And in that year, he had told me never to leave the ship unless it was at his side, he wanted nothing to happen to me. I agreed, because there was no place more safe than at the side of a captain. Even one so strange as Sparrow. I had gained a nickname by then, Bootstrap Bill, since when I was nervous or unsure of myself, I tugged on my bootstraps and shuffled around.
I was growing up then, having to rummage around in whatever clothes they had pilfered from other ships and shops when we ransacked towns, and wear those, no matter how ill fitting they were. By the time I turned fifteen, I was fully grown, at least staying at the height I am today, and all the growing I would do from then on was outward. I had gained quite a bit of muscle, having been made to haul gunpowder, rum, and chests from one deck to the next. My list of chores grew longer the more I grew, and soon I was no longer the cabinboy, but the quartermaster. I knew my treasure well enough to know how to section it off into shares, and did so easily and efficiantly.
Jack continued to teach me what he knew, and often asked me to look over a map or written directions for him to see if he had missed anything important, which he always had. After all, the man couldn't read. I never let it slip, however, and just stored that knoweldge away in my mind, and kept the whole thing rather hush-hush.
The years flew by, it seemed, from one almost too-bizzare adventure to the next, and before I knew it, I was a man. Jack decided that to celebrate my seventeenth birthday, we would go to Tortuga. He shoved a bagful of gold into my hand and threw me into a brothel, telling me not to come out until the bag was spent.
Really, it was the best gift he could have thought of, given the situation.
And it occured to me then, how very much he cared for me, and I cared for him. But beside the father-figurelike behavior there were those feelings which weren't proper at the time, and I set them aside. Propriety still was a very large issue to me, being raised to respect propriety and follow it to the utmost of my being. He never really did or said anything to show me that he was really in that mindframe either, so I set it aside, let it go for a good long while.
At the age of twenty-three, I met a woman by the name of Isabelle. She was lovely and darling, and lived in a colony of the New World. She had been visiting family in the Caribbean and I had just happened to be on the same island as she for the week, for supplies and, at least from Jack's selective wording, "a bit of shine", which could have meant anything. She and I fell and love and eloped without any permission whatsoever. Which is to say I secreted her aboard the 'Pearl and persuaded Jack to go back up to London. After all, it had been ten years since I saw my family, despite my monthly letters to them since the beginning. We were married on board the Black Pearl, by Jack himself, and in attendance was the crew, each one of them a good man, and a good pirate.
I finally returned home with Isabelle at my side, and introduced her to my family. I told her to remember that to everyone else, I was a trades merchant, and she abided to remain quiet about my true profession, as I set her up with a fine home in London. My brother, Robert, had taken over the antique shop after my father's retirement, and I made arrangements to send him all that I thought fit for him to sell, and arranged that everything else I made as pay be sent to my wife.
I stayed on land for two months, whilst Jack went off on one of his frequent adventures. It was my first time not being at his side since I was a lad, and although I didn't admit it to myself, it wasn't the sea which was calling me back to my profession, it was my longing for the captain.
I left Isabelle's side once Jack returned to fetch me, apparently I was more integral to the goings-on of the Pearl than both he or I ever thought, and I was back aboard, still pining away for Isabelle.
It was only a month later that I recieved word that my wife was pregnant. I was elated! Jack was happy for me, as well, and that night, we drank in her honor, wishing her the best pregnancy a woman could suffer.
And it was a quick seven months later that I was back in London for Isabelle's birth. She cursed me as many times as she could while in labor, all manner of propriety gone out the window as she gave birth to our only son. I named him after myself, and stayed with her for one week after, praising both her and my new son as the world itself. Of course, all this time, Jack was being antsy in London Proper, he never did like staying in the city for long.
Then the sea called again. I had a job to do. We sailed back south to the Spanish Main, and I found a particular eye for toys while going through the plunder. Isabelle wrote to me after my first shipment, that our son's nursery couldn't possibly hold that many toys, and I should just stick to sending antiques off to my brother.
