Once Every Decade, a series of PotC vignettes by Tsunami Storm

Chapter 8

"Land Ho!" cried Hadras in the now-expected call that signalled to the rest of the crew that they were approaching land at last. Will looked up and cast his gaze over the horizon with a fond smile. At long last, his decade-long journey was finally coming to an end. It had been ten years since he'd been forced to take up the Duty as Ferryman, and was more than eager to once again dive into the embrace of his beloved wife and their twin children, Liam and Liza Turner. However, he was also apprehensive, as he still felt the familiar tug of lost souls that still needed his aid and guidance. Surely, with the Curse breaking, that feeling would subside?

Will shook his head as The Dutchman sailed into the deep-water bay of Port Royal, its picturesque view from the iconic Fort Charles filling the young immortal captain with an overpowering sense of nostalgia and familiarity. Will smiled. After more than a decade, he was finally home.

He could scarcely wait as both anchor and dinghy were lowered to the water's surface, the vessel ceasing its descent as it touched the liquid's surface, and the heavier anchor breaking through the aqueous barrier with an audible plunk!. Wasting no time or effort climbing down the proffered ship's ladder- the slow way- Will elected to swing from a tether rope instead, skillfully manouevring himself so that he landed both feet into the centre of the dinghy and taking his seat in one fluid motion with practised ease. Hearing a few teasing comments and calls of "Showoff!" from the deck of his ship and some of the younger, newer members of his crew, Will returned a mocking smirk in their general direction as he grabbed both oars and started making his way to the shore of Port Royal, not wanting to waste one. more. second.

-Ten minutes later-

"WILL!" Elizabeth called as her husband rowed into view, running into the surf and not caring one whit that she was soaking the hem of her fancy dress and waterlogging her shoes. After one more good push, Will stood up, turned about, then leapt from the dinghy into the shallow waters of the port's beach, racing through the water as fast as his legs could carry him. Without even slowing his frantic pace, the young immortal dove into Elizabeth with full force, tackling her into the water and laughing uproariously like a schoolboy that had just pulled an epic prank on his classmates and/or the teacher. Needless to say, the Pirate King came up for air sputtering two seconds later, understandably cross with her joyous husband, but unable to maintain her irritated façade for long. "Will!" She huffed in half-amused exasperation after she'd caught her breath.

"Oh, Elizabeth!" Will exclaimed as he'd yet to free his wife from a frankly smothering embrace. She had no idea how much he'd missed this. How much he'd needed this.

"Dad!" "Father!" Came two more cries of elation as the young couple was tackled to the water once again by the remaining two members of their family, the ten-year-old twins, Liam and Liza. For his part, Will only managed an 'Oof!' of surprise as he was once again dunked below the water by his excitable progeny, coming up for air and laughing two seconds later.

"You're home!" The three land-bound members of the family rejoiced in unison as all four stood to their feet, the three gazing adoringly up at the face of their patriarch. Will, overcome by emotion himself, said nothing as he stooped down and embraced his twins with joyful waterfalls of tears streaming from his eyes. Indeed, perhaps there were no words for such a wondrous occasion. Then, the family of four, finally whole again, took their first steps from the water onto the shore.

-Unbeknownst to Will, starting the clock ticking on his One Day.

-The next day, midday-

"What?" Will gasped as he felt the all-too-familiar pull of The Dutchman as he walked through the town with his wife and twins, returning cheerful greetings and receiving many wishes of 'Welcome home!' from his fellow townsfolk from a decade ago. He stooped slightly in pain as his cardiac cavity spasmed, further cementing the painful truth:

He was still bound to the Duty. The Curse was not yet broken.

