Disclaimer: Only the plot and any original characters belong to me.
It was a warm night and he could feel the breeze as he stood on the deck of the Jolly Roger and looked out at the ocean. It was also silent, leaving him nothing to think about but his own thoughts. About Milah, and the Crocodile. And how he would avenge her and get him someday. He just had to find the right time. The right opportunity.
"Don't you think you should be getting some rest, Captain?" Smee asked as he came up behind him. "We don't want you half asleep at the helm. That wouldn't bode well for any of us."
Killian Jones turned to stare at the man who was his first mate. "Aye," he sighed. "I suppose you're right. I suppose some sleep would do me good."
"All right, Captain," Smee nodded. "I'll keep watch over things here. Don't you worry."
Killian just nodded and headed to bed, but it seemed like his eyes had only been closed a moment when cries from the crew sent him bolting upright and hitting his head on the ceiling. They were being attacked by Pan's men, Smee said. And if he wanted to come out of this alive, he should save himself.
But of course he wasn't going to back down. This ship was his home, and everyone in it was his loyal shipmates. He wouldn't let them down.
They fought a valiant battle, but as he attempted to save one of his men, Killian was stabbed and then fell overboard into the swirling dark ocean, and by the time the battle was over, he was nowhere to be seen.
"What it is, George?" Asked Mary Darling as her husband roused her in the middle of the night. "Did you have another one of your bad dreams again? The usual one about drowning in the ocean?"
Her husband took her hand as she looked into his blue eyes and pushed some of his dark hair off his forehead. "Yes, but it's nothing you need to worry about, Mary, dear," he said, taking her hand and admiring the pearl ring she wore on her finger. "I'm sorry for waking you over nothing but a bad dream. Sleep well."
"You too," Mary replied and kissed him good night before settling back down, her arms around him. Dreams like this were not uncommon for her poor George. Especially recently, not a night had gone by where he hadn't roused her because he'd been troubled by visions of being sucked under freezing water, unable to breathe. It was because of a bad experience in military service, he'd told her, and he'd tried his best to make the dreams go away, but had so far been unsuccessful.
"Maybe your business trip will make you feel better," Mary suggested. "A change of scenery might do you some good."
"I hope you're right," he told her. "I really do."
The next morning, despite the fact that he'd managed some shut eye, his children noticed that he hadn't had a good night.
"More bad dreams again, Father?" His daughter Wendy asked.
His son Michael came around and handed him a stuffed bear. "You can sleep with this," he offered. "It always helps me."
"Thank you, son," his father told him and tousled his hair. "And yes, Wendy, I did have another bad night, but it's nothing new. I'll have it sorted out soon."
"I might be able to find something in a book that could help you," his son John offered. "I have books that tell me all sorts of things."
"I know you do," George grinned. "And I thank you children for your concern. It…it's really very touching. Now, why don't we use what little time we have before I have to leave to talk about something pleasant? Who has something pleasant to talk about while we eat our breakfast?"
With Wendy taking the lead, they engaged in light chatter until her father finished his breakfast, put his fork down, and after hugging everyone, announced that it was time for him to go.
"Will you be gone long?" Michael asked as everyone walked him to the door.
"No longer than usual," he assured him. "I promise." He went out to the hansom cab that would take him to the train station that would get him to where he was working. But as he looked out the window, he noticed that they were going the wrong way: down to the docks, which was some place he never went for business.
"Driver?" He asked as he reached out of the cab and banged on the side to get the man's attention. "Where are we going? This isn't the right way!"
The cab stopped and the driver got down and came to climb in with him. "It is, Captain," he insisted. "Should I call you Captain, or do you need me to introduce myself because you don't remember me?"
He wore an ill-fitting brown suit and no red cap, but there was no mistaking who this man was. "Smee?" Killian asked. "What are you doing? Why are you kidnapping me? And I have to say, those clothes don't fit you at all."
"Nor the clothes of the common man on you, Captain," Smee replied. "Which is why I'm taking you home where you belong. The rest of the crew will be very relieved to know that you're still alive after so many years of us not hearing a word. We thought you were drowned and dragged down to the bottom for sure."
"Well as you can see, Mr. Smee, I'm very much alive," Killian told him. "And after having a legitimate job, a wife, and a family, there is nothing that could bring me back into my old ways. Nothing at all."
"Not even a rumor that a boy escaped Pan?" Smee asked. "And that it could very well be his son…as well as hers? Don't tell me that you've completely given up your quest to avenge her?"
"Oh, no, Smee," Killian shook his head as he decided to resume using his real name and title, at least around Smee and the crew. "I will never give up on avenging Milah. I will not. Killian Jones will not forget that, ever."