However, I did send a toy off every month or so, because there was nothing so fine as having a son and wife to dote upon, even from as far apart as we were. The Captain also couldn't help but send along a few trinkets here and there, because he was just as happy about my new son as I was. Really, if he had any reason at all to live vicariously through me, he took it.
Five years went by, with bi-yearly trips back up to London to spend a month with my family, Jack saw to it that I had time with them when I could. He also commented to me that he had never seen a man so chipper after spending a month on land, yet so eager to get back to the constant threat of death as I. It was after William's seventh birthday that Isabelle insisted that if I loved the ocean so much, that I really shouldn't be kept from it. She knew as well as I that I was meant to be there. With her blessing, I cut the times of visiting with her to once a year for a month at a time. Young William was upset, and I did my best to console him, and started teaching him to fight with a sword. He said to me, the day of my departure, that he wanted to grow up to be a blacksmith, and make swords for a living. I told him it was a fine profession, and to keep up in his schooling and one day, he'd be the finest blacksmith the world had ever seen.
I arrived back on the Pearl, only to have Jack explain to me that I was, of all things, to be the first mate. I accepted those duties with no ego. After all, it was a daunting task to be the voice of the crew to the ear of the captain, and the man who'd be captain, should Jack fall.
When William was ten, I got news from my wife that she had been ill. It was crushing to hear that news. I never spoke of it to Jack, it was far too painful to speak of. He said that I had a cloud over me from that day forth. It was about then as well, that I had finally realized something peculiar about Captain Jack Sparrow. Since I had known him, he had never aged. He barely ever ate with the crew, though he was down in the mess hall every night, and even then, he had only taken a few bites, once or twice a month. He only drank rum. It just seemed odd to me, but I had always assumed he had eaten up in his own quarters.
The one last revelation I had at that point was that I had more than just cared for Jack, I lusted after him. I had surpressed those feelings, kept them to myself since I was a lad, but never spoke of them, and only thought of them when I realized I'd be losing my wife to an illness.
I came back to London a week before my son's eleventh birthday, and told my wife these things. Even as weak as she was from consumption, she found the strength of a hundred furies and threw pots and pans, and as much crockery as she could at me, telling me to leave the house and never return. And I did just that. My son, thankfully, was attending school at the time.
I kept a great many things hidden and stored away, including my emotions, my life back on land, and any secrets that most pirates would scoff at. I was a gentlemanly sort, a good man, quiet, introspective, and always had been. I knew that if anyone caught wind of my family back home, and my infatuation with Sparrow, that I would likely be strapped to a cannon and dumped overboard, or my family would pay for my own mistakes, and I wouldn't let that happen.
It was harder than it seemed to keep Jack out of my business, considering that my business WAS Jack's business. The captain had watch me grow up, and was even there at my wedding. And once I got promoted, I became a little less carefree about what I said to the captain. After all, Jack Sparrow wasnt known for talking, unless it was a story, or good advice. That, and he was uncannily perceptive. It was Jack who approached Bill about the crush I had. After all, it was a captain's duty to know these things.
But it was I who approached Jack about something a bit more bizzare. I remembered expressing a concern on why Jack never aged. He was much younger looking than a pirate who gained himself a great deal of fame in twenty years previous to my knowing of him, and stayed that same age all through the time that I sailed on the Pearl.
"How is it, that I've grown weathered and gained my share of wrinkles since coming aboard, and you haven't aged a day, Jack?" I remembered asking, rather drunkenly. Jack responded.
"Have I ever told you about the time I got my throat slit in Singapore?" Which really was a rather good answer in retrospect.
He told me a story, I honestly couldn't believe, but it came through in my hazy, drunken thoughts, and I asked the question that was really rather easily answered by the story itself.
"You're a vampire?" I asked Jack, having since become the captain's relief of sexual frustration. Of course, that bit went over quite well with me, as I had been fantasizing about that for years. Never thought it would happen, though.
