Lord Knows I Can't Change

Chapter Ten

Bootstrap flinched every time someone addressed the man as captain.

Barbossa was not a captain; merely a coward who had gotten rid of the Pearl's true captain and had taken over the title because he was not capable of gaining it on his own.

            Bootstrap couldn't comprehend how the Pearl's crew could be so incredibly blind. Their captain was nothing more than a fraud, a pathetic imposter. How could they not see it when it was so very evident? Jack was their captain, their true captain, and a bloody good one at that. But they had marooned him, betrayed him, left him on an island to die as if he were nothing.

Jack had just been the key that they had needed to get to their precious treasure.

Again, they had been blind, and this time they were paying for it.

            "Captain Barbossa!" The plagiarizing captain turned away from the window and peered at Pintel, who was standing at the doorway to what used to be Jack's cabin, but was now Barbossa's. "You ordered for me and Ragetti to bring you Bootstrap, sir, and he's right here… -Shall I send him in?" Upon seeing the man nod, Pintel stepped away from the doorway and forcefully pushed Bootstrap in and then slammed the door shut. Bootstrap frowned in irritation and rested his eyes on Barbossa, who had turned back to the window.

            "What do you want?" He asked, his tone layered with ice and laced with revulsion. It was bad enough that he was forced to sail on the same ship as the man; he didn't want to be in a room with him as well.

            "Now, William, that's no way to greet your captain, now is it?"

            "You're not my captain, Barbossa." Barbossa sniggered and turned away from the window, walking towards the man. Bootstrap just watched him, one eyebrow raised in suspicion.

            "Last time I checked, William Turner, the captain is the person in control of the ship," he narrowed his eyes at Bootstrap and leaned against the table. "And since this is my ship and I'm in control of it, I'm the captain…-Your captain." 

            "This is not your ship you lying bastard, it's Jack's, and you damn well know that." He glared at the man. Barbossa simply shook his head.

            "Jack is dead."

            "You killed him."

            "Put him out of his misery is more like it. Jack was too trusting. He would have gotten himself killed sooner or later, but luckily I beat everyone to it." A grin spread across his face at the mention of Jack's death, as if he were proud that he had been the one to commit it.

Had Barbossa not been cursed, Bootstrap was sure that he would have killed the man at that very second.

            Bootstrap narrowed his eyes at him and turned on his heel to go. If he could not kill him, he did not want to have to look at him, have to be with him.

            "Where are you going, William?" Bootstrap reached for the handle to the door, clearly ignoring Barbossa. He was far too angry to speak logically, and he wasn't even entirely sure that he could look at the man without attacking him, even if it would prove pointless. Bootstrap pulled open the door and jumped when Barbossa pushed it shut.

He looked at the man.

            "Don't leave yet, I didn't tell you the good news," Barbossa said softly, his grin widening. Bootstrap glared at him, at that grin, and reached for the handle once more, groaning in frustration when the captain once again slammed it shut.

            "God damnit, Barbossa, just let me leave!"

            "Ye don't want to hear the good news?"

            "The only news that would sound good to my ears is the news of your death." Bootstrap's tone was low, angry, his eyes boring into Barbossa's, daring the man to push the door shut again. Barbossa did nothing but titter and push him away from the door. Bootstrap ran into the table and stumbled slightly before regaining his footing, glaring at the man with hate that could not be described with words. Barbossa moved in front of the door, leaning back against it and crossing his arms.

            "Let me tell you the good news, William." Bootstrap said nothing. "Since you won't shut up about your captain, I'm going to do you a small… Favor." Bootstrap rose an eyebrow in confusion. Barbossa chuckled. "Ye haven't stopped your belly achin' about him since we marooned him, which was how long ago, William?" Bootstrap narrowed his eyes, knowing that Barbossa knew.

            The bastard… "Nearly two days ago," he said dryly, "a day and a half ago."

