curious like me."

"You were fourteen?" Will asked with a huge amused grin on his face.

Bill nodded his head subtly and shamed. He turned away from Will when he felt his cheeks reddening with warm blood. "I'll tell you about that sometime when it is just the two of us as long as you tell me your first time."

"Done," replied Will without hesitation.

Weatherby coughed, making his presence as Elizabeth's father known.

They looked at him and regained composure.

"Captain," Maccus softly called. "I do not mean to interrupt, but you have a duty to do.

Will nodded. "I know, I know," he said. He turned to his father. "I leave you to choose the order of souls who come to see me."

He wandered into his cabin, which was in the process of being cleaned. At the head of the great table was a rather nice red velvet chair that must have been hiding in there somewhere and, miraculously, a stack of paper, pen, and ink. Never would he have expected real paper to be on this ship, but Jones was beginning to surprise him.

Flopping himself into the chair, he smiled at the sight of glasses and a bottle of wine and helped himself to a glass. While he was doing so, the door creaked open and footsteps approached.

"Have a seat. Ah, would you like a glass," he asked.

"Mm hm."

Will poured another glass and pushed it forward. When he opened his mouth to ask the name of the soul, he raised his head and found speaking more difficult than he thought.

Cutler Beckett looked at him with small, quiet eyes. His hands were in his lap. In fact, his head was bowed low, enough to not see Will's face. The usual militaristic façade he held normally was washed out of him and he sat small and humble.

"Name?" Will asked, his tone of voice clearly wanting to be through with this as soon as possible.

"Cutler Frederick Laurence Beckett."

"Male. Age?"

"Forty three."

"Birth date?"

"April 17, 1724."

"Death date, which I know, is June 19, 1767. Cause of death?"

There was an odd, awkward silence before an answer. "Battle."

"Sea which you died in?"

"Caribbean Sea."

"Parents?"

"Clarence Beckett and Victoria Ledford-Beckett."

"Siblings?"

"Eugenia, Harrison, and Theodore."

"Wife?"

"None."

"Children?"

"Will Seastone."

"Why!" Will yelled unexpectedly as he threw the pen on the table. "You were like my father when I was a child. I was three signatures away from being your son. We meet years later and it's like you don't even know who I am. You knew me I know you did. There are two William Turners in the world and if it wasn't my father then it was me. You arrest me, ruin my wedding, send me on a crazy wild goose chase, threaten my family and best friends, threaten me, threaten to kill me if I don't get what you want, kill hundreds of innocent lives just by association with piracy, torture souls, interrogate, backstab, deal, and trade people. Answer me one question. Why?"

"You know I still cared about you," said Cutler calmly.

"Never would have guessed that," Will told him, shaking his head.

"Look," began Cutler, sitting forward on his chair. "After you ran away I fell apart. I gave in to my father's every whim and gave up trying to fight him living my life. I accepted the position of dealing with matter in piracy for reasons you wouldn't think. What began as keeping your family's name safe and an ear out for you, your father, and Jack became a simple hunt to kill them all. I have always hated Jack. My father loved Jack more than his own son. All right? I've always hated Jack, but he's always been my friend. The stories from the tale of the pirate, marine, and nobleman are true. We were all best friends. You left and I had nothing. I had nothing but the pride and satisfaction of the rest of the world and my father finally showing a piece of love for me. I let power corrupt my mind. I fell in love with power and craved it more everyday. And when I saw you again, I knew there was no going back to the man who was three signatures away from adopting you. I had to continue who I was because it was who I was, but I knew I could keep you safe. I never put you in any harm Will, ever. When you came to me with Jack's compass, I was thrilled because there was no reason that I had to harm you. And when you lay down to sleep for the night out of exhaustion I felt my world was perfect, like it was when you were a child. To be able to pull your boots off, set aside the belts and weapons, and tuck the blankets around you and to be able to run my fingers through your curls and you fall asleep as comforted as you did—have you any idea how perfect my life was? In that moment, I knew I chose the wrong side."

"You could have chosen us at Parley," noted Will.

"Would any pirate have believed me to have changed sides right before a battle?" asked Cutler, his voice obvious.

"I think it would have made an impression. All you would have had to do is show off your right shoulder," said Will with a smirk.

Cutler smiled. "You know about that?"

"And the one on your arm," said Will. "You know, that song, combined with one of the pieces of Eight from the Brethren Court calls the court to session?"

"Well I do now don't I?" said Cutler.

"Why couldn't we have just done this?" wondered Will. "I mean we're talking. Why couldn't we have just talked?"

"Because I was your enemy Will and you were mine. Enemies don't have causal conversations," replied Cutler. With a sudden thought on mind, he pointed at Will. "And when did you start drinking tea? I faintly remember a little boy of four, five, six, seven, eight, and nine who swore to me he would never drink one drop of tea in his life."

"I grew up and acquired a taste for it. And I did noticed the amused expression you had on your face as you placed the cube of sugar in my tea," noted Will.

"I was simply wondering when you began drinking tea," said Cutler.

"If I can recall correctly, I think it was when I was fourteen that I kinda liked it and sixteen was when I began drinking it regularly. Of course, I usually had my tea at night after work rather than the customary four o'clock. I needed something to relax my mind," said Will, remembering his wine glass and sipped it.

"Since these are records after all, I suppose you should be recording a bit of my life then," assumed Cutler.

Will nodded as he set the glass of wine on the table once more. He took his pen in hand.

A once good friend and nearly father of his began his tale, Will learned more about this man and his dark past than he knew existed. Cutler Beckett made a little more sense in his mind. This man had a dark past and wicked childhood, but his life got worse as the years went on and it hit rock bottom after he was forced to betray his two best friends and after the little boy he loved the most in the world ran away nothing mattered but receiving his father's love.

