Author's Note: A lot of POTC fic writers seem to have been smitten by the idea of what became of Bootstrap Bill. This fic started out that way but developed into something else. I don't really know how it will turn out, but I'm enjoying writing it!

Disclaimer: I don't own it. Disney does. No disrespect is intended. I am making no money from this and write it only for my own amusement.

Please read and review. (Special thanks to those who have! Responses at the end of the chapter.)

A Pirates Life and Death part 3 by Ecri

Will Turner understood why Killian had rejected his offer and sold Elizabeth. Killian had no use for a blacksmith for any length of time, since, if he wanted weapons he stole them. If he wanted anything Will could forge for him, he would steal it, and offering himself as a slave was hardly reasonable since Killian already possessed that.

His mind worked feverishly trying to think of a way to get back to Tongo and buy Elizabeth's freedom. The number of obstacles to that goal seemed overwhelming, and, in truth, he had thought for awhile that it was impossible, but now it was the only though that gave him hope.

He was hard at work, repairing a ripped sail. The work was undemanding and left his mind free to plan his own escape. He had finally determined that escape was next to impossible. They sailed to an island called Scratch, but even when they stopped along the way for supplies, Will was always shackled and locked in the captain's quarters with a full guard outside the door. He thought it odd they took such care to keep him aboard when the other slaves were not watched half as carefully.

There was something in this. What interest could Killian have in him? Why was he being singled out? Could it have something to do with his background? His father? Was Bootstrap Bill the sort of pirate who had many mortal enemies who might be likely to visit their revenge upon Bootstrap's son if the Pirate himself was not available? There were too many questions, and not nearly enough information. He would have to find out more about this man, but he couldn't come out and ask the captain, could he?

Then again, why not? One thing he had learned in the months he'd served Killian was that the man was vain. If Will showed enough respect and deference to the man, he might be flattered enough to tell more than he should.

No, that wouldn't work. Aside from being vain, he was also paranoid. Will doubted even the crew knew much one way or the other about where they were going and why. Of course, he had nothing to lose by trying to find more information.

That evening, he began to ask questions of the crew, learning which of the men were willing to talk and which should be avoided. One man in particular was forthcoming and talkative to the point of being downright jolly. Quick to laugh, the man welcomed Will's questions, believing he could turn Will into a Pirate.

"Commodore Killian has no interest in making me a pirate. He didn't make the same offer to me as he did the other men." Will explained.

The result of this information was immediate. The man's smile fell from his face and he paled. Looking out toward the bow, he seemed to make some calculations, then he turned back to Will. He forced a smile on his face and clapped the younger man on the back. "We may yet change 'is mind, me lad!" From that point on, the man, Trilby by name, was exceptionally kind to him. This in itself proved to Will he had indeed been singled out for something, and he was sure it had something to do with Scratch.

**

Captain Jack Sparrow spent the nights deep in thought and roaming his ship from bow to stern and back again. Gibbs or Anamaria had plotted to be sure one of them held the wheel during the night so they could keep an eye on him. This night, was Gibbs' shift. He watched Jack make his way to the bow again. The pattern he had fallen into occasionally, randomly altered. Sometimes Jack stood in the bow staring where they were going. Sometimes he stared into the ocean's depths, looking for something within the swirling black water. Sometimes he stared up at the night sky.

Now, he did none of those things, and turned immediately upon reaching the bow to make his way back to the stern. As he passed Gibbs, the crewman called to him. "Penny fer yer thoughts, Jack?"

"Too high a price!"

"Well, tell 'em to me for free, then, for if you keep this up night after night, we'll need to replace the deck!" He sighed and stared at the obviously troubled Captain. "Come, now, Captain! Is it the girl? You know having a woman aboard"

"Is bad luck, I know." Jack sounded world weary.

"Don't scoff! The first time we 'ad 'er on board a ship I sailed, we come across the Black Pearl as it devoured it's prey."

"And pulled Will Turner from the wreckage, so it was obviously lucky for him." Jack shrugged. "It's our destination that worries me, not our passenger."

"Aye, Scratch is a place of legend. I know of no one who would willingly go there."

"Present company included." Jack stared at Gibbs. "Do you believe we can beat Killian there?"

"I can't say. Don't know much about 'is fleet, but three large ships can't go as fast as one small one." His eyes twinkled in pride. "An' when that one is the Black Pearl, well, Killian would be hard pressed to catch us."

"So you do think we'll beat Killian there?"

"I wouldn't care to make the prediction, since I've no clue what sort of head start they've got on us"

"So you don't think we'll beat Killian there?"

"But the Black Pearl is the fastest ship I've sailed, barring the Interceptor of course, and since that one was sunk, the Pearl is the fastest afloat."

"So you do think we'll beat Killian there?"

