For a moment, Starkey considers taking out his pistol and pressing it to the side of James Hook's temple while he lies on the bed in the Captain's cabin, fever raging, blood still weeping slightly from the stump where his right hand used to be, despite the tourniquet that Smee fastened on just above it some hours ago. He considers pulling the trigger, and painting one side of the room red with the other man's grey matter, but not out of malice. No, while he still holds contempt for the man deep in his heart, and likely always will, the main thing he feels when he sees Hook now is pity. Which is why, were he to shoot him, it would be out of mercy and nothing less. Mercy for Hook and mercy for the crew. Hook, Starkey is aware, has gone completely mad. His journey to Neverland, his feelings for Liz, the loss of Liz, the betrayal of the closest thing the Londoner had to a son and the loss of his hand, at the sword of said boy, it had all happened so quickly, too quickly for any sane person to handle. If Hook survives the fever that is slowly consuming him (and that is, in Starkey's opinion, a very slim possibility, looking at the man's sweaty, flushed brow), he will likely be irretrievably damaged. That boy, that chaos child, that Pan-incarnate, he has done more damage to his father figure than he will ever understand. Starkey had seen, in the Tree Spirit city, on the ship, in the caves on Bull Island, he had seen the threads of madness in Hook, watched them grow thicker and stronger, and he knows, just on instinct, that if the man survives there will be no smooth sailing for the crew of the Jolly Roger. Living under Bonny had been hard, but doable, she could be reasoned with, she listened to him, she respected him. Hook, Hook didn't respect anyone in this eternal Hell. If he remained alive, Hook would only sink further in to insanity, Starkey had no doubt, and he would likely drag the crew down with him.
Starkey cocks his pistol, the metal of the barrel just brushing the left side of Hook's temple. The man groans, seeming to lean in to the touch of the cool metal, that is probably providing a small reprieve from the burning of the man's own body. He murmurs something unintelligible, and Starkey remains still, his gun cocked at the new Captain's temple, his finger on the trigger. He doesn't pull it for the simple reason that he is still weighing up the options.
If Hook dies, then the Jolly Roger has no clear captain. He could take over, of course, but knew of many men who would likely resent him, the foppish gentleman coward, holding such power over them. Jukes, Cecco, and Mullins, just to name a few, would probably start a mutiny if Starkey took power. And really, the Spaniard had no desire for such conflict. They'd lost enough men as it was over the last few days. At least with Hook and his descent in to madness, no one would be stupid enough to try and challenge him. His aim is too good, his cruelty and love for causing pain too strong. No, contrary to what Hook believed, the crew was not stupid. Foolish, yes, but stupid? No.
And then there are Hook's boys to consider. Not that Hook considers them his boys anymore, nor do they consider him their leader any longer, but in reality, they are still his boys, whether they will acknowledge it or not. The Pan-Child would probably still attempt to move the world for the man that had once acted as his father, if he thought the man was reformed. And Starkey has a slight inkling that, should the fae-child ever seek out comfort from his ex-father, Hook would probably be more than willing to provide it. They held power over one another, that much was certain. In fact, Hook probably still held more sway over those boys than even he knew. After all, he was the closest thing any of them had to a parent. And children, especially boys, need their fathers.
Plus, it really is bad form to shoot a man in his bed.
For a moment, Starkey considers pulling the trigger and ending the life of James Hook. But only for a moment. He lowers his gun and his head simultaneously, unsure of what the heavy feeling of dread that instantly settles in his chest and gut is meant to mean. He looks up again, at the sad form that lays waiting on the bed, and finds the blue eyes, the bluest eyes he's ever seen, open, just a sliver and staring at him. He lifts his chin defiantly, well accustomed to the malice, accusation and madness in those eyes, and Hook, much to the first mate's surprise, chuckles weakly. Then, he fixes the man with an almost evil smile, those mad eyes sharp and almost hungry in their gaze, and rasps one word.
"Coward."
A/N: Obviously Syfy's Neverland doesn't belong to me. It belongs to Syfy. So, yeah. I wrote a Neverland FF. And I actually quite like it. It's got Starkey in it (Because Starkey in this fandom gets nowhere near enough love) and it's just some of his thoughts on the situation a couple of days after the events of Neverland. Probably just a one-shot.