"Will?" Elizabeth gasped in the same horror-struck voice, dreading the worst. Will gazed at his beloved wife with tear-filled eyes, and she immediately understood and put a hand to her breast as if her own heart had shattered like fine Egyptian glass. "No…" She breathed, but Will only cast his gaze to the ground and squeezed his eyes shut against the pain and tears, clenching his fists and jaw in hurt and anger at the same time. WHY?! He demanded mentally as he glared furiously at the open sea before him. "You promised!" He shouted tearfully at the noonday sun, knowing that somehow, in some way, Calypso could hear him. "I've stayed the course! I ferried them for ten years! I've done everything you've asked of me! Why?" He wept, falling to his knees and covering his eyes with an arm so that his family wouldn't see his tears.

"Oh no." Elizabeth breathed, those two simple words speaking volumes of the horror she now felt on behalf of her other half. Falling to her knees beside her husband and best friend in the wide world, she tearfully embraced the too-young, broken immortal as he sobbed, once again feeling every spasm of pain and heartache in her own chest as he was feeling.

Enraged, Elizabeth glared up at the sky. "Touch of destiny, my arse!" She cried furiously, causing several passersby to gawk at her, scandalised. They had never heard such foul language from the elegant and refined Lady Elizabeth Turner. "Why even get our hopes up with your empty vows, only to dash them at the last second?! I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm beginning to sympathise with Jones! You weren't there for him, were you? You betrayed him, just as you've now betrayed Will! How could you?!" She wailed up at the heavens, which had now suddenly become overcast with clouds.

"Erm… Lizzie, darlin'-" came an all-too-familiar slur from behind the grief-stricken family, and Elizabeth felt a cautionary hand on her shoulder and a rum-sodden breath next to her ear. "Might not be th' wisest course, gettin' on th' bad side of a goddess."

"Well, how would you feel?" Lizzie retorted tearfully, even as Will returned to his feet, but didn't lift his gaze from the ground.

"I know exactly 'ow ye feel, luv." Jack soothed, patting her back consolingly. "Y'think ol' Jack's never been 'eartbroken? Th' illustrious Cap'n Jack Sparrow may be a livin' legend, but 'e's still human too, y'know." He smirked, though there was a bit of an accusatory frown on his face to contrast with his mischievously twinkling eyes.

"She promised, though!" Elizabeth huffed petulantly. "She gave us her solemn vow! If we stayed true to each other for ten years, she'd lift the Curse and free Will! Technically it's been a little over ten years, since Will postponed his 'One Day' for a bit when I was ill. Why?!" She echoed her still-despondent husband.

"Well, there be a reason folks calls th' sea 'a fickle mistress'." Jack offered as a poor explanation that did nothing to assuage their grief and feelings of hopelessness. At these words, poor Will just hung his head lower and bit his lip. "Mayhap Charon's not ready ta take back th' job yet?" He continued in a poor attempt at humour. Will scoffed quietly through his tears, but Elizabeth glared at her old friend and perpetually drunken captain.

…

"I have to leave." Will whispered after what felt like an eternity. A tearful Elizabeth clung to his arm and grasped at the sleeve of his tunic, but he merely gazed at her with his love-filled, chocolate orbs and she released him, instead wrapping her arms around her midsection as if she'd feared she'd break apart.

"Good luck, Whelp- er, Will." Jack wished in a sad half-smile. "Sorry, Captain Will. May th' winds of fortune always be at yer stern, an' you seize that horizon. Oh, and give Bootstrap me best. Haven't seen the old sea-dog fer a spell. And that blasted Admiral too, I guess." He tacked on as an afterthought. Will laughed, but the humour didn't reach his eyes, still reddened with tears.

"I shall. And fair winds to you, Jack. No offence, but I hope I don't see you for some time to come. At least not the next decade." He joked in a brave attempt to hide his heartbroken anguish.

"Aye." His fellow captain answered, then raised a few fingers. "I've a bit of a confession, as it 'appens. Recall when I first said 'This is th' day you'll always remember as th' day you almost caught [me]'? Well, ye didn' almost anythin'. Ye caught me fair an' square, an' have 'eld me fast in th' prison of yer 'earts ever since. Th' two of ye- now four- 'ave been me truest mates ever since that blasted day when I saved yer bonny lass Lizzie when she tumbled from that blasted fort."

