I was listening to track eight of the Dead Man's Chest soundtrack, and feeling fluffily depressed, or depressingly fluffy, or something... and this was the result: Will's thoughts for the duration of five lashes. Please review! It's a very easy process!
Rated T for mild violence.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
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They rip my shirt. Their claws, their misshapen limbs hold me and hurt my arms...
My father? How? Why? My father should be dead. This couldn't be...
That can't be him, can't be. Who is he? Why is he doing this?
He can't be my father...
Because Barbossa... The cannon... Bootstraps... Why?
Crack.
My back... That... pain...
But he had been cursed. That curse... The cursed gold...
But the curse was lifted. My blood--his blood in my veins--lifted it.
The gold was returned.
How could he be here?
Crack.
It... stings... It feels... hot...
The curse. He was cursed but they sent him to the depths...
But he was immortal. He couldn't die...
Doomed in the black...
How many times did I see him in my mind?
How many times did I think of--
Crack.
Fire and death, my back!
Why is he here?
In my mind... I saw him...
That fate... Unspeakable... Buried fathoms unnumbered beneath the sea.
Trapped in the cold and the dark. No death to escape to.
But I could free him. I could bring my father the release of death.
Crack.
That burn... I can feel... blood now... More bloodletting.
"He didn't waste it," I said, and dropped the coins with our blood.
And the curse was lifted, that blasted, evil plague of a curse...
I was so sure... I had been so sure of it...
I had seen him in my mind then: He could finally die.
He could finally--
Crack.
No... My... back...
He could finally be... at peace.
I thought I had given him the escape.
When I lifted the curse.
I thought... I had finally given him... peace...