Hey peoples! This is a shortish chapter, so sorry. Also it's time to bring in Will Turner! WOOOHOOO! I recently discovered that there are two Wills in this fic, which makes things really hard.
None of this is mine.
William Turner couldn't believe what he was seeing. Ever since meeting Captain Jack Sparrow it seemed as if nothing could surprise or disturb him, but here he was, watching in horror as the crew of the Flying Dutchman mercilessly flogged a young boy, passing the whip amongst themselves, laughing and taking bets on who could get the biggest reaction out of the boy. The boy must have been only 14 or 15 years old, yet he barely whimpered at his treatment, as though he was used to it. His ebony hair laid against his forehead amidst the crimson blood, the contrast making him impossibly pale. His back was just red, like a reverse apple after the peal has been eaten away.
One of the crew members, the one with the shell for a head gestured to Will, holding out the bloodied whip. "You want a go?" Will stepped back, shaking his head. He couldn't hurt this boy. No matter the circumstances he was in he was not a pirate.
"Oh come on," another crew member said.
"No really, I'm okay. I don't want to."
The other crew members crept toward Will like a hoard of jackals, glaring at him and hissing at him and edging him on. "Is there a problem?" They all turned to see Davy Jones standing there next to Will's father, Bootstrap Turner.
"'E doesn't want to take a turn with the kid." One of the crew members said.
"Interesting," Davy Jones mused. "Why not?"
"I'm not very fond of the idea of beating an innocent kid." Will crossed his arms, glancing over at the boy who was lying on the ground, shaking.
"It's either him, or your father." Jones shoved Will's dad forwards.
"No!" Will was starting to panic. The whip was forced into his hand.
Then there was a small voice from behind him, thin and scratchy from abuse. "Do it."
He turned to the boy, who was staring at him with determination. "No way."
"You shouldn't have to hurt your own father. And besides, I've had worse. It's okay, really." The boy was trying to sound reassuring, but Will could hear a hint of fear in his voice. Still, when given the choice between this stranger and his own father, there wasn't much contest.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
Will looked down at the whip in his hand, blood dripping from the tip, than looked back at the boy, steeling himself for the impact. "I'm sorry," he muttered, before bringing the whip down hard enough to make a slapping noise, but no more.
Davy Jones came up behind him, whispering in his ear. "Again. Harder." Will brought the whip down again with more force than before, blood splashing against the deck and earning a little whimper from the boy. "Harder." Will looked away and brought the whip down with even more force, wincing when he heard the boy scream.
"I'm sorry," Will said again. They struggled through seven more lashes before the boy passed out completely and a crew member carried him roughly below deck.
The other crew members cleared out to do their jobs, laughing and jeering about what had just happened. Will slumped down against a mast with his head in his hands. He could not believe he just did that. The boy's screams still echoed in his head. His father sat down next to him. "Thanks, Will."
Will glared at him. "Thanks for what? For beating a kid instead of you? A real father wouldn't have let me do that!"
"There was no easy way out of that situation. You handled it well."
"I hurt him! Hell! I was torturing him!"
"You're only human, Will. No one is completely good or bad. That was the best option you had."
Will remained silent, staring at the whip lying in the middle of the deck, soaking in the puddle of the boy's blood. "Where did they take him?" Will asked, surprisingly worried out the kid.
"He has a cell below deck. If you wanted to talk to him I'll warn ya he sleeps like a rock. It's pretty tough waking him up at all."
"How long has he been here?"
"This is his fourth day here. Ya know there something off 'bout that kid. The Capn' keeps sayn' he smells bad. And then there's the way 'e got 'ere." Will raised his eyebrows. "We didn't take 'im out of a port or off a ship or anything. He just appeared. Stepped out of the shadows like some sort of ghost or something. I don't think 'e's human."
Will chuckled, but then looked over to his father only to find that he was completely serious. He didn't respond; the look on his father's face was too serious and too scary. Instead he stood to go down to the cell, hoping to at least apologize for what he had done.
