The Jolly Roger Breathes
I'm waking up to ash and dust
I wipe my brow and I sweat my rust
I'm breathing in the chemicals~~
"Welcome aboard the Jolly Roger," Hook called, his arms extended as he gestured to the grand ship. His crew clapped shortly, cheers ringing out as they continued to load supplies. Hook smirked, climbing the stairs and surveying his work.
Crew members bustled on the deck, boxes being loaded and others taken off. Threats could be heard being made to merchants on the dock – music to his ears. He watched as other pirates gambled and yet others attempted to sneak women onto the ship. Before those who tried got too far with their 'conquests', the women would chicken out. It was always entertaining to see a man suffer so.
"Cap'n," Smead timidly walked up, bowing slightly as he watched Hook carefully. Hook turned his attention to the stout man, twisting his hook idly in his hand. "There seems to be a problem."
"What do you mean, Smead?"
"I mean –"
Hook awoke with a start, his eyes snapping to the darkened wall in front of him. He was dimly aware tat he was panting, convinced that a scream had torn through his lips.
"Hook?" A knock sounded at his door and his eyes flitted to it in an uncharacteristically scared way.
"What is it?"
"You alright?"
"Yes, Emma, I am fine," He growled the words, slipping his legs over the edge of the bed. He set his feet on the ground, propping his elbows on his knees and running his only good hand anxiously through his hair.
"Right." The blonde said nothing more and Hook could hear her footsteps as she returned up to the deck. Hook stood then, grabbing his well used and treasured leather jacket, slipping it on as easily as he breathed. He'd be lying if he said living with a hook for a hand was easy – but whoever said he was an honest soul?
He pulled on his boots and took a step towards the door, stopping with his hand resting on the knob. Mila was watching him – her portrait always was. He missed her eyes… he missed her.
He opened the door, stepping out of his Captain's cabin, and leaving his past behind.
"You don't trust him, do you?" Emma stood by her mother, tightening a random rope as she studied the woman. Mary Margaret shrugged, her own eyes flitting to Hook across the ship.
"Not completely, no."
"Good."
"But," Mary Margaret continued, getting a wary glance from her daughter, "He is trying to help us, and so far has proved he can hold up a promise. He's gotten us to Neverland – that has to count for something."
"But mom –" Emma began to protest, stopping as she realized what she'd said. Mary Margaret's eyes widened, staring at her daughter a bit in shock. Emma quickly walked away before anything else could be said.
"Emma –"
"Mrs. Charming," Hook's voice interrupted her and she winced at his name for her. He smirked, taking the rope from her hands. "You're doing that entirely wrong."
"I mean, sir, that the 'crocodile' is here," Smead hissed through worried teeth. Hook's grip on his hook tightened and his glare hardened.
"What?"
"The crocodile –"
"I heard you, damn it! Why the hell did you not tell me sooner!"
"Captain, I –"
"Insolent buffoon of a man!" Hook lashed out, metal connecting with Smead's face. A fresh scratch stretched down his chin, blood smearing the metal. Hook stormed down the steps, angrily shouting harsh orders to his crew.
Most of the men were startled but rushed to obey his orders. They all clamored to escape his wrath, none too keen on staying near his hook. They all had suffered its' pain at least once – it was rumored to be an ignition, of sorts.
"Aha, Captain, you know it is pointless to run. Hahaa ~!"
