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Chapter VI:
Forget-Me-Nots

Emily opened her eyes to find herself tied up in familiar white sheets. She stared blankly at the fire crackling on the far side, and then noticed the Captain sitting at his desk with a quill in hand; the sound of scratching on paper filling the room.

Her body felt heavy. Her head pounded in her ears. Her mind was cloudy.

She was exhausted, and not just physically, but also mentally.

Her chest felt hollow – like her heart had been ripped out and all that sat was a black void.

She just wanted to be home so badly.

In a moment of sudden defeat, she buried her face in the pillow and began to cry.

Hook looked up when he heard soft sounds of sniffling coming from the bed. When he realized the blonde was crying, he rushed over and knelt down by the bed in front of her. He looked her over for any reason for discomfort, and when he realized her body was okay, he frowned and moved his gaze to hers.

"You're awake..." his voice was low and tender.

She made no response. Instead, she looked to him with weary eyes as a few tears trailed over her cheeks. They were red and puffy from her crying, with dark circles of fatigue faintly making their permanent mark on her skin. When Jukes was giving her stitches along her stomach, he could tell from earlier that she also hasn't been eating much, or properly, at all. The land and the circumstances she found herself in finally taking their very toll on her.

He made 'tsk' sounds with his tongue as he pulled a white handkerchief from his sleeve and dabbed the tears off her cheeks.

"Now, now," he cooed, swiping up the last bit of tears, "we'll have none of that."

She closed her eyes as she felt the cloth rub against her cheeks. She then snapped them open when a sudden realization hit her, and she quickly pulled the sheets off of her. Looking down, she could see that the lower half of her bloody shirt was torn off and around her left hip, a few black stitches in its place.

"You were lucky," Hook murmured, following her eyes to the injury, "arrow wounds are usually fatal."

He stood up from his spot and went to grab the pitcher and basin. Emily watched him grimly as he poured the water into the bowl, and then make his way back over. This time, he took a spot on the bed beside her and rung out the clean cloth, carefully dabbing it over the injury.

"Got to keep it clean," he instructed, moving his eyes back to hers.

She gave him a small acknowledgeable smile and a slow nod.

"Thank you..." she finally sighed. "For saving my life...twice."

She could see from his face a conflict of emotion, but then it finally relaxed as he placed the cloth back into the bowl of water. He took in a deep breath.

"You saved my life too," Hook reminded her, "I was almost crocodile food."

She curled her lips timidly at him, "A girl does what she can, Captain."

He let out a chuckle and moved the sheets back over her.

"Try to get some rest," he said.

The first mate hastily followed behind the Captain as he paced around the deck. He was still baffled over the incident that took place in the jungle involving the Tick-Tock Crocodile.

"I'm telling you, Smee, she spoke to the crocodile!" Hook exclaimed as he plopped down at his desk. "And it not only understood her but it listened."

Smee furrowed his brows as he tried his best to understand him.

"She spoke to the crocodile?" Smee repeated.

"Yes!" he confirmed, raising a cigar to his mouth and took in a deep inhale. "There's something peculiar about her...I don't know what though. First the mermaids, and then this..."

"Jeez Cap'n, do you think maybe she's like Pan?" Smee suggested.

The Captain took another inhale as he got up and stood looking out at the mysterious island in front of him.

"Don't be stupid," Hook spat. "Pan is an inhabitant of Neverland. She's an outsider."

However, out of all the years' Hook spent in Neverland, he did come to one absolute conclusion: Neverland was some sort of a magical dimension. The one downfall about that is that magic has no boundaries or laws. And he hated it.

Peter Pan was already a riddle to him – he was a boy that could fly, mimic sounds, has keen vision and hearing... Even he was able to talk to all of Neverland's inhabitants and beasts, but all those skills came to him over his time living on the island.

So how she was able to possess such skill in such a short period was a mystery to him...

How was it even possible...?

She lied in bed staring at the ceiling. The rush of everything finally sinking in.

She wondered why it had taken 5 days for everything to settle.

Perhaps it was the sudden realness of experiencing excruciating pain that she comprehended that this wasn't a dream and that she wasn't dead...unless death was some cruel joke.

But no, she was beginning to realize that there was some truth to her mother's stories.

They weren't just only children's fairy tales. They were...real.

