Trigger Warning: mentions of sexual assault

Chapter VIII:
Back at Square One

"Oh...my...god," Emily groaned.

She placed a hand to her head, a splitting headache greeting her this morning. Opening her eyes, they caught a glimpse at the newly found ink on her wrist.

"What the hell?" she muttered, examining her tattoo. "Holy shit..." She raised her fingers and tenderly traced over the marking. When she realized it was permanent, she let out a loud groan. "Father is going to kill me. Never mind, I'll actually be beyond dead."

Emily rolled over and growled at the sunlight that spilled in through the windows. Her eyes moved around the room and confusion crossed her face when she saw a bottle smashed on the ground with its contents sprawled out onto the floor. She cautiously got up from the bed and walked over to the mirror and basin where she washed her face and tamed her curls for the day ahead. Waves of nausea washed over her in quick little spurts, but she did her best to pull herself together.

God...what happened last night?

She walked over to the chest and pulled out a pair of charcoal-coloured pants and a navy-blue blouse. As she got dressed, Emily took a glance down at the wound on her hip. She gently traced her fingers over the 5 stitches that held the opening closed and frowned as she noticed it beginning to get a little red with a little bit of yellowish pus – she didn't fret too much, however, as she recalled when working as a nurse, that while some wounds would get nasty, it was just part of the healing process. She picked up a clean cloth and dipped it into a bowl of fresh water and dabbed it over the injury to clean.

Once finished, Emily made her way outside.

She furrowed her brows as she watched the men move hastily around deck. A few were mending the sails while a few others were busy with cleaning the ship top-to-bottom. She then watched as a couple of men tossed a large fishing net overboard. She had never seen the ship so busy.

Emily timidly walked her way around deck, doing her best to not get in the way of the working men around her. When she reached the forecastle deck, she could see Hook shouting at Smee over some kind of mild inconvenience.

Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed...er, couch...this morning, she thought.

She stood quietly by the stairs. When Hook was finished, he dismissed Smee and sat back down at his desk. Smee moved towards her and gave her a frantic look.

"Oh, good morning, Miss!" he greeted her with a smile that quickly fell, "I think it's best to avoid the Cap'n today. I'm afraid he is not in a good mood."

Smee took her by the hand and escorted her back down the stairs.

"Is everything all right?" she inquired, looking over her shoulder to take a quick glance at Hook.

The first mate hesitated before looking up at her. "How are you feeling, Miss?"

"Oh lord, I have a splitting headache," she admitted, bringing a hand to her head again. "What happened?"

"You had quite a bit to drink last night."

"I...did?" she asked in confusion. While back in London she enjoyed the occasional glass of wine or some gin here and there, she was never known to ever get drunk. So, for her to hear this, it surprised her. It was something out of character for her.

Smee nodded. She suddenly paused and frowned at him.

"Mr. Smee…did I do something last night?" her voice was quiet, and it almost sounded ashamed. Did she do something last night to upset the Captain?

She remembered a few things – like the feast, sitting around the fire, telling stories… But the rest of the night is blank.

Smee gave her hand a small pat and a reassuring smile, "Oh Miss, don't you worry. He'll get over it."

Get over it? Get over what?

Emily opened her mouth to speak but stopped when she looked around at where they were. She noticed they were no longer anchored at Cannibal Cove.

"Mr. Smee, where are we?"

"We're in Mermaid Lagoon," Smee answered.

She furrowed her brows. Why did they sail here? She remembered from last week that the Captain explained to her they would scare off the mermaids if they sailed over, which was why they had to hike...so then why...

It suddenly clicked in. The fishing nets.

"He's not..." she paused. Smee looked at her intriguingly. "...is he trying to catch a mermaid?"

He let out a low hum and shuffled in his spot awkwardly before he answered her with a nod. Her face hardened and before Smee would stop her, she spun on her heel and stormed her way over to the Captain.

"Miss, wait–!"

"What are you doing?!" she called out to him.

Hook turned around and returned her angered expression. Who was she to question his motives?

"What I like," he answered smugly.

"You can't catch a mermaid," she snapped at him.

"Yes, I can, and I will," he replied.

Emily underestimated how much she walked towards him – she was practically in his face at this point.

"But it's wrong!"

"I'm a pirate," he reminded her. In his angered state, he raised his hook to her. "Did you forget, my Dear?"

Her eyes darted down at the weapon that hovered close to her neck. He was trying to be intimidating, but she knew he wouldn't harm her. In a bad mood or not, he has no right to speak to her like this!

