Back to an 'M' rating, again for bad language and strong violence and several intense scenes. Again I'll remind you if you're looking for slash you'll not find it and please review.

Chapter 8

On Board the Jolly Roger

Edward jerked awake and found himself sitting bolt upright in his couch-bed, gasping for air. He wiped the sweat from his brow and looked at his shaking hands. He was sure he'd been having a nightmare though he couldn't remember any of the details clearly, only that it had left him feeling extremely disturbed - something about a long hallway, fluorescent lights, pain… he shuddered the thoughts away.

His eye's darted about the moonlit cabin to see if something else had startled him awake but everything seemed as it should be. The only sounds he could hear were waves lapping at the sides of the ship and the frequent creaks of wood rubbing on wood. Edward rubbed his eyes and eased from his bed and stretched. The floor was almost completely covered with plush, ornately embroidered rugs but the cold, bare planks his feet did encounter sent their soles cringing upwards.

Edward tip-toed over to the windows at the back of the cabin, pausing to glance at Captain Hook, sleeping soundly in his bed, his back towards the room. He felt the corners of his mouth flick upwards in a fleeting but satisfied smile. If this was a dream, he hoped he might never wake up from it.

He stared out at the glassy sea and to the island beyond. The moon was full and so bright he could see almost as well as if it were mid-day instead of the wee hours of the morning. He mentally noted that he was going to have to learn how to tell time by the position of the sun and the moon, as Hook had an acute aversion to clocks. "Naturally," he mused under his breath.

The slight chill on the air made his bare arms break out in goose bumps and Edward was thankful to be wearing his long-johns. He yawned and reached under his t-shirt to scratch his chest and belly, and contemplated going back to bed. He was busily scratching a stubborn itch that cropped up behind his balls when he noticed something in the distance gliding over the smooth surface of the water - several somethings actually. Whatever they were, they were quite a ways off so Edward quickly retrieved his daypack from under the couch and fished out his binoculars. He slipped on his socks to keep his feet from freezing and padded back to the window, focusing the glasses on the slowly approaching objects.

"Holy shit," he breathed. He counted at least a dozen canoes on the water heading towards the Jolly Roger, and each canoe carried two to four warriors. He cut his eyes towards the sleeping pirate.

"Sir!" Edward called; the Captain didn't stir at all, so Edward grabbed at Hook's right shoulder and shook the man. "Sir!" he called again. Hook's eyes snapped open and he seized Edward by the throat with his left hand before he was full awake.

Edward froze in place. "Sir, " he wheezed. "Come quick, danger!"

Hook quickly released his guest. "Don't ever do that again!" he snapped. "I could have killed you had I been wearing…" It suddenly dawned on him what Edward had said. "Danger?" he echoed. "What sort of…"

"Canoes," Edward said, a little hoarse. "Lots of 'em. Loaded down with warriors."

Hook sprang from his bed, almost knocking Edward down in the process, and bolted to the windows. "Where?" he demanded.

"Coming past those rocks, way back." Edward handed him the binoculars and pointed in the general direction. It was about then that he noticed that Hook was stark naked; obviously the man slept in the raw. He quickly focused his attention back on the windows, watching Hook's facial expressions go from doubt to grave concern.

"Bloody hell!" Hook swore under his breath. He looked over at Edward. "Listen to me carefully, lad, and do exactly as I say."

"Yes sir," Edward nodded.

"Go find the watchman on deck. I believe it's Mike. But mind you don't make a sound," Hook instructed. "Tell him to go below and rouse Mr. Smee and the crew but maintain as much silence as possible. We don't want those redskins to know we're on to them. Then you come back here."

"Yes sir," Edward scurried towards the door.

"And Edward," Hook said, "Be sure he tells them the man who gives us away is mine."

"Yes sir," Edward snapped the Captain his best salute. "Will do." He hurried out to find Bloody Mike, cursing under his breath that he hadn't slept in his clothes. He returned to the cabin moments later to find Hook already in his trousers and struggling with his harness.

"Can I help you, sir?" he asked, pulling on his camouflage trousers.

Hook glared at him for a moment. "I am not helpless, lad."

Edward felt himself cringe and chastised himself mentally for it. "I know," he said sheepishly. "I just thought with those indians heading this way…" he finished fastening the buttons on his own trousers and pulled his boots on.

Hook bit his lip and nodded. "You're right." Edward scurried over to help and Hook reached his left arm behind his back searching for the harness's sleeve. "I don't mean to be so severe lad," Hook grunted as he ratcheted the harness tightly onto his right arm, " but I will not tolerate pity."

"I understand," Edward said, holding Hook's shirt at the ready. "I'm a bit jumpy anyway."

"Oh?" Hook buttoned the shirt quite skillfully with only one hand while Edward fetched his boots.

"Yes sir," Edward squatted down to tie his own boots, then went to help Hook buckle his. "Bad dream woke me up - it happens sometimes. I told you about that the other day."

Hook looked down at Edward, efficiently fastening each one of the buckles that generally flustered the Captain into a rage. The boy had a benevolence about him that totally disarmed Hook's usual brusque responses and the Captain found himself accepting Edward's help where he would have normally driven anyone else away from him. It was an odd sort of closeness he felt to the boy, one he couldn't quite pin down. The boy seemed to arouse almost paternal feelings in him, and considering he had no personal experience with fatherhood, Hook found this most peculiar. His hand had just come to rest gently atop Edward's head when someone tapped lightly on the cabin door and roused him from his musings.

"Enter," Hook hissed impatiently.

"Here I am, sir," Smee bustled in. "Let's get you…" He stopped in mid-sentence, for the Captain was already dressed and Edward was down on one knee, fastening the last of the buckles on Hook's boots. "Oh, well," he stammered. "Let me get your coat, sir."

"Never mind the bloody coat," Hook snapped. "Have Mullins ready the starboard guns below, and no lights. I'll gut the man who gives our advantage away. Those not manning the guns should wait at the foot of the stairs for my orders." He cut his eyes towards Edward. "We will ambush their ambush, lad."

"Aye sir," Smee saluted and hurried from the cabin, glaring back at Edward for a moment. Just who did he think he was, anyway, Smee wondered. He had been the Captain's valet for more years than he could remember and no brown-nosing fellow was going to take that job away.

Edward slipped his shoulder holster on and checked the pistol's clip. He loaded a round into the breech and set the safety before shoving the pistol back into the holster and made sure his extra clips were full. He handed Hook's two pistols to the man after the Captain had slung on his sword and Edward reached for his shotgun.

"Not that," Hook said, catching hold of Edward's wrist. "I think you'll find the sword more useful."

"Yes sir," Edward answered, a bit dubious. "I'm not that good with one yet, you know. You just started working with me a few days ago.."

"True," Hook replied. "But those savages don't know that, nor have they any skill with a sword whatsoever. Besides," Hook winked, "You're better than you think, and you will find it much handier in close quarters than the long gun. "

"Yes sir," Edward hung his sword from his belt. "If you say so."