"On the other hand"

"All right, that's fine. I'll just go back to wearin' out the deck." Jack headed back towards the stern, mumbling to himself, and occasionally stopping as though listening to something only he heard.

When he reached the stern, he came to a decision, and turned to climb the highest sails. Once at the top, he closed his eyes and felt the air all around him. Turning around slowly, he completed a circle and ended up back where he started. Calling down then to Anamaria, he gave his first order in quite some time. "Put in at the next port for supplies!"

Anamaria nodded. "Aye, Captain!"

Jack smiled and spoke to himself. "I never get tired of hearing that!"

"Jack Sparrow!" A shrill voice called from below. Jack looked down to see Elizabeth staring up at him obviously annoyed.

"I do get tired of hearing that!" Sighing heavily as one unfairly burdened, he looked up at the sky as though imploring help. Then, when none was immediately forthcoming, he climbed back down to the deck. "What is it, now, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth fumed. "Why are we stopping?"

"For supplies, savvy?"

"No, I don't 'savvy'! We should be trying to catch up with Will!" She glared at him, crossing her arms.

"We are trying to catch up with dear sweet William! But we don't want to run out of things like water and food, now do we?" He nodded his head then thinking he must have gotten through to her. "Good!" he turned then and with his arms still bent at the elbow, hands up, and wrists hanging at an odd angle, he headed towards his cabin.

"Jack!"

"Captain! That's Captain Sparrow!" He called, turning reluctantly to face her. He wasn't prepared for the hurt and sorrowful look she gave him.

"We must find him." Her voice had dropped to a whisper.

He nodded and when he spoke, he spoke as softly as she had. For once there was not a trace of pettiness, indignation, amusement, or silliness in his voice. "I know, love. We will."

**

Will Turner greeted Trilby as he made his way to the Commodore's Quarter's from the Galley. The Captain's dinner was balanced on a tray, and Trilby paused to open the cabin door for the younger man. "Thanks, Trilby." Will nodded.

Will walked into the Cabin, easily following the roll of the ship, so he could keep from spilling anything. The Commodore despised a messy tray. Carefully, he put the tray down in front of the Commodore, not saying a word.

The Commodore sat to eat, and Will, as always, was expected to stand at the door, in case Killian needed anything.

Killian ate slowly, obviously relishing the meal. Will tried not to watch, but his own stomach betrayed him growling loudly. A slave's rations were generally the day's leftover's and there was little leftover. Will had lost twenty pounds in his months aboard the ship.

Will blushed at the noise of his stomach, wishing there was something he could do to stifle the sound. He feared Killian would be angered.

To Will's surprise, Killian laughed. "You hungry, boy?"


Will considered how best to answer. He did not want to fall into some trap of semantics and risk another beating. If he answered yes, would Killian feel he was ungrateful and beat him or deprive him of food? If he answered no, would Killian, knowing he was lying, beat him or cut his rations? There was little he could do either way, and at this point honesty was just easier. "Yes, Commodore."

Killian looked thoughtful. "When was your last meal boy?"

Will's own short temper flared at the illogic of this question, and a fire bloomed in his eyes. With great effort, he kept his irritation from his voice, though it was plain upon his face. "My last real meal, Commodore, was dinner the evening you looted Port Royal."

Killian stared at Will. Getting up, he crossed to the door. "You still think you can escape, do you?" He laughed, but there was no humor in it or on his face. "You can't you know. There's no escape for you where we're going."

Will stared at the man, hatred, distrust, and anger flashing in his deep brown eyes. "Wherever we are going, I will find a way out, and I will find Elizabeth and rescue her."

"Still going on about your strumpet, boy? Give it up! She's been sold and resold by now. You'd never find her. The fellow who bought her was heading to the Orient to make a sale. She's dead or wishes she were by now." Killian smirked. "As for you escaping, it can't be done."

Will actually smiled, a determined look in his eyes, that made Killian take a step back. "Then it may just take a little longer."

Killian drew back his hand to strike Will, but stopped. Will kept staring at him, the bemused smirk on his face. He didn't flinch, and Killian, nonplussed by the lack of reaction, slowly lowered his hand. "What makes you think you can do this?"

All caution gone, Will spoke honestly. "Because I must."

"You must? That's it?"

Will just stared at him.

"You think you're better than me, don't you, boy?"

"Any honest man is better than a rogue like you!"

Killian's anger flared, but he restrained himself again. This boy was too valuable to him to lose him to a moment of emotional indiscretion. He laughed at Will. "You may be honest, but your father was a pirate."

"You knew him?" Will's voice betrayed his sorrow both that the man knew who he was, and that he himself had not known his father.

"Aye. I knew him. I held him once as I hold you now! I had the same plans for him that I now have for his son!"