"But why?" her voice was in distress at this point, "What will you do with a mermaid?"

"What I like," he answered smugly again.

Emily let out an agitated groan. This was not how she wanted to start her day. Why was he being so difficult?

"Captain," she spoke again. This time, she did her best to level her voice, "you cannot capture a mermaid. It is morally wrong!"

He rolled his eyes in annoyance at her and again, he gestured to his hook. They were going in circles at this point.

"Miss Emily," he snapped at her. He began to step towards her, causing Emily to take steps back. "I am the captain here. You will do as I say."

Emily backed up so far, that she soon found herself pressed up against the banister of the ship.

"Do I make myself understood?"

She glared at him intensely before admitting defeat; it was no use trying to talk sense into someone who was so ignorant. She sighed and gave him a slow nod.

"Yes, Captain." She said through gritted teeth.

"Good," he spat, moving away from her.

Emily let out a heavy breath and scowled as he sat back down at his desk. Smee came to the blonde's side and reached for her hand again.

"Come along Miss, let's find you something to do," he suggested.

Emily followed him down the stairs. He began listing off chores that needed to be done for today – mopping the deck, laundry, dusting. Her ears perked up when he mentioned something about the kitchen.

"I can help out in the kitchen," she mentioned eagerly. Besides, she didn't want to be around Hook's presence today, anyway.

Smee gave her a grin, "Chef would really appreciate that, Miss."

He led her below deck and down a narrow hallway. It was pretty dark with only lanterns and small portholes to bring in light, but she didn't mind it too much. With her headache, avoiding the bright sunlight was the best idea for her right now.

At the very end of the hallway was the kitchen. It was a small, squarish room with a large cauldron in the center of it and a long counter that extended wall-to-wall right behind it. There was a small gas stove along the right wall and on the other side of the room were baskets and sacks filled with numerous ingredients and vegetables. There was also a large metal bucket that she assumed was to be the kitchen sink. The room smelt salty and savory; the cauldron boiling what Emily concluded was some kind of chicken soup.

Her eyes finally landed on the ship's chef.

"Well, ahoy, Lass!" he greeted her with a grin. "Ahoy, Mr. Smee!"

"Ahoy," Emily smiled shyly.

"Miss Emily will help you in the kitchen today, Chef," Smee instructed. He gave Emily a small pat on her back before leaving back to the upper deck.

Chef was a bigger man with a round, jolly belly. He had on a black blouse with an old, yellowed apron that was stained with blood and juices over top of it with black and white striped pants and black boots. He had a full set of grey hair that was tied back into a low ponytail and a bit of peppered stubble along his chin.

"Well, I was just chopping up some vegetables. Would you mind continuing that and throwing it into the stew?" he asked.

She gave him a nod and moved to take over the job while Chef went to clean up the dirty dishes in the sink.

Emily quite enjoyed her time in the kitchen, and she loved being in the company of Chef. He was a very merry man, and unlike Murphy, his stories were actually hilarious, and he was very sweet in nature. He kind of reminded her of her own grandfather back in England, and in a way, he made her a little homesick for family.

Chef was aware of her stitches and only gave her light duties to complete, despite her telling him otherwise.

"Now Lass, ye still got to take it easy," he scolded her with a smile, "I know ye feel okay, but got to make sure those stitches don't pop."

She stood by the cauldron and stirred the stew as she threw in a couple of spices.

"I have to admit Chef," she said shyly, "…I really hate mushrooms."

He furrowed his brows and then let out a big heartfelt laugh when he remembered he made her his garlic and mushroom soup the other day. He gave her an acknowledging nod.

"Noted, Lass," he laughed.

Footsteps interrupted their conversation, and Emily looked up to see Jukes at the door.

"Hey Chef, we've brought the ingredients you wanted. They're on deck for you to count."

Chef gave him a nod and turned towards Emily.

"I'll be back in a second, Lass," he explained, "Just continue what you're doing."

She watched them both leave from her sight and turned her attention towards the remaining vegetables she was chopping up for dinner.

Emily chuckled to herself in contentment. She would assist their cook make dinner all the time for her and her father, and he taught her quite a bit when it came to recipes. She was able to convince Chef to let her make one of her favourite dishes for dinner tonight – Shepherd's Pie. The dish consists of 3 layers: the first layer is lamb, with a variety of vegetables (such as carrots, peas, and corn) for the second, and the last layer on top is mashed potatoes. It was always a great dish on usually a cold or rainy day, but for tonight, it will simply be a comfort dish for her.