Hook held a finger to his lips and crept from the cabin with Edward close behind. Adrenaline was already beginning to surge through his body like a bad case of buck-fever. He tried to talk himself back down, chiding himself mentally for getting so excited - or was it scared? Charging out onto a field and taking down half a dozen enemy by surprise was one thing; Edward wasn't entirely sure this hand-to-hand combat thing was his style. He started to follow Hook across the shadowy deck.

"I want you up on the quarterdeck," Hook whispered, catching Edward by one shoulder a few steps from his cabin door. "Keep an eye on them and signal me when they get close."

"Yes sir," Edward nodded and raced up the quarterdeck stairs. Once he reached the top he glanced over his shoulder to make sure no part of the attack was coming from the island. Edward hunkered down and snuck over to the starboard bulkhead, peering out towards the north point of Pirate's Cove. The canoes were well past the point and now angling out to sea so their occupants could come in from the west without being silhouetted by the moon. He heard a soft rap on the railing next to him and looked down at Hook.

"Two-hundred and fifty yards, I'd guess," Edward said in as low a voice as possible. "Headed out to sea at the moment."

"Aye," Hook breathed. "They want black sky behind them. Trust a savage to plot a perfect ambush."

Edward watched the procession of small boats for a few more minutes, surprised at the speed the warriors were able to maintain. He leaned back towards the railing. "They've turned back to us," Edward said softly. "Damn they can cover some ground in those things, can't they?" He looked at the Captain. Hook had one eyebrow raised in query. "Ground, water," Edward grinned. "Whatever."

Hook stifled a chuckle and shook his head. Of all the times for the fellow to be making jokes, he thought. "How far now?" he asked.

"One hundred, may one twenty five," Edward mumbled. "Hard to tell from this angle."

"All right," Hook said. "I'll be with you in a moment." He motioned towards the slightly ajar door, then eased up the stairs to the quarterdeck and crouched down beside Edward. "You stay with me."

"Yes sir," Edward nodded. "I've got your back."

Hook glanced at his protégé for a moment. The fellow used some very strange expressions, though he guessed it was only natural considering the fantastical tales Edward had related regarding his world. He lay his hand lightly on Edward's left shoulder. "Steady now, lad. Wait for my signal."

Edward nodded, his eyes glued on the approaching canoes. He heard the scrape of steel on steel as Hook eased his sword from it's scabbard and reached for the hilt of his own blade. He checked over his shoulder to the port side of the ship just to be sure no one was coming over that side and felt the Captain's hand on his head, turning his attention back to starboard.

The Indians crept up the side of the Jolly Roger silently and with astonishing ease. Only one squad used the steps that ran from the water-line up to the deck. The rest came skulking up the side and over the bulkheads with the ease of wharf rats. Hook waited until three quarters of them were aboard before he ordered his counter-attack. Then pirates poured from below deck, firing muskets into their midst, and at least half of the warriors were cut down in a hail of bullets.

Hook met one warrior, Red Eagle, armed with his tomahawk and spear, at the top of the quarterdeck stairwell. The spear was easily neutralized with one swipe from his sword. Red Eagle managed several dangerously close blows towards Hook with the tomahawk before the Captain easily ran him through.

Edward, true to his word, guarded Hook's back and flanks, following the Captain down to the deck and into the fray. Hook's zeal for killing both startled and impressed Edward; in fact, he found the blood lust quite contagious. He let out a war-cry that would have frightened the Devil himself and began slashing at any brave who came near the Captain's vulnerable side, his sword in his left hand and a battle axe in his right. And while he didn't always make fatal contact with his opponents, the warriors soon left a wide berth around who they would later call 'the mad-dog that protects Hook.'

Their numbers dwindling rapidly, Chief Great Big Little Panther called for his remaining warriors to retreat. They vanished back over the starboard bulkhead almost as quickly as they had appeared, paddling hard for the island. When the canoes were about one hundred feet away, Hook ordered a barrage of canon fire that decimated the war party. Canoes exploded into splinters, killing off all but a handful of the chief's bravest and fastest warriors.

Edward ran back up onto the quarterdeck and began systematically picking off any survivors in pistol range. He emptied one clip and quickly smacked a full one into the Ruger. An icy tingle shot down his back and Edward spun around, ending in a stance that would have put James Bond himself to shame. He blinked, perplexed, and seeing no danger he looked down to the main deck to give Hook the all-clear. From the corner of his vision Edward caught a glimpse of a single archer, his hair cropped uncharacter-istically close, standing on the port bulkhead and concealed in shadows. In an instant he lined up the brave's intended target and felt his heart sinking into his stomach….

Hook stood watching the sharks enjoy their early breakfast as they fed on dead and dying warriors. He was relishing the screams of the not-yet dead when something hit him hard and sent him crashing to the deck. He rolled to slash at whatever had attacked him in time to see Edward roll to his knees and fire twice at Heart of Two Lions.

The warrior dropped to the deck, wounded but not dead. The two shots had struck him in both knees and he was as good as crippled. Heart of Two Lions looked up to see Edward crossing the deck towards him at a slow lope, with what appeared to be a wooden club in his hands.

"Did you think you would get off so light as to be shot dead?" Edward snarled between his teeth. He smacked the axe handle he had found on the deck in his palm twice as he paced in front of the hapless brave. "I don't think so, son-of-a-bitch" He the broke indian's right collar bone with his first swing, and the man's jaw with the next. He unleashed a series of brutal, punitive blows to the brave's body breaking as many bones as possible, but careful not to kill the man too quickly, lest he not suffer enough for his attempt on Hook's life. "You hateful son-of-a-bitch!" Edward growled. "You rotten, sorry-ass mother fucker! I'm sick of your shit! Never again," he smacked Heart of Two Lions on the side of his head. "Never!" he roared. "Never!"

Smee was at his Captain's side instantly, checking him over for injuries. "Are ye wounded sir," Smee stammered.

"No," Hook huffed. "And quit pawing me so." He rose to his feet slowly, transfixed on the spectacle occurring at the port bulkhead. Edward was steadily beating what was left of Heart of Two Lions into a bloody pulp, and sounding more like a bear than a man. "What..." he began. He noticed that his crew had all retreated to the starboard side of the deck, their mouths hanging agape as they watched the vicious attack, and he signaled for them to keep back.

"Damned savage tried to shoot you, sir," Hopkins, who was nearest Hook, explained. "Got Jameson there instead. Your fellow there saved your life, sir.""

Hook glanced over to the dead pirate; he vaguely remembered the man entering his line of sight fractions of a second before he was dragged down. He looked back over to Edward, then back to Jameson and the arrow shaft that protruded from the man's neck. He tried to hide his shock as the series of events came together and revealed his close call, but he was still stunned nonetheless. "Mr. Smee," he said slowly, not taking his eyes off the spectacle. "Draw me a hot bath and have the crew clear the deck."

"Aye sir," Smee nodded. "Will you be wanting anything for…" his voice trailed off and he watched his Captain walking very deliberately towards his apprentice. "Humph," he snorted. "You heard the Cap'n. Clear these mangy dogs away and mop this blood up."

