Aaaand the results of that suggestion. I love the doctor, I have to say.
"Bill! I have had a revelation!"
Said pirate groaned. The grouchy, hung over doctor shot him a look and jabbed a finger into the wound on his chest under the pretence of bandaging it. Bill grit his teeth, refusing to give the sadistic jerk the satisfaction of causing him pain.
"What is it, Jack?" He tried to sound as patient as possible, considering the clenched jaw.
"The reason you don't want to be with me is because you're afraid you'll turn in to Captain Sam, wretched blighter that he was."
Bill choked. The doctor raised a bushy eyebrow, suddenly much more interested in his latest patient. Jack just stood there, hands on his hips and a confident grin dazzling the various inhabitants of the makeshift infirmary.
"What on EARTH makes you think that?" Bill managed to squeak, trying to ignore the fire currently consuming his face.
"I was talking with Hector, and he said-"
"Wait a minute... Hector Barbossa? The first mate!? What the hell were you talking to him for!?"
Bill tried to stand, and got smacked upside the head with a bloody towel for his efforts. The doctor shoved him back down on the galley table and continued his work, going decidedly slower than he really should have.
"He's my first mate, is there any reason I shouldn't talk to him? Anyways, so he said that you were like me, only you didn't have a you to save you, so you were like what I would have been if you hadn't been there. So anyways, he starts talking about how Sam probably did to you what he tried to do to me, only he really did it because you couldn't save yourself, so that's why you're so uncomfortable with the thought of being with me, because it reminds you of Sam and what he did, and you're afraid that if you're with me you'll be exactly like him, but don't worry, you won't, because it's a completely different situation. You know that right? Because that was just wrong and evil but with you and me it's..."
The doctor's second eyebrow shot up, looking down at Bill with mixed pity, doubt and a strange sort of grudging sympathy. Bill sighed, ignoring the jolt as the man pulled the bandages tight. Jack continued to rabble on and on, talking about a whole whack load of things that were probably very important and revealing much more to the crew that Bootstrap could really allow. And yet, Bill couldn't bring himself to give a damn what any of their mangy flea-bitten crew thought. The doc patted him on the shoulder, a simple gesture that said "You're free to go", "Good luck", and "Feel free to come commandeer some of the medical alcohol when this all blows to hell" at the same time. Bill gave him a grateful look and wearily pulled himself to his feet.