She hummed to herself as she continued with prep. And eventually, words began to spill from her lips…

"Put your head on my shoulder
Hold me in your arms, Baby
Squeeze me oh-so-tight
Show me that you love me too

She started to sway her hips playfully to the song she sang, a smile beginning to spread across her lips. She couldn't remember the last time she sang!

Put your lips next to mine, Dear
Won't you kiss me once, Baby?
Just a kiss goodnight, maybe
You and I will fall in love

Emily stopped her task due to distracting herself with her song and dance. It wasn't as sultry as the night before (not that she really remembered that), but rather just a lively, amusing sway of her hips with a couple of twirls around the kitchen.

People say that love's a game
A game you just can't win
If there's a way, I'll find it someday
And then this fool will rush in

Once she caught herself being side-tracked, she quickly went back to her chore, while still dancing a little in her spot.

Put your head on my shoulder
Whisper in my ear, Baby
Words I want to hear
Tell me that you love me too

Put your head on my shoulder
Whisper in my ear, Baby
Words I want to hear, Baby
Put your head on my shoulder–

Emily was suddenly jerked back from where she stood. In surprise, she dropped the knife she was holding and found her back pressed against the ground, pushed up into a corner beside the counter with a heavy weight on top of her.

She darted her eyes up to see Murphy straddling over her with a firm grip on her wrists pinning her down. His eyes were dark – filled with lust and resentment.

"Dammit Lass," he had a wicked grin on his face and his voice was a low growl and sinful, "You can't act like this and not expect me to…"

He shifted his hands so that his one hand held her wrists in a tight grasp while the other began to lower down to her shirt.

Her body began to tremble, and she started to thrash around with all her might.

"M-Murphy," she stuttered, "g-get off m-me!"

Murphy only gave her an evil smirk in response. She could feel his fingers slowly slip under her shirt. While she attempted to shove him off, she let out a scream for help.

"They can't hear you," he hushed lustfully in her ear, "the Captain is much too occupied right now with a certain boy who flies."

Emily watched him with a horrified look as she saw him reach for her pants. She started to sob as she let out another cry for help. Murphy cackled in her face as he found her helplessness humorous.

But his laugh was caught short.

Emily looked up to see his eyes wide in shock. Blood slowly began to trickle from his mouth, and his body fell to the side with a heavy 'thud'. She looked up to see the Captain standing above her with fresh blood on his hook. He swiftly pulled her to her feet and was quick to remove her from the scene, out into the hallway.

"Get him out of here!" Hook's voice boomed.

Emily stood trembling in his arms and watched as Chef and Jukes ran into the kitchen to clean up the aftermath. She turned her attention up to Hook who looked at her with much regret. He raised his hand to her cheek, only to let it hover. Emily curled her lips timidly and met him halfway by leaning into it.

"Are you hurt?" he asked in a soft tone. He scanned his eyes up and down her figure.

She shook her head no, but then began to sob as she leaned into his chest, wrapping her arms tightly around him. He returned the gesture and brushed his fingers through her tangled knots as he made continuous shushing sounds to soothe her. He held her head firmly against him; shielding her from watching Jukes and Chef carry the body outside. Once they were out of sight, he slowly pulled her away from him.

"This shouldn't have happened," he told her, "I am so sorry, Emily."

Emily could only let out a few sniffles and stood shaking in his hold. She eventually returned to the embrace she desperately craved and felt the safest in.

His.

Hook spent the rest of the day with her in his cabin. Smee came in a few times to bring them something to eat and some tea to help calm Emily's nerves but was quick to leave them uninterrupted.

They didn't have much to say to each other.

Emily sat wrapped in a blanket in front of the fireplace with a blank expression as the Captain sat beside her. There would be moments of silence, and then other times, she would cry on his shoulder. Gradually, Hook soon found her curled up in his lap, burying her face into his chest as if trying to shut the world out, and he would sit there and allow it. He was ever-so careful with how he touched her; not wanting to put her in any more discomfort.

He couldn't help but feel he was to blame. It was his own crewmate who did this to her. His own crewmate caused her harm and distress on his own ship. Something that was not allowed. It was poor judgment of character on his part, and he wondered, if perhaps if he wasn't such a jerk to her this morning, she wouldn't have been left in such a vulnerable position down below where he couldn't see her.

