The pitter-patter of rain against the ship's hull awakens Harry from his slumber. It wasn't a thunderstorm or even heavy rain so there was nothing to really worry about, but it would make the sailing conditions slightly more difficult. While Gil and most of the crew slept, Harry thought for a moment about running to the wheel and changing course now.
He didn't even know why he was foolishly waiting, time was of the essence. Why didn't Gil get that?
The faster he sees Uma, the faster he feels whole again. Instead, he found himself trapped in his room, his fate in the hands of the crew. Harry held their fates in his father's hook that he always carried because if they refused they would no longer be trapped by their flesh.
Opening his window, Harry hesitantly stretched out his hands past its wooden frame. The icy chill of the drizzling rain fell and it reminded Harry of the late night swims on the Isle. He enjoyed feeling the contrast of coolness it brought upon the warm skin of his rough calloused hand. It reminded him of Uma, what didn't remind him of Uma at this point though?
Withdrawing his hand back, Harry shakes the water off of him, sprinkling it onto the floor. He leans against the wood of his cabin wall and stares outside at the opened window.
His mind wanders back to a forgotten memory, one he didn't like to remember at all. It starred the person, the one person he loved more than Uma, his mother.
Harry remembers her honey blonde hair and sparkling ocean blue eyes and a cheerful but hauntingly bright smile. CJ, his sister, looked exactly like her, but even as a wee babe always gravitated towards their father. Harry was the one that seemed to never want to part from their mother's side.
"Harry, are you following me?" She jokingly scolds her Scottish accent seeming thicker than usual. "Come on then my darling."
Harry's mother's eyes flickered on their surroundings, and nothing caught her eye. She felt free to finally be her real self in public. The emotional oppression of the Isle was getting to the woman. She couldn't even tell her children she loved them or even show them an ounce of affection.
She wished she could leave this Isle, take her children and go back to her homeland. Hook would never agree because if they had the option, he'd raise their three kids out at sea. Which was a terrible idea, the children belong on dry land with green grass all around, the fresh dew of morning greeting them every day.
Everything had changed in such a small time. King Beast had united all the kingdoms including the one she hailed from. Queen Merida, the strong warrior queen, had actually given up her throne insisting she was never meant to lead. Harry's mother had felt betrayed, and in protest ended up committing a crime, that well, ended up with her here.
"Mother, why do you call me darling?" Harry asks with a curious pout walking beside his mother.
"Cause you are my darling silly." She pats his head gently, and Harry beams.
"But, I'm going to be a fearsome pirate, just like father!" Harry exclaims with a glamor of confidence, "And sail the seven seas!"
"Of course you are darling," she agrees, laughing at Harry's adorable pout, "Darling, is just a word you use when you love someone."
She whispers the word love, and Harry looks at her confused. He's heard of the word, but it was never to be used. He was shocked that his mother would use the term, and in public at that!
"Love someone?" Harry repeats lowly, "Do you love me, mother?"
"Of course I do! I love you, Harriet, and CJ."
Harry grins at his mother, who smiles back. She pushes forward a little ahead of him, with Harry tittering just behind.
"I lo-"
Out of nowhere a man comes pushing Harry's mother against a hard brick wall.
"Hey! Give me your money!" A harsh deep voice demands.
Harry looks up startled in fear and sees a menacing man with a knife. His feet felt glued down, as he could do nothing but helplessly watch. Do something!
"I don't have any," she lies, "Let me go."
"You expect me to believe that?" He angrily asks, his expression reminding Harry of his father as the man guffaws." The wife of the great Captain Hook moneyless, please. Don't take me for a fool."
"Let me go, now." She begs with fury, as she struggles against him. Her knife was hidden under her dress, but with how he had her pinned against him, there was no way she could reach it.
"Money now."
She reluctantly agrees and he releases her slightly, she goes to reach for her money purse and her hand slightly wavers over her knife. She decides to abstain from a violent fight, a foolish decision that would cost her greatly. She hands the man her coin purse and hopes he releases her fully.
"Happy now?"
"No," he says an evil glint in his eye,"Tell Hook this be a thanks from a former member of his crew."
The man took the sharp knife and stabbed it in Harry's mother's abdomen. She gasps and blood gushes out as she looks at her son in fear.
"No!" Harry screamed so loud, that his voice became hoarse.
