Let's go with a T/M for foul language and some blood and guts. Enjoy and please review, thanks.

Chapter 14

Captain Hook blinked sleepily and wondered what had awakened him. His head ached dully, but that was the price one paid for being up half the night. He stretched and reached for Edward, but his side of the bed was empty. Hook sat up and glanced around the room quickly, then spied the boy face down on the fainting couch. He eased from his bed and went to check on his son; the boy was still sleeping soundly so Hook covered him with the wool tartan, then opened his cabin door to let in some fresh air.

Mike noticed the open door and brought up the Captain's morning tea and scones. He chose not to mention that it was, actually, almost mid-day for both the Captain and his son had endured a rough night, and Mike considered himself far more tactful that Mr. Smee had ever been.

"How is he, sir," Mike asked, setting the Captain's breakfast before him.

Hook glanced over his shoulder towards the foot of his bed. "Exhausted, but none the worse on the whole."

"Well, that's good," Mike said softly, so as not to wake the sleeping boy. "He was one sick pup last night, he was."

"Aye," Hook agreed. He enjoyed his first sip of hot tea and decided he just might live after all. "Thank you for assistance, Mike. You were invaluable last night."

"Just doing my job, sir," Mike replied. "Will there be anything else sir?"

Hook shook his head. "No, thank you." He gestured towards Edward with his head. "I'll let you know if he needs anything when he wakes up."

"Aye sir," Mike saluted and excused himself from the room, leaving the Captain to his breakfast.

Hook turned his chair so he sat watching Edward. It still amazed him how all those buried memories came flooding back so quickly last night. Until that moment, he had no real recollection of his prior relationship with Edward whatsoever. He felt the corners of his mouth curve upwards into a smile. At the moment, Edward looked very much like the little boy he once was, but then so many men did when they were asleep and free from the cares of the world.

He wondered why the boy had seen fit to leave his bed and return to the couch. Hook didn't mind the company in bed, and he knew for certain that Edward felt safer when he was near him. He shrugged his concern off, deciding that the boy probably feared disturbing him; a ridiculous worry, but then Edward had always been exceedingly considerate of the Captain's feelings and comfort.

Hook set his tea cup down and sat stroking his beard, trying to make sense of what had happened to Edward. He could remember quite vividly the afternoon Edward's father had him taken away, how he had struggled to free the boy, and the crushing pain as he watched the boy vanish around some trees, whisked away in that strange white machine. Just thinking about it made the pain come boiling back up in his heart, rather like bile after a bad meal. And when he tried to conceive of the torture Edward had described, Hook felt cold chills creep up his spine to the back of his neck.

It was a wonder the boy had any memory of him left at all. Hook considered it an even greater miracle that Edward did not despise the sight of him, but he did not. On the contrary, for when Hook believed the boy should shrink from him in terror and hate, he clung fiercely to the Captain as though he feared someone might try to rip them asunder once more.

Hook knelt beside the fainting couch and gently shook Edward's shoulder to rouse the boy. "Edward," he said softly. "Wake up son."

Edward groaned and burrowed further under his cover at first. But he could feel Hook's hand resting on his shoulder and occasionally stroking his head, and his drowsy mind latched onto the rumble of the man's voice and followed it to the surface of his consciousness. He looked back over his shoulder at Hook and felt himself smile. "Morning," he mumbled sleepily.

"Barely," Hook chuckled. "Come have some breakfast before your tea gets cold, hmm?"

Edward stretched and yawned and rolled to a sitting position. He rubbed his bleary eyes and eased to his feet, not quite sure how steady his legs would be this morning. He felt Hook's arm go around his shoulders to guide him over to the desk. "Thanks," Edward said, squashing a yawn. He downed his first cup of tea quickly to chase the sleepiness from his brain.

"How do you feel?" Hook asked, offering the plate of scones to Edward.

"Better," Edward answered. He eyed the scones and hoped those were raisins and not dates inside; he didn't really care for dates. He glanced sheepishly across the desk to Hook. "Sorry about last night." he muttered. "I wasn't thinking."

"Not to worry," Hook said. "But if you ever do anything like that again I swear… You almost killed yourself."

"I'm sorry," Edward apologized. "I just wanted him to stop. Hateful little prick."

"I understand that," Hook sighed. "And as I said, I'm grateful for what you did. I despise that damned ticking. But did you even consider how I would feel if you had died?"

Edward stared at his feet and felt very ashamed of himself. The Captain was right; he hadn't even thought about that possibility. He'd been so wrapped up in finding the clock and beating the shit out of Pan - "I'm sorry, sir." He said quietly. "I just wasn't thinking clearly. I'll do better."

Hook reached across the desk for Edward's forearm. "Lad, I'm not angry with thee. Truly I'm not, but you gave me such a fright last night." He squeezed the boy's arm reassuringly. "I have just found my son again. I couldn't bear it if I lost you so quickly. That's all."

"O.k.," Edward said, locking eyes with Hook. "I'll be good. I promise."

