A Shot Across the Bow
Summary:
Run a shot across the bow - warning shot to another vessel
After Belle and Rumpelstiltskin leave the Jolly Roger, Someone comes to visit Captain Hook. Set during the events of The Outsider.
The sun's bleeding red and orange over the horizon before he finally drags his battered body below deck.
Heaving himself up by his good hand- curse that damned Crocodile to the depths of hell and back!- Hook staggers toward the Captain's quarters. Collapsing onto his bunk, he blindly fumbles for the small bottle safely tucked in his left breast pocket. At least the bleeding wanker of a wizard hadn't managed to break that. Uncorking the bottle proved to be an even more difficult task than usual, until at last the captain managed the to pop the bloody thing open and take his first, hard-earned swallow. Hook hissed at the alcohol ran down and stung the various cuts decorating his face. Taking another swing, the pirate sank back, closed his eyes and sighed. Just a little bit to take the edge off, that's the ticket.
"Well well Captain! It looks like there's been a bit of a brawl here. Not on my account I hope?"
It's exactly the last- well, second to last- person in all the realms he wants to see right now. Keeping his eyes firmly shut, Hook lazily waves his good hand about. "Lovely as you are my dear Cora, I can assure you this bout had nothing to do with your presence in Storybrooke," And here Hook opens his eyes to smirk at the older women, standing with her elegant silks and pearls in the middle of pirate's quarters as easily as she stood in a king's court. "Just had a bit of a reunion with an old friend."
"Oh," Cora tilts her head, twirling that shagging umbrella of hers, feigning sympathy. "You went after your Crocodile didn't you? And after I specifically told you to wait."
Hook hears the thinly veiled iron under the sorceresses' patronizing words. And abruptly decides he doesn't care. He's been beaten bloody, his damned ribs are sure to be cracked, and the roaring anger that carried him through his confrontation with Rumpelstiltskin has given way to an empty, hollow ache. Milah's murderer has escaped with his new bird and the boy's shawl to boot. (He won't, he won't think about Bae- he won't.) Cora can do what she damn well pleases. He doesn't have anything left to loose.
"Well love, you were taking far too long," he drawls insolently, lounging. He grins at Cora's tightened lips and takes another burning swig of rum. "The Dark One killed my love. He doesn't deserve to live another bloody day. And I will have my revenge with or without your help."
The sorceresses narrows her eyes at him and suddenly Hook feels like a mouse being sized up by a cat. Just a quickly Cora relaxes, and says with a smile, "And you're perfectly right of course. I should have told you about my plans. Please. Let me make up for the oversight." And with a regal wave of her hand, a large bottle of amber liquid materializes.
It's Hook's turn to narrow his eyes. "What the bloody hell is that?"
If Cora wasn't…well, Cora, Hook was fairly certain she's be rolling her eyes. "It's something a great deal better than the swill you're accustomed to drinking my dear Captain," She mummers, smiling. "Won't you have a glass? You look a bit…worn if you don't mind me saying so. And I will tell you how to obtain your revenge."
Hook doesn't have a very good feeling about this. But his ribs do ache. And he has absolutely no idea how he is going to manage to defeat the Dark One with magic. Forcing a smirk, Hook spreads his bruised arms wide. "You know me, love. Always up for a drink, me."
….
Hook feels wonderful!
The golden rum Cora had conjured was most definitely better than his usual fare. It went down with a glorious, smoky burn. Hook sprawls back on his bunk, the mostly empty bottle in hand grinning at his companion still perched serenely in her seat. "This," he declares, waving the jug about, "Is the best rum I've had the pleasure of drinking my dear, dear Cora," Hook clumsily leans forward, leering. "To say nothing of the company that comes with it."