Harry. Her Harry, her beautiful little boy. She didn't want him to see this, the man turned to her son a sinister look on his face. She began to panic, she couldn't let this man hurt her boy, using all her strength she yells at her son.
"Harry! Run my darling, please!" She cries as tears start streaming from her eyes, praying her son would get away.
Harry obeyed even though he didn't want to. He ran and the man chased after him but Harry was faster. Harry had made it home screaming for his father who rushed out annoyed. His father spotted the man chasing Harry and smirked.
"Chasing my son, really?" He asks and scoffs in mock amusement.
Harry hides behind his father, and tugs on his father's coat.
"He hurt mother!"
"What did you do to my wife?" Hook roared like a lion, that just couldn't wait to be king.
"The same thing you did to my brother."
Hook's eyes narrowed in hatred and anger. He pushed Harry away and unsheathed the long sword he carried on his waist.
Hook instantly attacks with a flawless agility and easily took down the stocky man. Harry observes the whole the thing, in awe of his father's capabilities. He took a man who once oozed confidence for hurting his mother, to having him cower like the craven, he truly was. Amazing.
Hook pretends as if he was hesitating, and having a fake internal debate when the man had the nerve to beg for his wretched life.
Then he swiftly ended the man's life, a blade straight through the heart.
Hook turns back around and looks at his son who was blubbering and afraid.
"Where is your mother?" He asks the crying boy, "Tell me now!" He yells, and Harry tremors slightly in fear.
Harry rubs his eyes and begins walking to where his mother was lying probably gone by now. They reach the scene of the crime, and Captain Hook's eyes scanned the place until he catches sight of his wife clinging to dear life.
"Hook." She coughs, visible straining to speak, but she somehow manages to find the strength to continue,"Please, protect the children. Especially Harry, he's-" Her eyes roll to the back of her head, and her breathing stops.
Hook screams and picks up his dead wife. He clutches onto her body begging her to wake up. He couldn't raise three children without a mother. Harry cried as he realized his mother was never coming back.
Hook glares at the boy, "This is all your fault!" Hook blames angrily, "You always want to play your little games. You should have been learning how to protect your mother!"
"I-I'm sorry, father. I wish I could have- I didn't know," Harry's body shakes with sobs, and feels the heavy weight of guilt inside of him.
"Leave boy, I'll-I don't know what I'll do, just leave."
Harry's whole life changed then, he probably would have been a different person if his mother still lived. His relationship with his father, which was already quite strained, worsened even more after his mother's death. He became the blame for everything wrong in his father's life, and the trifling disappointment of the Hook legacy. As much as his father hated him, Hook longed for his love. Or at least, the hope his father could be proud of him. On his thirteenth birthday, he thought for a second that his father did care under his abusive unloving demeanor. His father had gifted him his old hook. A hook fit for a captain, his father joked if Harry wore the hook, he might actually consider him worthy of the Hook name. And so started Harry's obsession to lose his hand and therefore gain his father's approval. The Hook was important to him, it was the only thing that could guarantee his father's love. So Harry always made sure to protect it with his life.
Harry bangs his head gently against the wall, feeling an emotion that could only be described as grief. He missed his mother, and he hated how weak this emotion made him feel. Tears begin to stream down his face as he remembers all of the memories his mother left him with. He felt beaten down as he recalls the time he begged his father to bring his mother back. Captain Hook looked at him furiously and shrieked.
"This is all your fault, Harry!"
"My fault?" Harry asks, a pained expression washing over his face. And then the tears began to stream down his saddened face. "I'm the reason mother's dead."
Harry broke down longing for the feel of a mother to comfort him. But she was gone now, and his father would never wipe away his tears. Harry felt so weak, his father's icy blue eyes seemed filled with an even darker anger than ever before.
Harry broke out of the memory and rubs his hands down the wall of the ship. Was he really becoming his father now? Did he have the same dark haunting look in his eyes?
Harry growled and roughly punched the ship wall but managed to still be careful, for fear of causing damage to Uma's ship. Harry listened to the rain and closed his eyes. His mind was racing at top speed, thoughts, and fears throwing themselves at him.
Harry wanted all his thoughts to stop, and they only went away when he saw the sweet sight of fresh blood. Not that anyone would ever let him hook someone. Wait, I did more than that didn't I?
Harry felt bile rise to his throat, his mouth heavy with the taste of metallic acid, as he recalls what he did to a member of his crew. What he wanted to do to them all. He felt conflicted, unsure of the direction he was going in.