"Good?" Hook echoed. He could hear similar words spoken by the boy long ago. "Child," Hook said gently. "You have never been anything but good where I was concerned." He looked into the boy's panicky eyes. "Have you not told me that you will never abandon me?'

"Yes sir," Edward said resolutely. "I mean, no sir. I mean - I wouldn't, I won't, not ever."

Hook tried not to chuckle as Edward stumbled over his words; the lad did get dreadfully flustered sometimes, he noted. "I know what you mean," Hook said. "I want you to listen carefully to me now, Edward."

"Yes sir."

"I will not send you away," Hook said firmly. "I know what happened to you, I know what your - father, such as he was, did to you. But I will not let anything like that happen ever again. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir," Edward answered solemnly. He felt his hands trembling a little and hid them in his lap. For an instant he could clearly see Hook, panic-stricken, standing in the gravel driveway of his childhood home, growing smaller and smaller through the rear window of the van. "I missed you so much," he whispered.

"There now," Hook soothed. "That's all over now. You're here with me and he can't hurt you anymore."

"I know," Edward said, almost apologetically. "It's just, sometimes I feel like I'm going to wake up and find myself back there, in that place. I get scared like I did when they used to…" His voice faded and he looked deeply into the intense blue eyes he'd seen in his dreams so often. "I love you," he said quietly.

"As I do you," Hook smiled reassuringly. "You were such a good boy."

"I dare say he would disagree with you," Edward muttered.

"Humph," Hook snorted. "I will never understand thy father, the bloody fool, or your mother for that matter. But, as I said, their loss is my good fortune." He shook his head. "They just didn't know how to handle thee. You never gave me a moment of trouble - worry maybe, but never trouble." He noticed Edward seemed to be lost somewhere beyond the wall he was staring at, and he reached for the boy's right hand. "You never were afraid of me, not even as a child. Not even on the day I met you - you were as bold and feisty as ever." He caught Edward's gaze and smiled at the boy. "I always admired you for that."

"Me?" Edward asked weakly.

"Of course," Hook said, pouring Edward another cup of tea. "And why not? You were far braver than most grown men I met. Come to think of it, you still are."

Edward ducked his head shyly and tried not to grin. "Thank you, sir," he said softly. He polished off the last of his scone and sat sipping the tea slowly.

Hook drained his own cup of the last of his tea. "Just remember," he said, "I'm here, and I won't let anyone take you away again. All right?"

"Yes sir," Edward nodded.

"Do you feel well enough to go outside?" Hook asked brightly.

"Yes sir."

Hook stood and stretched, driving the kinks away from his still-tired body. "I thought I'd inspect the ship and get some fresh air on deck. Come with me?'

"Yes sir," Edward answered, practically beaming with pride. He followed the Captain below to the gun room and then to the hold while Hook explained the importance of balancing the load in the ship. On deck, he walked beside and a half-step behind the Captain to show his respect for the man to the crew.

Edward wondered if he would ever get his strength back. He was sure he'd barely had twenty minutes of exercise but he was already feeling tired again. Reluctantly, Edward headed back into the Captain's cabin and lay down on the fainting couch to rest.

Hook stayed on deck for some time, over-seeing repairs to the rigging and maintenance on the cargo hoist, and it was mid-afternoon when he finally returned to his cabin to check on his son. He found Edward on the fainting couch, snoring softly and settled himself at his desk, enjoying a cigar while studying his sea charts.

The heavy, earthy smell of Hook's cigar seeped into Edward's subconscious mind and drew him back towards the surface of his sleep. He lay watching Hook for quite a while before he chose to speak. Edward propped himself up on one elbow and looked over at the Captain. "Sir," he said warily. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," Hook answered, not bothering to look up from the chart he was studying.

Edward swallowed hard and tried to steel himself. "I was wondering, actually, I've wondered for a long time…" his voice faded. He wasn't sure if he should ask such a personal thing of man.

Hook glanced up from his papers and looked towards Edward. The boy's mind seemed to have wandered again. "Yes?" he asked, waiting for the rest of Edward's question.

"Forget it," Edward mumbled. "It's really none of my business after all."

"What?" Hook asked again. He noticed Edward fidgeting nervously with the corner of his blankets. "Out with it lad," he insisted. "What's troubling thee?"

"Nothing," Edward said. "I just.. Really, I'm probably sticking my nose where it's got no business."

Hook got up from the desk and walked over to the fainting couch. He gave Edward's legs a nudge over and sat down on the edge of the couch. "Ask," he said quietly, though he was beginning to have an inkling of an idea where they were headed - at least he hoped he did. "Come on," he nudged the boy again. "I promise not to get annoyed with you."

Edward glanced up from under his eyebrows. "Well, if it is none of my business, just say so and I'll drop it."

"Very well," Hook agreed. He watched the boy working his nerve up.

"Well," Edward began. "You know, it said in the story - that is, when Mom read me the story…"

"Yes?"

"I always wondered," Edward hesitated and gave the Captain an anxious look.

