Chapter 14

The middle of the night watch, and no relief to be had. Hook's shoulder raged with a fire unquenched by rum. With sleep out of reach, the pirate captain finally slipped into a loose shirt and grouched his way above deck: perhaps cool night air coupled with a cold water rinse would soothe.

At the top step, Hook had to practically throw himself sideways to avoid a determined Scourie, who was barreling toward the stairway, his expression grim.

"Hold hard there, mate," grimaced Hook. "You nearly had my hook in you."

"Sorry, Cap'n," panted Scourie. "Weren't watching me path in all the haste. Looking fer you, sir."

"What's happened?" Hook could immediately sense the other's agitation. Scourie jerked his head toward the port gunwale.

"Foller me, Cap'n. It be Starkey and the lot. Trouble on the island."

Hook hissed a curse and accompanied Scourie to where Foggerty leaned wearily against the railing. The pirate straightened at his captain's approach, quivering slightly in the moonlight.

"Ahoy there, Fogg," Hook greeted as he came to a halt alongside. He leaned a hip against the railing, adopting a casual stance. "If I'm not mistaken, you went ashore with the raiding party."

"Aye, sir." Foggerty glanced at his feet a moment before continuing. "I… I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings, Cap'n, but… Lost Boys got 'em."

"What, all of them?"

Foggerty nodded, miserable. Hook let a beat elapse before asking quietly,

"Any survivors?"

"Well, sir, that's the strange part. Last I saw… not a one had been killed. Only trussed up like a passel of turkeys."

Hook raised an eyebrow, surprised, but relieved. "To what end?"

"That I couldn't say. Though I must admit, my own escape seemed far too easy - almost as if they willed it."

"Bloody hell." Hook dropped his head back and closed his eyes. After an uneasy silence, Scourie chanced a timid,

"Sir?"

"He's toying with me, mates. Pan. He intends for me to go after them."

"So... what are you going to do?"

Hook didn't even hesitate. "Go after them, naturally." He nodded at Scourie. "Rouse the others. Tell them what's happened and collect volunteers for a rescue party."

"Aye-aye, Cap'n."

As Scourie marched below, Hook clapped a hand to Foggerty's shoulder. "You all right, Fogg? Not hurt?"

"No, sir, but…" He trailed off, and Hook waited, quizzical. "Just… sorry. That we were ambushed. I'd like to help get them back."

The captain studied the other critically, then nodded. "Understandable. All right, mate; you can lead us to where you last saw the others, though it's unlikely they'll still be there."

"Yes, sir."

At least the trek into the jungle would provide a slight distraction from his shoulder.

It wasn't long before Smee stumbled on deck, still half-muddled with sleep.

"Captain? What's this about going ashore?"

"Mister Smee, much as you could use the beauty sleep, I'm afraid it'll have to wait. We're going to retrieve the crew from the clutches of the bloody Lost Boys. Fetch my coat and cutlass, and pack us some rations."

"Y-yes, sir."

As the first mate disappeared below, Hook called after him,

"Don't bloody well forget the rum this time, Smee!"

The reply was made unintelligible by the planks muffling it. Hook winked confidently at Foggerty, who managed a tenuous smile.

"We'll get them back," Hook promised. "Despite Mister Smee's incompetence."

Several other pirates were trickling onto the deck, looking sleepy but determined. Each was armed to the teeth, carrying ample supplies; prepared for a long search on land. With one further nod at at Foggerty, Hook headed back to his cabin, intending to light a fire under his first mate.

Predictably, Smee was inside, dithering about what to include in their supplies. He barely glanced up when Hook strode in.

"Captain, do you want-"

"It doesn't bloody matter, Smee. Decide for yourself and get a move on."

"Sir, don't you think… I mean, with your hand situation, maybe Cecco should-"

"Cecco be damned," growled Hook, snatching his coat from the chair. "After what happened last time he was left in charge? You think he can be trusted to lead this expedition? Not a chance."

The captain unscrewed his hook and thrust his brace into the coat sleeve, grunting at the resulting stab in his shoulder. Smee glanced heavenward and then rushed to help Hook.

"Okay, but-"

"Smee." Hook's warning was hoarse; pained. But the first mate got the message and shut his mouth, though he still wore a disapproving scowl. When the coat was situated and the hook back in place, Hook tilted his head toward his belt, and Smee obediently assisted with that as well.

"I need you along," Hook informed him in a tone that discouraged argument. "Some of the men may be injured."

Smee nodded. "I have my supplies ready, Captain."

The belt cinched tight, the cutlass reassuring at his hip, Hook examined the supplies strewn all across his table. He waved his hand carelessly.

"Bring the lot."

Smee looked dubious. "Your satchel will be awfully heavy, sir."