Will grinned, genuinely smiling for the first time that afternoon. "As they say, 'Drink up, me hearties, yo ho!'."

-The Flying Dutchman, nighttime, June 6, 1692-

Will woke up with a startled gasp, breathing heavily as if he had just run around the entire island of Jamaica at a full sprint.

"Will?" As expected by now, Bootstrap Bill was right by his son's bedside, alerted by his captain's distress. "A nightmare again?" The First Mate guessed correctly.

"More like- a vision." Will gasped, still breathing hard. "It was terrible. Some sort of underwater eruption, followed by a sea-quake. And water. Water everywhere in Port Royal. There is a tidal wave coming, I think around noon tomorrow! We have to get there now and warn them! Or rather, the crew will warn them. I will stay behind and fire blanks in the bay."

"I shall lead the party to deliver the warning- by your leave, Captain." Will's Quartermaster bravely volunteered, surprising everyone present by appearing in his fully decorated Admiral's uniform, still stained with blood near his midsection, but it was better than his crewmen's dress which he'd worn for the past decade. Will raised both his eyebrows, but then smiled. That uniform commanded respect no matter who was wearing it, dead or alive. It ensured that the warning message of imminent disaster would be heeded by every denizen of Port Royal and the nearby town.

"Aye, you have my blessing. Tell everyone to flee to Fort Charles, or at the very least to the wealthy sector. I think that area and above will be spared the worst of it." Will advised his right-hand man, and James nodded, swiftly exiting the Captain's quarters and barking orders to the curious crew on deck. "Loose all sails! Secure the rigging! We sail for Port Royal as if the hounds of Hades himself were behind us! To your stations, gentlemen!" He roared, surprising even his Captain with his vigour.

Walking up behind him, a gently smiling Will laid a hand on his overzealous Quartermaster's shoulder. "Or I can offer a faster alternative:" He winked slyly before calling out said order. "Dive!"

At his Captain's command, James blushed at his own overeagerness and conceded. Diving was indeed much faster than sailing halfway around the world, but only the Captain was able to command the Dutchman to dive and surface as he willed. James couldn't believe he'd forgotten that fact.

"James. With me." Will ordered, and his loyal Quartermaster and friend stayed at his heels as Will ran to his charts displayed on the table at the stern, behind the wheel. Pulling a chart of Port Royal, Will quickly circled a patch of open sea somewhat near the mouth of the bay. "I think we should surface somewhere in this vicinity and sail into the bay. Wouldn't want to alarm the lookout any more than necessary. Or worse: lull them into a false sense of security. If they recognise the Dutchman, they'll know it's me and disregard the warning we bring." Another idea suddenly springing to mind, he called to another crewman, "Hoist the colours! The Jolly Roger! That will be more proof of our ill tidings!"

"Aye, Captain!" The crewman called back, and within seconds, the appropriate flag was flying from the main mast of the legendary vessel.

Feeling a familiar pull after a few minutes, Will signalled to his crew to surface, and the Dutchman immediately righted herself atop the waves. Without missing a beat, the sails caught the wind and pulled the ship into the deep water bay of the Jamaican island Will had once called home- and fervently hoped to soon do so again.

As the ship loosed her anchor in the bay, all the crew unbound to the ship readied themselves to go ashore and warn as many souls of impending doom as was inhumanly possible. As expected, James led the charge, jumping into the first longboat and pointing grandly at their ultimate destination, looking every bit as impressive and commanding as the day he'd died. Will smirked to himself at his confident yet highly capable Quartermaster, then ran to midships and swiftly lit the fuse of the first cannon. "Time to wake up the neighbourhood." He thought to himself with an uncharacteristically boisterous laugh.

"What the Devil-?!" The sentry on watch observed as he rubbed the sleepers from his eyes as loud booming noises relentlessly erupted from the bay. Running to the window of his quarters, the guard jumped a foot in the air and pelted up the stairs to the battlement, nearly throwing himself against the bell and striking it, shouting at the top of his lungs, "Pirates! We're under attack! Port Royal is threatened!"