Callous, cruel, and murderous, all words that any villain would take in stride. But now they felt heavy, so heavy. I want this! I love this! Harry swallows the bile in his throat, and he screams out in rage.
"You're a failure Harry, the sight of you makes me sick!"
Father, father no. I'm not a failure! I can make, you proud!
Harry's throat tightens, and he hears the sound of his father's harsh slap. He looks around, and he's alone. His body feels hot, and he screams falling down to the hard wooden ground, feeling overwhelmed with pain. His body begins to feel stiff, and he feels his muscles tense. His shoulders broaden, and he clenches his fist, he feels his pupils drift to the corner of his eyes.
"You are nothing Harry, nothing!"
Stop, please, someone please just make it stop. Harry struggles to breathe and feels himself float away into a repressed memory.
"Look at you, you're pathetic!" A drunk Captain Hook yells, giving Harry a forbidding angry glare.
"I'm sorry, I really don't mean to be this way father," Harry pleads, hoping his apology would placate his father, if only for a moment.
"Stop acting like a child!" Hook bellows with a dark flaming rage, resentment in his eyes.
"Father, I am a child," Harry replies shakily, a look of confusion on his young boyish face.
Captain Hook's eyes flashed with fury, "You're a failure Harry, the sight of you makes me sick!"
"I-" Harry starts, but is swiftly cut off by his Father.
"You are nothing, Harry, nothing!" Hook interrupts angrily, stabbing his finger
Harry moves his mouth to speak again but is greeted by a sharp slap that echoes loudly throughout the empty room.
Young Harry fell to the ground, the unexpected blow his father delivered left his face hot and pulsing.
"Your mother's not here to protect her useless mistake anymore," Captain Hook spats his words out like venom, and Harry recoils in shock.
Harry looked at his father with a hurt expression on his face. His father had always threatened him, but this was the first time that he ever actually laid his hands on him. Harry felt alone, and no one was there to protect him. No one.
His father raised his hand again, and Harry closed his eyes preparing for another blow. But there wasn't one because when Harry reluctantly opened his eyes, the only thing there to greet him was the crippling feeling of loneliness and his cabin door. His body still felt locked up, but his breathing seemed to ease. It's not real. I'm here, I'm no longer a child.
Harry cursed under his breath and tried to get up from the floor. His body felt overworked and weakened still, so he ended up stuck laying on the cold wooden floor. The sound of rain seemed louder, even though it wasn't heavy at all.
Harry roughly rubbed his eyes, and then found himself stroking his hair, feeling a strong sense of defeat. He couldn't let whatever that was, happen to him again.
He had to be the epitome of strength, a guiding light to the darkness he felt inside. He could not be weak, especially with Uma gone.
Harry wished he could fast forward time, so he could finally set sail and be on his way to Uma. But no, he had to wait, a whole day. One whole day. And he couldn't even leave his room, so he found himself trapped here alone with his ever so depressing thoughts.
Sure, just a couple of days ago he had locked himself in his room. And time seemed to pass by so quickly, but it was easy when you had no concept of it. Now, even though, Harry couldn't count or tell time himself, he felt every second, every minute, and every hour. His mother had always intended to teach him to count, but with her tragic early end, it never came to fruition.
Harry stares up at the ceiling and brings his hand to his cheek. There was no pulsing of pain, but still, he felt startling remnants of the horrifying memory remained.
Harry wished he could hear Uma's voice, it always calmed him whenever he had moments like this. Uma was the eye of his destructive storm, and with her gone only rage seemed to be blistering inside. No, not just rage, pain.
After his mother died, the inner battle inside of Harry was born while the innocence and dreams of his childhood decayed. His heart darkened, with every hit of his father's hand, and still, he found himself longing for his father's approval.
Harry grew to enjoy the pain of others, the more pain he caused, the more sadistic pleasure he felt inside. But there was always something holding him back, well someone. Uma didn't want him to lose himself in the perverted pleasure of enjoying the pain of another. Said, if he ever did, he'd become just like his father. Harry wondered, was that a bad thing?
His father was ruthless, but he was feared and no one could come against him. Harry was weak with guilt that was eating him up inside, and remorse for his foolish actions. He hated these brief moments of clarity, he just wanted to go back into the rage, into the flaming river of fury.