Her mind spun in circles; repeating the event over and over again with the crocodile.

The beast called her by the name of 'Cove', and even went as far as referring to her as 'siren'. He claimed that he recognized her by her scent, but that couldn't be possible. She had never been to Neverland before; she spent her entire life growing up in London.

She kept coming back to her mother's stories...

It had been over a decade since she last heard a Peter Pan tale. As she lied buried in the sheets, her brain tried to search its deepest depths to uncover what it could remember about the boy who never grew up.

She wondered if maybe she could share all of this with Captain Hook; surely, he may have some answers, or even be willing to help? But what if he deemed her insane? Even she felt insane about all of it... It was already difficult enough to convince him that she spoke with the mermaids...would he believe her about the crocodile too? And who was even this 'Cove' that the beast mentioned? Would Hook even know who she is?

Her thoughts were interrupted when there was a knock on the door.

"Come in!" she called out.

Emily slowly sat up in bed to see Smee walking in carrying a tray with a bowl of soup. He walked to her side and placed the tray on the nightstand.

"Glad to see you doing well, Miss," Smee said, picking up the bowl and placing it in her hands. "Chef made his specialty soup for you – garlic and mushroom!"

The blonde scrunched her nose and gave Smee a pained smile – she hated mushrooms. She always thought they tasted like dirt. But she still gave him a thankful nod and lifted the spoon to her lips, taking the smallest slurp as possible. She was beginning to rethink her 'stuck in purgatory' theory; maybe God was mad at her.

She averted her eyes to see Smee sitting in a chair right by the bed, just...waiting. For what?

"Um, thank you, Mr. Smee..." Emily finally said.

"You're welcome, Miss!"

Another pause.

Emily shuffled in her spot awkwardly, "Oh, you don't need to stay, I'll be okay on my own..."

"Oh, the Cap'n told me to make sure you eat every last drop!" he said with a grin.

The spoon dropped from her hand, and her brow twitched at the thought. The Captain was treating her like a child, and she was going to have to finish the god-awful soup.

Yep, I'm in hell. She mentally groaned.

She continued to eat slowly and painfully in front of him. Smee just continued to blabber on – trying to fill the emptiness and awkwardness of the room.

"The crew is very thankful you're okay, Miss," he said, "I've never seen the Cap'n so worried before either."

Emily looked up curiously from her meal. It felt like Smee and Jukes were hinting at the same thing to her; and if anyone were to confirm anything, it would be Smee, since he was Hook's first mate.

"Really?" she asked intriguingly, looking back down at her food.

Smee nodded, "Oh yes!" his voice then went into a whisper, "Between you n' me Miss, I think the Cap'n...really likes you."

She sat silently as she stared at her reflection in the cream of mushroom. Why did he feel the need to tell her that? Surely, he was just trying to put a thought in her head... Besides, it's not like she really gave it much thought herself. A proper lady and a pirate captain? Preposterous! She was positive that the Lord was looking down at her in disappointment over the idea.

Besides, even if they were to...

In the end, she would still return home to London, and he would still be a pirate. The modern world would be no place for him. Nor, would her father really even allow it to happen in the first place...

Oh God, what was she thinking?

Emily handed the empty bowl back to Smee. She bid him a thank you and goodnight as she buried herself back under the covers.

At this point, Emily figured she was qualified to be considered an insomniac.

As much as her body and mind craved sleep, it had yet to still arrive.

She lied in bed for hours, eventually starting to count the ticks of the clock. Smee had left her to rest at around 5:00 p.m., and it was now only 12. Emily took in a deep inhale and went to move up from the bed.

Smee had given the girl orders that she was to be bedridden for the next couple of days, but she figured that it couldn't hurt to exercise her legs just a little bit. She winced as she stood up – a mixture of pain from her stitches and the stiffness of her body for not moving in over a day – and wrapped herself in the blanket as she shuffled around the room.

Emily first stopped in front of the mirror. She frowned as she took in the details of her worn-out face – the bags under her eyes, the hollowness of her cheeks, the small gash that laid over her right brow... Her reflection alone almost made her want to cry.

She didn't recognize that girl at all.