---

As they approached the sun, it seemed to get bigger. They seemed to have sailed into the sun. The sky brightened. An entirely new world lay ahead of them. There was a dock of mahogany and gold situated directly between a cove of green fields, houses, roads, and a town. Will realized, just for a moment, he was here after he felt his world end. His eyes lowered. A strange thing came over him. No one spoke, not even Cutler. The only sound was the breeze in the sails and the smooth water beneath. They were looking at Heaven. The ship docked. All souls slowly left the ship. Tears consumed them as they did. Some walked or ran. Others slowly took each step not believing. James and Swann stayed behind. They could only gaze at Will pleading for him to come.

"This is where I belong," whispered Will softly.

"Someday our paths will cross again," said James confidently. He shook hands with Will. "You are all she has. Take care of her."

Will nodded with a smile, "I will and I'll love her for eternity."

Weatherby approached Will and simply shook his head with a sly smile on his face. "William Seastone."

"There are better men, ones who will remain at her side her entire life," said Will.

Weatherby nodded. "This is very true, but no man will love my daughter more, nor shall that man have her heart the way you do."

"Elizabeth is the only woman to ever have a man's heart the way she has mine," said Will softly.

"Good-bye William Turner," said Weatherby.

Will nodded the same with sad eyes. He received a fatherly embrace.

With a smile of thanks, James Norrington and Weatherby Swann left.

A palm cupped his shoulder. "Do you understand why I did everything?"

"Yes," replied Will. He turned to face Cutler. "I don't know if I can forgive you for some things."

Cutler shook his head. "There are things I will never ask myself for forgiveness, nor will I allow myself to have it. I just need to know that you understand."

"I do," said Will softly, and with a nod of his head. "Perfectly.

"Good," said Cutler. He inhaled deeply as he bowed his head then clasped both of Will's hands. "Can you do me a favor? Keep an eye on my brothers for me. Theo, he's always traveling the sea with his music and he's never home. Harry, as I told you is in the Navy. I need you to keep an eye out for him especially."

"Alive or dead you know I'll take care of him," Will told him.

"I know you will," said Cutler. He moved his right palm to Will's cheek. "I wish you and I could have had more time together, fourteen years worth of it, but I am not your father. I never was meant to be your father. You have your father. Give him a chance. And judging by the way he's looking at me, I think he loves you."

Not able to resist, Will turned his head and smiled. Bill stood across the ship with his lower lip sucked into his mouth. His nose wrinkled as well as his forehead and narrow eyes pierced through the men that separated him from Will. Clearly, this man was not pleased at the sight.

Will's grin widened from ear to ear. He softly chuckled, but his quiet laughter suddenly ended when he felt lips press against his forehead then arms wrap him in a tight embrace.

"I love you Will, I always have."

"Now I do," said Will.

"And I always will love you and I look forward to hearing of your grand career as captain."

"I'll keep that in mind and make sure to cause your brothers a bit of hell."

"Make that a promise," Cutler said, his voice complete with excitement. He pulled away to point his forefinger at Will.

"Done," said Will.

"Well, I believe it is time for me to leave," said Cutler, noticing Bill Turner's figure approaching from the corner of his eye.

He stood at the edge of the ship a moment, debating something then turned. "Billy, you should be proud to have one hell of a son. I know I am."

With one last shared smile between him and Will and a bow of his head, Cutler turned and walked from the ship.

Will watched him walk into the horizon. He turned to his crew. "Go, all of you," he told them. They looked at him. "You have suffered under Davy Jones for longer than I've existed. You deserve peace which is why you are allowed to go." He turned to his father. "I pierced his heart and found a way to release you. I've never abandoned you. I've done my promise. Now go. You're free."

"Freedom, I found, is a point of view. The freedom you promised was a freedom from Jones. I am free from Jones and my debt still hasn't been paid," said Bill leaning against the side.

"Your debt is for eternity," reminded Will.

Bill nodded. "I will serve it all," he told him. He poked the tip of Will's nose with his forefinger. "Besides, you have some explaining to do about what the hell just went on between you two.

"As me some time when we don't have souls to ferry and you and I can talk," said Will.

"William Turner—"

"Father you have some explaining to do as well considering he told me about your right wrist." Will turned from watching the last figure disappear into the distance to look upon his father.

"He told you about that?" noted Bill, uncomfortably shifting from side to side.

"Yes he did," said Will.

"He is right," agreed Maccus. "You are young and new to this ship. I'll remain here until I know you have mastered this duty."

Will looked around at the nods of agreement.

"We've been here years. A few more won't matter," said Wyvern.

"To your duties then," ordered Will softly. Blinking away his tears, he went to the helm.

"Part of you will always be here," whispered Bill.

"That is because Will Turner died and I remember being here. I'm not who I once was. I am Captain Turner now," said Will.

"I meant Charlotte mac," added Bill.

"Why do you call me that?" wondered Will looking at him.

"It means son in my native language," replied Bill softly then said, "tá mé chomh mór sin i ngrá leat."

"What does that mean?" asked Will.

Bill smiled gently. "I love you."

Within the next three months, Captain Turner and his crew had managed to ferry as many souls as they could. The crew worked for hours without much rest. Usually everything was taken in shifts. Will was grateful for their help and work, yet he told them to rest and have at least an hour's break. Even his father gathered souls constantly. Will tried to keep up with them, but being very human and having the habits of the living, he fell asleep on deck many times. He sat down to merely rest his eyes then found he was in his quarters a moment later with bits and pieces of what food and water they had available as he needed it most. The truth to the souls hurt them all deeply. Each one shared their story for Will to keep as record along with their name. Each tale brought more and more pain. Their faces when they realized peace was finally theirs, hurt even more. Most hugged Will while crying and laughing.

