He stands there for several seconds, staring at the knife, his motionless form giving no sign of the struggle going on behind his eyes.

The voice of the ship is still there, everywhere; not like fog now but like the sea itself, filling his mind like water filling his lungs. But it's no longer the only voice in him.

"William."

Bootstrap Bill Turner straightens, and turns. And sees.

"My son!"

And lunges forward, broken sword and borrowed knife both forgotten, to attack Davy Jones with his bare hands.