But she had the right to do what she pleased on his ship. She had the right to do what she pleased without getting hurt.

Oh, how this ruined him.

And while he too yearned to have her in his arms, he just kept telling himself:

Not like this.

Emily spent much of the evening sleeping. Hook had tucked her into bed and occupied his time with writing in his log, not daring to leave the room in case she was to wake up.

There was a knock on the door, and he got up to answer it to make sure her sleep would be undisturbed. Smee stood standing at the door holding a tray with dinner and a bottle of wine.

"I brought dinner, Cap'n," Smee explained quietly.

Hook stepped out of the way without a word and watched as he walked over towards the desk to place it down, giving a sad look to the girl before turning around and exiting.

When the Captain made his way over to the food, he looked at the new dish curiously since it was something Chef had never made before. Picking up a fork, he poked at the food before lifting it to his mouth and taking a bite. His eyes widen and a happy hum escaped his lips as he enjoyed the rich savory taste. He quietly walked over to Emily, and tenderly placed a hand on her shoulder; giving it a gentle shake to wake her.

"Emily," he cooed softly.

The blonde's eyes slowly fluttered open and she looked up to Hook with a groggy look before giving him a weary smile.

"I'm sorry to wake you... But there's some dinner here for you," he explained.

She gave him a slow nod before sitting up. Turning her attention to the desk, she took in a deep inhale of the delicious scent mixed of mashed potatoes and lamb. Hook motioned for her to stay put and got up to grab their plates. He sat back down beside her, handing it over to her.

"The Chef really outdid himself with this," he said, "It's really good."

Emily gave him a shy smile as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Really?" she asked him. Her voice was quiet and a little bashful. Hook nodded. "Because...I made it."

He looked at her with a shocked face, "Really?"

She nodded.

"My Dear, you are an excellent cook." He praised, a smile on his lips.

She returned his smile and looked away shyly, taking small bites of her meal. She could feel herself be incredibly hungry, but the stress of today left her once again with no appetite. Her stomach wrapped itself back up in knots and all that she felt like she could do was vomit.

She was back at square one. Stressed, exhausted, sore, and no appetite.

Her body and mind had gone through so much trauma, that she wondered why in the midst of the little bit of comfort she found herself today in the first time since she arrived in Neverland, that it had to be snatched away in an instant. She found her eyes once again to overflow with tears.

Hook looked at her when he heard the familiar sound of soft sniffles. And his heart sank into his stomach.

"Oh Emily," he whispered as he pulled the plates away to the side.

"I'm so sorry," she sobbed, burying her face into her hands.

The Captain sat patiently beside her, waiting to serve her with whatever she needed.

"God, I'm so weak," she sputtered in-between sobs, "I'm sorry for crying so much. You must think I'm pathetic."

Hook stared at her with a serious look, and moved his hand to her chin, tilting her face towards him.

"Emily," he said sternly, "you are incredibly brave. So much braver than any of the men on my ship."

She let out a couple of cries as he brushed her tears away, swallowing hard as he gingerly pressed his forehead to hers.

"This isn't weakness," he continued. He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes, "what has happened to you is unfortunate and…unfair…to a woman as beautiful, and strong, and…full of life…as you."

There was a long moment of silence before either one of them spoke again.

"Jas..." he heard her mumble.

Hook could feel his heart sink deeper into his stomach. Did he really just hear her say his name? …And not in a drunken manner?

"Hm…?" he hummed, opening his eyes to meet hers.

"...Thank you..." she breathed.

It took a while, but the blonde was finally able to get back to sleep.

Once he knew she was in a deep slumber, Hook made his way out onto the deck to smoke a cigar.

Another insane day came to an end.

He took a look around his ship. When he saw the nets hanging around on deck, he glared at them intensely. What the hell was he thinking this morning? Trying to catch a mermaid... He felt like such an idiot to argue with her over something so petty.

And if it wasn't for his ignorance…

Taking in a deep inhale, Hook watched as the night crew did their duties. He caught sight of Smee and Jukes speaking with each other, and when Jukes noticed the Captain, he immediately darted over.

"How is she?" he inquired; his voice shook with worry.

"She's all right now," Hook assured him.

"The poor Miss," Smee said sadly, "she didn't deserve that..."

"I swear to God," Jukes growled, "I'll bring that man back from the dead just so I could kill him again." He punched a fist into his other hand angrily.