Among all the souls were children. The Turners were very popular among them especially Will. He told them stories of his adventure, spoiled them as much as possible, let them play at the wheel, taught them how to parry and strike with a sword, sung pirate chanteys, taught them how to play Liar's Dice, and their favorite was when he played hide and seek with them. After a while, it became increasingly difficult to let them go. It wasn't that he wanted them to stay. He loved their company and the joy they brought into his life. He knew he would never have his own child anyway and if he did he never would be with him or her.

The day Blackbeard and the rest of the great pirates passed onto the ship was they day soul ferrying halted for a week, as Will wanted as much time with the Golden Age pirates as he could. He thought most of the time would be spent speaking with the pirates, but he found himself spending most of it listening to a teenager named Edmund Seastone, who gave his life when he was eighteen to save his older brother Richard, Will's grandfather. While listening to Edmund, Will learned more about his family's past than he could have ever known and delighted in hearing of them.

With most of the chaos having passed, the crew sat down at night and just talked. Many admired their tanned skin and sunburns, though they never complained about them.

It was the first night of peace. Bill let his son be on his own feeling he needed it. Sometime during the night their talk was interrupted by the sound of the organ. It begun as a single note of curiosity, then more notes, a combination of the notes, and eventually rhythms. Some were played over and over with add-ons or change. No one spoke anymore, but gazed at the cabin doors in horror. Bill felt a smile widen across his face. He had forgotten the sound of the organ and Will had a way to release his feelings. The older, more knowing of Jones looked at him and shook their heads silently telling him this was not good. Maccus was one of them.

"He's figured Jones's source of pain," he muttered as he shut his eyes.

"This is bad?" wondered Bill, over hearing.

"Jones played the organ as a way of releasing his pain. He had the organ brought on board as a source of entertainment to pass the years by easier. He knew how to play. He began the random chords and notes as your son is now. To prove his love to his woman, he was determined to make them two music boxes that would keep them together no matter how far apart they really were. When the time came, the song wasn't finished and she was not there. We waited that day and nothing happened. The music boxes were completed a year later. One he kept. The other he threw into the sea. The organ was what made him love her more. It began turning him into the monster he became. Now your son is beginning to do the same," Maccus explained with worry.

Everyone suddenly caught on as to what he was saying. They turned to Bill who shook his head.

"No it will not happen. He will never turn into what Davy Jones became. He will stay true and so will Elizabeth. She loves Will more than her own life. Their love will remain strong and pure," Bill told them.

Fear was even in his eyes. None were sure of Will's actions. Up to this, he remained loyal to his chosen duty. Though, they all knew one wrong move and the monster would return.

Sitting in front of the massive organ, Will pondered. He played the chords and rhythms again. Something didn't seem right. It was off. He changed the notes, and then played again. A smile of satisfaction rose across his face. Four light taps rang throughout the chamber.

"Come," called Will as he turned his head.

"You found the organ I hear," said Bill as he walked in with a smile.

Will scooted off to the side of the bench before Bill sat down.

"Tell me what you think of this," said Will as he set his hands on the ivory keys. He played a few of the things he had put together so far. He glanced at his father when he was finished. Bill still gazed at the keys. He looked at Will with moistened eyes and a look of fright.

"Haunting and yet very beautiful and passionate," he replied.

"I remember hearing this the night we met. Jones was playing it," noted Will as he opened the music box that rested on the ledge above the keys.

"Will," began Bill as he shut the music box bringing the silence once again. "Jones put forth all his feelings and emotion into this song. It was meant to represent his love for Calypso and her love for him. Their love was torn. Jones completed the music box a year after his day on land. This…" he held up the music box. "This began his transformation. It's the reason he cut his own heart out and locked it away. He never had the chance to prove his love to her. The organ still bears much of his pain. He poured everything onto these keys all for love." He grasped his son's shoulder and gazed deep into his rich, brown eyes with a look of pleading. "You must promise me that this song will not turn you into the very thing Davy Jones once was. You will not. Please promise me."

Will took his father's hand and gazed into his eyes. Bill looked at them. They were frightened and determined.

"I will have this finished in ten years. I will have two music boxes, one for me and one for Elizabeth. I never will become the monster Davy Jones allowed to take over him. She will be waiting for me in ten years. When we meet again, she will have something of me. I will remain true. She will as well," said Will confidently.

"Then why do you have more fright than I've ever seen in anyone's eyes before?" asked Bill setting his hand under his son's chin to look into his eyes.

"I won't become a monster. I will finish this. I will stay true," Will told him determined.

Bill nodded. He pulled his son closer as Will began to tremble.

Will shut his eyes and sighed deeply. He promised himself she would be there.

Afraid, Bill shut his own eyes. Once these ten years finally ended, he prayed the tension between everything would loosen. If Will was even afraid, he knew something was wrong.

"Do you know what this is?" wondered Will softly.

"It's called silence mac," replied Bill obviously.

Will shot him a playful glare then pressed his fingers onto the keys and performed an entire song. The song was simple with some chords and straight notes.

After Will finished, Bill set his fingers on the keys and soon produced a full, grand symphony with the organ. He played the same song his son did, but with full chords, challenging rhythms, and softly sang in the language Will supposed was Gaelic because he recognized one phrase: tá mé chomh mór sin i ngrá leat.

"Your mother wrote the music and I the lyrics. We did this while she was pregnant with you," explained Bill. His eyes looked upon the keys. "I have a lot of memories of her and I on the piano."

"My lullaby was the first thing mum taught me," Will told him. "As it turns out, I received piano lessons everyday since I was four to the day I left. I know how to play already."

"So do I," said Bill.

Will bit his lower lip as he looked at his father's hand and his near the keys. "What do you say to you and I creating fond memories on the organ together?"

"I think it sounds wonderful," said Bill with a smile on his face as he reached his fingers over his son's hand to clasp them against his palm. "And if you would like, I can teach you to play the guitar as well."

