Prompt 111: Devils and Black Sheep
Title: Devils and Black Sheep
Author: Laura Smith
Pairing/characters: Bootstrap Bill, Will Turner
Rating: PG
Summary: Be careful what you wish for
Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribean and all the characters therein belong to people who are not me. I make no profit from this, I just like playing with them.
Author's notes: Written for prompt #111 - Bootstrap talks to child!Will just before he leaves for the last time.
Bill’s not paternal in any way, and it shows in the way he doesn’t pay any mind to the boy as he wanders about the ship. Children on a ship are bad news any way you look at it, always getting underfoot and about when they aren’t supposed to be. He doesn’t count the monkeys, because they’ve at least got a job to do, but one night of spilled drink and spilled seed and you’ve got a problem you can’t just leave in any port, a problem that comes to find you like you owe it something.
It’s clear as aces that the boy is his. Same damned face and same sad eyes. He’s not got an ounce of pirate in him, no matter that he’s the blood of Bootstrap Bill. The damned parrot’s got more pirate than the boy, who’s hopeless and helpless as a whelp except when he’s got a bit of steel in his hand. Nothing wrong with a tradesman, Bill knows. God and the Devil he’d give to have been a man with a trade, but pirate’s in his blood as sure as the sea will come calling.
He’s thought of drowning him more than once, and maybe that’s heartless, but it’s not as if his life as a pirate’s bastard is one that’s likely to bring him anything but pain. The problem is that the bloody child looks at him as if he’s wise and fatherly and something other than a drunk with a taste for the sea and nose for the wind. Fathers aren’t cut out to be heroes, and pirates aren’t cut out to be fathers, and that’s the way of the world. Feet of clay and veins filled with seawater are all Bootstrap Bill has to offer a child, and it’s damned time the boy knows it. Knows that he’s better off drowning and riding over the edge of the world than living here where the only thing that will keep him alive is the one thing sure as hell going to kill him.
Leave it to Barbossa to find something else. Spare the life to bind Bill to him even more. They hit the ship hard and find it wanting, leave it wanting even more. Bits and pieces of wood relieved of its shape and treasure and heavier one more passenger, draped over a board and pushed out to live or die, be it no more of Bootstrap Bill’s nevermind.
He looks down at the boy, floating on the wood, eyes wide and scared. He squats down along the railing, watching as the ship drifts off in the fog, out of sight. He can see the glint of gold around the boy’s neck and nods. “You should have stayed in England, Will Turner. The pirates’ life isn’t for you.”
Author: Laura Smith
Pairing/characters: Bootstrap Bill, Will Turner
Rating: PG
Summary: Be careful what you wish for
Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribean and all the characters therein belong to people who are not me. I make no profit from this, I just like playing with them.
Author's notes: Written for prompt #111 - Bootstrap talks to child!Will just before he leaves for the last time.
Bill’s not paternal in any way, and it shows in the way he doesn’t pay any mind to the boy as he wanders about the ship. Children on a ship are bad news any way you look at it, always getting underfoot and about when they aren’t supposed to be. He doesn’t count the monkeys, because they’ve at least got a job to do, but one night of spilled drink and spilled seed and you’ve got a problem you can’t just leave in any port, a problem that comes to find you like you owe it something.
It’s clear as aces that the boy is his. Same damned face and same sad eyes. He’s not got an ounce of pirate in him, no matter that he’s the blood of Bootstrap Bill. The damned parrot’s got more pirate than the boy, who’s hopeless and helpless as a whelp except when he’s got a bit of steel in his hand. Nothing wrong with a tradesman, Bill knows. God and the Devil he’d give to have been a man with a trade, but pirate’s in his blood as sure as the sea will come calling.
He’s thought of drowning him more than once, and maybe that’s heartless, but it’s not as if his life as a pirate’s bastard is one that’s likely to bring him anything but pain. The problem is that the bloody child looks at him as if he’s wise and fatherly and something other than a drunk with a taste for the sea and nose for the wind. Fathers aren’t cut out to be heroes, and pirates aren’t cut out to be fathers, and that’s the way of the world. Feet of clay and veins filled with seawater are all Bootstrap Bill has to offer a child, and it’s damned time the boy knows it. Knows that he’s better off drowning and riding over the edge of the world than living here where the only thing that will keep him alive is the one thing sure as hell going to kill him.
Leave it to Barbossa to find something else. Spare the life to bind Bill to him even more. They hit the ship hard and find it wanting, leave it wanting even more. Bits and pieces of wood relieved of its shape and treasure and heavier one more passenger, draped over a board and pushed out to live or die, be it no more of Bootstrap Bill’s nevermind.
He looks down at the boy, floating on the wood, eyes wide and scared. He squats down along the railing, watching as the ship drifts off in the fog, out of sight. He can see the glint of gold around the boy’s neck and nods. “You should have stayed in England, Will Turner. The pirates’ life isn’t for you.”