A/N: Hey guys...It's been a while since I posted anything, I know. Stupid life, getting in the way of my obsessions... Anyway, yeah. This one actually came to me while I was avoiding the evil that is Chemistry. Amazing how devoted one can be to writing when trying to not get anything done. I actually have several multi-chapter projects in the planning stages right now (if school ever decides to ease up), so keep checking in! You might just see something new posted. And...yeah. Reviews are much loved! Love it or hate it, I don't care. I just feel so much more motivated to write when I see that people actually care one way or another. I might even get a really cute Christmas story out soon if I feel loved enough. (Me? Blackmailing? Never...)

Disclaimer: No, they're still not mine, and no, I'm still not done playing with them. I'll give 'em back later...maybe.

"Here. Take this too," Bootstrap insisted, placing his knife in his son's hands. "Now, get yerself to land and stay there. It was always in my blood t' die at sea, but it was not a fate I wanted for you."

"It was not a fate you had to choose for yourself, either," Will reminded him, the pain in his dark brown eyes belying his otherwise stoic expression.

"Ah…" Bootstrap hesitated, unsure of what to say. He'd gone over his excuse many times in his head whenever guilt struck over the years, but now that he actually faced his son, anything he could say in defense sounded utterly pointless. He's a grown man now, he reminded himself. For once, just be honest with 'im. "I could say I did what I had to when I left ye to go pirating," he began haltingly. "…But it would taste a lie to say it wasn't what I wanted. Ye owe me nothing, Will. Now go."

"They'll know you helped me," Will protested.

Bootstrap laughed humorlessly. "What more can they do t' me?" he asked dryly, gesturing around him.

"I take this with a promise," Will vowed, holding up the knife. "I'll find a way to sever Jones' hold on you and not rest until this blade pierces his heart." There was a slight pause before he continued. "I will not abandon you…I promise."

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Bill Turner groaned as he woke up and opened his eyes, finding it still completely dark in the room. Being an early-riser might be beneficial while on a ship, but it proved to be very annoying when trying to spend a bit of time at home with one's family. Groaning again, he shut his eyes and turned over, only to become aware of a third presence in his bed. Further investigation confirmed that said presence was four-year-old William Turner, who was currently sound asleep.

"Kate," he whispered, gently waking his wife.

Still not fully awake, she turned her head in his general direction. "Hmm?"

"Have ye ever gotten th' feeling that somethin's come between us?"

"What are you talking about, Bill?" she mumbled, her voice trailing off as she discovered their son next to her. "Not again…"

Bill cocked an eyebrow, still keeping his voice low. "He does this often?"

"Just recently. He says he can't sleep in his room, though he refuses to tell me why. I think something's got him spooked."

"Well, only one way to fix that…"

"Bill, just let him be. Whatever it is, he'll grow out of it."

"I'm afraid I'm not that patient, love," he replied, grinning slightly. "We set sail again next week, and how am I to enjoy the company of my beautiful wife until then if I'm constantly worried about certain…interruptions?"

He was abruptly silenced by a pillow hitting him in the face. "Now you shush, Bill Turner, before your son hears you. Goodness knows he already hears enough from some of the local men."

"Precisely why this must end now." Without another word, he grabbed Will's shoulder and lightly shook the boy awake. "Will…wake up, lad."

Will whimpered slightly and mumbled something incoherent before turning over and attempting to go back to sleep.

"Will…Ye seem t' have somehow made yer way into our bed, lad. As much as we love ye, I'm afraid yer gettin' quite big, an' our bed's only made for two. What say we remedy the situation an' get ye back to yer own room?"

Will's eyes shot open at the mention of his room. "I can't sleep in there, Papa."

"So I've noticed," Bill replied dryly. "Might I ask why?"

Will bit down on his lower lip and glanced hesitantly at his mother, who had already drifted back into sleep. "I can't because…" he paused and scooted closer to his father, then whispered, "The pirates'll get me."

"Oh, the pirates'll get ye?" Bill repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes sir."