"You know how to play the guitar?" wondered Will.

Bill nodded. "Jack taught me."

"Jack can play the guitar?" asked Will, astonished. He turned his torso to face his father.

"Aye," replied Bill.

"Never would have guessed him to do that," admitted Will.

"You have no idea who Jack is," said Bill.

"No more than I know you," replied Will, lowering his head.

Gently, Bill took Will's jaw and raised his head. He pressed his lips against Will's forehead. With every intent to suggest asking Will what else he knew how to play, he found his mind all of a sudden not wanting to speak. Will wrapped his arms around his back and pressed his head against his chest. Instead, he pulled Will against his body.

"I think I can begin understanding who you are by doing this," Will whispered from his father's chest.

"I agree little one," replied Bill tenderly.

Beginning the centuries old relationship they would have, father and son simply sat in the comfort of understanding what it was to be held and to hold.

While everyone else went ashore to fetch much needed supplies, Will gazed into the sun. His mind dwelled on Elizabeth. He had last seen her, held her, and kissed her four months ago. He felt alone and unwanted. Even the normal world seemed odd. Nothing seemed to welcome him in the world he once knew and loved. Each moment more and more of him felt lost. Even his own father left him alone. He was the only one aboard the Dutchman. Jack had been right when he said that pirate was in his blood and he would have to swear with it someday. His mind fell from him again. He soon found his hand grasping the key, a habit he acquired over the past month. Underneath that were a scar and a place that once held the heart Elizabeth was now keeping safe with all her life.

"William?"

Will opened his eyes. His father stood over him. Will realized he had fallen asleep against the wheel. He stood and shook it off.

"Did we get everything?" he asked rubbing his eyes, as he looked over the crew.

"Aye," replied Bill. He handed Will a small bundle. "You'll find new clothes and boots inside. I also got you this." He unwrapped the faded, torn bandana from Will's head and set a new one to replace it. The blue cloth shone brightly and appeared iridescent. With each movement and angle of the sun's rays, the blue changed to different shades like the sea. Bill smiled. Will nodded his thanks.

"I won't leave you again Will, at least not until you can step on land. Anything you can't do, I won't either," promised Bill. He snapped as he remembered something then pulled Will onto deck.

"Captain, we are stocked full of supplies and ready to set sail," said Greenbeard.

Will nodded.

"Ten years is a long time to be away from land and land is where your heart is," said Bill as he rummaged through one of the sacks. He handed Will a small glass jar of sand.

Will took the jar and laughed.

"Sand? That is a jar of sand," noted Maccus not seeing the humor. No one but the Turners understood.

It took Will a few moments before he could explain. "While Jack bore the black spot, he was given a jar of dirt. Land was the only place he was safe from Jones. As he traveled out to sea, he always had his dirt with him. Whenever someone even came close to his dirt, he threatened to shoot him." No one seemed to understand still.

"What does a jar of sand have to do with the Captain then?" asked Maccus.

"William cannot step on land for nine years and six months. He can keep a jar of sand to remind him of land. The captain cannot set foot on land but once every ten years. Nowhere does it state that he cannot have a jar of sand with him at all times," added Bill.

They processed this a moment then seemed to understand at once with a simultaneous "Oh."

"Oh, I get it now," said Maccus.

"That's funny," laughed Inido.

Will burst into laughter again. He was laughing so hard he fell onto a barrel behind him.

Bill laughed at his foolishness and took his jar of land before it was dropped all over deck and near Will's feet.

The rest of the crew gazed at Will with wonder. None of them remembered the last time they heard the sound of laughter. It took a moment for Will to realize this. He slowly stopped laughing when he saw their faces.

"It's been so long since I've heard such laughter," noted Wyvern.

"It is wonderful, but sounds foreign," added Greenbeard.

"You'll come accustomed to it soon. Trust me. Jack's jar of dirt is one of many stories I can share," said Will. He turned to his father. "Mr. Turner."

"Aye Captain," said Bill.

"You don't have to call me captain. Please don't call me captain. How many times do I have to tell you?" reminded Will then added, "secondly, we should return to World's End."

"Very well cap…uh…Will," agreed Bill. Rolling his eyes and groaning, Will climbed the stairs to the helm. Bill turned to the crew and ordered, "to your stations." He chased after Will. "Well you are captain."

"What brings you to that conclusion? Is it because I have no heart?" wondered Will sarcastically as he spun the wheel to World's End.

"No…well yes, but…you're missing the point," replied Bill after the flash of green around them.

"You are my father. You do not need to call me captain," said Will.

"It's called respect for my captain," explained Bill.

"Then I order you not to call me captain. A crew member that respects his captain would obey any order given!" shouted Will.

"You can't do that," said Bill.

"Yes I can and I just did!" shouted Will in his face.

The two of them faced each other and argued in each other's faces. The rest of the crew rolled their eyes, but watched in interest. It was amusing though. They were beginning to wrestle each other.

Having returned to World's End for quite some time now, Will sat in his cabin with the sack of clothes given to him. He pulled off his shirt from his back. For a moment, he rubbed the back of his neck then upper back.

Behind him, Bill entered through the door. He stood in the doorway, gazing at Will's back, illuminated by the lantern light. The scars healed nicely, but the memory never did. Each of the five marks scarred his mind more than Will's back. As Will pulled his tunic sleeves across his arms, Bill slowly went to him. He pulled the back of the tunic down.

Startled, Will jumped and a small cry of fright escaped his lungs, immediately turning around. Seeing it was his father, he attempted to smile. A brief moment of smiling and he once again looked lost and alone.

Bill sat beside him and took his hands. "What is it?" he asked with fatherly love.

"You frightened me and I felt nothing," replied Will sadly.