Will smiled triumphantly.

"Have you lost touch with reality, boy? What could bring such a smile to your face?"

"You held him as you do me?"

Killian nodded.


"Then my hope had doubled, for I know my father's fate. He did not die by your hand." He forced down the mental images of his dream. He did not have the luxury to feel guilt over this now. "Your words and your tone tell me he escaped." He smiled again. "So escape is not impossible. Indeed, it seems more probable than ever since the blood of he who once escaped you runs in my veins!"

Killian now failed in his restraint, and brought his hand back, striking Will so hard across the face, that he lost his balance and struck his head on the wall behind him.

Anger and frustration made Will abandon caution and he struck back, sending Killian stumbling backwards. Will took his chance, small though it was, and tore a sword from a display on the wall. He held Killian at bay for a moment or two, then slashed out at him with the weapon.

Killian drew his own sword from where he's placed it behind his desk, and approached Will cautiously. He had seen the boy hold back three of his own men with a sword. He was obviously well trained.

As they fought, Killian began to feel a grudging respect for Will and whoever had taught him. "You fight well, boy. Where did you learn?"

"I taught myself." He lunged then at the pirate, drawing blood from the man's shoulder.

Incensed, the Commodore's movements became quicker and sharper.

Will, who was not quite himself because of the harsh treatment, the weight loss, the lack of food, water, and proper sleep, stumbled against such a sudden and fierce onslaught. Killian pressed the advantage, and Will lost his footing, going down. When he tried to stand, he found Killian's blade at his throat.

Killian smiled triumphantly. "Release your sword!"

Reluctantly, knowing he was defeated, he did as he was told.

Killian's eyes narrowed as he considered the boy's remarkable skill with the blade, and how close he had come to losing this duel. He called to his first mate. "Baxter!" Will remained motionless until the man appeared at the door.

"Aye, sir?"

Killian spoke to Baxter, though his eyes never left Will Turner's. "I want Mr. Turner punished. Drag him."

Baxter's face paled, and he took a step back.

Killian noticed and would have none of it. "Now, Mr. Baxter!"

"Aye, sir!" Baxter took Will's arm and roughly pulled him up off the floor and out onto the deck. Baxter looked up then at the setting sun. "Sir, sun's gone down. Did you want to wait 'til morning?"

Killian turned enraged eyes on the man. "I said now!"

"Aye, sir!" Baxter said again, hurrying on his way to follow the Commodore's orders.

Will was taken to the stern of the ship, and heavy chains were attached to his wrists. The other end of the chains were wrapped securely aboard ship. Will would be dragged behind the Marauder until the Commodore ordered otherwise.

Killian approached the bound young man, and with a malicious grin, tore his shirt off exposing his chest, back and arms to whatever creatures of the deep would care to swim nearby, not that the flimsy material would have offered much protection, but Killian was going for a psychological victory. Wondering what more he could do, he looked Will Turner up and down. He gestured to the blacksmith's feet. "Remove his shoes."


The men did as instructed clearly enjoying their Commodore's attention to detail. When they'd finished, the Commodore again appraised his victim's condition. He stepped closer to Will until they were nose to nose, and looked into Will's eyes. Seeing defiance still within, he felt fury overtake him.

Taking a knife from its sheath at his hip stepped back and swiped the knife at Will's pants, cutting away the pant legs at the knees.

Trilby stepped forward then, helping Baxter attach more chains to Will's ankles. He'd be unable to move under his own power with the added weight. Trilby looked up at Will, and offered him a look of apology. Will didn't hold this against the man, and inclined his head slightly to let the man know this was so.

A plank was extended out the back of the ship, and Will was made to walk it. The chains were heavy and hindered his movement. He looked out at the black water, wishing it was at least daylight. The idea of being down there unable to see and at the mercy of whatever night feeders might want to swim by and take a bite worried Will. He could think of no course of action to save himself from this ordeal. He could easily drown or die in any number of ways. He looked back then at Trilby, who was waiting nearby.

Baxter waited only for the final order from Killian.

The Commodore stood at a fair distance. He looked Will in the eye, and gave the order. "Now!"

Baxter shook the plank making Will lose his balance and plunge into the murky depths of the black water.

To Be Continued


Responses to reviews:

Padfoor4ever: Thanks! I'm flattered. Don't worry! I'll keep writing as long as I can think of things to write about!

Jackfan2: What a relief! Jack is hard to write. I didn't want him to come off lookingunJACKlike! Thanks for your enthusiastic review! I hope you like this chapterthough it will take a while for things to unfold, and to learn more about Scratch.

Missy: Thanks! It's great to hear that I'm keeping everyone in character, always the biggest worry in Fanfic, IMHO. I love the angst, too! That's why I write it!