            "So we gave you time to get over it, and you didn't, and frankly, William Turner, we're tired of hearing about it." Bootstrap watched Barbossa's hand travel to his pistol and grab hold of it, raising it to viewing level. He ran his thumb over the edge and looked away from Bootstrap. "So, we're returnin' you to your captain," he looked back at him. "You can die as well." Barbossa raised the pistol and put his finger to the trigger, pulling it before Bootstrap could even have time to react. Barbossa watched with amusement as the younger man gasped loudly in shock, his eyes growing wide and his face growing pale. Bootstrap stumbled back, hitting the window.

Moonlight consumed him, moonlight that had come back out from behind the clouds.

Moonlight that revealed Bootstrap's secret.

He was a skeleton; he was under the Aztec Curse. Barbossa stared at the man in utter shock.

            The bullet fell from his rib cage and landed on the floor with a loud clink; the swaying of the ship immediately sending it towards Barbossa. It hit his foot and abruptly stopped. Barbossa looked down at it and then back at Bootstrap, who, in return, was looking at him.

* * *

Bootstrap shook his head and rubbed his throbbing temple with his fingers.

Just as he was beginning to think that the painful memories had left…-What did he have to do to make them leave?!

Moonlight poured in from the tiny window in Jack's cabin; the same window that Bootstrap had run into twelve years ago.

            The door was the same door that Barbossa had slammed shut twelve years ago… The table was the same table that Barbossa had pushed him into twelve years ago… The floor was the same floor that Barbossa and he had walked on that night twelve years ago…

Twelve years ago had suddenly become the present.

He found it better if he didn't look at the moonlight.

            Bootstrap closed his eyes. It was too quiet. Why had he suggested that the other three get some sleep and that he would stay awake and keep watch? Why had he been so foolish as to offer that?! Silence was bad, silence was when the memories came, was when the yesterdays beckoned him! He hated silence, avoided silence, yet he had suggested silence!? How could he have been so bloody ignorant?!

Bootstrap quickly opened his eyes, concentrating on the sea. If he just listened to her then it wouldn't be hushed. The memories wouldn't come. The yesterdays wouldn't call him.

            Bootstrap rested his gaze on his son. The lad was asleep on Jack's bed with Elizabeth at his side. He had a troubled expression and Bootstrap frowned at that. He had finally found his son and hadn't even acknowledged him, hadn't even tried to talk to him. All Bootstrap had done was tend to Jack's wounds and then explain the curse. Not once did he hug Will, not once did he smile at Will, not once did he even say Will! He had ignored him, completely and utterly ignored him!

Will became blurry, as did Bootstrap's mind. The sea was suddenly soundless.

* * *

            Barbossa finally managed to tear his eyes away from Bootstrap's and he leaned down, snatching up the bullet. He rose it to his eyes and inspected it closely, noting that it had blood on it, had been covered in blood. He looked at his fingers, which were also that same color red and rubbed them together, feeling that sensation that could only be caused by the feel of blood. His eyes ran back to Bootstrap.

            "You took a coin." It was not a question, and Bootstrap simply smirked in response. Barbossa angrily threw down the bullet and started to walk towards the man. "You took a coin!" He reached him and grabbed him by the shirt, his hands immediately becoming bone and decaying flesh. "You lying son of a bitch! You said you took none!" Barbossa shook him. "You said you took none!"

            Bootstrap grinned. "Barbossa, why would I tell you the truth?" Barbossa's eyes roamed over his and he growled, pushing Bootstrap up against the wall.

            "Where is it?" He yelled. "Where the hell is the coin?!" Bootstrap said nothing. Barbossa's eyes roamed over his once more, his expression deepening in fury when Bootstrap didn't answer. Furiously, he grabbed Bootstrap by the wrist and forcefully dragged the man to the door and out of the cabin. He dragged him up the stairs and onto the deck of the Pearl where the skeletal crew was.

            "What are you doing?!" Bootstrap demanded, trying to pull away from Barbossa. "Let me go!" Barbossa only tightened his grip around the younger man's wrist. Clouds covered the moon as Barbossa threw Bootstrap against the railing of the ship, hollering for various members of the crew.

            "Sir?" Bo'sun answered as he and three other crew members walked over to Barbossa.