"I know. William, we've been through this hundreds of times before," reminded Bill sternly.

"You're not the one without a heart," whispered Will lowering his eyes, appearing as though he could cry again.

Gently, Bill raised Will's chin. He smiled at him. "You know it doesn't matter to me. You are still my son. From these past four months, I have come to the conclusion that you are one of the most hearted people I have known."

"You're just saying that because you're my father," said Will obviously.

Shaking his head, Bill looked at Will, scolding him. He suddenly smiled as he began tickling Will's sides and belly. Hearing his son laugh and feeling him fall into his body, he couldn't help but to keep going until Will fell off of the cot. Bill laughed even harder now.

Will pulled himself next to his father with frustration. After a moment, he laughed at himself and shook his head. He knew he deserved that.

"Well, you've discovered something about me," he noted.

"Aye. Just like your mother, you're very ticklish," said Bill. He reached for Will's sides. Being the quicker of the two, Will smacked his hand away.

They sat quiet a moment, just looking the other over.

"I see you also have a change of clothes," said Will.

Bill nodded as he flattened the wrinkles in his tunic. He also wore dark brown breeches and boots, black vest, and emerald green velvet coat. Since his hair was pulled back, Will saw two small hoops in his father's left ear.

Sighing, Will stood in front of the mirror, discovering what he looked like. He wore a clean, white tunic, dark brown breeches with embroidery on the side of the legs, and boots that needed to be broken in. He wrapped a dark blue sash around his waist, tucking the ends in. Because his dark blue coat was held out for him, he slid his arms through. Will took his knife from off of the table. As always, he slid it through his sash at the right side.

The Turners looked in the mirror.

"I never realized how much you actually look like me. I knew you looked like me because that is how I knew you were my son, but not this close. All but your eyes and curls belong to me," noted Bill.

"I wish I could have looked like her. Perhaps then I would remember what she looked like," said Will. He went into the captain's cabin, trudging his feet along.

Bill slowly followed his example, including sitting at the mahogany table across from his son. He swung a leg over the arm. Noticing Will had already done that, he shuddered. Will even thought like he did.

"By the way, I'm sorry about earlier," apologized Bill.

"For what?" wondered Will.

"Arguing with you over calling you captain," replied Bill.

"No, I'm the one who should be sorry," said Will. He sighed. "I still have it in my mind that I am not captain. I know it's been four months, but I still don't want to accept it. I especially don't want my father calling me captain because it's not right. You're my father, not a crewmember. Truthfully, you have more control over me than I do over you. You are my father and I should listen to whatever you say and do whatever you request."

"Are you sure about that?" asked Bill, hinting a caution.

"At least I think that's how it works. I'm not really sure. I just want you to tell me what to do. I want you to shout at me for something I've done wrong. You need to teach me to do things and give me advice. You need to look after me. On occasion I want you to push me around and somewhat make me your slave. I want to be your son," said Will.

"You have been a son to me. You've done nothing wrong. I'm the one who's not doing this right," admitted Bill, ashamed. "I don't know how to be a father. I'm thirty-one for the fourteenth year. You would think I'd know how to be a father by now."

"Not if you only had your son for three years, and have spent the rest of your life dreaming about him. I know how you feel. I never knew you and I spent my life dreaming about you," said Will with understanding.

"You and I have had similar pasts. I don't know if you realize that," said Bill.

"Tell me," said Will.

"I'll tell you another time. I'll tell you when you're ready," promised Bill.

"Can I ask you something?" wondered Will. Bill nodded. "Why did you hide when James came aboard?"

Bill slumped. "I thought it would have been obvious. His death was my doing."

"I thought that was the reason," noted Will. "He told me that a member seemed to have lost his mind because he was part of the ship. He told me that this man said no one leaves the ship. Part of the ship, part of the crew."

"I'm sorry. You know I had no control over my mind," reminded Bill.

"I noticed that in the last battle when you nearly killed me," whispered Will, glancing at the scar on his hand.

Knowing very well where that mark came from, Bill took his son's hand into his own. He gently rubbed the tan scar with this thumb.

"No one will ever know how it hurts saving souls, knowing that each one has died. Especially ones I know. Sao Feng. James. Governor Swann," noted Will.

"Weatherby was a good man," agreed Bill.

"I held her back. She just wanted her father. He just wanted to know that she was safe and where she was. It pained me not being able to tell him either. I'm her husband and I cannot be with her all because of this. I had no news of her at all. I haven't seen her face in three months father. It's just a matter of when she is in one of those boats. The day she is, the Dutchman will need a replacement captain immediately or she'll return to the way she was," said Will.

"William no. She'll hold on," Bill assured him, holding his son's hand tighter.

Will looked at their clasped hands in the middle of the table. He glanced at his father's wrist, just looking at things again. Sitting up, he leaned closer over the table. He held his breath as he traced the white, branded P on his father's right wrist. With eyes of wonder and yet, confusion, he turned to his father.

"I don't regret the reason I was marked," Bill told him. "But I do regret not being home enough."

"You know," began Will then bit his lip. "He told me he had two options. Either he had to hang you and Jack or mark you as pirates. A hanging would result in the entire world knowing Jack Sparrow and Bill Turner were pirates and at the name Bill Turner, Charlotte Seastone's husband, he knew our entire family would fall into ruin. And he admitted to me that he would rather sign the papers authorizing you two to be branded pirates rather than authorizing your hangings. You were his best friends and he couldn't condemn you to death just like that. He didn't know how to kill yet and being branded you would be able to live yet."

"And then your grandfather found out," said Bill. "And that was the end of me."

"It doesn't make any sense considering he was Nathaniel Rosewood, one of the pirates of the Golden Trio in the time pirates reigned."