"Go on," Hook insisted gently.

"Why - how did he, Pan that is," Edward coughed to steady his voice. "How did he, you know, do it?" His voice faded away to a bare whisper. "Your hand." He could feel his eyes burning and he looked away from the Captain quickly and wiped his eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I shouldn't have…"

"It's all right," Hook said softly. That was not quite the question he'd been expecting. He drew in a great breath to steel himself and let it slip slowly through his nostrils. "You've contemplated this for a long time, haven't you son?"

"Yes sir," Edward replied. He stared down at his covers, ashamed of himself now he had finally broached the subject.

"I remember how you used to try and puzzle it out yourself," Hook said. "All those time you sat with me and ran your hands over my arm, and the harness. I could see you trying to reconcile things on your own." He reached for Edward's chin and tilted the boy's face up to receive his warm smile. "You have always been a paradox to me. You were the most marvelously dreadful, naughty little boy, always ready to engage in skullduggery and mischief, whether you or I concocted it. Pirating was in your blood from birth, my boy."

Edward smiled and ducked his head. "Yes sir," he said. "Thank you."

"No lad," Hook said. "Thank you. Thank God for you, I don't know how else I would have retained any sanity. For while you were a wonderfully roguish child, you could be so - so thoughtful, so respectful, so uncritical. You have no idea how demoralized I was after Peter fed me to that beast. Once more I'd been humiliated in front of my men. They were losing their respect, or at least, their fear of me. I felt like a failure, unable to defeat a mere child, and they saw me as such. You treated me as if there were nothing wrong with me at all."

"Well there isn't," Edward snorted indignantly. "Besides, he cheats. Pan, that is."

Hook smiled at him again. "Thank you, lad." He sighed thoughtfully. "I do not, as a rule, discuss that event with anyone," he held his hand up to keep Edward silent. "But then you aren't just anyone, are you. And I suppose if anyone ever had a right to at least ask such of me, it would be you."

"If you don't want to…" Edward began.

"No," Hook broke in. "I think you should know. Dear Peter has spread the notion I lost my hand in a fair fight, and his story-teller has been his willing accomplice." He snorted. "The fight may have started fair, but considering that I was dueling Peter… But I should start at the beginning."

"You see, when I first came to this island, Neverland was not enchanted as it is now. It was as normal as any other spit of land I ever set my boots upon. Aside from the redskins and the animals, there were no other inhabitants. And it was so well hidden that I found it a safe harbor when I needed to, oh, make myself scarce for a time. I can't recall the number of times I took refuge here from his majesty's navy." He grinned at Edward and winked. "The Black Castle already existed, but it was in a deplorable state, so I restored and fortified it for my purposes, and used it as a store house for my treasure. After all, I had no fear of the savages stealing it. Treasure is of little use to them."

"So when did butt-head show up?" Edward asked. He scooched up on the settee so he sat with his knees drawn up, his crossed forearms resting on them.

"Peter arrived just before my last departure from this place, and with him the blasted faeries, the mermaids and the island's enchantment." Hook explained. "He was delighted to find pirates on the island and I'm sure he was disappointed when we sailed away, for of course then he had no one to provide him with adventures. Regrettably, we returned much sooner than I had originally planned as we ran into a wicked storm and had to turn back. I, naturally, planned on leaving again once our repairs were completed." He laughed bitterly.

"During my brief absence Peter had managed to persuade the redskins to ally with him against me. He also enlisted the mermaids, the faeries, even the bloody beasts were his willing accomplices. I returned to find myself an outcast in my own sanctuary." Hook paused and bit his bottom lip.

" Upon my return, I discovered the changes that had befallen my lovely refuge. At first, the redskins were reluctant to attack us, unprovoked, as we had never found cause to fire upon any of their tribe, and I thought Peter would be only a minor annoyance." Hook exchanged wry smiles with Edward, whose rapt attention he held captive. "I had gone to the castle with Smee and a handful of men with the intention of collecting the materials necessary to effect repairs to the ship, and to check on our supplies. Upon our arrival, however, I discovered not only dear Peter but his army of unwashed urchins plundering our stores and the treasure. The impudent boy actually had the gall to question what right I had to be in the castle. My castle, mind you."

"Little bastard," Edward snorted.

"Aye," Hook agreed. "Naturally, I took umbrage at his attitude and threatened to thrash his hide for him. It was then that Peter challenged me to a duel. Can you imagine my shock? This unruly imp, a mere child, and he challenges me? Captain James Hook, in my own castle?"

"I'd have shot him," Edward said flatly.

"I wish I had," Hook sighed. "I had the chance, but, it would have been bad form so…" He shook his head. "And for reasons known only to God, I accepted Peter's challenge, right there on the east tower. He was a terrible swordsman," Hook scoffed. "His skill has improved vastly thanks to his battles with me. Now there's some irony for you, eh?" He snorted with contempt. "I would have run him through instantly, except that, being Peter and therefore a coward, he flew out of harm's way, to my great consternation. Of course, he was so cocky, he engaged me repeatedly and I suppose he fought fairly in his own mind."