"Well, all right, that's good," Smee nodded. "Now may we continue on to the ship?"
"Yes," Killian nodded. "But we don't have long. I'm supposed to be on a business trip and I don't quite know how I'll explain it if my family finds me like this."
"It won't be a problem," Smee assured him. "Just tell us what needs to be done and we'll see if we can do it speedily."
"Excellent," Killian smiled. "That's just what I want to hear."
As Smee had said, the crew was very pleased to see their captain return. And after he'd changed into his usual wardrobe, Killian demanded to know if what Smee had told him about the Dark One's son being sighted nearby after escaping from Neverland was true.
"Have you seen him with your own eyes?" Killian wanted to know. "Or is it just a rumor?"
"It's still a rumor," Smee replied. "But I have no doubt we'll see if it's true or not soon enough."
And for the next several days, they lurked in the water near Neverland, hoping to catch sight of the boy and maybe bring him aboard, but they saw nothing. But the sight of Lost Boys skulking around and seeming like they were looking for something (or someone) gave Killian hope that they were not just chasing after nothing. Eventually, he told Smee that he had to take him back to the London docks.
"Are you sure, Captain?" Smee wanted to know. "If you were to stay, I'm sure no one would mind. And we've almost got him. I can feel it!"
"Aye," Killian nodded. "I have no doubt we do, Smee. But…but I have a wife and children now who know nothing about my…other activities, and I want them to find out when I'm ready. That isn't now. Do you understand? If you find the boy, send me a note and I'll come to you. Do you understand?"
"Yes," Smee nodded. "And when I contact you, what should I call you?"
"George," Killian told him. "George Darling. Write that down so you don't forget it. It's very important."
"Yes, Captain," Smee nodded as Killian got off the ship. "And don't worry. We'll keep a close eye out for the boy. That's for sure."
The night after her father returned home, Wendy was awakened by noises coming from nearby and soon after, her brothers were as well.
"Should I go see who it is?" John volunteered. "I remember that Mother said Father isn't to be disturbed."
"I'll go," Wendy told him. "You boys stay here." She got out of bed, put on a robe and then followed the noise to the kitchen where a boy in a cap and raggedy clothes was tearing apart loaves of bread and shoveling the pieces into his mouth. When he saw her, his eyes widened, he swallowed, and then ran to the door, mumbling apologies.
"It's all right," she said, taking up some of the bread and holding it out to him as if she were trying to attract a frightened deer. "If…if you're hungry, you can have as much as you want."
"I couldn't," he shook his head, his deep brown, honest eyes finally meeting hers as his cheeks flushed a light pink with embarrassment. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come in here."
"Please stay," Wendy begged. "What's your name?"
"Baelfire," the boy told her after a long silence as he grabbed another hunk of bread. "But…but you can call me Bae if it's easier."
"All right, Bae," Wendy nodded, her eyes brightening. "If you don't have food to eat, you probably don't have a place to sleep, either. You can stay in our nursery for now."
"Are you sure?" Bae asked. "I wouldn't want to intrude any more than I already have."
"You wouldn't be," Wendy assured him as she led him to the nursery and introduced him to her brothers. "It would be our pleasure to have you."
The next morning, she sneaked Bae some breakfast, and then she and the boys brought up the subject of Baelfire to their parents.
"I know I probably shouldn't have let someone we didn't know into the house, but I couldn't help myself," she said. "He's so nice, and he was so hungry. We can't let him go back out onto the street. We just can't!"
"Let's see him," her father requested. "If he's as good as you say, I suppose we could find room for him."
A few minutes later, a nervous Baelfire came out with his hand in Wendy's. "This is him," she said and urged Bae to look her father in the eye. "This is Bae."
"Hello, Bae," George told him, trying to be as gentle as possible because he really didn't seem like a typical raucous street urchin. "How are you?"
"Much better than I have been, thank you," Bae replied. "It was so nice to sleep with a roof over my head. I-I won't abuse your hospitality any more, though."
"Where will you go after you leave here?" George asked. "Do you have parents that you live with? They must be worried about you."
"I'm sure they would be," Bae nodded and swallowed. "But…but my father abandoned me, sir. And my mother is dead."
"Well, that settles it, then," George told him, the name 'Bae' being very familiar. "You'll stay here with us. You wouldn't mind sharing the nursery, would you?"
"No, sir," Bae shook his head. "That would be just fine, thank you."
Later that day when the rest of his family was otherwise occupied, Killian met Smee at a nearby pub and told him the news.
"You found the boy?" Smee asked in amazement. "That was awfully quick, Captain. How did you do it?"