"He was just afraid Will. He knew when he took Gabe and I in and adopted the two of us he was taking a great risk. We were born and raised pirates and me sailing he should have known I wasn't going to stay away. I knew I should have ended my pirating, but I was a naïve teenager who lost his father to the Execution Dock and promised to take care of my baby brother. As it turns out Gabriel was the one taking care of me."

"Father?" wondered Will.

"Aye little one," replied Bill.

"I've heard it, but no one explained to me. How were you two adopted and how did you fall in love with mum because of it?" asked Will.

Bill rubbed the back of is neck. "That's a long story little one."

"We have the time," Will told him obviously.

"All right," said Bill and began the tale. "You already know myself, Gabriel, and our father were pirates. We were caught and brought back to England. On our journey—Will, you must understand this is not simple for me to explain. This was very, very real in my life and still remains clear in my mind."

"I'm not saying anything and I know what happened on the way over," said Will. "Uncle Gabriel told me they tortured you to get information out of him and your father. Your father was useless because he was the adult and wouldn't talk if hurt and Gabriel was only twelve at the time. They knew harm the older son and brother to get the information out of them. Harm the common care of the two. I know."

Relief sighed from Bill as he shut his eyes. One less thing he had to explain to Will. "Seeing as you know that, your grandfather found us in the Execution Docks. Gabe was nearly dead from his head injury and I had a high fever. He managed to save the two of us because I was barely fifteen and Gabe was twelve. We lost our father to the hangman's noose the next day. It was a month before I woke. My lashed back was mostly healed. Gabriel was drawing the day I woke. We were lying in the same room with our beds pushed together. All we had to do was reach our hands out for the other if we needed him.

"And then one day, a twelve year old boy came in. That was the first time I met your Uncle Alex. He was remarkably talented when he was twelve and it was me who began his career in medicine, for it was he not the physician that was keeping an eye on Gabe and I who cleaned my back properly. Alex and I hit it off right away. We felt as though we had known each other our entire lives. Following a night when the physician came and fiddled with my back, I met your mother. Do you know about what happened to your mother?"

"I know she was captured with her mother when she was twelve, but that sums up what I know of it," replied Will.

"Remind me to tell you that tale one day. That one may take longer than this one," said Bill. He opened his mouth to speak more then closed his lips as a thought came over him. "Are you hungry?"

"I don't know," replied Will. He pressed his palms against his belly attempting to feel if there was hunger or not. "I don't know what it is to be hungry. I think I just like eating food. It isn't exactly like we need to eat."

"But do you want to eat?" asked Bill.

"I suppose," replied Will.

"Come on. I here Wyvern is a fine cook," Bill said as he took Will's hand to lead him away giving him no choice.

"I thought he didn't have the brains to do anything but sit against the wall," noted Will.

"New captain, new mind I suppose," said Bill.

Will shrugged. As he approached the galley, his nose did detect something rather good smelling. It was full of blended spices and fresh meats. The entire crew seemed to be huddled around one pot.

"Captain coming through. Move over," Will demanded as he pushed his way through to the front. He inhaled the steam and a wide grin spread across his face. "This smells good."

"Jambalaya," replied Wyvern.

"I don't think the ancient Greeks ate Jambalaya," said Will.

"We didn't, but I picked up a few recipes while we were in port," said Wyvern.

Reaching for a spoon, Bill stirred the pot then lifted the spoon. He gently blew the steam away then sipped. Thoughtfully, he sipped once more. His eyes narrowed then turned to Wyvern. "A tad more of the paprika and parsley."

"I had that in mind before," agreed Wyvern.

"Here," said Bill to his son after a moment. "Have a taste."

Hesitantly yet curious, Will grabbed the spoon. It smelled even better and he sipped. "Mmm." He slurped the rest of the juice. "I'm never letting you leave this ship," he said pointing to Wyvern.

"Actually this is your father's recipe," Wyvern told him.

Will's jaw tensed as he turned to his father with a raised eyebrow. "You cook too? We've been with each other for four months and never once you mention to me you can cook."

"I used to cook for your mother all the time," said Bill.

"What else do I not know about you?" asked Will.

"A lot," replied Bill. "So let's get two bowls of food and get back to talking."

"Yeah," said Will, reaching around the hungry hands for two bowls.

In a few moments, father and son were sitting on Will's cot with their backs against the wall and a plate of fresh fruit and biscuits in front of them with their bowls in their lap.

"Well, what can I say about your mother. It was literally love a first sight. I loved her the moment I laid my eyes on her. She of course was afraid of me, but I'll explain why another day. After a few months, Gabe and I were hobbling around the manor and being treated like two of Richard's sons. As you could imagine, the rest of noble London thought Richard was absolutely mad for treating us as well as he was and allowing us to stay. Adoption is a touchy matter and a high noble lord adopting two criminals was nearly taboo. Richard helped Gabriel get into school with Alex and he found me a career. I joined the Royal Navy as you know and Jack joined me. We sailed—are you all right?"

Will was choking and wiping his face since he had unwillingly inhaled a spoonful of the stew and swallowed a breath of air in return. He turned to his father with moist, wide eyes. "Jack Sparrow was in the Royal Navy?"

"He didn't mention that?" wondered Bill.

"Why would Jack mention that to me?" asked Will.

"Not him, Beckett," corrected Bill.

"No, he just said you two pirated on the African coast and when you were brought before him he had to make a choice because he was a marine," replied Will.

"Oh, yes, Jack was a marine right along beside me. You see, he and his father—"

"Jack has a father?" Will interrupted.

"Edward Teague is his father," replied Bill.

"Who?" wondered Will.

"Were you not at the court meeting?" asked Bill, his turn for curiosity.

"No, I was betraying piracy on the Endeavor," replied Will.

"Oh, well then remind me to tell you about Jack and Teague," said Bill.

Will sighed heavily and disgusted. "I don't think I'm ever going to have everything explained to me if I am captain for eternity."