-Elsewhere-

"Everyone get to higher ground! Those able-bodied souls, flee to the fort! Those infirm, seek shelter in the wealthy sector! A tidal wave is coming! Take nothing but your families and loose your animals!" James bellowed as he ran through every street and alley near the docks at which they'd made landfall.

"James?!" An unexpected yet unmistakable voice gasped incredulously as none other than Elizabeth Turner emerged from a door to his back, still clad in her dressing gown. The former Admiral smiled gently at the serendipity, then repeated his message- in a significantly softer tone, of course. Elizabeth looked shocked, but then nodded and vowed to pass on the message to every soul she could reach as well, knowing that her words would carry more weight, her being the new Governor of Port Royal after the unfortunate murder of her father so many years ago.

"Thank you." Both Quartermaster and Governess imparted in unison, then both smiled at their timing. "Thank Will, or whatever being sent him a vision of this impending catastrophe." James said with a sly wink, then ran down another side street, calling out his crucial warning to all ears within aural range.

-Hours later-

Aboard the Dutchman, Will sat on the starboard staircase to the stern, taking just a few minutes to catch his breath after running back and forth like a headless chicken as he fired all of his ship's cannons back-to-back for ten hours straight. Suddenly, a pang shot through his heart cavity and he gasped. He knew that feeling, all too well.

Someone, a soul he knew, was about to die.

Without a word and forgetting his prior exhaustion, Will dove into the salty blue depths of the bay and commenced swimming to the now mostly flooded port town in which he'd spent most of his childhood years, already dreading what- or more accurately- whom he might find.

After a mere fifteen minutes, Will had reached the roof of the old blacksmith's forge in which he'd been apprenticed as a boy to the perpetually drunken Mr. Brown. To his surprise, he could hear faint yet unmistakable cries for help coming from the nearly submerged structure, along with frantic braying from the donkey that had assisted Will in keeping the forge stoked and ready for use at all times of the day.

Not wasting any more time, Will swiftly dove down to the entrance into the shop. Discovering the problem immediately, that the heavy wooden door was locked and barred, he broke down the door with a strength he didn't know he possessed and swam through the newly splintred doorway with ease.

Surfacing near the apex of the roof, Will spotted his old master and loyal animal companion struggling to keep both their heads above water. Mr. Brown looked as if he'd seen a spectre, but then recovered when Will smiled gently in both greeting and reassurance. He pointed back down into the water, then beckoned with his hand for the older man to follow him out of the passage he'd created. Mr. Brown looked at the poor donkey, still struggling and terrified, but one look from Will told him that she would be alright in his capable hands.

As Mr. Brown dove to the doorway and swam to safety, Will swam over to a portion of the roof that he knew had been rotting away for years even before he'd left on his first 'adventure', then proceeded to pull away the decrepit and crumbling boards and framing of the roof so that the crazed animal at his side could escape her would-be watery grave. He nodded in approval of his own efforts as the working animal swam through the escape hole with undeniable relief.

Proof of the resounding success of his crew came not a minute later as his heart-area finally relaxed, the cardiac cavity ceasing its pangs of unease as it no longer sensed the distress of other doomed souls. Port Royal's citizens were saved. And they had the brave crew of The Flying Dutchman to thank for it. Will inhaled slowly, then exhaled in an overjoyed yet exhausted huff of relief. Ten years from now, his erstwhile home would still be here to welcome him. And so would his family. Of this, he was absolutely certain. Without a doubt.

-The next 'One Day'-

The Dutchman once again broke the surface of the bay of Port Royal- nearly destroyed by an earthquake and tsunami some years ago, but surviving with nary a casualty thanks to their most heroic son, Captain William Turner and his legendary crew. Nearly as soon as the vessel righted herself upon the waters, the bells of the fort tolled out their chimes in celebration. At long last, Will was finally home. And if the terms of the Curse were to be believed, he was finally coming home to stay.