Hook grew quiet for some time and Edward watched him; the muscles in his jaw twitched several times and Edward saw him swallow hard. "If you don't want to go on," he said. "I understand."

"No," Hook sighed heavily. "Its all right." He cleared his throat. "It had been raining for days, as I said we ran into a dreadful storm. The stones under foot were quite slippery in places and as luck would have it my feet slid out from under me when I lunged at Peter. Out of instinct, I grabbed at the turret wall to keep myself from falling face first - I caught hold of the brick with my right hand. It made a perfect chopping block for Peter." He felt himself shudder at the memory.

"Being a mere boy," Hook continued, "Peter lacked the brute strength necessary to strike a clean, severing blow. Part of his blade somehow became wedged between two stone blocks, having only partially cleaved my hand from my body." He cut his eyes towards Edward. The boy had his chin resting on his knees, his eyes were glued on the Captain and there was a faint trail of moisture down his right cheek. Hook reached for the boy's left hand and clasped it tightly in his own.

"As Peter could not free the blade at first, he became frustrated and took to jumping on the hilt to drive blade through my arm. It took him three attempts…" he felt Edward cover their hands with his right and squeeze tightly. "Blood was everywhere - on the wall, the floor, on Peter. Some even spattered back on my own face. I vaguely remember screaming - and vomiting, in front of my men. I'm not sure which was worse, the pain or the humiliation."

He heard Edward's breath hitch and looked at him; the boy had his head down and turned away but he could clearly see Edward's face had flushed red to his ears. "It's all right lad, it was a long time ago."

"No it ain't all right," Edward objected. "It wasn't right at all. It was a rotten-ass, hateful thing to do, and there's no good reason for it at all." He sat up on the side of the couch beside Hook, wiping his face on his sleeve. "I'm sorry, I had no right to ask..."

"Nonsense," Hook huffed. "You had every right to ask." He rested his hand on the boy's right shoulder. "Of course you know the rest. Peter took my hand and flung into the swamp as a snack for his favorite crocodile. Smee, curse his soul, tied off the ragged end of my arm so I did not bleed to death and had me taken back to the ship where he nursed me back to health. I thought surely I would die, I wanted to die; I prayed for death. And like so many of my prayers, that one too, went unanswered."

"Sir?" Edward asked.

"I know," Hook groaned. "I should be grateful that Smee saved my life, but by doing so he trapped me here for all eternity. A living hell, quite literally."

"Peter, I am sure, thought I was beaten and done for and most likely had planned to finish me off at our next meeting. He did not realize that I am - was ambidextrous. I always preferred my right hand, but I am quite capable of defending myself with the left. But he left me trapped in this detestably imperfect body, maimed for life. And not only did Peter take my hand, he robbed me of my dignity and most of my memory. Even now, I can no more remember my true name than I could grow a new hand. For years, all I could remember was pain and misery, and hatred. And then, after all that, the little bastard fed me to that same damned crocodile."

He felt Edward's shoulders jerk. "Now then," he soothed. "It wasn't all that terrible, not really. And had he not, I would never have met you." He cupped his palm under Edward's chin and turned the boy's face back to him. "And that would be a tragedy now, wouldn't it?"

"Yes sir," Edward wheezed. He buried his face against the Captain and hugged the man.

"That's my good lad," Hook murmured. "And now you know."

"I'm sorry," Edward groaned. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't fret, lad," Hook said. "Peter has defeated himself by his own actions. He no longer has any hold over me, because of you. And I have you, because of him."

"So," Edward cleared his throat. "Basically, he screwed himself royally?"

"Aye, Edward," Hook smirked. "That he did."

Edward grinned wickedly. "He didn't even get a kiss , did he?" He winked a naughty wink at Hook.

"Not from me," Hook chuckled. He tousled the boy's hair. "I like a fellow with a good sense of humor, you know. Have I mentioned that before?"

"I think so," Edward nodded. "That's me. I've got your back."

"Good lad," Hook patted Edward's shoulder. "Now, I have a favor to ask of you."

"Sure," Edward said. "Anything."

"You once offered me the chance to fire your shotgun. I was wondering…"

"Yes sir," Edward smiled and hugged the man. "Just let me get my boots back on. You're gonna love it." He shoved his feet back into his boots and dug in his daypack for a box of buck-shot before practically pushing an amused Hook out the door to test fire 'sweet little sixteen'.

Edward closed his eyes and inhaled as much of the fresh air as his lungs could hold; the morning sun felt warm on his bare forearms. God, it felt good to be off the ship for a while, he thought. He'd been cooped up for over six days now and he'd been going stir-crazy. There was only so much sitting around and taking it easy he could handle.