"It was a very fortunate coincidence, Smee," Killian replied. "He happened to come right to me. I didn't have to look for him at all."
"What are we going to do with him now that you have him?" Smee asked. "Keep him with us? Hold him captive until we get the Dark One's attention, kill the Dark One, and then the boy?"
"We don't kill the boy, Smee," Killian said firmly. "I may have wanted his father dead for years, but he's still his mother's son and if Milah were here, she wouldn't want me to kill him, so I won't. And neither will anyone else on the crew. Once he's served his purpose, he'll join us. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Captain," Smee nodded. "I understand perfectly."
Killian was so used to only talking about himself around Smee that the night the pirates came to get Bae, he forgot to tell them to leave Mary and the children be. Just like before, it was the children who heard the noises and went to investigate and were immediately tied up. Then when their parents came out to investigate the noise, one of the pirates pulled out his pistol and shot Mary through the heart. Just as had been the case with Milah, Killian had to watch yet another woman he loved die in his arms. Just as had happened before, the man who had been good, the man who had been law-abiding, died with the woman in his arms. George Darling was no more. He placed Mary's body on the sofa, strode over the man who'd shot her, killed him, and then looked at his children and Baelfire, who were staring at him in shock.
"Father?" Wendy finally managed to choke out. "Father, what's going on? Why are you doing this?"
"Your mother is dead, Wendy," Killian told her, trying to be calm and not frighten her more, if that was possible. "Your mother is dead. I cannot let that stand. Just like I couldn't with Baelfire's mother."
"What?" Bae asked, his eyes wide with shock. "You knew my mother? But you're a cruel, heartless pirate! They only care about themselves! You couldn't have loved her! You probably kidnapped her, took her against her will."
"Aye, lad," Killian nodded. "I did love your mother, regardless of what you might think. But I can't talk about it here. Let's go out to the ship and we'll talk there." He carried Mary's body out to the ship and after she'd gotten a proper sea burial, Killian explained, knowing that the boy probably wouldn't believe a word of what he said, given his feelings about pirates.
"I met your mother at the tavern by your house," he said. "She would have drinks with me and my men and tell me stories about her husband and how miserable her life with him was. How she wished to see the world and everything it had to offer."
"You didn't kill her?" Baelfire asked. "That's what my father always told me."
"Your father lied to cover up his own wrongs against your mother," Killian told him. "Your father was your mother's murderer, not me. I mourned her, just as you would have."
"You took her away knowing that she had a child to care for?" Bae asked, his eyes narrowing. "How could you?"
"She reasoned that your father would do a better job of taking care of you than she would," Killian told him. "And she always meant to come back for you, when you were older. When you were old enough to care for yourself reasonably well and could be a part of our adventures."
"But my father killed her before that could happen," Bae said. "Is that what you're telling me?"
"Yes," Killian nodded and put a hand on his shoulder. "Whether you believe it or not, that's what happened."
Bae sat down and said, "I don't want to believe it, but given the way my father acted before he left me, it's not much of a surprise."
"I'm so sorry you had to hear, that, truly," Killian apologized. Then he turned to his three children, who stared at him, understandably shell-shocked.
"Captain Hook!" John whispered at last, his look of shock turning to awe, as his siblings wore similar expressions and he took off his glasses to clean them. "Those stories you told us, father! About Peter Pan and Captain Hook! They…they were true, weren't they?"
"Did you really lose a hand to a crocodile, Father?" Wendy added.
"It wasn't a crocodile," Killian told her. "It was a man, if you could call him that, who looked like one."
"My father," Bae added. "Rumplestiltskin."
Killian knew what the boy would say if he asked him to do what he'd planned, but he thought he would say something anyway. "Would you…would you call your father here so that I can avenge your mother?" He asked.
"When you say 'avenge' my mother, you mean kill my father, right?" Bae asked. "Because I won't be used like that. What my father did was wrong, but that doesn't mean you can kill him. And if you try, I'll leave."
"Where else would you go if you were to leave?" Killian wanted to know.
"I don't know, but I'd find a place," Bae told him. "I don't want to, but I will if you begin murdering people."
"And I assume you'll go with him?" Killian asked his children.
"Yes, Father," Wendy nodded. "If Bae goes, then we go."
"All right," Killian nodded. "I promise not to kill unless I absolutely need to. So…are you all ready for an adventure?"
"Can we meet Peter Pan?" John asked eagerly.
"Not if I can help it," Killian replied dryly. "But I have no doubt that at some point, we will and you'll wish he was only a character in a bedtime story." He asked Smee for his hook and his children looked at one another eagerly. They were traveling on the Jolly Roger with Captain Hook. For real. And eventually, on their way to Neverland.
The End