As Will and most of the crew made landfall at the new docks that were moved quite a bit further inward- considering the originals were several fathoms underwater- the fort's cannons fired their payload of coloured parchments of all hues, ribbons and streamers decorated every palm visible from the town, and children ran with kites and long ribbons attached to wands that they happily twirled in artful patterns.

"WILL!" As always, one voice stood out from all the rest of the joyous welcoming committee, which- to the flabbergasted Captain- seemed to be the entire population of the British settlement.

"Captain Turner's returned! He's finally home!"

"Where's he been all these years, Mama?"

"'aven' I told jou, Sweet'eart? 'e's the Ferryman. 'e probably guided yer Papa to 'eaven. Twouldn't surprise me one whit if 'e did!"

"I thought he was dead! It's a miracle!"

"Our hero, back from beyond the edge of the world!"

Awed and humbled by all the praise and adulation, Will merely blushed and bowed his head, having never been one for speeches. Still, he felt he should say something to them. Stepping onto the new dock from the longboat in which he'd arrived, Will cleared his throat and the crowds' roars and cheers quieted almost immediately to whispers and murmurs.

"Thank you." Will smiled, the beginnings of joyful tears already welling up in his eyes. "That's really all I can say. Port Royal has always been my home since I was a boy, and will remain thus to the natural end of my days, whether Calypso returns my heart or not. It has been an honour to serve, though I cannot say I would take up this charge again- if given the choice." He joked, and several hundred titters and chuckles followed his own. "If this is truly the end of my journey, my dearest wish now is to spend my remaining mortal years with my family. I will not say that I never intend to sail again, but I do not plan on crossing between worlds until the time comes when I become a passenger, not the Ferryman himself. Again, I thank you all- from the bottom of my heart. This is by far the grandest welcome I have ever received, and I can say with confidence that I shall never forget this day. With that, I only have one last statement." Will paused, closing his eyes, bowing his head once again, and smiling at his boots. "I'm home."

…

Immediately after making his impromptu speech, and after the crowds had dispersed to go about their business, Will practically dove into the open arms of his beloved Elizabeth, who could only beam with pride as she peppered his face with kisses and tears of joy. Finally she looked up, smiling- still with tears in her eyes, tears that were mirrored in his. Then their lips met and they kissed. All the longing she'd felt during the twenty years of waiting, all the sorrow she'd undergone, all the joy at seeing him again and being in his arms, welled up in Elizabeth's heart as the tears spilled down her cheeks. Will tasted them on her lips and looked up to find her crying- though these were not tears of joy as before.

"Elizabeth?" He questioned gently.

"I don't want you to leave again!" She sobbed. Was this always to be their fate? One Day every ten years, until she was old and grey, then eventually gone from this world? While Will would be frozen in time, immortalised at twenty-two, doomed to roam the breach between worlds for all eternity, ferrying the souls of the dead until Judgement Day?

Will held her close and rocked her gently, as he had many years ago when they had learned of her father's death, and again on the first One Day. Then suddenly, as her tears fell on his scar- the one marking where his heart should have been- he gasped as if in pain. Elizabeth looked up, startled.

"Will, what is it? What's wrong?" She echoed his gasp, however, hers was filled with horror rather than physical pain.

He didn't answer but gasped again and lurched forward.

"Will…?" Elizabeth began again when he gasped a third time, staggering forward and falling to his knees, clutching his chest in pain. She fell to her own knees beside him, fearing the worst. "Will?" She whispered tearfully.

For a few agonisingly slow moments, he didn't respond, but then groaned a little and straightened up, panting slightly. "What happened?" Elizabeth demanded.

"I- I don't know." He replied, clearly shaken. "It- for a moment, it felt as if Jones' blade was in me again. No-" He corrected himself. "This was worse. It felt like- like when my father cut out my heart." Still breathing erratically, he held a hand to his chest and covered his scar, breath hitching in his chest when he noticed something miraculous:

A heartbeat- in a chest that had been silent for nearly two decades.

