There was so much of Henry, even though he was a young man, who was still nothing more than a boy yearning for the love and affections of his father. Within himself he was at war, wanting to crash against the man he looked so much alike - his father - and hug tightly to him as what might have been acceptable when he was a boy. But a man now, a child grown among pirates who’d become one himself, couldn’t do such a thing without risking loss of credibility. There was an even smaller voice, a voice he often worked diligently to not listen to, which warned him such affection may even be rejected. After all, for the all the stories he heard of William Turner and for all he’d been promised again and again his father loved him and would be proud of him, the man before him was still somewhat a stranger. Who was to say those stories were right? Or maybe they’d once been right, but the years might have changed him.
Henry wasn’t the sort who was good at hiding the emotions he was feeling. His internal struggled showed briefly across his young face, his brows dipped, brown eyes darkened with worry.
But his mind worked the words past what they meant to him - past having so many questions to ask what he would do for Henry, what he’s done for Henry - and to why he was here. Henry’s expression changed, became less the vulnerable boy who so craved the love of his father and instead the hard determination known to make-up most of his core. Henry lifted his chin and nodded a sharp, agreeable nod. “That’s why I’ve come.” Against all odds, against better judgement, this was why he had sought his father out and risked tempting fate to do so. “There’s a captain who’s supposed to be dead who’s not, I want to help you.” Because if the ghosts were refusing to be ferried, if his father was unable to do the job he was sentenced with, Henry did not want to think of William facing such consequences.
It’s odd for Will, whenever he gets to be on land... or see folk from on-land. Now stood on the decks of the Dutchman is his SON, the young man who was only a boy when they’d last seen each other (how quickly time passes, yet how slowly it does, too? His work on the ship takes up all of his time, but it’s arduous, and never-ceasing). Henry has grown up like himself -- he remembers surprisingly clearly himself at that age, after all, it was around that time that he’d had his first journey with Captain Jack to rescue Elizabeth.
He’s proud of his family. His wife, the pirate king, authoritative voice to match the powerful beauty by which he’s always been captivated. His son, now a worthy young pirate as well, who’s risked a lot to come here. Captain Turner KNOWS that his vessel is a dangerous one to track and board, if a person is not dead beneath the waves already... which, he’s glad to note, Henry isn’t. He’s very much ALIVE, and with him.
The mention of a captain who’s supposed to be dead PIQUES his interest, only in as much as he wasn’t sure if those who aren’t tasked with dragging drowned souls to the next world would have heard of it. Yes, Will has heard of such a man, and has been working it into his usual schedules to try and find him (it’s unsurprisingly hard to track a so-called ghost ship). Yet, for a moment his expression hardens a little, as he thinks a little more deeply about what his son has just said to him. HOW does Henry know, exactly? Perhaps it’s just hear-say, but is that enough to come all the way to the Flying Dutchman?
❝ Have you seen him? Captain ‘Salazar’? ❞
His dark eyes now meet Henry’s head on, and he takes a step forward. There’s firmness in his gaze, but compassion, also. Though he doesn’t often show it, deep inside even William Turner Jr. burns a slight temper, a FIRE which can easily be stoked if somebody he cares about is in danger, or being threatened; he’s been in this position far too often before. Hands come up to rest on the younger’s shoulders -- it’s strange for him to note how tall Henry’s become, now -- and his hold is SECURE. A father’s grip, with concern for his son. For Will, distance and time won’t ever take away from that.
❝ The Dutchman isn’t safe -- not for the living. ❞