Hook waved a hand at Jukes, motioning for him to relax, "Well, he's dead now. He can't hurt her." He looked down at the sea and exhaled, "But, I need you two men to watch her more closely. Don't let her out of your sight. I don't trust anyone else around her alone."

Smee and Jukes nodded in acknowledgment and looked at each other grimly. It was a sad reality. For Hook didn't want the girl to fear her time on his ship, but now seeing the true colours of one of his men, he lost every ounce of trust in almost all of them.

Jukes gave a frown, "What do we do now?"

Hook clicked his tongue and sighed, "I need to take her off this ship tomorrow."

"Ooh...maybe a picnic?" Smee suggested, his eyes peering up over his glasses.

Jukes smirked at Smee about what he was hinting at, "Aye Captain...take the lass to that field filled with wildflowers, she'll love that."

Hook paused and looked at his mates suspiciously before finally rolling his eyes and nodded in agreement.

"It would be a nice change of scenery for her," he affirmed. He looked down at Smee and then cleared his throat, "Mr. Smee, I have a request to ask of you."

"What is it, Cap'n?"

"Would you make her a new dress?" It was stated as a question, but it was really more of an order. "I, uh…lack the skills to do so."

Out of the many things Smee could do, sewing was one of them. Of course, out of all his years on the ship, it was Smee who would make and mend most of the Captain's clothes.

Smee gave Hook a massive grin and nodded, "Of course, Cap'n! I think the Miss would very much like that."

"Good," Hook said, "it's settled then."

"What about the mermaids?" Jukes questioned.

Hook took a long drag of his cigar and shrugged. It was the last thing on his mind right now.

"We'll figure that out later," he replied, "Right now…she just needs this."

When Emily woke up the next morning, she stared at the ceiling dreading the day ahead.

What kind of hell would she be put through today?

She stayed buried under the sheets for a while before finally rolling over to the side and glanced over at the windows that continued to spill colours of red, blue, and green into the room. It was a sight she didn't think she could ever get sick of. What caught her attention, however, was a folded-up piece of cloth with a note placed on top of it with her name written in cursive.

She got up from the bed and shuffled to the desk. Picking up the note, she opened it up to see a makeshift written invitation for her from Captain Hook:

Dear Miss Emily–

You are invited to attend a picnic today in
Neverland's Wildflowers Field today at 11:00 a.m.

Dress code has been provided.

Kindest regards,
Jas Hook, Captain

Emily furrowed her brows but then gave a giggle at the invitation. What was he up to? She placed the note down and picked up the folded-up garment. She recognized the fabric from one of the dresses Smee and the crew had gifted her, but it was altered to something more in her style.

It was another simple satin slip; similar to the ones she had made previously. Except, this one was a blush pink in colour with a cowl neckline. It was held up with spaghetti straps, and the length appeared to look like it would end right at her calves. She smiled at it curiously and wondered if the Captain made the dress himself? No, he didn't seem like the type of man who would bother to learn such a skill...perhaps it was Smee? Either way, she was thankful and eager to put it on – wearing satin slips had become one of her favourite things to wear on the ship since they were light and quite breathable under Neverland's hot sun.

Once she got dressed and situated herself for the day, Emily opened the door to go greet the Captain.

"Shall I go wake her, Cap'n–?" Smee's voice came to a halt.

Hook glanced down at Smee when he stopped, furrowing his brows as his mouth hung open. He then moved his attention to what he was staring at, and soon his breath also left him.

He watched as Emily strolled her way towards him. The light of the sun hit perfectly behind her, setting off an almost angelic glow around her golden locks. She moved gracefully and almost proud – as if the day before didn't waver her spirit at all. Her waves danced with the wind, and her eyes glistened with what he could have sworn with some form of happiness.

God, how he found her so...bewitching...

"Wow..." Smee gasped, looking up at the Captain. He then gave him a playful nudge.

Hook scowled at Smee and cleared his throat as Emily moved in front of him.

"Good morning, my Dear," he greeted her.

"Good morning, Captain," she replied. She gave him a teasing smile, "What's this about a 'picnic'?"

Hook grinned and held an arm out for her to take.

"I would be honoured if you would join me, Madam, on a picnic to see the wildflowers of Neverland."

Emily bit her lip and giggled as she took his arm, giving him a playful eye roll.

"Oh, Jas Hook," she said with a smile, "you are quite the charmer."

A/N: Damn, I banged this chapter out literally in a night, Lool. My poor baby has gone through so much :(

Song: Put Your Head On My Shoulder by Paul Anka