"I'm- it… I can feel-" He stammered, scarcely able to believe his own senses. Did this mean what he thought it meant?

"Your heart! It worked! We did it!" Elizabeth rejoiced, throwing her arms around her awestruck husband and once again kissing him full on the mouth. "The Curse is broken! You're finally free, Will!"

"I'm free-" He repeated slowly, as if in disbelief. Then the truth dawned on him, and his eyes lit up like the morning sun. "I'm free!" He rejoiced, revelling in the pure, unadulterated wonder and joyous news that he could finally return home and be a father to his family. "I'M FREE!" He bellowed uproariously, throwing his arms wide and spinning around just for the fun of it, giddy as a schoolboy with a first crush and perhaps who had overloaded on sugar.

-Hours later, in a tavern-

"For- he's a jolly good fellow!

For he's a jolly good fellow!

For he's a jolly good fellow-!

And so say all of us!"

"Uhh-" a collective pause rippled through the tavern as none of the revellers could think of any verses to contribute, but then-

"He's got a new lease on life!

A family and loving wife!" James grinned with a sly wink directed at Elizabeth, who giggled at her old friend's uncharacteristically silly antics.

"For he's a jolly good fellow!

For he's a jolly good fellow!

For he's a jolly good fellow-!

And so say all of us!"

The crew of The Dutchman sang raucously as they supported a surprised yet honoured Will on their shoulders as they danced and celebrated with their flagons, bottles and barrels of rum. Much to Elizabeth's surprise, Will had actually downed a few pints himself, but looked no less sober than earlier when he'd given his speech on the pier. Though, the young Governess had to admit that her husband appeared to radiate joy from every part of his being. Whether that was from the alcohol or the end of the Curse, however, Lizzie still wasn't sure.

Some distance away, smiling from the shadows of the somewhat riotous tavern, was Calypso herself, clad in her human vesture and observing her reluctant yet infinitely capable Ferryman as he celebrated his long-awaited homecoming with his old neighbours, townsfolk and his- relatively- new crew and family. Catching the eye of her stalwart Captain, she smiled very deliberately at Will and nodded silently. The overjoyed, beaming grin on his face slowly softened into a more awed and solemn smile, and he closed his eyes briefly and thought so that only she could hear: "You knew." He stated as a matter of fact, not a question, but she nodded again anyway. "You knew that earthquake and tidal wave were coming. That's why you let the Curse continue for another decade. You wanted me to be the one to save them. Because I was the only one who could." He continued, suddenly feeling guilty for accusing her the way he had ten years ago.

"Jes." The goddess replied, also communicating without words that she forgave him for doubting her master plan. "As I said before: Ya have a touch of destiny 'bout you. And wid dis, ya prove ya worth. Ya prove I chose well. But dis not be ya destiny. Ya be not a god. So I return de Duty to its original host. Charon be de eternal pilot of de Styx, and all dose who go de way of all flesh. You are free, William Turnah. Now and forevahmore."

Then she disappeared back into the shadows of the tavern.

…

The celebration of Will's long-awaited homecoming ended up lasting for an entire week, in which the denizens of Port Royal and the crew of The Dutchman drank and made merry with their favourite Captain and hero. To no one's surprise, Jack Sparrow and company joined in midweek and celebrated as well, merging seamlessly with the rest of the revellers as if they'd been present from the beginning.

During this time, an extremely inebriated Jack had actually challenged the young immortal to a drinking game to celebrate his homecoming, shocking the entire crew of The Black Pearl when he issued said challenge.

"Are ye sure that be wise, Captain? Challenging an immortal to a contest of endurance such as this?" Gibbs queried, torn between concern and amusement.

Jack grinned. "Only when I know said immortal happens to be a bit of a lightweight in that department." He teased genially with a sly wink toward his fellow Captain and best mate.

Will's jaw dropped in a shocked and slightly offended gasp. But then he grinned. "Oh, that's it! Bring it on, Sparrow!"