He sat in the bow of Hook's longboat looking back towards the Captain, who sat at the rear as was his custom; Mike and Hopkins rowed the boat as usual. They were headed to the Black Castle to collect some of the last of the Captain's possessions he wished to take with him and the last of the dry goods from the pantry. Edward had been allowed to come along on the condition he was to do no work nor anything else that might overtax his system. He was feeling much better, though he still tired easily, and his stitches itched like crazy. He now wore the bandage at his neck specifically to keep himself from clawing at the annoying black sutures. They could not come out too soon, as far as he was concerned. He noticed Hook watching him and smiled back at the Captain.

"Enjoying yourself, I see," Hook remarked.

"Yes sir," Edward answered. "Very much. I appreciate your letting me come along."

"Well, see that you don't overdo it," Hook said. He noticed a pair of warriors near a tree, their canoe pulled up on the beach. "I see the redskins are keeping their part of the bargain well."

Edward watched them as the boat rowed passed; out of habit, he lay his right hand on the grip of his Ruger pistol, tucked in its shoulder holster under his left arm..

"Steady now, lad," Hook said. "They're no threat to us anymore."

"Yes sir," Edward answered. He did not remove his hand from the pistol though; he was still waiting for one of them to lob an arrow their direction. But it did not come and he soon relaxed. The salty, brackish smell of the sea filled his nostrils. It was a pleasant aroma, reminding him of vacations to…. to…. Oh hell, he thought, why did he have to forget the pleasant things, but the unpleasant memories seemed to hang on?

"How long before we go?" he asked, turning back towards Hook.

"Several more days at least," the Captain replied. "I want your stitches out first."

"Me too," Edward grinned, mock-scratching at his neck. He noticed the corners of Hook's mouth flick upwards a brief moment; so what if he was forgetting most, if not all, of his former life - who needed it anyway.

Hook regarded his son; he seemed quite at home on the water. He had needed to remind Edward of the dangers of letting one's limbs hang out over the water -his crocodile was dead but there plenty others about, and sharks, and then there were always the mermaids to worry about. Hook was sure they'd like nothing better than to drown his son and leave him trapped here with Pan for all eternity.

The boy was doing much better, Hook noted. His color was improving and his strength was returning gradually. Edward had actually survived two nights without any night-mares, for which the Captain was thankful. Seeing his son so distraught and knowing the cause of his misery only served to infuriate Hook. But that cat was out of the bag now, and maybe the boy would not be so haunted by his past, he hoped.

The Black Castle came into view as the procession of boats rounded a curve in the coastline. Edward felt himself shudder at the sight of the imposing fortress; the night he'd spent there had not been the most pleasant one. He smiled slightly; not quite three weeks since he had been here and what changes he'd been through. The first time he'd seen the castle he'd been convinced he was caught deep in a hallucination. Now he realized that the only trick his mind had ever played on him was to hide reality deep in his sub-conscious and have it relabeled as fantasy. He looked up at the immense iron gate, raised high over the mouth of the sea cave as the boat passed beneath it. Once all three boats were inside a crewman lowered the gate again and a huge chain was padlocked over the gears to keep anyone from setting the longboats adrift.

Edward stepped out first, tying the boat soundly to its moorings, then held the boat steady while Hook and the others disembarked. Hook scanned the cave, shaking off the unpleasant memories associated with the place. He cast an especially baleful glare towards the gargoyle's hand, in which he'd once taken refuge from his ticking tormentor.

"What?" Edward asked. "You see something?" He reached for the pistol butt again.

"Only a ghost from the past," Hook murmured. He turned to the crew. "Look alive, you dogs. We haven't got all day." He lead the procession up the long dark hallway with Edward close behind. Mike carried a torch to light the way and the rest of the crew followed, with the exception of Hopkins, left behind to watch the boats.

The dining hall looked much different to Edward in the daylight than it had illuminated by torchlight; it was fairly bright and airy and not in the least spooky. Hook set the crew to gathering anything that might be of use to them, or that could be pilfered by Pan and his irksome hoard. Certain excess items - flour, beans, blankets - were set aside to be given to the redskins as a last gesture of goodwill for their help with Edward's wounds and the protection of the crew. Once this work was well under way, the Captain headed for his upstairs suite, again with Edward at his heels.

"Do you feel strong enough to help me with a few light items, son?" Hook asked as they climbed the stairs.

"I don't see why not," Edward answered. The stairs seemed to have multiplied though, since his last visit and he began to feel out of breath. "Hang on a minute, sir." He reached for Hook's shoulder to steady himself.

"What's the matter?" Hook asked; he noted the boy's obvious fatigue. "Maybe you should go back and wait in the boat."

"Uh-uh," Edward shook his head. "I want to stay with you. I just need to catch my breath."

Hook waited until Edward no longer sounded like a panting hound, then proceed more slowly up the last dozen or so steps. Torchlight flooded the room and the flames made dancing specters appear on the walls. Hook went over to his bookcase and set three leather-bound volumes aside along with a large book of sheet music. These he deposited into a leather satchel to be slung over his shoulder. "Edward, come here," he said softly.

Edward left the window he'd been staring out and crossed to where Hook waited. "Sir?" he asked.