She moved away from the mirror, and thought back to her first day on the Jolly Roger, stopping in the exact spot where Hook saw her for the first time in his cabin – wrapped up in his housecoat, her hair wet and thrown up into a bun... Smee's words echoed in her head and she tried to recall the way Hook first looked at her...how he seemed almost stunned but awe-struck...

Emily shook her head and strolled over to the harpsichord. She gave it a peculiar look as she gripped the blanket tightly around herself as her other hand trailed over the ebony-oak wood over to the ivory keys. She had never seen one so beautiful and to be such an antique.

The next thing she knew, she was sitting in front of it.

Her hand fiddled with the keys gently as her heart fought a melancholic feeling. She couldn't remember the last time she played any type of music – she couldn't even find the desire to sing. There had never been a day that she went without creating some type of musical note...

She felt like she was a bird in a cage...but then what was the cage...?

Her hand stopped. Emily gave the harpsichord one long stare before her hands seemed to have found their way to the keys again, itching...begging her to play.

And soon, a melody passed its way through her fingers...

It was a sad tune, and the words she wished to sing just sat like a tight lump in a throat.

Suddenly, the door of the cabin swung open. Emily's playing came to a halt as she saw the Captain making his way over to her. She hurriedly dropped her hands in her lap and swallowed hard as Hook stood in front of her with an angered, unimpressed look on his face. No one should ever dare to touch his precious harpsichord.

He snapped at her, "My Dear, do not touch my–"

His face fell when he realized she was crying. He took a spot down beside her and raised a hand to brush her tears away.

Even she didn't realize she was crying.

After a moment, Hook sighed and finally broke the silence.

"You should be sleeping," he scolded gently, resting his hand on her chin.

"I can't..." she whispered. The hot tears began to fall faster from her eyes.

Hook continued to wipe away the tears that kept pouring over her cheeks.

The blonde started to get embarrassed over the emotional wreck she had become. She especially didn't like crying in front of him – she felt pathetic and melodramatic. She did her best to slow the tears and after a while, she eventually moved her chin from his grasp and brushed them away herself.

"You were playing..." Hook stated matter-of-factly.

Emily looked up at him confused. She then realized he was trying to change the topic for her benefit.

He cleared his throat, "Would you like to continue playing?"

She shook her head no.

He nodded in understanding and got up from the bench. Without a second thought, Hook slipped his arm around her shoulders and his hook carefully under her knees, picking her up, and then carried her over to the bed. Emily let out a small cry of protest as he placed her down on the mattress. She didn't want to be in bed. What was the point if she couldn't sleep?

Hook sat on the bed beside her in distress, watching as her lower lip began to quiver and her eyes starting to swell with tears. Finally, he had enough.

"Enough," Hook said sternly, once again brushing the tears off her cheeks, "You're exhausted. If there was something beyond sleep deprivation, you would be it." His tone started off harsh but then softened by the time he hit the rest of the sentence.

He pulled the blanket tightly over her, "Try to get some sleep."

Hook stood up and tread his way to the door.

"Please don't go," she wept.

He stopped in his tracks, alarmed that she begged for such a thing. He slowly turned around to look at the fatigued blonde.

"Please..."

The Captain let out a deep sigh as he knelt down beside the bed so that he was eye-level with her. A frown tugged at the end of his lips as he struggled to figure out how he could help her – for telling her to simply 'sleep' wasn't going to fix whatever it was that she was going through.

"What do you need?" he finally asked.

She didn't know why she found it a strange question for her to hear from him. Perhaps because it wasn't a 'what would you like' or 'what can I get for you', but a 'what do you need'.

What did she need?

All she knew was that she wanted to be held. To be told everything will be okay. That she wasn't alone.

Could she ask him for these things?

How could she ask him for these things?

Without another word, her eyes slowly trailed over to the bookcase that sat past him. Hook watched her gaze and followed it to what she was looking at. Without missing a beat, he grabbed Utopia and sat down on the bed, pressing his back up against the headboard with Emily lying beside his thigh.

For once, her mind silenced. It stayed occupied with the sound of Hook's voice reading to her.

And for the first time since she arrived in Neverland, she was finally able to sleep through the night.

He didn't know when she fell asleep, but he was nervous that if he stopped talking, she would wake up.

So, he kept going.

He didn't know when she curled up close beside him, but he was nervous that if he moved, she would wake up.