He closed his eyes, and Uma's face is what he sees. He reaches out his hand but feels nothing, and he cries waiting for his tears to turn him numb. The mind is a cruel thing, Harry thinks to himself as he realizes there was no way, he could last a day in the solitude of his own mind.
How much time had even passed? It seemed like Gil, had just left his room. Deciding to distract himself a little longer, Harry recalls a memory from his childhood, his shirt was ripped from overuse. And a shiny purple bruise laid upon his face, he was 10 and found himself running to the only place, no person he found safe. He arrived at Ursula's Fish and Chip Shop, and his shoulders dropped in relief as he pushed open the swinging doors.
His eyes searched the shop looking for his best friend, Uma. All he wanted to do was run towards his friend Uma, and have her comfort him. He finally caught sight of her and watched as she placed a tray on the table harshly, her long box braids that cascaded down her back, swung in her huff. Almost as if she detected his presence, she looked towards the door, her smile beaming when she saw it was Harry. But her face fell at the sight of the bruise on his eye.
"Go in the back."
Harry nods and walks towards the back of the shop. He waits, and Uma comes minutes later, concern in her eyes.
"I wish, I could give your father a piece of my mind," Uma says handing Harry, a cold fish wrapped in a thin towel.
Harry smiles and places the towel on his tender face. "It was my fault, I wasn't fast enough."
"It's never your fault Harry, we're just kids," Uma says earnestly, an unusual softness appears in her hardened eyes.
Her face suddenly twists up in frustration as she recalls how those spoiled brats in Auradon lived. Their parents actually loved them, and they didn't live with the fear of death knocking on their door at their first slip up. Uma felt disgusted by the very thought of them. Life really isn't fair.
"Father says I need to grow up soon, be a man."
"You're fine the way you are," Uma assures in a soothing tone and places a stray braid behind her ear. "I don't know why you need his approval."
Uma had stopped caring about how her Mother felt years ago, or so she told Harry. But still, her mother's insensitive and hurtful comments affected her deeply. It didn't help that Mal harassed her every chance she got. Sometimes, Uma felt like she had fallen off a precipice and was now clutching dearly for dear life. She would never tell Harry, but she always imagined him pulling her up. And all the terror she once felt shed and instead, she felt the thrill of exhilaration.
She knew Harry and her were so much more than this Isle. Everyone saw their futures as bleak, wondering how two 'weaklings' had lasted this long. But they've proven everyone wrong, and they strived. She wasn't going to let Harry's self-doubt knock them back to square one.
"He's my father," Harry emphasizes, and Uma just rolls her eyes.
"I'm tired of all of this Harry, I wish we could run away." Uma places her arms across her chest and looks down at her feet.
"D-Did she hurt you again too?"
Uma reluctantly pulls up her sleeve revealing a tentacle printed bruise on her arm. "I dodged, but I took a small hit."
She watches as Harry's face fell, and she found herself feeling a little annoyed for some reason.
"Uma-,"
"What? You're sorry, I don't need pity, Harry." Uma comments brusquely, and Harry holds one hand up in defeat.
"I'm not pitying you," Harry assures, and gives Uma a look of adoration, "I would never."
"Good, because I'm not pitying you either," Uma pulls her sleeve down, and glared at Harry defiantly, "We aren't going to be victims anymore Harry, we'll show them all."
"How? We may be the best in all the pirating classes, but I come short everywhere else. I'll just hold you back."
"Please, you're Harry Hook, you are dangerous, there is no one like you," Uma states in a sassy manner, emphatically gesturing with her hands.
Harry's eyes glittered with happiness but suddenly fell flat as the feelings of depression and defeat knock on the door of his mind.
"Harriet," Harry answers, "She's so much better than me at everything."
Useless, those were the words Harry heard every day, especially in comparison to his sisters. Even his younger sister was better than him at sword fighting now. Harry was too emotional, a burning untamed fire in his eye. Tactically wasn't exactly his specialty, scaring people, however.
"Your older sister? That daddy's girl doesn't go through half of what you experience, and your sword skill is so much more superior!" Uma reminds Harry, trying to build up his confidence but it ended up failing miserably.
Superior? Compared to the exceptional Harriet Hook? Harry wished! He trained every day with Uma, another person he was incapable of defeating. Not that he minded, Uma was a worthy opponent. But still, Harry always came up short. Sometimes, he wondered if he was even capable of the pirate life. Even though he was still young, a desolate life waiting ahead of him. Part of him was ready to give up on it all.
