The bo'sun had done his work well, the flesh cruelly torn where raw welts overlapped. Bootstrap worked methodically, trying to be as gentle as he could but he knew what got braided into that whip when the bo'sun was bored-coral, bone, all of it potentially a death sentence from infection. He found himself talking to fill in the silence, early days aboard the Pearl, the mutiny (not the full story, that would never be heard from himself, or Jack he thought) and how he'd come to be on the Dutchman. Safe non-loaded topics, although he desperately wanted to be the one asking rather than answering questions.
When the job was done, the bottle of rum was rather depleted, having been liberally applied internally and externally; he was heartily wishing he'd been able to sample some of it himself. He was proud (he had no right to be, but he was) of the boy's courage though, his jaw had stayed locked beyond muffled groans, and the occasional turn of phrase whose colour impressed even Bootstrap.
"How is it that you're here?" he asked eventually, not wanting to press the issue but unsure when they might have another chance to talk. Life on board the Dutchman was 'unpredictable' to say the least.
"Jack Sparrow" Will's voice somewhat slurred from pain and 'medicinal rum'. "We became acquainted over getting the Black Pearl back"
Bill nodded "He mentioned". Suddenly realizing what he'd just said.
"He wh-!" Will stared at him "You saw Jack? When?"
Bill cursed mentally. So Jack had kept that little piece of information to himself had he? No doubt he hadn't mentioned a lot of other things too about the Dutchman.
"Jones sent me to deliver a message. To Jack"
"The mark?"
"Aye. Jack owes him a debt. Why did he send-"
"He sent me" Will's voice was flat "To settle it for him. That's what he suggested to say".
"You double-crossing son of a bitch Jack" Bill whispered, furious. He'd thought there were limits to who Jack might sell out. Apparently he'd been wrong. "Then how did you escape taking oath?"
"I don't know" Will admitted. "Jones never offered me the choice"
"Then you have to leave. Forget Jack. He can take care of himself" Especially when he's chosen to sell out your own son.
"I can't. Jack has something I need. And I need this to trade for it" Will pulled out a scrap of parchment with a design scrawled on it.
They were both surprised when a voice came from the deck planks above them like the murmur of the sea from the curved interior of a shell.
"The deadman's chest".
That's all for this cheerful story arc. But there will be another semi-sequal out of a later 'conversation' between Bootstrap and Davy Jones.
Hope y'all enjoyed it.