Chapter Text
It had been almost 400 years since Will Turner had become the captain of the Flying Dutchman. He had fulfilled the mission that Calypso had entrusted to him without complaining or asking for any reward. Because even when he had been blessed with the faithful love of a beautiful woman who waited for him every ten years until the end of her days, he had been unfaithful, sealing his curse. He loved Elizabeth, true, but he also loved the freedom of the Sea, to feel a ship under his foot, and that unfaithfulness, not of the flesh, but of the mind, had been enough to condemn him forever.
His crew had changed with time, but a few asked to remain under his command. His father, now his first mate, remained aboard no matter how many times Will told him he was free; Mr. Gibbs, who had died falling off a railing of a merchant ship at the ripe age of 70 joined the crew and proclaimed it was bad luck if he left; Hector Barbossa, murdered in his sleep aboard The Black Pearl - after the seventh time he had managed to steal it from Jack Sparrow- who was a good navigator once he admitted he wasn’t the captain anymore; Pintell and Ragetti, who had been mutinous in life, but surprisingly loyal in death, and insisted to stay for as long as Will needed them. Others came and went, but those who remained were the closest to Will’s thoughts.
Elizabeth had tried to hold on, and when her age started to show, attempted to live on the sea so when she died they could be together forever. But Calypso was a cruel and fickle mistress, and Elizabeth died from a fever in the American Colonies, away from the sea, and thus, Will was never able to ask her to join his crew.
After Elizabeth’s death, Will changed his habits, and no longer made berth on that desert island near Shipwreck Cove. In fact, he seldom used his one day every ten years, choosing to remain on board of his ship.
As years passed he became different, never corrupting his mission as Davy Jones had, but he was still far removed from the innocent and wide eyed apprentice blacksmith he had been.
Sometimes Bootstrap worried about his immortal son. However he remained at his side, respecting all his wishes, just as Will had respected Calypso’s.
That changed when Will Turner met an old friend whom he never expected to see again.
* * *
Will Turner, captain of the Flying Dutchman, watched the enraged sea with cold eyes. He hadn’t been to land in almost 100 years. After Elizabeth’s death he hadn’t any reason to do so. But this made him even more distant from mankind. In a way he had become more of a strange sea spirits than a human being and it had begun to affect his duties. It was hard for him to connect with those he ferried to the other side, and where once he had been understanding and warm to the newly deceased, acting like a merciful ripper, now he was cold and aloof. Perhaps that had been the reason his father came to him while the rest of the crew busied themselves below the deck.
“It’s been a while since you had a break, Captain,” Bootstrap Bill said, while his son kept his sight on the horizon behind the wheel. “Perhaps it is time for you to go ashore.”
“It still isn’t my day,” Will answered, not looking at his father.
“It’s been a hundred years; I think Calypso will understand if you go today instead of waiting for three more months.”
“There’s nothing for me on land, Father,” Will turned to see his first mate, angry. In his eyes, Bootstrap could to see the storm reflected back. “And I’d rather keep with our mission.”
“Part of the mission is to keep going to land, son,” Bootstrap wasn’t cowed. “Remember what happened to Captain Jones when he tried to change the terms.”
“Are you telling me that I haven’t done all Calypso asked of me?! That I haven’t made all of the sacrifices demanded of me?” Will asked angrily. “I have been the faithful captain of the Flying Dutchman for 400 years. I’ve seen all my loved ones die, ferried my own flesh and blood to the other side. I doubt Calypso can find any reason to complain for my services.”
“Aye, that’s true,” Bootstrap said raising his hands in a placating manner; he didn’t seem ready to face his son’s anger. Around them the storm became more furious. “However, she might think that you aren’t appreciating her rewards if you do not take a day off on land. Isn’t it safer not to risk offending her?”
Will had to admit that his father was right. He nodded and handed the wheel to him, saying he needed to think about it in his cabin. He never saw his father’s body surrounded by sea crabs, morphing back to the shape of the Sea Goddess.