"But, I'm not Captain material, Uma," Harry remarks gloomily, remembering all his naysayers, and replaying all of his failures that he stored in his memory.
"So? I'll be Captain then, and you can be my first mate," Uma declares with certainty, as she lifts her chin up in confidence.
"What? Why am I first mate?"
"You're the one that said you couldn't handle being a Captain," Uma quips nonchalantly looking at her polished nails and fakes a long dramatic sigh.
"I didn't." He did.
"Then shut up, the only person that has the final say is you. Don't listen to them, Harry."
"I-I don't know, everyone always makes fun of me," Harry doubts, "What if I'm just not capable of it Uma?"
"They make fun of me too," Uma says, "We shouldn't let them faze us, not anymore."
"I know, but you're smart Uma, and pretty, and-"
"Harry the way you see me, this Isle doesn't see me that way, and the way I see you, no one would ever understand. But we don't need them to."
"We don't?"
"Yeah, we don't." Uma gives Harry a small smile, and Harry returns it briefly before another negative thought is shout inside his head.
"I can't even count, Uma," Harry negatively expresses, trying to convince Uma that there was no way he could come up and escape from the drowning burdens that are his flaws.
Uma shakes her head in annoyance, tired of Harry's pity party; she dismissively waves her hand continuing her Pro-Harry tirade, "So, what? There's only one number you need to know, one. And that's because as my first mate, you'll be the only one I see."
"I-" Harry blushes, and then gives Uma a lopsided grin,"But, we need to talk about this whole me being first mate idea, I was meant to be Captain, you know."
"Keep telling yourself that, Harry," Uma replies with a sly grin, a hint of amusement in her voice. She twirls one of her long braids in between her fingers, and Harry watches her feeling hypnotized.
The memory faded away, and Harry felt at ease. He gathers his strength and pushes himself up from the floor.
Screw the rules of our agreement, I'm going to Auradon, getting that potion, and then I'm going to Atlantica and bringing Uma home, with me, where she belongs. He goes to his door and tries to open it, but it's locked. Gil!
How did he get the key? Harry felt around his pants pocket and laughed when he realized it was empty. He actually trapped me in here, I can't believe he doesn't trust me. Harry thinks as if he didn't just try to escape and ruin the whole deal.
Harry leans against the door, and smiles, he'll wait, for now. His patience was running thin, and his mind was getting louder. Harry wonders if the Harry, Gil opens the door for tomorrow will be the same Harry he left trapped in here. Well to wait and see.
Harry whistles, as he walks to his desk, how long could he pull the strings of his already barely there sanity till Gil gets back? Or should he let them go, and finally submit himself wholly to it. Harry heard his watch tick, a sound he's mostly ignored for the pleasurable sound of rain. Hmm, he thinks to himself as he picks up the watch. Only time will tell, and let's hope for Gil's sake, it doesn't tell that much.
Somewhere on the ship Gil, awoken out of his sleep. He had a strange feeling, that he didn't have a day anymore. He had to convince the crew and quickly because he feared that Harry would do something, that would cause Gil to lose him forever. And Gil couldn't live in a world without Uma and Harry. No, he couldn't live in a world without them at all.
A.N. I hope I portrayed Harry's regression well. For some, it's like you're there but not there, and you feel like you're in two different places. For Harry, I felt like it would make sense if kind of dazed out of reality and felt trapped in a memory, that he couldn't decipher if what was happening to him was real-time or not. I'm not going to graphically portray anything btw, this story is strictly T, so it will be glossed over only. Also not Descendants 2 related but I played Life is Strange: Before The Storm. And the writing is so good! Like, I've played it twice already, and I'm just like in love with it. Shout out to my bestie/editor helper/lover of screaming that is mahogany on a detention slip/ platonic soulmate Timothy! This wouldn't have been finished if it wasn't for him. Honestly, none of my stories would have ever been written if it wasn't for his encouragement. Love ya, platonically buddy! Anyway, next chapter we finally found out the crew's decision and may be off to Auradon. Sorry, this is kind of a filler but I just really wanted to write about Harry's mom. Which ironically stumped me for almost a month. Bright side, I have a lot of scenes planned for the next chapter, just got to write it. Until next time!~