Author: Pirate Turner
Rating: R for violence, murder, and death
Summary: James has lost everything to Pan.
Warnings: Slash, Death fic
Disclaimer: Captain James Hook, Smee, Peter Pan, The Lost Boys, and Never Neverland are & TM Disney and J.M. Barrie, not the author, and are used without permission. Everything else is & TM the author. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
They were scurrying across his walls, hanging from his ceiling, and running over his very boots. James growled, his facial hair twitching, as his grip on his bottle tightened. It began to break in his hand, cutting into the paled flesh of his palms, as he downed the last swallow. He then threw it at the opponents that never let him sleep.
"Damn Lost Boys," he muttered as the insects raced out of the way of the shattering glass. "They never stop coming. Don't matter how many I make see the light or the blade. He always finds more to bewitch." He shuddered at the thought of the cruelties that were inflicted not only by their hands but, far more, by his hands.
Captain James T. Hook had once been a proud man, tall and regal, with a well-kept mustache gracing his handsome, albeit rather pointed, face. He was feared by his crew and loved by the one man who he cared about. He had riches untold and a lifetime of seafaring journeys ahead of him. The world had been his oyster, and then he had sailed into his waters.
James' facial hair shook again as his face quivered. Where once his mustache had been elegantly trimmed, it now grew wild, merging into his long beard so that, if one were to look upon him, though no one did, one would be unable to tell where the mustache ended and the beard began. The cursed boi had stolen everything he'd ever had!
From the first moment he'd met the lad, James had known the boi would be trouble, but never would he have dreamed of all the horrors he would inflict. He had transformed James into a man bent on destroying him as he had come to know of all the abuse and deaths that lay at Pan's youthful hands. However, deep down, in truth, James had only wanted to be free. He'd only wanted to be able to sail, or fly, away from Never Neverland, with Smee at his side, and never look back, never again be accosted by the menace that seemed to lurk everywhere.
The boi had cut off his hand not long after they had encountered him, but he hadn't stopped there. It was as though he spent his every waking moment devising new ways to terrorize not only James and his crew but the other inhabitants, those who refused to bow to him, no matter their innocence or the fact that they were animals only doing what animals did by nature, of the mystical land they had sailed into completely by accident.
James had fought him with everything he had at his disposal, but in the end, he had lost everything. His crew had been killed one by one, and his ship destroyed. Tears welled in James' eyes and ran down his withered, tortured face as he remembered his last fight with Pan. The accursed boi had finally driven the blow that killed James more surely than if he'd ran his sword through his own heart: he had killed his Smee and left James adrift at sea.
James had awakened on a beach back home in his mother country of Great Britain but utterly alone. No one would believe his story as he fought, at first, to find a way to chase Pan back down and avenge his beloved Smee's death. No one believed him. They had all looked at him as an addled, old fool drunk on wine, and so James had come, at last, to lock himself away.
He knew he would die here. He welcomed it, but in his last hours, remainants of Pan's party still plagued him. The cockroaches that climbed everywhere, even now converging upon the shattered glass as though they could find some trace of wine left to devour, reminded him of the Lost Boys. The fools acted with one brain, their God whatever they could find a way to eat, whereas the Never Neverland fools also acted with one brain but followed Pan around as their God instead. They would die at his hands, James knew, and so be it. They deserved no less.
He wailed as the questions that kept repeating themselves over and over again through his mind once more pounded through his aching skull. Why couldn't they have escaped sooner? Why had he let himself be lost in the battle to defeat Pan to the point he'd stopped looking for a way out? Why did he have to kill his Smee? Why hadn't he killed him?
As his cries rose to a crescendo and a scream of "SSSSSSMMMMMMMMEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!" ripped from his throat, a strange sensation shook him throughout his very boots. Then, before him, wrapped in mist, appeared a figure he'd longed to see with his every breath since Pan had stolen him away. "S-Smee?"
The shorter, rounder man appeared before him in the same clothes he'd worn for years, twisting his red cap around in his pudgy hands whose touch James ached for with a burning need. "Ca-Capt'n."
"Am I . . . ?"
"D-Does it matter?" Smee asked cautiously, looking up at him.
James realized that there was one article of clothing miss from Smee's appearance. His glasses were gone, and James could clearly see his beloved's eyes. They shone up at him with moisture glittering therein, and James knew the truth. Smee had come for him! He rejoiced gladly as he rushed into his love's waiting arms. Freedom was theirs at long last!
"I love you! I love you! I love you!" poured over and over again from James' lips as he rained kisses upon his beloved. Never again, he swore, would he waste even a second. He would always strive, with everything he had left and in every moment, to show Smee just how much he loved him. He stopped suddenly, frozen, as realization dawned. He was holding Smee -- with both hands. Tears wept from James' face as he swept Smee into a close and passionate dance across eternity.
The End