So, he kept still.

Eventually, he just watched her in silence; her nose buried tightly in between his leg and the comforter – her cheeks had raised to a slight pinkish colour, and her tousled curls sprawled out and covered her face... He didn't even realize that her hand had found its way to his knee; gripping the excess fabric tightly in her grasp.

Hook raised a hand and tenderly pushed the curls out of her face. His fingers trailed over the delicate features; they traced gingerly over her hair, to her eyes, her nose…to her cheek...to her lips...

He hoped her dreams were as beautiful as her.

By the time Emily awoke the next day, it wasn't because of the sun, but of Mr. Smee dumping water into the large metal tub.

She peered her eyes from the pillow over to Smee who was humming a happy tune, placing towels and the familiar housecoat out for her. She turned her eyes to the clock that read 1:00 p.m. and she let out a surprised gasp – was she asleep this whole time?

"Morning Miss!" Smee greeted, smiling.

"Morning Mr. Smee," she yawned, giving her back a nice stretch; being careful as to not pop any stitches.

"I'm sorry to wake you Miss, but the Cap'n figured it was time that you bathed and eat. Perhaps get a bit of fresh air since you've been in this cabin for a couple of days."

She gave him a tired nod and watched as he went to head out.

"Breakfast will be out on the deck when you're ready," he informed her.

And with that, the door clicked behind him.

Emily giggled to herself as she looked at her reflection; it exactly as if she was back on the first day on the Jolly Roger. Her wet curls once again tossed into a bun and wrapped tightly in the Captain's cozy and elegant housecoat.

The only physical changes were the scar that has formed over her right eyebrow, how her cheeks had sunken just ever-so-slightly from the lack of nutrients, and the dark circles that seemed to have only just begun to fade away thanks to the sleep she was finally allowed. But of course, all that is just only physically. Her mentality had changed so much too.

She found it interesting how much a week could make such a difference in one's life.

She figured on the first day that it was going to be a simple rescue and an easy trip home. But that quickly turned into a week of things leaving her asking questions every which where.

The hymn... The mermaids... The crocodile...

She took a look down at the stitches along her hip and inhaled a deep breath. For the time being, she knew that she needed to give herself time to heal first, physically and mentally. She couldn't simply go out seeking answers now for the risk of getting an infection would be high...or worse. And strangely, a part of her was okay with it. She didn't hate being on the ship – the men were so sweet to her (though, she does think Murphy can go suck on a lemon), and the Captain had gone out of his way to make sure she felt safe and comfortable; fed and bathed; gave her a place to sleep and relax. He had been more than generous.

But how embarrassed she was that she cried in front of him...on more than one occasion. He had done his best to give her everything and anything, and yet her world still held no joy.

She remembered her mother telling her how men are often moved by a woman's tears – but she didn't know by how much or if it was even true. Now thinking about it, it was possible her tears were why he had been so gentle and attentive with her.

Or perhaps...

Emily finally made her way outside.

"Aye! She lives!" Jukes called out from across the ship.

She gave him a smirk and rolled her eyes, "Just barely."

He walked alongside her to the desk where a platter of various fruit and tea sat waiting for her, along with a bundle of Forget-Me-Nots tied together with a string. She moved her eyes around the deck but frowned when she didn't find Hook.

"Where's the Captain?" she asked as she popped a grape in her mouth.

"He went to shore with some crew for inventory," he answered. "They messed up last time."

"...didn't you do it last time?"

"Hence, why I'm here this time."

She picked up the bundle of flowers and smiled, "How sweet of Noodler to get me flowers again."

"Oh, those aren't from Noodler," he corrected.

Emily furrowed her brows, "...Murphy?"

Jukes smirked, "Guess again."

A slight pause.

"...You?"

Jukes snapped his attention to her. "What? No."

Her cheeks began to flush a scarlet. "Are these from...the Captain?"

He gave her a wicked grin and nodded, "Said he was hoping they'd make you smile... Lass, I don't know what kind of voodoo spell you placed on him, but I can say I've never seen him this smitten."

Emily cleared her throat and looked away, biting her lip while a bashful smile on her face. Her chest tightened, and a flutter sensation occupied her stomach.

"I did nothing," she mumbled. Her fingers traced over the fragile petals of the flowers.