Bill gently slapped his arm. "Tish tosh William. I'll get there eventually. You wanted to know about me and I am enlightening you about me. Now, anyway, things were going perfect between us all. We were formally announced as Richard Seastone's adopted son's at the Christmas Celebration nearly a year after he found us. The next two years were perfect as perfect could be. Gabriel and I did have a difficult time adjusting to our new noble lives and accepting that our father was dead. Society took a while to accept us. All was well until Charlotte turned fifteen. For some reason at her birthday celebration, I realized I did love her. We were siblings so we tried to keep our feelings for each other backed away. We knew the secret peeks we had seen of each other through keyholes or, in my case, with my spyglass in the tree house, of us changing clothes and bathing. Don't look at me like that William."

"I'm not," said Will, turning his cherry red face away from his father. "I did the same to Elizabeth and she to me."

"Exactly," said Bill. He paused from his story to devour a few bites of pineapple and washed it down with rumbullion, his favorite mixed rum drink. "Anyway, at the twins' celebration she realized she loved me too. The young bachelors all danced with her and said words of "beautiful as the rising sun", "eyes that shine like the stars and smile of the crescent moon", and "that dress flatters your figure" while I told her "she had a huge dot on her nose and forehead", "eyes that were the exact same as her brothers and I saw her brother more than her", and "that dress makes you look fat it has so many layers or perhaps you should tighten that corset more because your chest is far too small". I was a seventeen years old. You were once seventeen too so you can't argue with that. Well, a few nights later she and I were in the library like we always were at night. I was sitting on one side of the sofa and she was sitting on the opposite. Never once will I know who moved first, but that was the first time we kissed. It was perfect. I discovered that was what lovers did on rainy nights. We knew we had to keep our feelings secret so we found a room in the West Wing and claimed it to ourselves.

"The next few months, no one knew we were seeing each other and playing secret lovers. It was summer when Alexander and Gabriel found us in her garden. We weren't doing anything bad. All right so we were passionately kissing under the sun and my hand may have been slowly following her leg and pushing her dress up. They caught us when her dress was to her thighs. Your mother and I had no choice but to confess our relationship and to our surprise, they knew. They just liked spying on us. And that summer, we did something. I wanted her to be ready. I was ready. I was so very ready, but I knew why I was ready. I did it when I was fourteen and I loved this woman. Because I loved her, I left it to her. I left everything to her. We were in our room just talking that night. She was going to go back to school in two days and we would be separated again. She made the first move and we did everything except one. It was the look in her eyes and the way she was caressing me and the way she said the words "do it" that I knew she was ready. And that night, we made love to each other for the first time and we knew we wanted to marry each other. The next day wasn't awkward or nervous. We carried on normally and that's how we knew, I knew, we were both ready. She went to school and I returned to my job sailing with Jack and Cutler. The Christmas Celebration came along and we almost did it again that night after the guests had left."

"What?" Will asked. "You're hiding something from me. Oh come on father, I'm twenty two years old. I've done everything. What?"

"Between you and me, I snuck to her school the weekends they had town visit and we—you know, then too," said Bill.

"You were a bad boy weren't you?" asked Will with a smile.

Bill shrugged. "I was stupid teenager in love Will. You know what stupid teenagers in love can do."

"At least you didn't get her pregnant," said Will.

"Ah, about that. She thought she was. She was a month and a half late," said Bill.

Will's eyes widened and mouth dropped. He turned away not sure of what to say. "Oh."

"Anyway, winter break arrived and I was eighteen. I bought her a nightgown for Christmas. It was a very tasteful nightgown and appropriate for her age. After Christmas, a few days after, we were in our room playing you could say and it just happened again, but this time it was more rough than we had ever done it before. Richard left on business for a few days and we hurt ourselves you could say. Your uncles thought it was amusing though. Gabriel thought we were disgusting but Alexander, Alex had already done it too."

"Beg pardon?" interrupted Will.

"Another story of another day," said Bill. "Continuing on, we did it once more on the break and they went back to school. I to her school two more times and I made a huge mistake doing that. Richard found out. I was sent on a year and half long journey to India. Charlotte was told to take interest in someone else and she did. He was the son of a French Duke. His name, if I recall correctly was Stéphane Descoteaux. She fell for him completely and joined him in France. His father thought it was for educational purposes, as did Richard. No, they were lovers and they did share the same bed on many nights. On his eighteenth birthday, it was announced that he was betrothed and to marry the following summer. He didn't know about this And because he couldn't have the woman he loved, he and Charlotte spent nearly every night sneaking around. After a month of it, he asked her to stay with him forever, and be his lover. She could never answer him, for his father found the two of them in the same bed the following morning. Lottie arrived home a month earlier than expected and, when told why, not even Richard knew." He looked at Will. "Are you sure you want to hear more?"

Will nodded. "How horrible can it be?"

"He got your mother pregnant," replied Bill. As Will gazed at his father oddly, there was a deep silence filling them both until Bill continued. "When Alexander and Gabriel returned home for Winter Break, Lottie was nearly two months pregnant. Alex poisoned his sister. He literally poisoned her to deathly ill. Somehow his crazy idea worked. Her body was weak and needed all energy to fight the poison and, in the process, destroyed and rid itself of the two month old in her. She was in bed until about a week before the second term of schooling began. I heard that all she did was sleep and she lost a too much of her normal body weight. It frightened Richard nearly to death because no one knew what it was and it killed Alex to watch his father call upon every physician nearby, sit beside her every night, pray, hope, talk to her and it killed himself knowing he was the one poisoning his little twin sister while she slept.

