AN: This is a spin-off of my other story "Or Sleep with the Fishes," but it isn't necessary to have read it, as they are completely separate tales. You only need to know that I love whumping Killian, and that I ascribe to the "Hook as Pan's sex slave" headcanon.
Rated M for violence, gore, language, and hints of non-con (with the possibility of an explicit scene that I may or may not include. I will give a warning at the beginning of the chapter if I do.)
Chapter 1 is verbatim from chapter 17 of "Fishes."
Chapter 1
"I'll see you hanged, dirty pirate!"
Hook writhed under the spear impaling his shoulder, pinning him to the wall. He turned a murderous glare on the man who'd bested him and sneered through his pain.
"What's the matter? Too afraid to finish me yourself?"
The villager scowled but remained out of reach. "A quick death is too easy for the likes of Captain Hook."
"Well, listen to that. I'm famous."
"Most people think you're some kind of demon, coming out of the Underworld every few years to wreak your destruction on the innocent." He smirked and indicated Hook's wound. "I don't know though; you look pretty mortal to me."
A woman's scream sounded not far off, and the gazes of both men flicked in that direction. Hook chuckled mirthlessly.
"You have a wife, mate? Children?" His voice became a husky rumble. "Daughters?" His lecherous leer, forced though it was, had the desired effect as the villager lunged forward with an enraged snarl. His fist flew, and Hook's head snapped back against the wall hard enough to momentarily darken his vision.
"You'll not lay a finger on them! I'll see to that!"
Blinking back wooziness, the pirate huffed another pained laugh, noting the other man's sword against his throat. "I think you'll agree I'm hardly in a position to threaten anyone just now. Alas, the same cannot be said of me crew…"
After a flicker of uncertainty, the villager pasted a brave face over his worry. "Zeus will protect them. I will do my duty."
Suddenly, the man staggered backwards, then fell to his knees, his own dagger buried up to its hilt in his abdomen.
"Looks like Zeus is on my side; apologies, mate," Hook called down mockingly. Just then, Smee scurried around the corner, Johnny Corkscrew unsheathed. He stopped short and took in the scene.
"Impeccable timing, Smee," growled Hook.
"Sorry, Captain, I…" He rushed forward and held his dagger to the wounded villager's throat. Then his anxious stare returned to his captain. "How can I help?"
Hook raised a shaking hand to the spear handle and attempted to tug it free of the wall, but it was stuck fast, and his pain was now magnified tenfold. He moaned a breath and waved his hand at his cutlass, which lay just beyond his feet. "My blade," he breathed. Smee dragged the whimpering villager along until he could reach the captain's weapon while still keeping control of the captive.
Hook grasped the cutlass hilt tightly and grit his teeth. Without allowing himself to dwell on how much it would hurt, he took a mighty swing at the spear haft. Unfortunately, it was more sturdy than he'd hoped, and the blade only managed to cut a nick in the wood. With an agonized cry, he gripped the protruding weapon to stop its vibration, only just managing to keep a hold of the cutlass at the same time.
"Smee," he gasped, eyes screwed shut.
"Oh, gods, Captain; why would you do that?"
"Release the prisoner and come help me. He's not going anywhere."
Smee stepped away from the villager, who was still clutching at his wound, but managed a taunting sneer up at Hook.
"I got you good."
"I'll have your head for ruining my coat," Hook bit back with all the false bravado he could muster. Smee hovered at his shoulder, afraid to touch the spear.
"What do I do, sir?"
"Step back," hissed Hook. "Unless you'd like a hook of your own."
Smee complied quickly.
"And grasp the damn spear shaft so I can cut it short."
Smee got the picture. "Wait. What if… I think it would maybe work better if I… did the cutting? And you hold it steady closer to where it… goes in?"
Hook swallowed and nodded, conceding the point. He passed the cutlass to his first mate and wrapped his fingers in a death grip around the wood flush against his shoulder. "Not too close, mate. I don't fancy a shave today."
Nervously, Smee nodded and gripped the other end of the spear in his left hand and the cutlass in his right. He eyed the spot he was aiming for and then drew back the blade. Then he paused.
"Ready, sir?"