Hook gestured towards a dust covered violin on the mantle of the room's large fireplace. "Have you ever played before?"

"Ages ago," Edward chuckled. "I was in band at school a couple of years. I'm sure I'm a bit rusty."

"It's mine," Hook explained, almost ruefully. "I haven't been able to play it since…" He held up his claw. "But it's yours if you'd like."

"Yes sir," Edward answered in a low whisper. "Thank you sir."

"On the condition that you play for me," Hook said, "Once your hand is mended thoroughly, of course."

Eddie grinned broadly and waggled his left thumb; the full range of motion had not come back yet, but at least it was moving now. "Sure thing," he said. He carefully place the instrument into its case. "What else?" he asked.

Hook looked around the room. There were several pieces of furniture he'd like to take along, but there really wasn't room for them on the ship. "I believe that's everything," he sighed. He slung the bag containing his books over his left shoulder and headed back downstairs, his right arm across Edward's shoulders. Most of the cargo to be loaded on the ship had already been moved to the boats, and Hook walked around the hall as if telling the castle goodbye.

"This fortress had provided me with refuge on many an occasion," he said to Edward. "I can't say I have fond memories of the place, though they were not entirely unpleasant times either." He sighed and rejoined Edward, locking the doors behind them.

They emerged from the corridor and started towards the boat. Edward felt the hair at the back of his neck prickle and froze in his tracks, scanning the cave for any signs of intruders.

"What is it?" Hook asked quietly.

"Something's not right," Eddie answered. "The air has an odd feel to it."

"Pardon?" Hook queried.

"It's the same sort of feeling I get sometimes when I'm deer hunting… like something is watching me, only not in a friendly way this time."

The words had barely passed Edward's lips when Peter and the Lost Boys sprang into their attack, appearing from behind every rock and shadowy crevice. Edward instinctively started forward, reaching for his pistol. He barely made a half-step when he felt Hook's hand clamp down on his right shoulder.

"Edward!" the Captain said sternly. He felt Edward halt in mid-lunge and fall back to stand beside him. "Good lad." Hook said.

"Well hello, Captain Codfish," Peter jeered from high atop the gargoyle. "I've come to collect what's mine."

"And what would that be?" Hook drew his sword.

"Why your left hand, of course," Peter taunted. "I need it for my collection. A matched set."

"I think not!" Edward roared. "You little prick!" He drew the Ruger and chambered a round.

"Oh don't worry," Peter sneered. "I intend to finish what Mr. Smee started." He drew his thumb across his own throat.

Hook shoved Edward behind him before the boy had a chance to answer. "Over my dead body, you cowardly dog!" he hissed.

"That, I can arrange," Peter grinned. He dove down towards Hook locking swords with the Captain and their duel began, proceeding quickly out onto the ramparts.

Meanwhile, the Lost Boys sprang into battle with the remaining pirates. Edward had the wind knocked out of him, the Captain had shoved him with such force, and it took a moment for him to join the fray. A skinny boy with curly black hair, Skeeter, charged at him brandishing a sword. Edward drew down on the boy and set the laser sight between his eyes. Skeeter's head snapped back violently impact; the rest of his body followed like a sack of horse feed.

"Obviously you never saw Raiders of the Lost Ark, did you now?" Edward chuckled. He scanned the cave for Hook before realizing the man had chased Pan outside. The pirates were handling the other boys quite nicely. Robert Mullins fell Chuckles, and Guinness took out Stinkweed. Wrong Way and Knuckles fell victim to Bainbridge and Hopkins, respectively. The last two, Carrots and Mohawk, scurried out through a hole in the wall like the rats they were, dodging a hail of bullets as they went. The empty clip dropped into Edward's waiting hand and he shoved it into his trouser pocket, retrieving a full clip from the holster. He bounded towards the stairs that led outside.

"You be careful there," Mike called up, motioning to the others to follow him. "You know what the Captain told ye."

Edward whirled and put his hand out to halt Mike's progress. "I am being careful, all right? I'm not gonna overdo it, trust me."

Mike raised a dubious eyebrow. "You won't help him if ye make yourself sick again."

Edward sighed, exasperated. "You wait here, don't let anyone else out. We don't want those two to come back and swamp the boats, you know." He trotted more slowly up the stairs towards the fortress's crumbling watchtower and eased out past the iron gate to watch the duel transpiring before him in the mid-day sun.

The Captain was by far the better swordsman; he had a deceptively wicked riposte, which Edward had yet to counter effectively during his lessons. Coupled with his lighting-quick lunge and superior foot work and technique, Hook would have killed any other opponent on their first meeting. But Pan was no normal opponent; Edward could see that more clearly than ever. When any other man would have been run through or, at the least, disarmed, Peter would take to the air and soar out of harm's way, returning to take a less than sporting swipe at the Captain.