            "Since I can't obviously kill you, William, I'll do the next best thing." Bootstrap stood to his feet and pushed past Barbossa in an attempt to get away from him. "Grab him!" Barbossa ordered, and Bo'sun and Twigg did so; pulling the man down and tightening their grips when he tried to break free. Bootstrap stopped his struggles a few seconds later as a frightening realization dawned on him.

It was a ship, they were on a ship. He had no where to go.

            "Mr. Turner lied to us, gents, he's cursed… -He deserves a punishment of sorts, no?" The four crew members sniggered and nodded. Barbossa grinned. "Well then, a punishment he shall receive." Fear filled Bootstrap's eyes as he watched Barbossa and Pintel drag one of the cannons towards him. Instinctively, he panicked and wreathed under Bo'sun and Twigg's tight hold, trying to get free.

            "No!" He yelled and kicked at Barbossa, growling when Koehler held down his legs. "Damn you Barbossa!" Barbossa laughed as he finished strapping the struggling man securely to the cannon. He then ordered the four crew members to roll the cannon to the side of the boat. "Barbossa you back stabbing bastard!" Bootstrap yelled furiously and raised his head to look at the man. Anger shone in his eyes like the sun shone on the sea. "I hope you burn in hell for this and for what you did to Jack! You deserve hell, you all do! You deserve to be cursed and remain cursed!" Pintel took the rag that Twigg offered him and tied it around Bootstrap's mouth, successfully quieting the man. Upon seeing Barbossa's nod of approval, the four men rolled the cannon to the edge of the ship and, with one final deceptive smirk at Bootstrap, pushed it overboard.

The cannon immediately started to sink into the crushing black oblivion of Davy Jones' Locker.

Within seconds, Bootstrap was out of sight. Barbossa grinned.

* * *

            "Keepin' watch I see." Bootstrap jumped out of his memories with a start and narrowed his eyes at Barbossa. "How very like you." His tone was dripping with smut. 

            "Go away, Barbossa." Bootstrap growled through clenched teeth. He had had just about enough of the man. More than enough actually. Bootstrap was tired of Barbossa; it was as simple as that. He was tired of him and of his lies, yet he could not rid himself of the man. Bootstrap sighed.

            Barbossa chuckled. "Now that's not very nice, William."

            "So?"

            "Ye better be nice to me, William Turner." Barbossa grinned.

            Bootstrap narrowed his eyes. "Give me one good reason..."

            "I can give ye three," he answered and pointed at Jack, Will and Elizabeth. Bootstrap followed his finger and grew wide eyed, immediately looking back at Barbossa. The older man's grin only grew and Bootstrap had to keep himself from doing anything drastic. "Wouldn't want nothin' bad happenin' to them now would ye?"

            What he wouldn't give to be able to murder this man! "You already hurt one."

            "Aye, one, there be two more. Plus I could always just hurt Jack more." Bootstrap just stared at the man in disbelief, his eyes narrowing. Barbossa grinned. "So, ye better be nice to me," Barbossa walked towards the man, purposely stopping in the moonlight. Bootstrap grimaced as his skin was replaced with bones and decaying flesh. Barbossa lowered his tone. "'Cause how you act towards me is how I act towards them." Barbossa smiled at Bootstraps expression. "Ta." Bootstrap watched him leave and winced when he slammed the door shut; sighing with relief when he saw that he didn't wake any of the three people. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed as he glanced over at Will and at the troubled expression that still rested on his face.

Bootstrap leaned his head against the wall and shut his eyes.

Come morning he would meet his son. In a few days, he would murder his enemy.

He was sure of both.

To Be Continued…

AN: I have been working on this chapter literally since 1 something this afternoon, and it is now 4:31 AM. This is what happens when you rewrite parts and edit too many times. This chapter was one of the more difficult ones to write because I had to make sure it coincided with previous chapters about his past. I did my best, though, and I hope it doesn't suck.

Isabel left us without power Thursday-Saturday and then it kept cutting off Saturday and I was afraid to write anything, so that's why this chapter is so late.

I'll update ASAP!

Please review on your way out! :)