"Lost love." It was all Bill would mention as he tied down the rigging while Meris "helped" him with it. The small boy had very little strength, but Bill praised him for the effort. Treva titled her head slightly and blinked, remembering the expression Captain Jones had worn last night as she'd sang the lullaby before the whole crew.

"Was he married?" Treva asked, pondering the specifics. But Bill wouldn't tell her anything else related to what was in the Captain's past.

Well, his simple explanation at least helped her understand the faint sadness that would sometimes overcome Davy Jones; through his demeanor was usually cold and cruel, Treva sensed he was repressing any other emotions that might lie within. Regardless of his heart having been severed, he still seemed a slave in part to whatever had led him to this.

Treva, however, was able to learn more about Bill's own past. That evening, after Meris had fallen asleep, he was helping her in her endless cleaning duties. "I really am thankful for everything you've done to help with Meris…" Treva said quietly, on her hands and knees once more scrubbing at the deck with all her might. "You…would make a great father." She admitted it was a bit of an underhanded thing to say, since she knew that Bill had a son, but she was hoping to start a conversation with him.

Bill's expression drooped slightly, as though a burden had suddenly appeared upon him. "I wish I could believe the same, Treva…I haven't seen Will since he was an infant…far too long ago for him to even know who I am…" his voice was quiet, as though it had dawned on him just how long it had truly been. "But I am thankful for the space the sea has placed between us. I would never want to curse my son with having to see me like this…" his raspy voice echoed slightly off the walls of the ship. Treva looked at him sadly; she could sense a lot of pain in his voice, and the way he looked.

"What was it that happened to you Bill…? That brought you on board the Flying Dutchman…" she asked, and for a moment he was silent, as though he were collecting his thoughts before he explained it.

"It started years ago…I was once a member of Captain Jack Sparrow's crew aboard the mythical ship, the Black Pearl…" his expression seemed to lighten for a mere moment before it darkened once more. "Times were good at first, but people started questioning the authority of Captain Sparrow…it was only after two years of serving under him that he was mutinied against by his first mate, Barbossa…I hadn't supported the uprising at all, in fact, I was the only one who stood up for him…but I knew I wouldn't be able to make a difference…

After he was cast overboard and left to die on an island, we discovered the treasure we'd been seeking. But it turned out to be cursed gold, that of Cortez that had he taken from the blood and death of the Aztecs…all of us on board were enveloped by the dark magic. We became a part of the undead, nothing could satisfy or please us anymore…it was like being only half alive, as though your senses had died away. But to me…I thought it was a suitable punishment, for the crew having thrown Captain Sparrow off the ship. So in order to make sure it stayed with us…I sent a piece of gold to my son William, to ensure there would be no escape. I know that probably doesn't make much sense to you…but to me, it was divine justice.

The rest of the crew was less than joyful of my decision to condemn us all…they tied my bootstraps to a heavy cannonball and threw me overboard, and I sank all the way to the cold, dark depths of the sea. It was Hell down there…the curse kept me alive through the agonizing pain of having all that water crushing down upon me…of being bitten at by whatever passed…but it was the loneliness that took its toll. Thinking I would be down there for forever…" he paused and shook slightly, remembering the prospect of that fate. "But then…I was discovered when the Flying Dutchman was traveling through the depths one night. Captain Jones gave me the option to serve him, or I was to remain where I was. I figured this life had to be better than being trapped down there...little did I know this was just a different kind of Hell…"

"But this has to be better…right…?" Treva asked, speaking quietly. "I mean…even though Captain Jones and his crew are cruel…at least you're not alone anymore…"

"I suppose so…but at the same time, there was a sense of defeat in my agreeing to become a part of this crew…"

"And what was that…?" she asked softly.

"Even under the curse…I was still at least human. Even if I appeared monstrous in the revealing moonlight, my soul was still alive within me…" he said in little more than a whisper. "That is why Davy Jones is sometimes regarded as the Devil himself…he takes the only eternal part of a person, their soul, and makes it his own. Even when I was cursed, I still had my soul…I could still call myself Bootstrap Bill Turner…now, I'm not sure what to make of myself…if I still am human in part, or a monster…"

"You are more human than other pirates I've seen…" Treva attempted to assure him. "Appearances mean nothing, the transformation we're both undergoing does not make us like Davy Jones and the rest of his crew…"

"No…not yet…" Bill said ominously as he stood and began to walk away. "But soon…Treva…when my transformation does finally become complete…" he turned to face her, a mixed expression of sadness and uncertainty on his face. "Then you may no longer have an ally on board the Flying Dutchman…"