Oct. 31st, 2006

turned_captain: (please don't eat me)
You know when you have those dreams that don't quite feel like dreams? When you're in the room you fell asleep in, when everything'sfine, except for the fact that you can't move. Or when you can move, it's slow and sluggish, as if through treacle. Maybe there's someone there. But whatever happens, you can't seem to move enough to fight it.

Will 's not sure whether he's awake or asleep, when he sees the figure eat the end of the bed, and it's with considerable effort that he's able to see who it is.

"Hello, Will."

She smells of lavender water and of talcum powder, layered on to cover the countless medicines and potions the doctors doled out for her. He grew to hate that smell. The thicker it was, the more sickly the woman that wore it.

It's a struggle to sit up, so he gives up, just lying there, peering through the gloom at her.

"Are you here? The Bar…"

She shakes her head. "I'm not here for long. Just a visit. How are you?"

"I'm… I'm doing well," Will confirms. "I'm a blacksmith now. I have my own forge."

"That's good!" she glances up sharply, eyes shining in the dark."I was so afraid you'd follow in your father's footsteps."

"No," Will says, but that remark cuts him deeply. "Why did you lie to me about him?"

There's a strange sound from the end of the bed, a rattling, raspy intake of breath into sick, sick lungs. Will reflects sadly, that he always hoped she'd be well, wherever she was.

"I was afraid you'd follow him," she admits. "Afraid you'd be lost to the call of the sea, and break some poor woman's heart. I didn't want you to be that man, Will."

Will tries to shake his head, but finds his head won't move. "I'm engaged to be married," he offers.

"Really?" She seems to clasp her hands together in delight."What is she like?"

"Clever. Strong, independent," he says. "I'm sure you'd like her. Her father is the governor of Port Royal."

"Port Royal?"

In the dark, it's hard to tell, but the figure suddenly looks threatening,hunching over the bed, breath rasping.

"You followed him to the Caribbean! You broke your word!"

"I never gave you my word," Will protests, coldly.

"You did. You said that you wouldn't go to find your father. You promised!"

"No." he repeats. "You promised, Mama. You put words into my mouth. I never did promise that Iwouldn't."

(You have to promise me, Will. You have to promise me that you'll never seek out your father. I won't lose both men I love to pirates. If you love me, you'll swear it.)

(I love you, Mama.)


"Oh, Will," his mother says, and suddenly her form doubles over in a fit of coughing. Struck with guilt, Will tries to move to her, but he's still unable to move. "I just wanted this one thing from you…"

"He's a good man," Will protests. "He made some wrong choices,but he's a good man. He's slaved to the crew of a damned ship, but I will save him."

"Save him?" she repeats eyes flashing up at him. "Save him? How can you save him when you couldn’t even save me?"

The coughing grows louder, escalating to almost deafening levels before Will is able to struggle to full consciousness, sweating and shaking.

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Will Turner

December 2007

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