Hook halted his advance a few steps from Edward. The boy was still pounding away at Heart of Two Lions, growling obscenities with every blow. The man was already dead, but the boy seemed locked into his frenzy of rage, saliva spewing from his mouth like a rabid beast. Sweat rolled down Edward's face and drops hung from matted locks of his hair; it had even soaked through the back of his heavy coat and the boy was splattered with blood and bits from head to toe.

"Easy lad," Hook murmured; the boy appeared to be in some sort of shock. He reached for Edward's shoulder, ready to evade the swing that might come. "Edward, lad," He said a bit louder.

Edward drew back to deliver another blow to the infernal, murderous redskin. He froze when he felt the Captain's hand on his left shoulder and finally heard the man's voice. The bloody axe handle slipped from his hands and clunked noisily to the deck, and he rubbed his eyes trying to clear the sweat from them. He stared at heap of flesh at his feet, for it no longer even vaguely resembled a person. Blood oozed from every part of it and Edward suddenly realized exactly what he had done and the state of his appearance. A forgotten fear began to creep over him and he timidly looked back over his shoulder to Hook. "I…." he began, almost apologetically. He looked down at his blood spattered clothes and the steam rising from his own agitated body. "What happened? What did I do?" he asked Hook; he heard his own voice shaking and it embarrassed him.

"It's all right," Hook said quietly. "Calm down." The boy reminded him of a cornered, spooked thoroughbred, every fiber tensed, ready to bolt and stomp whatever got in its way to death, and Hook handled him as such; no sudden movements, no loud noises, and patient, soothing tones. He carefully eased his right arm around Edward's shoulders. "You're going to make a first class pirate, lad. Good show."

Edward stared back at bloody heap; icy waves of dread raced from his scalp to the soles of his feet, and Edward could feel himself shaking. "I don't know what happened. I don't remember…"

"Never mind. You just come with me," Hook said softly. "Let's get you cleaned up." He carefully steered Edward back towards his cabin. He glanced at Smee as he passed the old man. "Fetch me some brandy, Smee," he ordered before disappearing inside his cabin with the boy.

Smee looked towards the cabin for a moment. "Well," he muttered to himself, "And I thought I had seen it all." He was beginning to wonder who this imposter was that had replaced his formerly surly, unapproachable Captain, for had he not know better, he would swear Hook was actually concerned for this Edward fellow. He snorted with contempt and headed below to fetch the Captain's brandy.

Edward peered over his shoulder towards the desk where Captain Hook sat reading and enjoying his customary evening cigar and drink. He felt himself smile and nestled himself down again. He had re-evaluated his situation in the past few days and decided that if he had indeed died, he most definitely was not in Hell.

Here he was, living out every left-over childhood fantasy of his in the shadow of his childhood idol, a man whose footsteps he still practically worshipped - the wicked, loathsome pirate he still loved as fervently as he had as a five-year old. Actually, Hook wasn't such a bad fellow after all, but then Edward had held this opinion of Hook all along. Of course, it was comforting to know he'd been right. In reality, the man treated him better than his own father ever had.

James Hook paused from his reading and took several healthy puffs on his cigar. He watched the smoke as it flowed from his nostrils, curling lazily towards the ceiling. A gust of wind howled around the ship, driving snow against the cabin's windows. Hook glanced over to the fainting couch where Edward slept and was glad he'd insisted on moving it to the foot of his own bed. The boy should sleep much better now, as he would certainly be warmer away from the door. He assumed the cold was what had awakened Edward so early this morning, though he was exceedingly glad that it had. Otherwise the redskins would surely have slaughtered the ship's entire company.

The corners of his mouth flicked upwards for a brief moment; the boy was proving to be a far more valuable addition to his crew than even Hook himself had dreamed. He was, Hook decided, quite a paradox; a fully grown man, yet his behavior belied his age to the point where Hook sometimes found it difficult to consider Edward an adult. He fought like a berserk Viking one moment, then heeled at the Captain's mildest request, rather like an obedient puppy. One thing the Captain was quite sure of though, was that Edward had quashed any salacious designs certain members of the crew may have had on him. It was doubtful any of them would try and molest the boy now, having seen the brutality he was capable of.

Hook crushed out his cigar and quaffed the remaining brandy in his snifter, returning to his reading. Very shortly though, he became acutely aware that he was being watched and cut his eyes towards the fainting couch once more.

"I thought you would be asleep by now," Hook noted, not looking up from his book.

"I was," Edward answered sleepily, "At least, I dozed off for a little while."

"Does the light disturb you?" Hook asked.

"No sir," Edward propped himself up on one elbow. "I was just doing some thinking."

"Ah. I thought I smelled something burning," Hook commented dryly. He winked at the boy.

"That's because my brain won't slow down," Edward smirked. "So it runs hot, you know." A wry smile played at the corners of his mouth.

"You could always move your bed back over by the door."

"No thank you," Edward chuckled. "I prefer my toes in an un-frozen state, if its all the same to you." He flopped back down on the couch and burrowed back under his covers. "Good night, sir."

Hook chuckled under his breath. "Good night." The boy made for pleasant company at the very least, though that was hardly the extent of his value. Then again, Hook mused, it was a rare treat indeed to enjoy the company of a true friend; it had been so terribly long since he'd actually had a friend, and the realization brought a twinge of pain with it.

Edward though, Hook felt, was something much more than a mere friend. The boy had only been in his company for five days, and had thrice saved the Captain's life, at great personal risk to himself on two occasions. Hook flexed his left shoulder and found it rather stiff from where it had been driven into the deck. He was not quite sure how Edward had accomplished such a grand leap. Hook had gone back several times this afternoon and calculated the considerable distance from the quarterdeck to where he'd been standing and the angle of descent - he shook his head. No matter, the important thing was that the arrow missed him and Edward had dispatched Heart of Two Lions, to put it mildly.

It had not been a conventional assault. Anyone in possession of such a weapon as Edward's pistol could have easily killed the savage with one well-placed shot; the boy had done so several days earlier. No, Hook thought, Heart of Two Lions had unearthed some hidden rage in the boy and had paid dearly for his mistake. And Edward had become incensed past all reason and had practically made himself ill from over-exertion. It had taken Hook the better part of an hour to finally bring the boy back down to a reasonable frame of mind.

Hook suddenly wondered had he thanked the boy. He had talked with Edward at length about anything and everything to refocus his mind. He had congratulated him on his bravery and swordsmanship. He'd even had to reassure the boy that he had, in actuality, done nothing terribly wrong by killing Heart of Two Lions as he was defending the Captain; that no one was angry with him nor would there be any repercussions. But for whatever reason, Hook was almost positive he had failed to express his gratitude. He swung his chair around so he faced Edward's 'bed'.

"Edward," Hook said softly. If the boy was asleep there was no reason to wake him.

"Yes sir," Edward raised his head from his pillow.

"Lad,"Hook began, "If I have already mentioned this to you, then forgive me for disturbing you." He noted Edward's quizzical expression. "I'll get to the point. On the chance I failed to mention it earlier - thank you."

"For…." Edward looked at the man blankly.

"I am told you saved me from Heart of Two Lion's arrow," Hook paused and looked into the boy's eyes. "I appreciate your generosity and valor."

