Discovery, Part 2: Jack
When he said he'd die for this girl, Jack Sparrow had had doubts. Only fools laid down their life for the sake of someone else. While things about this lad -- this Will -- fairly screamed rash and hasty, foolish was not something Jack would have said of him.
Prone to doing stupid things, maybe. That was more part of hastiness, an impatience that his father had demonstrated more often that once or twice. That had often gotten ol' Bootstrap Bill into trouble. Jack had to come to his rescue more than once. Sometimes it was a trifle, a bill not paid for some little thing or the other, an angry girl. Other times, it was deadly serious.
Looked like it was happening all over again. Will stood on the railing, pistol to his own head.
Oh, look. Stupidity.
How often did I have to save your father, lad?
Barbossa asked him who he was.
Jack winced. "Nobody." He lept in front of Barbossa and launched into a spiel, not even sure of what he was saying, speaking for the sake of speaking while he thought. What was it with these Turners? "Lovely singing voice." No wonder people thought him mad; he was certainly sounding it. "Eunuch."
"My name is Will Turner."
Oh, wonderful. Stupidity. That's what it was. The Turner men were overflowing with stupidity.
"He's the spittin' image of our Bootstrap."
Aye, that he was. Jack frowned. Not stupidity, he thought as he caught of sight of Elizabeth's wide eyes, brimming with unshed horrified tears.
Passion.
He's the spittin' image of old William Turner, all right, mate. In more ways than one.
They both were filled with passion.