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FIC: Suspended Animation - A Pirate's Life for Me
(Arrrr)
aztecgold
aztecgold
FIC: Suspended Animation
We never see Bootstrap Bill in the movie... but somehow, he's the first one I do fic about. Go figure.


He has gotten used to the fact that the water isn't cold. Somehow, it seems like it should be; then again, he's always cold, and has been ever since they took the gold, and maybe he wouldn't notice if the water were cold too.

It's almost a comfort that the moonlight doesn't filter down quite this far. Daytimes, when the sun hits the water far far above, he can see, vaguely, his own hand in front of his face, flesh and blood with the bones hidden safely underneath; nighttimes, it's just blessed darkness.

He wishes, sometimes, that he could have traded places with Captain Jack. Days of sun-blinded heat, with only a pistol for company, isn't the best fate-- but at least Jack could die. He wonders, sometimes, how long it took Jack, before the sun and the sand and the lack of food got to him. Because Jack did die, he's certain of it. Even Captain Jack Sparrow couldn't escape from a place like that, even with wings of palm tree fronds and seaweed strands.

He has considered, at times, freeing himself; it would be easy enough to do. But here, he's safe. The crew of the Black Pearl, he knows, needs his blood to break the curse. His blood, and the last gold medallion; hopefully the latter is out of their reach, but if it isn't, he wants to make sure the former is. They deserve to stay damned. And so he doesn't bother to escape, because if he escapes, they'll find him.

He spends much of his time asleep, because that is the only way to forget the odd sensation of water swirling in lungs that still breathe even though they don't need air. He spends the rest of the time staring up at the too-far-away surface of the water, wishing he were back on the Pearl. Back where he belonged.

Back where he doesn't dare go.

He feels it when they try the ritual to break the curse. Try, and fail, because they don't have the gold and they don't have his blood. He laughs, a crazy sound muffled by the weight of so much water.

He feels it when the last of the gold medallions touches water. The shock wave, a subtle current in the water, reaches even to where he is. The crew of the Pearl felt it, too, he knows. The gold calls to all of them. It's all he can do to keep himself from disentangling himself from the cannonball and chains, and going after the gold-- but they'll get there first, and he'll be damned if he'll give them his blood as well as the gold.

The salt water almost burns in his eyes.

He feels it when they try the ritual again, but they are still missing the final ingredient, and daybreak finds him looking up again, watching in his mind the dance of spray made golden by sunrise, something he hasn't seen in far too long.

He feels it when they try the ritual for the last time; at first, it just amuses him that Barbossa's so persistent when there's no way in hell he'll manage.

He then slowly becomes aware of more things. He feels colder, and wet, and surprised, and then he feels nothing at all.
2 bottles of rum gone * Drink up, me hearties, yo ho!
Comments
From: (Anonymous) Date: November 6th, 2003 11:46 am (UTC) (Link)

Oh, wow!

How cool is that...what a great fic. Thank you!
From: (Anonymous) Date: August 23rd, 2004 12:04 pm (UTC) (Link)
Ooh! Gave me goosebumps!

Marci.
2 bottles of rum gone * Drink up, me hearties, yo ho!