Edward felt an old familiar sense of fear and dread wash over him as he watched; his stomach rolled and chills shot down his spine. Peter seemed to be trying to lure Hook out onto the less stable portions of the watchtower's floor. At some time, whole sections had fallen away into the pounding surf below; the weight of a full-grown man could easily bring down another section, sending him plunging to his death in the rocky ocean below. To interfere in the Captain's fight, even on his behalf, would surely bring his wrath upon Edward, but he would rather take a flogging from Hook than lose him to Peter. Pan was a devious little cheat in Edward's mind, and there were no other observers to possibly tarnish Hook's self-image. He slapped the fresh clip into the pistol and chambered a round; the noise caught the dueler's attention.

"You'll get your turn!" Peter menaced.

Edward settled the red dot at the base of Pan's throat and started easing sideways towards Hook. "Just try it," he growled in a low voice.

"Get back inside at once!" Hook insisted. "That's an order."

"Please sir, Edward said, "Let me explain." He drew himself close to Hook's left side and looked straight into the piercing blue eyes. "Can't we just go home?" he asked.

"Do what?" Hook queried, shocked.

"Yes sir," Edward continued. "Let's just go. He's trying to lure you out to the edge so you'll fall. I watched him try it several times in just the past few minutes. Let's just go back to the ship and leave the cheating little bastard to his own devices."

"Excuse me?" Peter interrupted. "Are you accusing me of foul play?"

Edward cut his eyes towards Pan. "Duh? Real genius, aren't you?"

"How dare you!"

"Would you shut up?" Edward snapped. "I wasn't even talking to you. But since I am now, yes, you're a filthy little cheat. You couldn't fight fair with your feet nailed to the ground. Hell, you couldn't fight your way out of a paper bag without someone else's help."

"What rot!" Peter seethed. "How dare you insult my honor!"

"Honor?" Edward echoed. "Bah! You don't know its meaning. You wouldn't know true honor if it jumped up and bit you on the ass. It offends me to hear you even utter the word. "

"Edward!" Hook chided.

"No sir," Edward turned his attention back to the Captain. "He has never fought fair - not once! He didn't when he maimed you. He didn't when you fought here before, and he certainly didn't when he sent you to…." he hesitated. Even thinking about it made him so mad he wanted to scream. "He's always had someone to help, some one or some thing to distract you so he can escape. It's not right and it never has been. And on top of everything else, I'm just waiting for whoever or what ever to pop out any moment." He swung around and glared at Peter. "And when they do I'm emptying the magazine in them." Edward waggled the pistol at Peter to emphasize his point.

"Calm down son," Hook said.

"He is not!" Peter yelled. "Stop calling him that! And I have never cheated in my life - never!"

Edward bluff-lunged at Peter, smirking as the imp leapt backwards. "Oh really? Let me refresh that convenient memory of yours. I suppose you call deliberately hacking off the hand of an opponent fair; I don't, especially when there was no cause for it aside from your rotten hatefulness. I guess you'd also say those clever escapes of yours were fair also, eh"

"What escapes?" Peter snorted. "I get away because I'm young and clever, and Hook is old and slow."

"Oh what a load of USDA bullshit," Edward countered. "You're telling me when the Captain had you down, in this very place and was about to slit you open, that overgrown pair of boots-on-the-hoof interfering wasn't cheating?"

"Of course not," Peter answered. "I'm not responsible for what the crocodile does - did."

"Whoa there," Edward sputtered. "Don't go pissing down my back and call it rain." He shook his head with disgust. "So I suppose the fact that the only reason you're still alive today is due to the interfering ways of that fickle little twit…"

"Don't you dare talk about Wendy like that!" Peter menaced, pointing his sword towards Edward.

Oh please," Edward snorted. "She wasn't nothing but a naïve little girl with a terminal case of puppy love. In any case, You have lost at least two and maybe three fights to…" Edward paused and looked over his shoulder to Hook. Hook proudly claimed him as his son, yet he had neglected to do the same. He had no reasons; the feelings were definitely there and he most certainly was not ashamed of the man. Far from it; he would gladly have traded his own father for Hook in a heartbeat. He would have given anything to be spirited away by the Captain all those years ago. He smiled at Hook "…to my father and you should be dead already, except that someone always seems to come along and get you out of the actual execution phase."

"That's a lie!" Peter roared. "And he is not your father! He's nothing but a …" Peter stopped mid-sentence; that red dot was back at the base of his throat again.

"I'd shut up if I was you," Edward said in a dangerously quiet voice. "I don't take too kindly to you casting aspersions on my father. I still have plans to castrate your sorry ass, you know."

Hook felt his heart swelling with pride. Father; what a wonderful feeling of approbation hearing the title brought. Finally Edward had said it; said it with such respect and affection there could be no doubt of the boy's sincerity - and Pan had heard it, and he could do nothing to take this victory away. Hook reached for Edward's shoulder and felt the boy shaking with rage. "Let me handle this, son," he said softly. "You need to calm down."