Edward held Hook's gaze for several moments, trying not to grin too broadly. "No problem," he said. "I told you I had your back."

"So you did," Hook nodded. "You're a good lad, Edward."

"Oh, I wouldn't go that far but…" Edward began. He halted in mid-spate, for Hook's expression had suddenly grown dark. "Sir?" he said timidly.

Hook looked at Edward quite sternly for far longer than he probably should have, for he could see the boy growing more nervous with every passing second. "Lad," he said quietly. "Who gave thee this dreadfully low opinion of yourself?"

Edward looked away and stared at the floor. "I didn't mean to argue with you," he stammered. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Hook asked. "You've done nothing wrong. To the contrary, you have done everything perfectly. I couldn't be more pleased with your performance had I searched the ends of the earth for you."

"Thank you," Edward said shyly.

"You're most welcome," Hook replied. "But you haven't answered my question. Who has brow-beaten you so?"

"Some asshole," Edward muttered. "You don't know him."

" 'Tis a good thing, too," Hook said. "For I would find him and tear his heart out this instant." He got up and stood at the foot of the fainting couch. "You're a good lad. You're a fine, brave man, and you are - you're my friend. And I will not have anyone disparaging your reputation, including yourself." He smiled at Edward. "Is that understood?"

"Yes sir," Edward answered solemnly.

"Very well," Hook said. "Now, I think we both are due for some well-deserved rest. What say you, lad?"

"Yes sir," Edward nodded. "Good night sir." He laid back down, wanting to say something more but not quite having the nerve.

Hook began to undress, wrestling out of the uncomfortable harness which bore his claw. He cast it onto his desk and snuffed out the remaining candle, leaving the room lit only by what starlight reflected off the heavy layer of snow that had fallen. He stripped, leaving his garments in a heap beside his bed; the chill in his room convinced him to wear a nightshirt to bed this evening instead of sleeping as God had made him, as was his custom. Finally nestled under the warm covers of his bed, Hook mused that there must be a better way of warming his quarters than with the cast iron stove that sat near the bathtub. And while he bore no fondness whatsoever for Peter, he wished the imp would hurry back so as to thaw out the artic wasteland Neverland had become.

Hook shivered under his covers, still turning the day's events over in his mind. For certain, the Captain was not quite sure how he felt about the whole experience. Having seen the boy's worth in battle, Hook wished there was some way he could have been witness to Edward's charge on the glade; it would have been interesting to compare to Heart of Two Lion's slaying. Different members of the crew - Mullins, Bainbridge, Guinness - had related their versions to him, all similar tales of a sudden violent, brutal attack and an equally vicious flogging of Pan, Yet the person who freed him from the avalanche of dead bodies had been as attentive and respectful a gentleman as Hook could remember meeting.

Hook sighed. Coming to grips with the fact that another living soul would defend him so staunchly, and of their own free will, left him in something of a quandary. He was still trying to adjust to being the object of Edward's ardent admiration. This being loved thing was an entirely new experience itself, and it poked and pried at parts of himself he'd rather keep locked away in the deepest recesses of his memory. He mulled his own feelings over in his mind. He had to admit that he did feel something for Edward, though it had been so long since he'd felt anything for another living soul besides hate and rage, Hook was not quite sure what to label it. Respect maybe. Or gratitude, or maybe a certain sense of familiarity - or was there something more to it?

The Captain found himself oft times wondering if it was possible that Edward might be a distant relative; surely the pirate had been with enough women in his day to have spawned a legion of fatherless sons. Perhaps one of his own unknown bastards had given rise to this most unusual young man. It would certainly help explain the strange bond he had begun to feel with Edward; it was almost as if he had known the boy before, but another place and another time. The very notion tweaked at some raw spot on his soul and Hook shuddered the thought away; it made him feel most uncomfortable and disturbed to consider the possibility.

Hook was not quite sure how long he had lay in bed before sleep had overtaken him, nor how long he had been asleep. What he was aware of, and most keenly, was that some-thing had wrenched him from the warmth of his slumbering, and that something was a long, terrified, wailing scream - a scream that seemed to reach across from some long forgotten time and jab at his memory as well as his consciousness. Hook flung his covers back and sprang to his feet, and had he not been fully awake before, the cold floor jarred him to his senses. Instantly he found himself by the fainting couch.

"Edward!" Hook shook the boy's shoulders to rouse him. He had to shake much harder to actually wrench Edward from the grip of whatever was tormenting his sleep, and when the boy finally woke, an angry hive of hornets could not have exploded from their nest with any more violence than Edward did from his covers. "Edward!" Hook shouted again, grabbing him hard by his right shoulder. Finally the screaming stopped and Edward, wild-eyed, bathed in sweat and gasping for breath, stared at the Captain. "Calm down lad," Hook soothed. "It was just a dream."

Edward half-rubbed, half-clawed at his eyes, trying to wipe the horrible images away. Embarrassed, he found it difficult to maintain eye contact with Hook. What was worse, he heard Smee coming up from below decks, which meant Smee and probably most of the crew had heard him, and now he realized he was still shaking and could not stop. Smee rapped softly on the door to Hook's cabin and Edward gave the Captain a panicked look. Hook seemed to understand, for he went to door but did not open it.

"The situation has been handled, Mr. Smee," He spoke through the door to Smee.

"Are you alright?" Smee queried, sounding quite concerned. "I heard ye all the way from my bed."

"That was not me," Hook hissed through his teeth, as quietly as he could, "Now goodnight, Smee."

"Oh," came Smee's somewhat baffled reply. "Oh, I see," he continued, having finally gotten the gist of things. "Well, goodnight Cap'n."

Edward sank down onto the couch with his face buried in his hands, trying to fight back the humiliating tears. He felt Hook sit down beside him and could feel the piercing blue eyes gazing at him. "I am so sorry," Edward whispered hoarsely.

"Now then," Hook rested his hand on the boy's shoulder, "Nightmares are an unavoidable part of sleeping. I've had more than my fair share."

"But it won't go away," Edward groaned, pounding one knee with his fist. "I don't want to go back there! I won't!"

"And you don't have to," Hook placated. "I certainly have no intentions of sending you away." He put his right arm around Edward's shoulders and sat quietly until the boy appeared to calm; another moment of déjà vu flashed through his system. "Are you all right now?"

Edward fought to subdue the panic that was seething just beneath his skin. He felt more like crawling under the settee and hiding than going back to bed. But this was not the side of himself he wanted the Captain to see so he nodded and reluctantly settled back under the blankets. "Thanks," he said weakly.

"You are most welcome," Hook replied softly, "Good night." He returned to his own bed and scrambled back under the warm covers, still feeling a bit shaken. Edward had not been forthcoming about the details of his nightmare, though Hook deduced from his statement that the boy must have dreamed himself back in his own time; obviously the notion of not being in the Captain's company was most distressing. He felt his ego smirk smugly at this idea. And wouldn't it just irk Pan too, to witness the defeat of his curse - to be alone and unloved.