Jack responded, having kicked his heels up onto the desk in the captain's quarters, leaning back into his chair, hat pulled over his eyes. "Aye."
"What's it like?" I asked, sitting across from Jack, leaning foreward with interest.
"What's what like?" Jack asked. His mind was off on other business, and he wasn't really paying that much attention. I had gotten used to that aspect of Jack, and also got used to repeating himself.
"What's it like to know you'll live forever? Is it truly as they say in the stories?" I had hundreds of questions, being that I was well versed in the stories and myths of every creature of legend.
"Not like the stories, I can assure you that much."
"But then, how is it? And how is it that you are able to walk in broad daylight upon the deck of the ship, when Vampires are known to be charred to ash at the mere sight of the sun?"
"A talisman, Bill. Keeps away all ill effects from the sun." Jack responded. "And the glare of it's taken away from coal." Another explaination to something which I had often wondered.
That night drew to a close, and I spent thinking about it for two more weeks before approaching Jack once more.
"I want to be one." I announced, after dinner with the crew, and going back up into the captain's cabin. Jack spun around slowly on his heels and looked at me with a critical eye.
"Why's that? What's in your head, Bill?" The captain tilted his head as if to carefully examine my eyes for the answer.
I, of course, wouldn't give my real answer to Jack, not that it would really matter if I did. I just didn't feel like saying that I wanted to spend eternity with the captain, because that would sound sentimental and sappy, which this decision truly wasn't. And it was a decision that I spent two weeks making. Not to mention, I enjoyed the feeling of the captain's teeth piercing my skin, the feeling of life being drained from me. The utter predatorial nature of the entire situation intregued me. But I gave the answer which best suited my needs.
"Because you've never given me an outright answer of what it's like, and I'll never be satisfied with one until I find out for myself." I said, punctuating with a cross of my arms and a single nod.
Jack tapped his bearded chin in thought, before turning back around just as he had before, waving me over to the alcove bed. "Come along. We'll be at port tomorrow morning." He said, as I followed and sat down in the alcove, upon the comfortable matress which I much preferred over the hammocks belowdecks.
Jack gave another critical appraisal of my face, before nodding. "Right. Get comfortable then." And I did so. Jack had asked another question, then, one which I couldn't really remember, but I remembered answering with "I don't fear death." Which was true in all ways. Jack nodded and gripped my neck, making me crane my head one direction, and it was then that I felt the sharp sting of fangs piercing into a rather large vein.
It took a minute or two until I felt his heart trying desperately to beat. I felt tired, and slightly helpless. I watched through half-opened eyes as Jack slit his own wrist and pressed it to my mouth, telling me to drink. I did as ordered, though it wasn't so much an order at all. Jack's voice was caring, quiet, and I even sensed kindness within it, which was more impressive to me than anything else that the night had held.
And then, I felt his heart beat one last time as I drifted away into oblivion. I recalled that there was no tunnel of light, no staircase, no fire. Nothing about the rumors on what's on the other side of death were true for me.
And when I woke up, hours later, Jack was still there, and everything was entirely too bright for my eyes, though it was still the middle of the night.
I still hadn't gotten used to it, the light. I wasn't used to most of it yet. The undeniably inhuman strength and speed, the ability to hear, and see, and smell, and feel everything so lucidly and vividly, as if nothing he did in my life was real, comparitively. I was still getting used to everything to that day. It was only two months, though, since that night, and this night was no different. The captain had given me a gift on top of all of that, the evening after I turned. A talisman, like his own, to be able to walk around during the day. What use is a pirate that can only sail at night?
It was only after my death, that I found out that Isabelle too, passed away that fateful night. I should have been happy that day, as we had just found a treasure which could have made every man on that ship happily, and richly retired. but I picked through my share, as one with no appetite would pick at his dinner.
Jack was a few feet away, picking at his own share of the loot, . "What's in your head, Bill?"