* * *
It was very early in the morning when a wet William Turner emerged from the waves. While his crew had insisted that he should take a longboat, Will had declined. He had no real interest in pretending to be mortal, and truth be told, he was planning to spend the whole day watching the waves break.
However, while the crew had lost the ‘long boat’ discussion, they had managed to convince him to change his clothing. He was now wearing blue slacks made of a cotton-like material, that fit loosely around his waist, and had the words ‘blue jeans’ stitched on the back pockets. Their original owner had been taken to the other side the night before. Will was also wearing a black shirt with the legend Hotel California that showcased his muscles. It had been chosen by Ragetti, the only one in the crew who took it upon himself to talk with the new members of their group. The one eyed pirate said that it was fitting for their immortal captain.
The Flying Dutchman was led by his father for the time being, so Will’s only worry was not to die of boredom until the sun came down.
The shore where he arrived at was no different than the deserted islands where he had spent most of the last days of his mortal life. Barbossa, who had become his navigator, had told him that they were off the coast of Maine. Will had never been to the American Colonies, but his son William the Third, had. Young William had loved to share the stories of his travels with his father. Shaking his head to dispel those old memories, Will felt water drops hit his face.
His first crew had told him that Davy Jones didn’t feel anything. But even when Will’s heart was buried deep on an island no man had stepped foot on, he still had ghosts of feelings. When he thought of his family, he felt a hurt in his empty chest.
“Are you all right? Do you need help?” Will stood paralyzed, the waves gently rocking against his naked feet. The voice was familiar, even after all those years, a happy, rough, slightly slurred and teasing tone. There were no traces of the drunken cadence Will remembered, but even sober, it was still Captain Jack Sparrow’s voice.
Will hadn’t seen Jack pass to the other world. While that could mean that Jack, like Elizabeth, had died on land, Will hadn’t really considered that possibility. Although he had never confessed it to anyone, he had always kept the hope that somewhere hidden from the Dutchman, Captain Jack Sparrow was still navigating the Sea, free as he had always wanted to be: The Immortal Captain Jack Sparrow.
“No, I’m…” The words died on Will’s throat and he felt a strange constriction in his chest. The man who had seen him was standing far away from where the waves broke. It was hard to see his features, but even at the distance it was clear that he was standing straight unlike the perennial sway that was purely Jack’s. In the twilight, Will could see that the man had short hair and there was the slight shine of glasses. The Jack he knew had never needed glasses. “I’m fine.”
“Where you on a ship last night?” the man asked but he didn’t come closer to Will. His voice sounded very worried. “Do you need a ride to a hospital? My car is not far away.”
Will looked at the man for a moment. Even when he didn’t seem to recognize Will, even with the strange straightness of his posture, he looked almost exactly like Jack. The eyes were the same and Will couldn’t just bring himself to say no to the offer.
“I don’t need a hospital; perhaps a place to dry and have some breakfast would to be nice.”
“Are you sure?” the almost Jack said to him “You could have water on your lungs, and salt water can be incredibly infectious… and who knows what’s polluting the sea now a days. They said on the news that yesterday’s storm was quite dangerous, you really should come and let me take you to a hospital.”
Will took the opportunity to walk closer to the man, who still didn’t seem to recognize him but was honestly worried about his welfare. The man still hadn’t made any movement to close the distance between them, but didn’t walk away as Will got closer. Up close, his resemblance to Jack was uncanny. From the straight nose, to the angular cheekbones, and his dark deep eyes; truth to be told, the only differences were the hair, the glasses, and the clothes, far cleaner than anything Jack had worn as long as Will had known him.
“You can dry at my house, it’s not far away and I have a fireplace if you want to dry your clothes… I also can make something for you to eat. What do you say? After breakfast I can give you a ride to the local community college,” the man said. His smile was warm, sincere. Will could count with his right hand the times he had seen a similar expression on Jack Sparrow’s face.
“You are very kind, Mr…” Will let the phrase die hoping for an introduction.
“Borrows, but you can call me Jaques. I’m only Mr. Borrows inside a classroom.”
“William , but my friends call me Will.” And that’s how Will Turner, after 400 years of solitude, decided to risk his heart and make a new mortal friend again.