At some point during his slumbers the Captain rolled from his left side onto his back and then onto his right side so that his left forearm hung off the edge of the bed. His fingers kept brushing up against some foreign object that most certainly should not be that close to his bed and Hook's well honed self-preservation instincts roused him from his own disturbing dreams. His eyes snapped open and quickly focused in the dimly illuminated room, trying to remember what had awakened him, for all was as still as an abandoned cathedral.

Cautiously, Hook propped himself up on his right elbow and peered towards the foot of his bed, thinking maybe his new recruit was suffering another round of nightmares. To his surprise, he discovered the couch was minus its occupant. "Not again," he groaned under his breath.

He began to flip his covers back to swing his feet from the bed when his eyesight fell on an odd lump beside his bed. A second look quickly explained what had awakened him; the boy was hunkered down on the floor with his knees drawn up to his chest and his face buried in his arms, jammed up in the corner where the side of Hook's bed met the nightstand.

"What the deuce?" Hook stared blankly at Edward for several moments, trying to puzzle out the boy's strange behavior. He was, Hook surmised, still quite distressed, for though Edward made not a sound, he could plainly see the boy shaking and his shoulders heaving in the darkness.

Hook shook his head. What ghastly manner of nightmares was this fellow afflicted with, he wondered. The Captain's recently awakened paternal instincts slipped into gear and without any consideration to his reputation, or his pride, Hook let his hand drop gently atop Edward's bowed head.

"Lad," he said softly, "Whatever is the matter?" He felt Edward jerk at his initial touch, then lean his head into the pirate's palm. Only then did the boy allow the merest of sounds to escape from his throat; the muffled hitching of his breath.

Hook sat up on the edge of the bed and tried to coax Edward from his cringe. He was somewhat successful, though not quite what he'd been aiming for. Edward un-balled himself and slumped against the Captain's right leg, burying his face against Hook's knee. Hook sat rigid and motionless, unaccustomed to anyone being so careless about coming into physical contact with him; this was the second time Edward had disregarded the Captain's personal space. Ordinarily, such recklessness incurred swift, sudden punishment, usually death.

He gazed down at Edward, still clinging to his leg and trying to stifle his sobs. At the moment, Hook thought he looked rather less like a grown man and more like a frightened child. Just who was this Edward anyway, and where had he met the boy before. He must have, Hook thought. There was no other sound explanation for his failure to immediately gut the boy, nor for the constant, nagging, almost painful familial twinges he felt towards Edward.

Hook was sailing on uncharted waters here; on the one hand, he knew he was reputed to be the most fearsome, wicked, cruel pirate captain that history ever knew and rightly so. He had his reputation and his dignity to think about. He couldn't just go about coddling every sniveling member of the crew. Why, he thought, they would almost surely lose all respect for him and mutiny at once. He should just kick the boy aside and gruffly order him back to bed after threatening to flog him over this nonsense.

The problem was that, much as he rationalized what he should do, it was not what James Hook really wanted to do, despite all his soundly based reasoning. And so it was that his right arm found its way around Edward's shoulders and his left hand took to stroking the boy's head. A crushing wave of grief welled up in his chest, though from whence it came Hook knew not; he could have done quite nicely, however, without the knot that was trying to crawl up the back of his throat.

"Come on," Hook said hoarsely, patting the mattress beside him. "Up off that cold floor before you catch your death of cold." He felt Edward shake his head against him. "Come on now," Hook said, reaching for the boy's right bicep to pull him up, but Edward only clung tighter to his leg.

"I'm sorry," Edward wheezed. "I don't want to go back there, please don't make me go."

"Do you take me for a liar, boy?" Hook asked, mildly annoyed. "I told you that you can stay and for all that I am wicked, I am not one to go back on my word." He could have been talking to thin air for all the reaction his words elicited.

"I don't want to go, please," Edward begged. "I won't do it again, I'm sorry. Don't make me go back there."

Hook sighed, exasperated; it was as if the boy hadn't heard a word he'd spoken. Was it possible, he wondered, for Edward to be locked that deep in another nightmare - or was it perhaps something related to the boy's admitted mental problems? He had mentioned medication which he obviously had not brought with him. Was this behavior reflective of the lack of those drugs? Hook shook Edward's shoulder hard to rouse him from whatever state he was in. "Edward!" he said loudly.

Edward jerked as if he'd been jabbed with a red hot branding iron. He could hear the Captain's voice, but whatever words the man spoke were muffled by the roaring of blood in Edward's own ears. He blinked, trying to focus in the darkness and realized where he was and what he was doing. His mind raced trying to remember how he'd ended up in such a precarious position - nothing; he drew a blank. All he could remember was going back to sleep and… Fragments of his latest nightmare flooded back suddenly and he buried his face against Hook's knee once more, only this time he wept openly, grief-stricken.

Hook swallowed the tightness in his throat away and heaved a sigh, letting his fingers stroke gently through the boy's hair. "What is it?" Hook asked softly. "Another bad dream?" He felt Edward nod in agreement. "There now," he soothed. "It was just a dream. It's all over now."

"I know," Edward choked, trying to smother his humiliating sobs. What must the man think of him, he wondered. "But it won't go away. I keep seeing it over and over again. It won't stop."

Hook caught Edward under one armpit and pulled the boy to his knees. "For heaven's sake, get up off that cold floor before you make yourself ill, lad." This time Edward followed his instruction and sat on the edge of the Captain's bed, leaning heavily against the man. Hook wrapped his right arm around the boy's shoulders, not at all surprised now when Edward slumped against him and buried his face against Hook's chest. His usual urge to cut and rip barely fluttered at the edge of his thoughts before slinking away into oblivion.

"All right now," Hook murmured. "I've got you. You're safe." To his horror, Hook realized he had taken to rocking Edward side to side slightly. Damn it all to hell, he thought. Why did this fellow have such an effect on him? Where did he know the boy from? But the harder Hook searched his memory for some recollection of Edward, the sicker to his stomach he felt, and an alien sense of panic began to creep into his consciousness. Hook shook his head to clear his thoughts and drive the sensation away.

"I'm sorry," Edward half-whispered.

"For what?" Hook asked.

"Waking you up again," Edward said. "I don't know what happened. I don't remember leaving the couch at all."

"Pshaw," Hook snorted. "I've done as much to old Smee myself with bad dreams." He stared down at the top of Edward's head, still nestled against him. "Do you have any idea what it was?" he asked quietly. He felt Edward heave a great sigh, then nod. "Sometimes," he started, "it does help to talk about it, if you can." He sat quietly, slowly freezing in the dark, chilly room, waiting to see if Edward would divulge any of his nightmare. He had almost concluded not when he heard Edward clear his throat.

"I was," Edward hesitated; he could hear his own voice faltering already. He cleared his throat again in an attempt to regain control. "I was back on the glade, just like the other day. Everything was the same except…" he stopped again, he could feel himself losing it.

"Yes?" Hook felt Edward's shoulder blades lurch several times.

"I couldn't move," Edward almost choked on his words. "My feet, they were like, made of lead and I couldn't move. And when I tried to use the shotgun and the Ruger - well, I couldn't get them to fire."