"Hm? Oh.. Nothing. I just don't know where to send the shine anymore." I responded, tossing a ruby to the pile of jewels and gold.
"Why not send it to your skirt? Just as you've always done, aye?"
"Well, see, that's the thing, Jack. Isabelle died not too long ago. William's being taken care of by family." I sighed, setting aside an orb made of obsidian and the size of a grapefruit to the other side, where I had put all the antiques and curiousities.
He blinked, paused, and shook his head a moment later. "Shame. Why didn't you tell me?"
"No reason to dampen both our spirits, aye? There's nothin' for it." I replied, trying to keep a smile on my face.
"What of?"
"Consumption. She'd been seeing the best doctors. It's amazing she lived this long, actually." And to that, Jack simply nodded his head before practically squeeking at a long string of pearls he found in his cut of the treasure. Nothing dampened his spirits for long, and that helped me get over it easier than I really should have.
We sailed to London soon after that, only to find my brother had sent my son off to the Caribbean to start apprenticing as a blacksmith, and to be closer to me. I should have had someone send out a letter that I had died, in retrospect. But Jack and I persuaded, as only Jack and I can persuade, my twin to come back down with us and set up shop in the same said town as my son, and look after him.
As it had been my profession to be a swindler, as scallywag, and a pirate, for most of my years, I learned the better, more advanced, yet easier, efficiant ways to do my job. After piracy became defunct, due to the overwhelmingly, ever improving cargo ships, Jack and I got into the business of being professional thieves. It wasn't in our nature to go against the grain of our very selves. We had made a boon in treasure and wealth beyond compare, in the two centuries past, so we were well off, and headed to land.
It was a rough transition for both of us, having lived most our lives, and our entire unlives on the sea, but we found it was easier to do things on land, where our loot practically came to us, not the other way around. I took up the harder parts of the job, planning, research, intellegence into certain things, while Jack just mused and stood back, letting me learn all I could about the new technologies of the world.
As pirates, we never really needed much more knowledge than how to fire a cannon, and how to navigate, and feel the changes of the wind. Navigation, reading maps, and the changes of weather became a second nature to Jack and I, things that we knew inherently well. But when we settled on land, in a small bungalow just outside of New Orleans (and several other homes and hideaways all over the gulf coast), he and I had to learn the other skills needed in our new profession. Stealth, how to read people (Which of course, I was never very good in doing, but Jack seemed profoundly good at this particular feat) and the ability to extract our loot without being caught.
We had both known how to be pickpockets. This was no large issue with us. As a matter of fact, there's times that I find other people's belongings in my pockets without even knowing I had swindled them. Lord knows how many watches I've taken, not to mention rings, necklaces, wallets, and anything that wasn't permanantly attatched to the person.
I digress.
Somewhere in the 1910s, Jack and I had a falling out of sorts. Not so much a falling out as a conflict of interest. I wished to go and learn more about the world, a latent curiousity that had always been a part of me, whereas Jack wished to stay about, and continue doing what we had done all the while.
I ended up finding myself in England, the place of my birth, my home. It had changed, but not as much as the rest of the world. And there was where I was hired to be a spy. This certainly was no different to me than stealing, though it was information which I was stealing, not treasures. I had become a part of the first and second world war. That was when I was given a second nickname. Instead of Bootstrap, I was Ageless Bill Turner. One cannot go nearly thirty years without aging, without gaining a name, it seems.
I met a few interesting fellows in that time, their faces and names forever etched in my mind, as clear as the ones I had met when I was young and mortal. I felt different, new, then.
But I felt incomplete without the Captain by my side, so after the Axis was put to their knees, I returned to Jack's side. He had been languishing without me. So we started anew. Prodigal son and his sire reunited.
And really, that's what we've been doing to this day, still thieves, still pirates, still lovers. Certainly, I'd learned my lesson in straying from my sire, and I will likely never do it again. I'm not that type. And anyway, Jack would be bloody useless without me, aye?