Jukes let out a laugh and shrugged, "I got to get back to work, but take it easy, Lass."

He gave her a wave as he disappeared below deck.

She took another glance at the flowers and gave them a timid smile.

The blonde got dressed for the day in her satin slip, and she had taken her dried hair out from its bun. Smee had opened one of the stained glass paneled windows for her so that she could still get some fresh air while she fiddled with the keys on the harpsichord. Some songs she played came from muscle memory, while a few she created on the spot.

It was amazing how much better she felt when she took the day to care for herself – which was probably what the Captain intended when he ordered Smee to draw her a bath and breakfast in the first place.

Sometimes, when everything feels like it is falling apart, having someone to remind you to take care of yourself is the push you need to get back on track.

She was grateful for this day she had to herself.

It was nightfall by the time Hook made his way back to the ship.

When he walked into the room, he saw Emily sitting at the harpsichord as he made his way to his desk. When her playing came to a stop so she could greet him, he encouraged her to continue as he took off his coat and hat and sat down to write in his captain's log. Plus, he didn't seem to mind her playing. Emily assumed that he was heavy in thought and busy, so she stayed quiet and played until he was ready to address her.

But after about half an hour or so, she stopped again. She picked up the flowers that sat on top of the harpsichord and strolled towards him.

"Captain?" she addressed shyly; trying to be polite even though she interrupted him.

He looked up at her with a look of annoyance for disrupting him, but quickly snapped out of it when he registered that it was her. He hastily stood up from his spot as she made her way in front of him.

"Yes, Dear?" he replied, giving her a concerned look, "How are you feeling? Sorry that I was out today. I trust you are doing better?"

She gave him a coy smile, "Much better today, actually."

He nodded and let out a sigh of relief, "That's good to hear."

"I'm sorry for disturbing you...I just wanted to say I got your gift."

Hook paused, and then shuffled in his spot anxiously. He watched as she lifted the small bundle to her nose.

"It was a sweet gesture," she finally added. "Thank you."

A look of relief seemed to have crossed his face, and then almost as if he was thankful that she enjoyed them. He just nodded in response and moved his gaze away from her. Emily couldn't tell, but he was acting as if he was a little embarrassed by it.

Emily smiled and took a look at the flowers in her hand. She paused for a moment and looked at him. Then at the flowers, and then back to him. Gingerly, she held them up to his eyes. Hook side-eyed them before looking back at her.

"My Dear, what are you doing?" he inquired, cocking a brow at her as their gazes met.

She looked at his eyes as if she was heavily intrigued by them. "They're the same colour as your eyes," she mumbled.

Hook's face softened, and his cheeks flushed to a cherry red. He cleared his throat and looked away.

"How like a girl," he scoffed coyly, rolling his eyes.

Emily dropped her hand and smirked, "That's what I am, codfish."

She laughed and went to back away from him, but he swiftly wrapped his hooked arm around her waist and pulled her into him. She gave out a startled gasp and looked up at him doe-eyed.

"I believe I said you only get one of those," he scolded as he raised an index finger to her nose and placed a gentle 'bop' on it. "That's no way to speak to your captain."

Her captain...?

She liked the sound of that.

She gave him a playful smirk. "Don't make it easy then, cod–"

"Don't you dare," he mumbled sternly, his grip tightening on her waist while he gave her a challenging look.

She bit her lip at him, hiding a smile. She curled her lips timidly, and then spoke just as softly, "What are you going to do about it then, hm?"

What was she doing? This is not how a proper lady should act!

His eyes went wide at her statement. He couldn't figure out if it was a dare, an invitation, or both. But willing to make a point, he hesitantly placed his hand along her chin and tilted her head up to face him.

Emily watched quietly as the Captain began to lean forward, his head slowly tilting to the side. Naturally, she felt her eyelids slowly beginning to close.

Is he…going to…

Suddenly, the door of the cabin burst open, and Hook quickly dropped his hold of the girl, jumping back. They both turned their heads to see Smee standing in the doorway.

"Cap'n, dinner is all set," he informed. He paused and read the room before he gave them a suspicious look, "...Is everything all right in here?"

Emily cleared her throat and began to head towards him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear nervously.

"Just swell, Mr. Smee," she said. "What's for dinner?"