…

"I'm feeling a slight tingling in my fingers. I think it's starting to affect me." Will observed thoughtfully after what must have been his twentieth bottle of rum as he held up a hand and studied his palm with an amused smirk on his face. Glancing across the table, his smirk widened when he saw that his fellow captain had already passed out. Judging by all the snoring, Jack must've been zonked out for a while.

"Hongera, Kapteni!" A relatively young crewman of The Flying Dutchman called from somewhere behind Will, and the young captain grinned even wider in response. "Asante, Askari!" Will called to the young soul- a deceased former slave- behind him.

Elizabeth, seated at her husband's side but not a participant in the game, looked confused. "What did you say, Will? Since when could you speak other languages?"

Will shrugged. "Ever since I took up the Duty. It would not do for the Ferryman to not understand his passengers or vice versa. Askari can only speak and understand his native tongue of Swahili. As for what we said, he was congratulating me on my victory, and I thanked him." Then he turned pensive. "I had thought that blessing would have diminished by now, though, given that the Curse is fading. I can no longer teleport as I once did, and my healing gift is now also beyond my grasp."

"Learned knowledge do not fade so easy, William." Calypso grinned from somewhere in the shadows of the tavern. "Consider dis my 't'ank you' fer all dat you done in my service. You be able ta speak and hear all tongues of men, but dey all sound to you as yer own first tongue."

"So, you're saying that Will is fluent in every single spoken language, but unconsciously? And that they all merely sound like the King's English to him?" Elizabeth asked to clarify, and everyone present felt an answering nod, though they could no longer see the incarnated goddess. "Incredible…" Elizabeth breathed, too awed to speak above a whisper.

…

Amidst the chaos and celebrations of the week, a far more sobering experience took place near the end of the third day of partying. The time had come for the departed crew of The Dutchman to finally move on after decades in service to their erstwhile monstrous Captain. Elizabeth was in attendance to this momentous occasion, as was Calypso, once again disguised as Tia Dalma so as not to cause alarm with her true form.

Feeling something of a sense of déjà vu, Will stood calmly on the deck of The Dutchman, mentally preparing to address his loyal crew one last time. Nodding to himself after a moment to steel his nerves, the young immortal exhaled softly, then looked up and met the eyes of every sailor who had served him faithfully these twenty years.

"I- do not know what to say, other than 'thank you'. When I first took up this charge, all of you were given a choice. You could have moved on and left an inexperienced blacksmith-turned-pirate to flounder in these uncharted waters for the rest of eternity, but all of you chose to stay by my side, helping me and imparting your vast wealth of knowledge to your too-young, overwhelmed Captain who was clearly out of his depth. Thank you. Truly. I thank you all, from the bottom of my heart." Will bowed his head and smiled, tears of gratitude streaming down from his chocolate-brown eyes.

When her chosen Ferryman had finished, Calypso stepped forward to convey a few words of her own. "Dat bein' said, dere now be a choice before all of you. Ya may pass on ta Fiddler's Green as ye should 'ave so many years ago, or-" She smiled, pausing for effect, "-ya may be restored to de life ye once had, so long ago for most. For most all of you, yer time be cut short, by Jones, by curse, or by disaster. You be free to choose."

As one, most of the undead crew's mouths dropped open, but Will and Jack both smiled- albeit for different reasons. Will was smiling at the fact that the good men of his crew were finally free after decades- and in some cases- centuries of service- including, and most especially, his father. Jack's proud smirk was a reaction to the always-surprising size of his one-time lover's heart. It was true that the sea could be a fickle mistress, but at the same time, not many knew that she had a compassionate heart as big as the ocean.

As for the former crew of The Dutchman, they'd managed to pick their jaws up from the ground and ceased gaping at the goddess before them, muttering and whispering amongst themselves concerning their absolute shock and incredulity.