When he made it to the cells it wasn't hard for Will to find who he was looking for. There was only one cell that was occupied. All of the other had doors that were broken or hanging open or so covered in grime and barnacles it was hard to tell if they were actually doors. The boy was in the farthest cell, at the end or the hall. When he reached him, he didn't have any trouble getting in the cell because it wasn't even locked.
He was obviously conscious. He was slumped in the far corner, his knees hugged to his chest as he sobbed brokenly. Will moved next to him carefully, sliding to the ground against the wall. The boy tried to move away but he was pressed against the wall next to him, his eyes flashing with fear. "Please…" he whimpered.
"Ssh...Hey…I'm not going to hurt you." Will held his hands up like he was calming a wild animal and knelt next to him.
He looked at Will, disbelief written all over his face. "W-why not? Everyone else does..."
Will's heart broke at the utter despair in the boy's expression. "But that's not right... You shouldn't have to go through this. This is cruel." Then his father's words crossed his mind. I don't think he's human.
"What's your name?" Will said this softly, but the boy jumped out of his skin. His eyes filled with so much fear they seemed to be glowing, and he looked like a dog being told to do two things at once, confused and afraid and betrayed. Then, like a dog, he lowered his head in what could only be described as a position of submission. When the boy spoke his voice was so soft Will had to lean in to hear him.
"Whore…My name's whore." The boy said shakily. Will reeled back in shock. Did he just say what he thought he said?! Then with a jolt Will realized the implication of what the trembling boy in front of him had said.
"No…you must have had another name before that one. Can you tell me what it is?" The boy was quickly falling apart at the seams, his breaths starting to come fast and ragged. Will kept coaxing him however.
"Come on, I'm not going to hurt you, but you must prefer to be called that other name, right?" After a minute the boy nodded hesitantly. Will smiled in encouragement. "Well, if you tell me it, I'll call you that name. It's okay if you don't want to, but I'd like it if you did." The boy looked conflicted, staring intensely at the floor in front of him. Then, even softer than the first time he spoke a name, he whispered.
"Nico." Nico immediately flinched violently and he fell back into the dark, barnacle encrusted corner which he had slightly sat up from.
"Nico." Will gave a wide grin at thin child in front of him. "It's nice to meet you Nico! My name's Will." His eyes snapped up. The shaking child looked so lost, but Will quickly moved on, not giving Nico time to dwell on the current subject. "How did you end up here?"
He looked at Will, trying to judge his intentions. Will tried to keep that same grin on his face. "I-It's a long story. You shouldn't waste your time on me…" He stared at the floor, clearly avoiding eye contact.
Will could see in his body language how close to breaking down he was. "I have plenty of time to waste while I wait for the ship I was on to come and get me." He could see tears rush to the boy's eyes and Will knew he had struck a chord. "You're waiting for someone too?"
He gave a small nod.
"I'm going to clean you up. I'll be back in a moment." Will left, his mind reeling. He came back with a bucket of the cleanest water he could get his hands on and a rag. He knelt next to Nico.
"Can you lie on your stomach?" The child tensed and seemed to physically shrink as though he was trying to make Will's eyes skip right over him. "I'm not going to hurt you." Will soothed. "It's okay. I just want to clean up your back." Nico hesitantly consented, and sprawled out in front of Will.
He wet the rag and started gently wiping all of the blood, grime, and dirt off of the child's back, then turning him over to work on his front side and face. For the first time, Will was able to see his midnight black eyes. They were full of pain and anguish; far too much for one so young to carry.
Will thought of himself when he was Nico's age. Traipsing around Port Royale in his free time, taunting the sea gulls and learning fencing from his Master. The worst thing that happened to him was getting five lashings for ruining a sword in play. He could only imagine the horrors Nico had experienced, and there was no way he could have survived that as a child. He didn't know if he could survive that now.
