(OT: Well, I said I might start with Will escaping from the brig... Alas, I could not come up with a clever enough inner-dialogue or creative fresh escape, so I decided I would walk you through those moment before Jack and Will have their exchange and then through the discourse. Enjoy! Within the next one-two chapters: Elizabeth finally realizes what Will is dealing with, Beckett and his officers finding the sleeping Will draped over the body/barrel, and Elizabeth and Jack reach a certain level of closure after the Brethren meeting...)
Gripping a flopped-over limp body by the armpits, Will skulked across the Black Pearl's deck, avoiding the gaze of Cotton and attempting to keep the dead body from clattering back to the floor. He hadn't bothered to look into the soldier's face, grasping the first body from the crew's meager pile of the deceased and managing to grab a man that, fortunately, did not reek terribly. William began to pant as he scooted across the floor, finally reaching the bow of the Pearl, where an empty rum barrel and numerous ropes were awaiting him. The man gently laid the drained body aside and seated himself, leaning his head against the vessel's side. Lolling waves lapped against the ship, and Will heard every swell and quake, suddenly thinking of those moments when he desired Jack's beloved Pearl to sink to the bottom of the ocean. He shook his head, focusing on the task before him and ignoring the possibility of getting caught if he lingered too long.
But how long could he keep going? He had lost an entire day by being imprisoned, and he now relied on this lifeless body to aid in his mission… But then again, Elizabeth had no place in that mission, did she? Will's eyes fluttered closed as he remembered her harsh touch only the day before. The way her hands has grazed against his chest and smacked him with steep force. More than enough of pirates, indeed. He had somehow molded into a pirate over these past torturous months… A fate he had attempted to reject when he first met the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow but a fate Will now accepted if it meant it would rescue his father.
Except now, not only was his father trapped aboard the Dutchman, but his beloved, his Elizabeth, belonged to Sao Feng. William rumbled to himself. Why did she not listen? Why didn't she realize what that voracious man was after? She was far too rash through her audacity and anger, and he was far too stupid to bring her into an embrace. That untamable streak in his beloved was the thing that scared and enthralled William the most. He hoped she wasn't irrational with the powerful… But at the same time, he did pray that she was impudent enough to make Sao Feng shy from her sight. If anything happened to Elizabeth that upset her more… Will could almost imagine the way she would fall. The pieces that were dangling by threads might crack and collapse if something horrid occurred.
Shaking his mind of Elizabeth's recent worrisome antics, Turner rose and resumed the task, heaving the body onto the wooden barrel and, unfortunately, glimpsing into the soldier's expression. He recognized the insipid features, and it was a revolting sight; it was Carruthers, who once watched over the prisoners in Port Royal. It stung his heart to realize even lower officers were lugged into Beckett's dastardly scheme bit by bit. It then pained him to think of those tender moments he had with Elizabeth behind bars… The way she had gripped his back when they kissed away the farewell and the way she had fondly stroked his scruffy whiskers. Will spun the man over and then situated him over the barrel with his free hand clasping the braided ropes. Used to the process, Will rapidly swathed the man in ropes and knotted them at random places, checking to secure the soldier's head and the little EITC note attached to his wrist. Wrapping his arms around the width of the barrel, Will hauled the container onto the side of the ship, gradually panting in his mounting exasperation. He tethered the longest rope and then cinched the largest knot, recollecting the expression on his father's face when he bid his son adieu and imagining Elizabeth's imminent horror of displeasure. His face twisted into an angry scowl as he removed his dagger with his right hand and quickly severed the bond. Will then lowered his weapon, twirling it lightly between his fingers. He had formed a life-or-death promise on this glimmering dagger for his father, and he swore that he would not shatter that bond. Bootstrap had done little for Will, compared to the duties of a parent, but to Will, when he was desperate to save his beloved, finding his way off the Dutchman represented everything he needed.
"You escaped the brig even quicker than I expected," Jack's voice boomed nearby, and Will lifted his eyes to the captain, who perched comfortably over the expansive sea. The man poised his dagger, threatening Sparrow silently. "William," Jack inquired, rising from his position and gripping the ropes that were strung overhead, "Do you notice anything?" Will glanced around the bow of the vessel and then to the ocean's waves. What was he talking about? "Or rather," Jack asked lightly as he inched down the rope, "do you notice something that is not there to be noticed?"
Will surveyed the slumbering Black Pearl again and finally figured it out. Ah, so then, what was Jack's aim this gloomy evening? "You haven't raised an alarm," Will answered steadily.
With his hands still gripping the ropes, Jack stepped carefully toward William but paused as he spoke. "Odd isn't it?" he remarked with a cunning expression. "But not as odd as this," the pirate noted, his swaggering arms vaguely pointing to the body draped across the barrel. "Come up with this all my your lonesome, did you?"
It was such a small level of disgust, but Will caught every inflection, knowing not to merely trust what Jack was saying. Will was still confused as to why Jack hadn't alerted the crew of his escape or why Jack imprisoned him at all if the captain knew he would escape. With the tilt of his head and a singe in his tone, William countered, "I said to myself, think like Jack." It was a horrid remark apparently; he had only set Captain Jack up for a thin slice.