Cora merely lifts an elegant eyebrow as Hook collapses backward, taking another pull straight from the bottle. He no longer feels either the bruises from his beat down nor from Milah's loss, only a delightful warm haze from the alcohol. Good gods, he three sheets to the wind and make no mistake. Milah always gave him hell when he staggered home, utterly pissed from a night in whatever port they happened to be docked at, rolling her eyes and dumping his ass in bed saying she should rightly ought to leave him passed out cold on the deck. Full of piss and wind that women. He always woke with the curtains tightly closed and a bottle of water ready at his bunk. She took care of him. They were supposed to take care of each other but…
"I'm so glad you're enjoying it, Captain," Cora's husky voice breaks into Hook's train of thought. Blearily, Hook stares at her. Cora smiles. "The rum."
Falling back, Hook nods. "Aye, it's good that…very good."
"But you wanted to hear my about my plans, didn't you, Captain?" Hook's eyes fly open at the creak and dip of his bunk. Cora sits beside him, her face peering fuzzily down at his. Did he? Yes. Plans. He needed to know Cora's plan to…to…kill Rumpelstiltskin. Rumpelstiltskin. Gods, what manner of idiot names a child bleeding Rumpelstiltskin? No wonder the man grew up to be a bloody, raving lunatic.
"Captain!" Cora's sharp tone drags him back to the present. Clutching his bottle close, Hook nods. "Yes. Tell me. Tell me how to…skin myself a…Rumpelstiltskin, then."
Cora leans forward staring intensely at him. "Rumpelstiltskin needed to shawl because he is leaving Storybrooke tonight," She whispers. "He wants to find his son."
Hook struggles to process what Cora is telling him. "But if he leaves town…how can I kill him?"
Cora huffs impatiently, the most emotion he's seen from her. "Once he crosses the town line…once he leaves Storybrooke…he won't have magic anymore. He's be defenseless. Powerless"
A defenseless Dark One. Hook's mind sloshes over that. A slobby grin slowly spreads over his face. "I'll show that damn Crocodile what a beating really looks like," he mutters struggling to drag himself up.
"No." With a burst of magic, Cora pushes him down onto his bunk. Before he can come up with an appropriate glib comment about her efforts in bed, Cora grasps his chin in hers and looks him deep in the eyes. "No, you don't get you revenge by just killing him. No. What you need Captain is…a shot across the bow."
Cora tilts her head, looking into Hook's stunned eyes, then chuckles softly. "I know a thing or two about pirates Captain," Her eyes go flat and hard and distant, "And I know a great deal more about vengeance. The Dark One can't just die. He must remain alive…but only for now," The self-proclaimed queen leans even closer, their breaths practically mingling. "The only way to obtain true vengeance on Rumpelstiltskin… is by doing to him what he did to you."
She bends closer still. "Take away what he loves best," She hisses in her ear. "Take away his love. Take away his Belle."
Cora leans back, dark eyes burning. "And then my dear Captain, you will have your revenge."
Hook lies still, breathing hard. The world is tilting dangerously, Cora is no longer smiling, the alcohol is no longer comforting, and vengeance is within his grasp.
He's just not sure what exactly he's reaching for anymore.
"I…I…I don't know if I can…get there…" he whispers.
"No. Don't think. I'll take you there." Cora soothes, eyes both hollow and full of fire.
Dark magic whirls about him. Suddenly he's upright, clutching dizzily at Cora as the cold night air whips around him. The world tilts and he's not sure if he can stand straight yet.
"Oh Belle I so wish you were coming with me."
Whipping his head about at the sound of his enemies' voice, Hook struggles to focus on the figures ahead of them. The crocodile and his bird are standing at the town line clutching their hands together as he and Cora watch on. "Do you hear them?" Cora hisses in his ear. "Do you hear their words of devotion? Of love?" Her laugh is colder than the night air. "Did you and your love whisper the same things to each other before he killed her?" Nails bite into his shoulder.
Fiery rage rips through him as he watches the Crocodile soak up love and commitment and intimacy- what he had stolen from him. Blindly he reaches for the gun being pressed into his good hand- missing the burning triumph stealing over Cora's face- and staggers forward toward his revenge.
Rumpelstiltskin is about to receive his last warning shot.