"My Lady, surely- surely you jest." James breathed weakly in disbelief, but Calypso merely smiled coyly at him and winked. Will chuckled at his friend's expression, which now looked even more confused. To simplify matters, Will quickly uncoiled a rope that was part of a nearby piece of rigging and laid it flat and straight on the deck. "Put simply, those of you who wish to move on, step to Lady Calypso's side of the rope. Those who wish to stay, remain where you are."

No one moved for a solid minute, but then something unexpected occurred. The form of a man quite literally emerged from the woodwork and wordlessly moved to Calypso, giving a worn yet warm smile to his young Captain as he stepped over the rope and immediately took on a transparent form. It took Will a moment, but the young immortal finally recognised the first spirit to cross the line. "Wyvern." He breathed softly in slight surprise, but then smiled. If any of his crew deserved rest and peace after all they'd been through, it was certainly this poor soul.

Once one soul had gathered the courage to move on, most of the crew then followed suit, all stepping through the mortal veil and leaving their earthly forms behind. Soon, the only crewmen to remain on the human side of the barrier were the First Mate and the Quartermaster of The Flying Dutchman, Will's father and his closest friend for the past twenty years.

Seeing the two remaining crewmen were resolute in their decision not to leave their Captain's side, Calypso smiled warmly and nodded, causing the Breath of Life to return to the two gentlemen flanking her former Ferryman. Both gasped deeply in wonder, then revelled to themselves at the pure exhilaration of simply being able to breathe again. With a final nod of farewell and approval, Calypso smiled one last time at the finally reunited family and faded from sight, taking with her all of Will's crew that had chosen to leave. As a final gesture of gratitude and respect, both captains removed their hats and placed them over their chests in a farewell salute. Not about to be outdone, the other gentlemen present bowed and the ladies curtsied as low as their muscles would allow, Liza nearly touching her knees to the deck floor.

"You're no longer bound to The Dutchman. You're free." Will repeated his own words from the first 'One Day' nearly twenty years ago, but this time, he was speaking to two of his former crew and not only his father.

"Aye. That's a fine thing- but, by my reckoning, I still have a debt that's to be repaid, if you'll have me." Bill also parroted his own words from that same day, and beside him, James nodded in agreement. Will grinned in amusement, then gestured with his head to follow him. "To the fort then, gentlemen. Rather, James to the fort, and Mr. Turner to the wealthy sector- to the home of Governess Elizabeth Turner. Your home is with us, for the rest of your days."

"Aye. I think I'll take ye up on that offer, William." Bill smiled warmly, putting a gentle hand on his son's shoulder in a fond gesture of gratitude. "After close to forty years at sea, it might finally be time for old 'Bootstrap' to retire. Spend my remaining years with my family, like I should have done from the start."

James nodded his approval, then voiced his own opinion. "I believe I shall follow your advice as well, Captain- er- Will. Fifteen years in the Royal Navy is a fine length for a career, to be sure, but I could always extend said career- notwithstanding my brief hiatus as a crewman of the Dutchman. I'm sure they'll be shocked by my return, but they'll be happy to have me back as well."

Will nodded in approval of both his crewmembers' choices, inwardly rejoicing that they too were granted a second chance at a better life, just as he'd been given. James had become a dear friend these past twenty years, and to have his entire family reunited and free had been his dearest dream ever since he'd discovered his father was still alive, relatively speaking.

…At long last, the tales of the doomed ship, The Flying Dutchman came to an end, and her most noble Captain was discharged from his eternal duty and granted his life anew, blessed with decades of health, peace and safety with his beloved family. The Duty returned to Charon, as Calypso had vowed, and the Dutch fluyt became a natural yet still magnificent vessel, still sailing on the tradewinds and ferrying cargo to numerous, wondrous shores.

Eventually, The Flying Dutchman was commissioned by a certain captain, a one Phillip Vanderdecken, bound for a voyage to Valparaiso with a precious cargo of emeralds and other treasures, and crewed by sailors of all nationalities and varied standards of morality, who would all meet their fates in the perpetually treacherous waters of Tierra del Fuego around Cape Horn and St. Elmo's fire.

The End