(Untitled)

[byhisbootstraps]

[Out of Milliways: In Tortuga, a young Bootstrap Bill Turner runs into an old friend.]This calls for a celebratory bottle of rum, they've agreed; so it's down the ladder to the cargo hold, Bootstrap in the lead

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[turned_captain]

Will is beginning to feel moderately guilty that he's here and eating, and not out there and working, so he's rather inclined to start heading out.

The second pirate he recognises, and has just decided to avoid him, when he gets a proper look at the first.

Will's mother carried a miniature in a locket within her bodice, and she often got it out to show her son. It was cheap, and hastly done by a cheap artist with little natural talent, and it's now buried with her, but Will has seen enough to remember it, and to get a good idea of the man it portrays.

It can't be this man, though. Not this pirate.

Will stares.

[byhisbootstraps]

The pirate in question hasn't seen the boy yet; he's deep in earnest conversation with the other pirate, the black-haired one.

[turned_captain]

He sits, and he watches, and he waits, until the black-haired one, he of the strange walk and expressive arms, sees something of vital importance somewhere else in the inn, and wanders off to make his presence known.

Will then stands, hesitant, and steps towards the man left behind.

"Excuse me, sir?"

[byhisbootstraps]

Bootstrap glances down, and smiles -- the boy has an appealing innocence to him, and a passing resemblance to his own son whom he hasn't seen in years.

"Yes, lad?"

[turned_captain]

Will swallows.

"Are you..." please don't be, not a pirate, no, not you... "William Turner?"

[byhisbootstraps]

... that's unexpected.

"Aye," he answers, too startled to temporize. "Why do you...?"

He trails off, looking closer.

[turned_captain]

Will makes an effort, and pulls himself together, standing up.

"That's my name, too," he announces.

[byhisbootstraps]

Bill stares.

More than a passing resemblance --

"William?"

[turned_captain]

Will nods quickly, and glances to where the other - to where the pirate had sauntered off to.

"He's a pirate," he points out helpfully.

[byhisbootstraps]

Bootstrap follows the boy's -- his son's? -- glance after Jack Sparrow, and his smile warms.

"He's a good man," he says quietly.

[turned_captain]

Will considers this for a second. Those two concepts aren't really compatahble in his mind, and he doesn't know how to reconcile it.

"Are you really my father?" he asks.

[byhisbootstraps]

"Is your father William Turner the merchant sailor?" he asks gently. "Who sailed out on a ship called the Wicked Wench when you were just a babe in your mother's arms, and who once sent you a wooden flute all the way from Virginia?"

[turned_captain]

Will nods silently.

Then adds, because it seems a suitable confession:

"I lost the flute. But I have this..." and pulls urgently on the chains around his neck, that disappears into his shirt.

[byhisbootstraps]

Bill sees the coin, and smiles; one of the many he'd sent home to Mary, no doubt, pierced through and worn for luck.

(He might think twice about that assumption if he looked long enough to realize that the coin's gold, not copper.)

"Good lad," he says warmly, letting his hand rest for a moment on the top of his son's head.

[turned_captain]

Will places the coin back under his shirt, and grins proudly, standing up straight under his father's hand.

"I came to find you," he explains, proud more than anything that he actually succeeded.

[byhisbootstraps]

"Did you."

There's a touch of concern in his face, now.

"Does your mother know?"