"But that isn't what happened," Hook tried to reassure Edward. "Not really. You performed most valiantly."

"But that's not what I keep seeing!" Edward protested, "Over and over and over again. I couldn't stop him - Pan. He cut off your hand and danced around the rock with it like some sick trophy… and I could hear you calling for help, and I couldn't move! And then…" He ground his head against Hook, trying to shake the images from his eyes. "I'm sorry," Edward croaked, "I don't mean to, but they -" He hesitated again. "They killed you and ..." The sadness over-whelmed him again and he wept silently against the Captain.

Hook hugged the heaving shoulders. An awful, crushing ache seized his chest; he had suffered far too many mind-numbing nightmares himself and knew how cruel they could be. Even after he woke the images remained vivid in his mind, torturing him again and again. And while Hook's pride swelled at being the object of such affection, it was entirely too painful to see the boy so obviously grief-stricken. "Edward," he said gently.

"I'm so scared," Edward whispered.

"It was just a dream," Hook said, trying to be reassuring. "I'm quite alive still and very well, thanks to you."

"There was more," Edward said. "Something else besides that dream, I can't remember but…."

"Yes?' Hook asked.

"I don't know, but I'm scared now," Edward choked on a sob that tried to escape. "I'm so damned scared I don't know what to do, and I don't know why. I'm just scared and I hate it."

There was little doubt in Hook's mind that Edward spoke the truth; the lad was about to shake himself to bits, and quite different from the Captain's own shivering from the cold. He momentarily wondered how it was that Edward was not chilled to the bone as he was, and the boy wore only an undershirt and long johns while he wore his heaviest flannel nightshirt. An idea tip-toed cautiously through Hook's mind and he raised one eyebrow thoughtfully. He glanced over his right shoulder at the bed - after all, he thought, he was the captain. Who would dare to question him, if they ever found out - and they wouldn't. And he had to do something, he felt, lest Edward lose what was left of his sanity. Besides, Hook reasoned, it would be much warmer than sitting here in the dark growing icicles on his mustache and toes, and other assorted body parts.

Hook stood up and turned the covers back. "Get in," he said quietly.

Edward stared up at him, mortified. "Sir?" he squeaked timidly.

Even in the faint light Hook could see the boy go pale and knew what he was thinking. "Don't be ridiculous Edward," he chided gently, "I could no more molest you than I could my own son, if I had one." And if he did, he thought, he would pray the child turned out like Edward. "Now, come on," he insisted. "In you go."

Edward swallowed hard and tried to squelch his fears, but forced himself to obey the Captain. He slid over to the far side of the bed and watched Hook follow him under the covers, fighting the panicky sense of being trapped that seethed through his system. Edward could feel himself shaking again. He was still scared out of his mind and had no clue why, but he was sure it wasn't the Captain that he was afraid of, though somehow the current situation wasn't really helping either; he just wanted it to end.

Hook turned onto his left side and motioned for Edward to follow suit. "Yes sir," Edward whispered. Against his every instinct Edward tried to make himself settle next to the Captain, His intentions had been to put his back towards Hook, as per his instructions, but found himself seized by yet another wave of grief and instead ended up with his face buried against the comfort of Hook's chest. "I'm so scared…" was all he could manage to get out before anxiety and anguish consumed him totally.

Hook was taken aback for a brief moment only, and found himself tucking Edward's head beneath his chin "My poor friend," he mumbled softly. Again he realized he had taken to stroking Edward's head in an attempt to calm him, though it seemed futile and he decided it was probably best to just let the boy get whatever was troubling him out of his system. He closed his eyes and held Edward close, mumbling any soothing platitudes he could think of.

"I love you, sir," Edward wheezed.

"There now," Hook murmured. "You're a good lad." Love. It still sounded so foreign to his ears, yet he had no doubt of Edward's sincerity. He would swear he could literally feel the boy's affection seeping into him. And then there was that marvelous sense of trust he felt from Edward - absolute trust at that. Nothing he asked of the boy was questioned, Edward simply obeyed, over-riding any reservations he might have simply because the Captain asked - because he trusted the man. No one had trusted him, Hook reminded himself, in, in… in a very long time.

He felt Edward trying to force himself closer. The boy had his face pressed so hard against his chest that Hook marveled how he was still able to breathe. Good, God, he wondered, what must it take to so terrify someone who fought with such ferocity? He crooked his right knee around Edward's legs and hugged the boy tighter.

"Would that you were my son," Hook bemoaned. "For you are the one individual that has made me believe it is possible that I truly might be loved." He had harbored doubts about Edward, secretly, for somewhere in the back of his mind Hook had been convinced that this whole thing was a ruse, an elaborate plot of Pan's to circumvent his usual wariness. Those fears were gone now, melted away, and in that moment Hook was convinced that he finally possessed a way to defeat Pan, the only way he could defeat Pan. For once Peter was made to see that Edward's declarations were not mere words but living, breathing fact, surely he would lose his 'happy' thoughts and then Hook would kill the little brute once and for all.

He was not sure how long Edward wept, only that he wondered if the boy would ever stop and when he finally did cease, he plunged into an exhausted, fitful sleep. Hook maintained his hold on Edward; even in his sleep the boy still shook. Leave him behind, indeed, he scoffed. He intended to keep Edward as close to him as was necessary and possible, for both their sakes. Hook resolved that very instant that in the morning he would adopt Edward as his son, assuming the boy had no objections, and would make such an announcement to the crew. After that, it would not take long for word to reach Peter and that would spell the beginning of Pan's end. He rested his cheek against the top of Edward's head, occasionally murmuring a word of comfort to his new-found son. Finally he felt the boy relax somewhat and only then did Hook allow himself to drift off into a light sleep.

Something kept tickling the top of his head; something like a breath of wind playing in his unruly locks. It came and it went, very evenly, almost rhythmically. Edward tried to ignore it and sink back into deep sleep; he was enveloped in the most warm and secure sensation he could remember having in years - when he used to have bad dreams and crawl into bed with… with… Oh hell, he thought, did it matter with who? He just wanted to stay asleep and enjoy the peace.

Slowly, he became aware of a familiar scent, a fragrance, a rather sweet, spicy smell like an aftershave. Where had he smelled that before, he wondered. It wasn't his father's; he'd worn Skin Bracer. But this scent he recognized from somewhere in his childhood, belonging to some distant, long forgotten friend. He inhaled the scent deeply and tried to focus on a memory, hanging just out of his grasp. His mind had been moving slower than a check in the mail, but it recoiled with lightning reflexes when it got too close to the truth and Edward tried to burrow deeper into the warm safety of…. Hmm, he wondered. Now that he thought about it, just where was he?

Begrudgingly, he tried to focus in the dark and blinked sleepily. He stared at what appeared to be collar of sorts and buttons, then at the neck and chest that inhabited it. At first Edward was confused and wondered if he was still dreaming, but soon the events of the evening flooded back and he jerked when he realized he was in Hook's bed and still firmly within the Captain's embrace; he woke Hook when he did so.

"Edward?" Hook half whispered. He waited for a response. "Son?"