Edward looked into the Captain's blue eyes very hard. "Sir," he pleaded softly. "Please. When I was five I thought you died and it broke my heart. I found you again, but when I was sixteen they took you away from me and built a wall between us. It took me twelve years to find you again… twelve years." He tried hard to hold Hook's gaze, but he could feel his ears starting to burn and his throat tightening. Edward ducked his head so Hook would not see the tears brimming on his eyelids. "I don't think I can survive losing you again," he whispered. "I don't think I want to."

Hook reached for Edward's chin with his claw, gently tilting the boy's face up so he might look into those steady eyes, except they were scared; he could see the panic seething inside the boy. He'd seen it before, when Edward had looked back at him so desperately from inside that peculiar carriage - the one that had whisked the boy away and out of the Captain's life for so long.

Hook bit his lower lip; Edward looked positively ill again. He'd gone quite pale and was still shaking slightly. "I can take him, son," he whispered to Edward. "Trust me."

"I know you can," Edward choked. "But I still don't trust him. I wouldn't trust that little popcorn fart anywhere near an outhouse, muzzled or not. You said it yourself. He's not worth it. If anything was to happen to you… Please. Can't we just go?"

Hook stole a quick glance towards Pan. The brat was growing impatient and was visibly irked at the thought of being ignored; it was a capital idea. "Perhaps you are correct, son," Hook said it just to piss Peter off; he was not disappointed with the result either.

"You have no son!" Peter roared angrily. "Now raise your sword and finish this!"

Edward raised the pistol and the red dot settled on the bridge of Peter's nose. His finger twitched on the trigger… but he did not fire. "You shut the fuck up and bugger off, do you hear me?" he snarled. "And don't you ever, ever come near my father again. Ever!"

Peter roared with rage and raised his sword to strike at Edward; something hissed passed his right ear and set it on fire. He dropped his blade and howled in pain. "You shot me!" Blood dripped from Peter's right earlobe onto his shoulder. "Bad form" Peter spewed.

"I didn't shoot you," Edward said. "Just sort of bobbed your ear, that's all." He felt Hook's hand on his right forearm.

"That's enough," Hook said firmly. "Let's go." He pushed the boy's arm down from its threatening position, maintaining his grip until he heard Edward lower the pistol's hammer.

"Yes sir," Edward said meekly, allowing the man to steer him away from Pan, towards the doorway and back inside. "Besides," he remarked, glancing over at Peter on last time, "You'd be dead if that's what I wanted." Edward made his way down the slick steps gingerly, the Captain's hand remaining on his shoulder to steady the both of them, and also to keep him under control, he figured. Only when they were at the boats did Edward re-holster the Ruger.

"Good lad," Hook said as he stepped down to the longboat. "And good shot also."

"Thanks," Edward grinned, setting the satchel and violin case in the boat. He started to re-take his seat at the bow but Hook gestured for Edward to come sit beside him. His butt had barely hit the seat when Peter appeared next to boat with his foot on the mooring rope, sword in hand.

"Where do you think you're going!" he demanded. "I'm not through with you yet!"

Hook opened his mouth to answer but instead erupted in howls of laughter. Peter, it seems, had not noticed he was standing straddle of one of the oar's handles… and Mike had stomped on the blade end, sending the handle hurtling up into Peter's crotch. The sword hit the rocks with a clank, followed moments later by a groaning Pan in a fetal position. Edward leaned against Hook, laughing hysterically.

"That's the funniest damned thing I've seen in ages," Edward said, gasping for air. "Good on you, Mike."

"Agreed," Hook chuckled heartily. "Good show indeed."

Mike grinned as he rowed the craft from the cave and out into the open ocean. "It was too good a chance to pass up, sir."

Peter lay on the cold, damp stones trying not to puke, quite sure he would die any moment now. He heard Hook and Edward, still howling with laughter, and vowed revenge. Not only had they ruined his fun, they had killed most of his troops, and he wondered if he would ever walk again; he was sure Mike had broken something.

Hook leaned against the stern of the boat and glanced at Edward, who was still laughing under his breath at Pan's comeuppance. He could not help but smile; he still had no idea what had set Edward so on edge and driven him to stop the duel, but his assertion of the Captain as his father far outweighed any potential embarrassment Hook might have felt. He slid his left arm around Edward's shoulders and felt the boy lean against him slightly.

Edward heaved a great sigh and Hook gave the boy's shoulders a squeeze of reassurance.

Hook could hardly bear the wait until they left Neverland. It would only be a few more days, yet to Hook is seemed like months. It would be a rare pleasure indeed to have his son beside him on the rolling deck of the ship at full sail, and he ached to look from the ship and see nothing but the wide expanse of open ocean instead of the cursed island. Oh, to feel the rush of battle, to see the fear in his enemy's eyes just before he ran them through, to feel the thrill of the kill - and to have Edward at his side. Hook looked at Edward again and his heart swelled with pride once more. Smee may have doubted the boy's sincerity, but then Smee never had been the brightest of sixpences. Hook had no doubts that Edward would indeed follow him straight into Hell if necessary, without a moments hesitation, roaring his war-cry and slashing demons with every step; pity the poor Devil, Hook thought.