"Bloody hell, mate, just get on with it!"
Smee licked dry lips and then swung the blade, quickly but timidly. The spear splintered but remained intact. Hook moaned imprecations as his knees threatened to give way. Smee bit back a curse of his own before bringing the cutlass crashing down again. This time, the spear snapped off, leaving only a bit more than a hand's width protruding from the pirate's shoulder.
Face frozen in a grimace, Hook gasped several breaths and fought against the fiery agony racing through his arm and chest. He shuddered and began inching his left boot upwards against the wall, until the sole rested flat, his knee bent. Smee noticed and sputtered,
"Wait, Captain, are you sure that's the wisest…"
With an anguished yell, Hook launched himself forward, wrenching his shoulder free from the spear. He staggered a step and then collapsed onto his knees, hand pressed tightly against the wound. Smee gave an anxious whine and crouched next to his captain.
"Let me see," he commanded before gently pulling Hook's hand away. The bleeding was heavy, but not spurting in the manner in which Smee had come to associate with mortal wounds. He allowed Hook to resume clutching at the injury.
"Gods," hissed Hook, his eyes shut tightly in a wince. He arched his back at the unexpected contact when Smee pressed a handkerchief to the exit hole in his shoulderblade.
"Thought Zeus was on your side," muttered the villager from a few meters away.
"Still with us, mate?" Hook opened his eyes and glared. "What an unpleasant surprise. Smee."
Smee was attempting to dig some bandages from his satchel with one hand. "Almost finished, sir."
"That he is."
"I… I don't follow," Smee admitted.
"The honor is yours, sailor. Finish him."
"In a minute, Captain. First let me-"
"Now." His savage tone had Smee on his feet in an instant with Johnny Corkscrew in hand.
"Yes Captain."
Smee still hated killing. Always would. But he had grown unfortunately accustomed to it, and no longer hesitated to follow Hook's orders.
The doomed villager held up a hand to ward off the blow. "Wait! Spare me, and I'll give you something you want."
"Kill him, Smee. I'm not interested."
"It's about the Dark One," the man choked, Johnny tight against his jugular. Hook raised an eyebrow, and Smee paused.
"Dark One? Never heard of him," Hook replied casually. The other man gulped and continued.
"Tales of Captain Hook also describe how you raid libraries, places of learning. You torture wise men and witches, seeking information about the Dark One."
"And who is telling these tales? Captain Hook shows no mercy."
"Must be survivors. I don't know that part. But I do have something on the Dark One. I swear. Let me live, and I will impart my knowledge."
"Go on then. We'll decide later whether it's worth your life."
The villager licked his lips, saying,
"They say… his power is linked to a dagger. Similar in design to the one currently against my throat, in fact."
"Convenient," remarked a dubious Hook. He knew of the dagger's existence already, of course, from his brief encounter with Baelfire so long ago. But any details on its appearance or whereabouts had so far eluded him.
"If you can find the dagger, you can control him with it… or kill him and take his power for yourself."
Hook's expression darkened momentarily. Then he scoffed, trying to draw more information from the man. "Imaginative. Not bad, under duress. Smee?"
The villager hissed at the tightening of Smee's grip. "It's the truth! I swear it!"
"Aye? And how do you happen to be an expert on all things Dark One?"
"I wanted to be prepared for just such an eventuality as this. It's worth the price I paid if you let me and my family live."
"Afraid your word alone won't suffice for me. It's the company I keep." Hook winced a grin at Smee's affronted huff.
"I thought as much. That's why I have proof."
Hook struggled to hold onto his look of disinterest. In truth, his heart hammered at the prospect of actual progress after so many fruitless years. "Have you now? Let's have it, then."
"I don't have it with me. I didn't wake up this morning planning to get caught up in a pirate raid. It's at my home."
"Ah." Hook allowed himself to slouch forward, his pain and exhaustion only serving to magnify his disappointment. "A trap then."
"No, no; I swear it isn't! On… on the life of my beloved."
It must have been the shock and blood loss, but Hook found himself inclined to believe the man. And for proof of the weapon that could kill the Crocodile… it was worth the risk.
