A blaringly loud noise rouses him. It's a sound he had never heard before coming to this accursed city, yet one that has not stopped assaulting his ears since he arrived. The metal beasts that swan the blackened streets seem to be the source, but he cannot be sure. There is nothing quite equal to it either in Neverland or the Enchanted Forest, and he silently thanks the Gods above that there isn't.
He lies still for a moment, assessing his injuries and trying to ascertain where exactly he's hurt. The memory swims back to him behind his closed eyelids: the Swan girl. She bested him again. Though he isn't quite sure with what exactly, he knows that he landed a nasty blow to his head. He feels the dull ache there, throbbing only slightly now, but almost sure to worsen with the slightest movement.
He moves downward, checking his neck, shoulders, and arms for signs of damage. Everything else seems fairly intact, until he reaches his wrist. He smiles wryly before he can stop himself, as he feels a cold metal cuff biting into the soft flesh just above his good hand.
A soft cough comes from the opposite side of the room, and his eyes fly open in surprise. He moves to sit up, and immediately regrets that hasty movement. His head feels as thought it will cleave in two, and he quickly clamps his eyes shut and tries not to move until the wave of pain passes.
Lass got me good it seems, he thought ruefully to himself. Perhaps it would be best for my well being if I stopped underestimating her.
He opens his eyes, slowly this time, and moves gingerly until his back rests against the ribbed metal contraption that she's chained him to. His eyes find a young woman leaning nervously against the opposite wall. Her skin is the color of rich coffee, and he can't help but notice that she's extremely beautiful. Not really interesting enough for him to pursue, however, for at the moment, there are other matters occupying his thoughts.
Out of habit his face relaxes into his most charming smirk, and surprisingly, she begins to laugh.
"Might I ask what seems to be the joke darling, because I seem to be missing it in my concussed state."
"She warmed me about that look," the woman says, still chuckling, "she said you'd attempt to be charming. She's got you read like a book hasn't she?"
"And who, exactly, do you mean by sh-"
"Emma," she says, cutting him off entirely, "she asked me to watch over you and to let you free in a couple of hours. She also said that you wouldn't harm me when I did. Can I count on that to be true?"
He sighed, shaking his head at the absurdity of the situation. So close. He had been so damn close...
"Well, at least you're more appealing than a giant."
"Excuse me?"
Hook laughed quietly before explaining, "Forgive me I only meant-"
"You know what Captain Guyliner? I could leave your costumed ass down here for a very long time if I feel the least bit inclined. So if I were you, I'd start behaving like a gentleman."
A flash of annoyance crossed his features, "I am always a gentleman."
"Oh really?" she asked disbelievingly, "Then play nice, because I have the key." She held up the small silver key for his inspection, letting it swing for a moment before stowing it safely in her pocket.
"How long exactly before you let me go?" he said, shooting her a glare and settling back against the radiator to wait.
"About five more hours," she returned, consulting her watch to make sure.
"Well then, I suppose I'll just stay here then."
"Good idea," she whispered sarcastically, settling in on top of a pile of boxes to wait as well.
"You have a name love? Or shall I continue to call you whatever endearment catches my fancy?"
"Tamara," she replied. "My name's Tamara."
"Indeed," he said, considering his options quickly and deciding that "playing nice" would indeed be the best path for now. "Well Tamara, I have a feeling you and I shall be fast friends," he finished with a smirk.
She raised an eyebrow and rolled her eyes, "Whatever you say Captain Guyliner. Whatever you say..."