"And this," Jack claimed, pointing to the soldier again, "is what you've arrived at? Lead Beckett to Shipwreck Cove so as to gain his trust, accomplish your own ends?" There was slight, intentional lapse of silence. Jack was taunting him. "It's like you don't know me at all, mate." Will finally lowered the algae-encrusted dagger, realizing that Jack's objective deeply involved him, whether he wanted it to be part of the scheme or not. "And how does your dearly beloved feel about this?" Sparrow inquired, attempting to appeal to dear William's tender side. Ah, the boy hesitated, just as Jack desired, and turned toward the sea. "Ah, you've not seen fit to trust her with it." Will knew that Jack thought it completely understandable but entirely inconvenient for the lover boy. He was scooting along behind William now, and he finally hopped down to a position beside the young man.
Will felt it lounging on his tongue and then it rolled. His weakness… The truth of the matter. "I'm losing her, Jack," Will uttered softly, imagining that vicious shove she delivered once again and the way she had looked at him below deck. It pained him to face the facts… To face the very thing that was ripping their relationship to shreds. He had to become the Flying Dutchman's captain and slay Jones. His love for Miss Swann was something Jack always managed to use to his advantage, but Will could not stop himself. His father. His beloved. How could anyone choose one over the other without hesitancy? "Every step I make for my father is a step away from Elizabeth."
His comment was the trigger and Jack easily grasped the bullet. "Mate," he said sincerely, "if you choose to lock your heart away, you'll lose her for certain." Jack sauntered away, leaning against the Pearl's nearest wall with a certain self-assured mindset. "If I may lend a machete to your intellectual thicket- Avoid the choice all together." How could he? It was a choice he was forced to make. "Change the facts," Jack assured. "Let someone else dispatch Jones." A sleight smile diffused across his face, and Will felt Jack's eyes rolling toward him, awaiting the fantastic recognition.
"Who?" William asked, and he swiveled toward the keen pirate as it all meshed together. Jack's objective. Keeping himself and Elizabeth out of the mix… And gaining an advantage over Barbossa. "You?"
Perfect. The subject could now be pursued with ease, and Jack was free to explain himself. "Death has a curious way of reshuffling one's priorities." The captain smiled and strolled back to his position beside William. He enlightened the young man with pleasure and gestured lightly. "I slip aboard the Dutchman, find the heart, stab the beating thing… Your father goes free from his debt, and you're free to be with your charming murderess."
The memory of Miss Swann's misdeed resonated with those last words, and although it made Will desire to rebuke the title, he reasonably could not, and he realized that Jack Sparrow couldn't perform the duties without a bit of avarice. He announced with a heady voice, "And you're willing to carve out your heart and bind yourself to the Dutchman… Forever." Jack did not even flinch; Will continued to glower, attempting to cipher what would shatter the captain's big idea.
"No mate," Jack answered confidently, nearly giddy. "I'm free forever. Free to sail the seas beyond the edges of the map, free from death itself."
There it was. Jack hadn't fathomed the depth of the purpose of the Dutchman, only the benefits. "You have to do the job, though, Jack." This pirate had no idea what a sacrifice it was… But Will did. He knew too much of cause and effect, unfair consequences, and the sacrifices that are required from those and for those you love. He rose in the pirate's face and whispered, "You have to ferry souls to the next world. Or end up just like Jones." Will gestured, making a smooth stroking motion from his chin, simulating the formation of a slimy beard. What self-serving pirate could cut out his heart without woe of what was called upon him?
"Mm," Jack murmured, grimacing as his stroked his ebony mustache and chin and then twiddling his braided beard in anxiety. Will was correct in his assumption; Jack was never one to face consequences head-on. "I don't have the face for tentacles," he announced gently. "But immortal has to count for something, eh? Oh!" Jack cried lightly, glancing to his belt and removing the navigational device that dangled against his leg, offering it to Will.
Will cautiously grasped the black and tan compass, puzzled by the offering. He knew this was, indeed, a unique compass, but he knew where his heart lied… Will just wasn't certain if his heart had a place to lie. "What's this for?" He tilted the compass in his hand, curious what Jack had created within a matter of minutes.
Will continued to stare at the navigational device, tempted to flip it open. "Think like me; it'll come to you," Jack remarked solemnly and then, William felt Jack's figure glide closer, and as he lifted his eyes, the pirate exhaled a pungent puff of rum-soaked breath, so terrible that it made Will stumble backward and catapult overboard with a solid splash. He thrashed through the chilling water, bursting through the surface with a slight gasp as he attempted to locate Jack's smug expression and the vessel's gangway. Damn that man. Dear naïve William was once again foiled by his own plan and literally tossed to the sea. But now, a barrel was plummeting over the side of the ship and bouncing in the welling waves. "My regards to Davy Jones!" Jack shouted, tapping his head lightly in an eager wave.
Lifting his arms as high as possible above the bubbling ocean and still gripping the unique compass, Will stroked toward the wooden barrel and hoisted himself on top of insipid body, sputtering out swallowed water and panting from the cold. How could he do this? "I hate him," Will growled impetuously, gritting his teeth as another wave crashed over his head.