"Happily, however, one morning in May, I walked through the doors of the manor. Richard explained everything to me so she wouldn't have to. I understood completely. For about two weeks I stayed in the manor resting and recovering from my long journey. Thirteen year old Jack clung to me. He missed me dearly. Two weeks later, I heard three very familiar voices, one of which I had missed the most. I made my grand entrance down the grand staircase as they greeted Richard. When Gabe saw me, he must have simply appeared out of nowhere because he called my name then he was on top of me. It felt wonderful to hold my baby brother again and Alex. Lottie, like I thought, was hesitant to say hello. Before anything got weird, I told her Richard told it all to me and I had a few women to myself as well, including my first. Alese. My old girlfriend and I had a week together under the Caribbean sun. A boulder to my body was what I felt when she told me she was engaged while we were saying our goodbyes. I slept with this women every night for a week and here she tells me she's engaged to be married. Fortunately, she answered her question of which one she loved more and that was her fiancé.

"That summer, I asked Richard one very important question and the day before the summer celebration Charlotte and I went through a walk in her garden. She noticed something on one of the flowering roses; it was a simple diamond ring. When she turned to ask me where this had come from, I was already on one knee. The next day, we announced our engagement and May 20 the next year, your mother and I married. We had two years to ourselves like we wanted. Ironically, on a rainy day in December someone was created. Valentine's Day she told me she was carrying you. Seven months of preparing for a baby, including writing a few good lullabies passed and August 22, 1745 you just a bundle in one arm. I loved you the moment I saw you…the moment I held you. It is difficult to remember holding you in one arm and seeing you sitting here now a grown man."

"How did you decide on my name?" wondered Will curious.

"Your mother," replied Bill with a smile. "She loved the name William. It was noble and strong, like you were, and she said she would love to have two of me. I called you Will from the beginning. That is how we were distinguished when one wanted either of us. As for your middle names I chose Jonathan and she chose Alexander. Alexander was chosen for obvious reasons and Jonathan was after my best friend."

"Jack?" Will wondered after a moment.

"Your uncle and Jack Sparrow are your namesakes. Jack doesn't know," said Bill.

Lowering his eyes to his father's wrist, Will had one more question. "What happened on that day?"

Following his son's gaze, Bill knew this was not something he could simply tell Will to wait for another day. This was the one thing he had to explain to his little one. "I walked through the door and a little three year old greeted me. My arm was still so very sore, but that wasn't going to prevent me from picking you up and swinging you around. As I swung you around, my sleeve lowered enough for Richard to see the mark. He gave me the next day then told me I had to leave. He told me it was a mistake allowing me to stay. Repeatedly he reminded me to stay away from piracy and when he asked if I regretted what I had done to receive the brand I told him no. He never allowed me to explain. And I realized something: for as long as I was marked a pirate around you, I would never live in peace. Should anyone see the mark it would mean my hanging and the end of our family's name. Hiding the mark would result in me losing my mind for fear of something slipping. I was terrified and I knew I messed up horribly. I should have just stopped pirating, but pirate was in my blood. Because I loved you and I thought you deserved better, I packed up everything and left. The note I left didn't mean I couldn't be your father, it meant I couldn't keep doing this to you. I couldn't keep living two worlds and the world chose what path I was to follow.

"And for six years I followed that path with Jack Sparrow. We both sailed the world making a living off honest pirating. Following six years, we came upon a legendary treasure and decided to go for it. I'm sorry for the part I played in Jack's mutiny. I wasn't included formally in the planning but I knew about it and I never told Jack. When it came time to mutiny, I still did nothing. I didn't want to end up marooned like Jack. I had every intent of keeping my mouth shut and returning home. I thought taking one piece of the treasure to give to you as a gift on my return was most appropriate. You loved hearing stories of the pirates and the necklace we assumed was worn by Cortez himself. Little did I know then. By the time we reached London to sell the treasure, I had every intent of taking you with me. That night, I snuck into the manor and to your room. I stood over you for quite a while debating to leave the coin with you or take you with me. My soul chose to take you with me, but when you woke in my arms as I picked you up, I knew I couldn't. You looked at me for a moment and smiled and fell right back to sleep in my arms. I couldn't risk your life like I had done with mine. I ruined my own life and I wasn't going to ruin yours as well. I wanted to take you with me, but taking you with me was like living two lives again. Instead, I left the medallion at your side. If you wanted to end up a sailor or pirate like I wanted you to, it would be made upon your own decision. When I peeked into your mother's room, I noticed she was very heavy with child. I was a fool to believe she had moved on, but at the time that's what I thought. Not giving a damn about anything, I attempted my hand at my own mutiny against Barbossa in honor of Jack and he sent me to the bottom of the ocean. The rest of my story you know."

Will nodded his head. He turned away as he bunched his sleeve over is knuckles to wipe the tears from his eyes. Arms around his shoulders pulled him into his father's body. Listening to his father's story and how very wrong of his father he was, the guilt pained the cavern where his heart should have been. There was a burning going through him. In the attempt to hide it, he buried is face into his father's chest.

Bill further tightened his grasp on Will, causing his boy to curl his knees against his body. "I know this is a selfish thing to say, but it is how I feel. I will never regret this choice of you as captain. We are both trapped here, on this ship together. Anything you can't do for any reason, I will not do either," he promised.

"Your wife does not have to live in pain for ten years because you are the one bound to this ship. You still can go ashore freely. You're free to leave whenever you want. You will never know what I do," said Will. He pulled away to look at his father with pleading eyes.

"That is where you are wrong son. I swore to take care of you," said Bill. He moved his head forward to press his lips against Will's forehead.

His lower lip trembling again, Will simply gave up trying to hide his small quirk of emotion and leaned against his father's body. Listening to his father's heart comforted him and feeling his warm arms tightly around him made him feel less alone than he felt. But when his father softly told him that he loved him, Will quietly began sobbing.

And like he promised, Bill hushed him and rocked back and forth gently comforting his pain.