"Sir?" he replied weakly.

"Is everything all right?" Hook eased his hold on Edward so the boy could roll onto his back.

"I'm not sure," Edward answered. He rubbed his bleary eyes and pushed himself up onto the pillows. His head could not have ached more if he'd been out on a drinking binge, and he felt as though he'd been hit in the chest with a two-by-four. "Nightmare," he muttered under his breath.

"And a terrifying one at that," Hook added, propping himself up on his left elbow. "How do you feel?"

"Like I fell off one of those cliffs by the castle," Edward yawned. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Hook said, pushing himself up to lean against the headboard. "You were frightened… I know what that feels like."

Edward's mind was still moving a bit sluggishly, rather like cold molasses. He glanced sideways at Hook. "Umm… what, why am I…." he hesitated.

"Certainly not for what you're thinking," Hook chuckled. "I would not take advantage of anyone in such a state as you were and besides, my feelings towards you do not run in that direction."

"Oh," Edward said. "Of course not," he fumbled for something clever to say but came up empty handed. "I mean, I know you wouldn't - I trust you." He pushed himself up further so he sat beside Hook at the headboard.

"Thank you, lad," Hook smiled slightly. "I daresay I appreciate your trust more than you shall ever know."

"No problem," Edward said, rubbing his aching head. "But, how did I end up here?"

"Do you remember any of you dream?" Hook asked.

"Yes sir," Edward answered. "Bits and pieces, that is." He shuddered as a few grisly images flashed through his mind, and felt Hook's hand on his right shoulder immediately.

"Steady now," Hook soothed. He waited a few moments before prying further into Edward's dreams. "Do you have any idea what it was that left you so frightened?"

Edward scratched at the sideburns he'd been cultivating. "I…" he began. An image flashed through his mind for a split second and was gone; he shuddered again. "No sir, I'm sorry but I don't have a clue."

"Not to worry," Hook reassured. He inhaled a deep breath to steel his nerves, hoping he would not send Edward of into another fit of panic. "Whatever it was, though," he said, "It terrified you past the point of all reasoning. I have seen your anger and your rage, I've seen your fearlessness, but I have never seen you that afraid. I shudder to think what must visit your dreams to frighten you so."

"I don't know," Edward murmured, staring at the wall next to his left shoulder. "I don't remember."

"I know you don't," Hook continued. "I thought if I took you into my bed, got you warm - that it might calm you down. And it did, eventually."

Edward leaned his head against the wall with a small thump, ashamed of his behavior. "I'm sorry about screwing up your sleep, sir," he sighed. "I really don't mean to be such a pain in the ass but…"

"Nonsense," Hook snorted. "If you were a bother, I assure you, you would be well aware of the fact."

"Yes sir," Edward said quietly. "But why didn't you just run me back to the couch? I could've…"

"Because, quite frankly, it was entirely too difficult to see you so distraught and do nothing." Hook studied Edward's puzzled expression for a moment. "I'm sure you're aware of my reputation, my deeds here in Neverland."

"Yes sir," Edward answered, a bit perplexed.

"I doubt though, you are aware of my actions before I became trapped here."

"No sir," Edward said. "But then if memory serves me correctly, 'Hook' is not your real last name."

"Quite correct, Edward," Hook said. "I also, cannot remember my surname. I assure you though, I do recall having committed practically every mortal sin known to man, multiple times each."

"No doubt," Edward smirked.

"I have ransacked entire towns, looted, pillaged - I have ravished women in front of their husbands and families. I have raided and sunk more ships than I can remember, and cared little for what happened to their crews. I have tortured and killed men in the presence of their wives and children merely for the pleasure of hearing them plead and weep over their loved one. I have caused untold anguish and pain, and I relished every moment of it." Hook paused and looked over at his rapt listener. "But I have never, before tonight, seen or heard such sorrow, such grief on my account."

"I reckon not." Edward drew his knees up and rested his forearms on them. "I'm sorry if I upset you. I didn't mean to, it just kind of…"

" I don't think you understand," Hook interrupted, "I am beginning to grasp the veracity and depth of your… affection for me." He noted Edward's fleeting shy smile and the slight tilt of his head. "And mine for you."

Edward raised a bemused eyebrow. "Pardon, sir?" He found himself once more caught in Hook's intense gaze, his blue eyes seemingly boring down into him and wondered if maybe he should return to his own 'bed.' No, he decided quickly. If the Captain ever had any designs on him, surely he would have had his way with him earlier. The man had said as much and leaving for the couch would convey mistrust - and he would not hurt Hook's feelings for anything.

"I have always believed," Hook explained, "or at least, I have been told with no reason to believe otherwise, that no children love me."

Edward suddenly grew quite sullen. "That's not true."

"No," Hook continued, resting his hand on Edward's right shoulder. "But until your arrival I had experienced nothing that would contradict that belief. It has been an integral part of the curse Pan uses to keep me here. All children hate me, killing him would only make them hate me more. As though I give a fig whether I am adored or despised by decades - nay, centuries of mewling brats." He snorted with disgust. "However," Hook hesitated, searching for the appropriate words. "It would have been less painful to be ripped asunder by my own hook than it was to see you, to hear you weeping so and realize that I was at the root of such angst."

Edward swallowed hard. He was not sure now if he done something wrong or not. "Sir?" he said; he bit his bottom lip nervously.

Hook sat quietly for a few minutes before answering. "I'm sure that during my career I have doubtless fathered many a bastard son or daughter. Alas, I shall never know and until recently cared not. You," he hesitated and gazed down at Edward, "You I regard as though you were my own flesh and blood. I feel I have known you since your birth. I feel pride at your successes- sorrow for your pain. I actually feel something towards you besides my customary hate." He was not at all surprised by the stunned countenance looking back at him.

"Umm… What…" He felt his back slipping down the headboard and his braced knees buckled.

Hook did not give Edward a chance to question him. He needed to say it now, while his nerve was with him. "I don't understand it myself, but I find that I care for you, a great deal - and I would have you as my son, if that is agreeable to you."

Edward was quite glad he was in at least a somewhat horizontal position, for had he been otherwise he would surely be in one now. All the cogs in his mind seemed to slip out of gear at once and he could swear he heard his brain sputtering, rather like an engine that has just run out of fuel. Slowly, he pushed himself back up so he sat up next to the Captain and reminded himself of the importance of breathing. "Captain, sir," Edward managed finally, "I, I don't know what to say. I'm such a bloody flake."

"Flake?" Hook queried.

"It means I'm a fuck-up, I'm all the time screwing something up one way or the other. Hell, I can't even remember most of my own damned name."

"You are not a 'fuck-up' as you put it," Hook huffed. "Where did you ever get such a notion from. If I searched the ends of the earth I could not find a more loyal, deserving individual. Now," he caught Edward's chin and forced the boy's head up so he might look Edward in the eyes. "I would like very much to adopt you as my son, if you have no objections."

"None sir," Edward said hoarsely. He felt as though his heart would burst from his chest at the moment. "I love you more than life, and I'd be thrilled - but are you really sure you want me?"