"There never was a trap could hold Captain Hook for long," he boasted ironically. None but his crew knew of their enslavement to Pan, to Neverland… the biggest trap of them all.
Hook turned his gaze to his first mate. "Up for a little walk, Mister Smee?"
"I don't know, Captain; we really ought to get you back to the ship so I can patch you up."
"Your tortures can wait," Hook grimaced. "Our new friend has made an invitation we can't refuse." He nodded at the man's wound. "Give him some assistance so he won't drop dead along the way."
Smee looked annoyed, but put away his dagger and dug out the bandage he had intended for Hook.
"No need to be gentle about it, though," Hook winked.
After both men had temporary bandages courtesy of Smee, they began the agonizing trek to the villager's house. Hook wouldn't have minded the slow pace, as his own legs trembled and the world seemed determined to knock him sideways with its spinning - except that his thirst for vengeance was a serious competitor with his patience. Smee was content to keep an eye on both patients and watch for straggling resistance from the other villagers.
Their guide finally limped to a halt in front of a moderate-sized dwelling, looking sweaty and ashen; Hook was sure his own countenance mirrored the other's.
"Smee? If you would?"
Sighing, Smee guessed,
"Spring the trap?"
"Your life for a chance at my revenge? A bargain, that."
Smee nodded resignedly and pushed his way inside, leading the way with Johnny Corkscrew. Hook and the villager waited outside, eyeing each other distrustfully. Finally, Smee returned with a shrug.
"There's no one inside. Want me to keep watch out here?"
"Aye. And don't bugger it up this time."
Smee winced and then stepped aside. Hook bade the villager lead the way, and he followed with cutlass in hand.
The house really was deserted, as far as Hook could tell. "Where's the missus, then?"
The homeowner sneered.
"Safe," was his belligerent reply. Hook prodded his shoulder with his blade.
"Need I remind you of our purpose here? You've one minute to retrieve your proof, or your lady comes home to a corpse in her bed."
Wordlessly, the other man led Hook to a small room that seemed to serve as library, laundry, and larder all in one. Without hesitation, the man pulled a book from its shelf and thumbed it open to a marked page. His fingers left rusty smudges on the paper; Hook's did likewise when he reached to take the proffered volume. Sure enough, the page contained a sketch of the dagger, ornately decorated but otherwise very like Johnny Corkscrew in size and shape. A short written description confirmed what the man had said earlier. Hook dangled the book open in an attempt to flick through the pages one-handed.
"Does it contain any other mentions of that demon?"
The man shook his head. "But feel free to take it and look for yourself."
"I'll do that, though I hardly need your permission, mate."
Hook tucked the book between his chest and immobile brace so he could properly brandish his weapon. Stepping closer, he shoved the villager back against the wall, blade to his throat. Both men winced simultaneously at the spikes of pain from their respective injuries.
"How do I know this isn't a forgery?"
"You don't," the man choked out. "But it isn't. I got it from a wandering wizard, several years back. I bet if you were to bring it to someone gifted in magic, they could confirm for you that it's genuine."
"The wizard. What did he look like?"
"Like… a wizard. White hair, long beard."
Hook scowled at the flippant reply, but was too weary and in too much pain to berate him for it. "Let me guess. You know nothing of his origin or destination."
"Like I said. A wanderer. Not seen him before, nor since."
It couldn't have been someone he knew. Someone who lived in the village, whom Hook could interrogate for more details. Of course it was a rover. Considering how much time had already elapsed in Neverland, how many blasted decades until the next snippet of information finally made its way into his possession?
Without further conversation, he forced the other man back to the doorway, where Smee waited vigilantly.
"Well?" asked Smee eagerly.
"He speaks truth," Hook reported. "Alas, no mention of the blasted dagger's whereabouts."
"So… now what?"
Both pirates looked at the villager, who met their gazes bravely. Hook sighed and sheathed his cutlass.
"Leave him be. By the look of that wound, he's not long for this world anyway."
Smee couldn't help a relieved little grin as the villager rolled his eyes and slammed the door behind them. "Back to the ship?"
"Aye. Back to the ship." Hook shifted his grip on the book and winced. "Bloody hell. Back to the rum," he amended emphatically.