Knowing better than to try to argue with the active imagination of a four-year-old, Bill simply sighed, sat up, and pulled on his shirt. "Well, we're in luck, 'cause I happen t' have some experience negotiatin' with pirates. How about we go see if I can get 'em out for ye?" Not waiting for Will's reply, he stood and carried the boy out of the room.

"But Papa, these aren't jus' any pirates," Will protested as they made their way back to his room.

"Oh they're not, hmm?"

"Nuh-uh. They're vicious skeleton pirates."

"Skeleton pirates, ye say?" Bill pretended to contemplate before changing his course and entering the small kitchen. "In that case, we'll have t' be much better prepared." He quickly located a candle and lit it, then performed a brief search of the cabinets. "Ah, this'll do nicely," he finally said, handing Will a small wooden dowel. He now carried Will over to the closed door of the boy's room and set him down on the floor. "Now Will, we must exercise extreme caution when dealin' with these fiends, but I've got a foolproof plan. Think ye can manage?"

Will only swallowed hard once before nodding resolutely. "What must I do, Papa?"

Bill fought back a grin at the boy's courage. "Well, ye see, pirates o' this sort thrive off o' fear. As long as they know yer afraid o' them, they'll continue t' plague ye. So, what ye have to do is, at my signal, burst in there real brave-like an' declare 'Avast ye, lubbers! I ain't afraid o' no pirates!' Then, any that're left, we'll take care of."

"An' you'll be right behind me?"

"Aye, lad."

"…Alright," Will agreed hesitantly. "I'm ready."

"Very well, then…go!"

After only a moment's pause, Will threw open the door to his room and ran in. "Avast, ye lubbers!" he cried, brandishing the dowel like a sword. "I ain't afraid o' no pirates!"

"Check behind th' curtains, Will," Bill ordered, making a dramatic show of checking under the bed.

The boy ran over the curtains and thrust them open. "They're gone!" he exclaimed in surprise. "It worked!"

"Aye, ye sure showed them, lad," Bill agreed, placing a hand on Will's shoulder. "I bet they won't dare show their faces 'ere again."

"Yep…" Will yawned. "We showed 'em…real good…"

Bill scooped his son up into his arms and placed him back in his bed. "Now, since the evil pirates have been vanquished, I think it's far past bedtime for little boys. Agreed?"

"Aye…" Will murmured, closing his eyes. Just as Bill turned to leave, the boy spoke again. "…Papa?"

"Aye, lad?"

"Jus' in case they come back…will you stay with me? Jus' for tonight?"

Bill nodded and sat down on the stool next to the boy's bed. It wasn't like he would've been able to go back to sleep anyway. "Aye, I can do that. Go to sleep, Will. I'll watch over ye."

Will nodded and nestled into his sheets once again, letting out a small sigh as he slowly drifted into sleep. As he sat there, Bill found himself marveling at how small and peaceful and…vulnerable his son looked. Hesitantly, he reached out to brush some hair out of Will's face, then leaned over and kissed him lightly on the forehead. The one thing he most deeply regretted about the life he led was that he had so little time with his family, but it was for their sakes that he led such a life. He gently stroked the boy's cheek with his rough hand, causing him to stir slightly.

"Papa…?" Will muttered without opening his eyes. "You're not leaving me, are you?"

"No, Will, I'm not," he replied quietly. "Go back to sleep."

"Are you ever going to leave me?"

Bill hesitated this time. "Will…ye know my job requires that I be away sometimes…I can't always be here…"

"I know, Papa, but you'll always come back, right? You won't leave for good?"

"No, Will, I'd not do that to ye," he replied, placing a reassuring hand on Will's. "Nor yer mother. I love ye both too much."

"…Promise?"

"I promise, lad. I'll not abandon ye. Now get some sleep."

"I love you, Papa."

"I love ye too, William."

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A single tear trickled down Bootstrap's cheek as he was struck with the full weight of his son's words: it was the same promise he'd made nearly two decades ago and failed so miserably to uphold. He opened his mouth to reply, to say anything that might make it better, but he was too late.

His son was gone.

Note: If you enjoyed this fanfic, check out my other Bootstrap/Will one-shot, No Messy Tears