Hook looked into the dark eyes and saw they glistened with tears. He swallowed past the lump that had formed in his own throat. "Yes, Edward," he said softly. "Nightmares, rages and all." He could not help but smile, and welcomed Edward's inevitable embrace with open arms.

Edward rested his head back against Hook's shoulder. "They're called night terrors."

"Hmmm?" Hook queried.

"The nightmares," Edward explained. They're called night terrors. I used to get them all the time when I was growing up. I hadn't had too many though since I started taking this new medicine."

"What medicine?"

"Damned if I can remember the name of it now," Edward shook his head. "But it must've been working o.k. until I quit a few days ago, when I ended up here." He let himself relax against the Captain's side, closing his eyes with sheer bliss when he felt Hook's hand, gently stroking his head once more. He liked being close to the man; it made him feel safe, safer than safe even. He lay his head against Hook's chest and let his arms find their way around Hook's ribcage.

Hook looked down at Edward and enfolded his soon-to-be son in his arms. An almost smug smirk played on his lips when he felt the boy heave a huge sigh and sink closer to him. He let his head droop so than his chin rested atop Edward's head and let himself be engulfed in the warmth and peace of being loved- the most intoxicating feeling Hook could remember experiencing.

As far as Hook knew, he had enjoyed every sexual pleasure known to man, he had smoked or snorted or somehow imbibed every hallucinogenic, mind-altering substance he could lay his hands on, he had drunk a ship's hold of whiskey and rum, but none of them had every made him feel like this. None of them gave him this kind of satisfaction or serenity. The simple act of embracing the boy, allowing the boy to love him and himself to love the boy, gave him the fulfillment that none of his vices every had - not to mention he could avoid the unpleasant hangovers the drugs and drink had always left him with.

"You know," Edward mused in a half-whisper, "Pan is going to have a shit-fit when he finds out."

"I daresay he will," Hook smirked.

"In fact," Edward mumbled sleepily, "It'll run him crazy as an outhouse rat. It could even be his undoing."

"I had considered something along those lines," Hook agreed, "Though 'tis but a fringe benefit of your adoption."

"I want to be there when you kill the little prick," Edward said. "I know I can't kill him, but I want to watch."

"Of course," Hook murmured.

Hook's warm breath washed down through Edward's hair and over his scalp, and Edward stifled a groan of contentment. He could go back to sleep right where he was, he thought, and sleep like the dead. "Sir," he asked softly. "I am going to get to come with you when you leave, won't I?"

"As if I would leave you behind," Hook snorted, hugging Edward tightly. Indeed, he thought, and what would become of the boy if he did abandon him? Torture and a slow death at the hands of what redskins remained? Or perhaps he would be seized by a permanent fit of insanity, or merely grieve himself to death? No, he was not about to leave his son behind; he almost felt sorry for the world once they were free.

Half-asleep, Edward felt, rather than heard, the Captain yawn. It dawned on him that he was being terribly inconsiderate. "I should go back to my own bed," he mumbled, trying to sit up. He felt Hook's grip on his shoulders tighten a bit.

"You don't have to," Hook said. "Weren't you rather cold?"

"Well, sort of," Edward admitted slowly. "But it's not right for me to keep you awake like this."

"You are not keeping me awake," Hook said, afraid his heavy eyelids were betraying him anyway. "But it is rather chilly. Lay back down before we both end up with pneumonia."

Edward looked up into the Captain's eyes; he could still see their extraordinary blueness piercing into his very soul. Any misgivings he might have had about sleeping next to the man seemed to melt away like his breath did on the chilly air. "Yes sir," he said quietly.

Hook watched Edward settle himself down under the covers and eased himself down onto his left side beside the boy. He lifted his right arm and gestured for Edward to snug himself back against him.

Edward hesitated for a moment. He quickly chastised himself mentally for mistrusting the Captain's intentions for even one second, and scooched himself closer to his future adopted parent. His head rested in the crook of Hook's left arm and his maimed right arm settled around Edward's ribs. Edward pulled the covers up so only their respective heads remained exposed. Cautiously, he burrowed down and nestled his head back so it was tucked under the man's chin.

"Good lad," Hook murmured sleepily, allowing a smug smile to play on his lips. "Thank you, son."

"No problem," Edward mumbled. He lay in the dark, listening to the wind as it whined and moaned through the ship's rigging. He could feel the Captain's chest press against his back as the man inhaled and exhaled, his warm breath washing down through Edward's hair worked better than any tranquilizer Edward had ever taken. His mind began to wander and he wondered if anyone would miss him, after all. Surely by now his mailman had checked on him as he wasn't there to collect his mail from the box, which meant along with the police and the family he could not remember, animal rescue should have been contacted about his horse. He would be just another person who vanished from the face of the earth - without a trace

He tried very hard to go back to sleep; his eyelids felt as though they had iron weights on them. Yet every time he closed his eyes and tried to relax, Edward found himself once again feeling apprehensive and afraid, not of some nameless, faceless terror but of waking up to find he'd been snatched away from the Captain and miserably back home again - alone. He carefully wrapped his arms over Hook's and clung to the man's forearms.

"Are you still awake?," Hook drawled lazily.

"Yeah," Edward replied, then remembered his manners. "I mean, yes sir."

"For heaven's sake, why?" Hook yawned. He waited for what seemed ages before he got an answer. "Edward?"

"It just," Edward sighed, exasperated with himself. "I'm… I'm afraid to go back to sleep."

Hook opened one eye and peered out at Edward. "Whatever for?" he asked. "Surely you don't believe I would..."

"No sir!" Edward answered, quite emphatically. "Of course not. I wouldn't have laid down in the first place if I did."

Hook again waited on an explanation for seemingly endless minutes. "Are you worried you'll have another nightmare?"

"Sort of," Edward muttered, "Well, no not really. You're gonna think I'm stupid." He looked back over his shoulder at the Captain and into his piercing eyes. "I'm afraid I won't be here when I wake up, ok?" He flopped his head back down on his pillow."What do you mean?"

Edward sighed again. "I'm afraid that when I wake up I'll be back in my own house, or in my own woods, or somewhere other than here."

"But why should you?" Hook asked, mildly perplexed.

"I haven't got a clue how I got here in the first place. One minute I'm walking through my property, the next, poof - here I am."

Hook felt himself smile slightly. "I don't think you have anything to worry about. I am quite sure there are no faerie rings in my cabin nor on this ship."

Edward snorted. "Maybe not, but I'm just lucky like that, you know?" He felt Hook laughing before he heard him.

"Now then," Hook said reassuringly. "You don't have to worry about that. I've got you." He hugged the boy tightly and crooked his right knee across Edward's legs once more. He felt Edward sink back against him almost immediately as if it were something he'd done a thousand times before. Indeed, it all seemed strangely familiar to Hook and he smiled, quite satisfied with himself. He felt even more so when he heard Edward's low, steady snoring a short time later. It had become as familiar a sound as that of the waves that lapped at the sides of his ship and it had a calming, comforting effect on Hook that, along with the warmth from Edward's body, lulled the drowsy Captain into a peaceful and undisturbed sleep.