Hook winked cruelly. "Good thing I've a sturdy first mate to carry it, then."

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The greatest number of men Hook could spare would still be vastly outnumbered by Pan's Lost Boys. But hopefully they could put up enough of a fight that someone would be able to sneak in and release the captives, and that would even the odds a bit… assuming any of them were in a state capable of combat. Still. Hook couldn't leave the Jolly Roger undefended. He just wished he knew Pan's motives, if he had any beyond merely exploiting Hook's current condition.

Unconsciously, Hook alternately clenched and relaxed his fist as the rowboat neared shore; a new habit that did very little to relieve the maddening prickle in his fingers. Still pondering Pan's intentions, the pirate scowled darkly. Part of their arrangement included the promise of no interference by the Lost Boys whenever the crew went ashore to forage. Of course, Hook had never deluded himself that the demon was one to play by the rules. On his island - his Neverland - Pan could do as he pleased, and no one could stop him.

Once ashore, Foggerty took the lead, and the hike through the jungle was blessedly uneventful. So it wasn't a ploy to get the pirates ashore only to have the beasts finish them off. Like most everything on Neverland, the wild creatures obeyed Pan's wishes; if he were simply out to kill them, he had infinite means at his disposal. This was apparently something else.

Up ahead, Foggerty and a few others drew their weapons with a discordant melody that put the rest on high alert. Hook caught sight of three Lost Boys among the trees: not attacking, just waiting. Watching. When two pirates moved to engage, the boys retreated, keeping out of reach but still within sight. Hook waved his men onward, and as they passed, the Lost Boys fell into step behind, trailing an escort.

Not long after, Hook recognized the area they were approaching: it was a large, inexplicable clearing littered with giant, dome-shaped boulders. A good place to snare rabbits and the like, Hook's men had taken to calling it by the oh-so-clever designation "The Tits." It was hardly surprising that Starkey's foraging party had included the place in their itinerary.

The first boulder had just come into view when Foggerty dropped back to allow Hook to catch up. He pointed to their position and explained,

"We got about this far before we was ambushed, Cap'n. Reckon we oughter scope out The Tits ter begin with?"

"Aye," Hook affirmed grimly. The Lost Boys tailing them watched impassively as the pirates left the sheltering trees and rounded the rock to get a better view of the entire clearing.

Pan was there. So were the captured pirates, each tied with his arms hugging a boulder; each with a Lost Boy holding a blade menacingly close. Nearest stood Starkey, who merited both Felix and Rufio as guards. The bosun greeted his captain with a jaunty smirk.

"Ahoy there, Cap'n. Come to join the party, 'ave you?"

Hook stopped a cautious distance from the scene, tucking his thumb casually into his belt. "Starkey, mate; I thought I told you to get your fill of this-" He gestured vaguely at the ropes before returning his hand to his belt. "-while in the Enchanted Forest."

"Oh believe me, sir, I did ask. Seems none of the wenches are keen on creativity."

Hook smirked, relieved to find his men unharmed and in good enough spirits for banter. "Kind of the boulders to oblige, then."

Tired of being ignored, Pan sauntered between Hook and Starkey. "We've been waiting, Hook. I thought I would have to start offing your men before you finally dragged yourself out of bed."

Hook huffed a humorless laugh. "Very bad form, killling a man in the midst of… petrophilia?" He raised an eyebrow at Starkey, who managed a baffled shrug at the made-up term. Hook dropped the nonchalance, his demeanor hardening. "Seems a lot of trouble to bring me here, demon. Did I miss our regularly scheduled exploitation? Apologies; my calendar is several decades out of date."

"That's not it," Pan said, then sneered. "Although you really should get a new one. I expect punctuality in my whores."

Hook bristled, rage jolting heat through him, sending a flush to his face and instant tension to his limbs. Ignoring the roar of blood in his ears and glittering stars in his vision, Hook forced a breath, releasing it slowly before grasping an attitude of indifference. His voice was only slightly tight as he replied,

"I can hardly blame you for finding me so irresistible; most everyone does. But next time you feel yourself so desperate for my company, do us all a favor and come drag me away yourself. No need to involve everyone on the bloody island."

Pan's carnal leer as he very deliberately ran his gaze up and down Hook's body caused a shudder of both fury and revulsion to grip the pirate, and he winced at the inevitable throb in his shoulder. Pan licked his lips before replying,

"That's not what I'm after; at least, not yet."

"Then what is it?" snapped Hook in irritation.

"I want to see you in action," Pan explained, then grinned cruelly. "If it can even be called that anymore, with your new handicap and all. Let's see how well you fare against my Lost Boys… and how many men you lose when you can no longer fight for them. How far they're willing to go for you when they see how pathetic you've become."

Hook's venomous glower could only pass harmlessly through the gloating imp. The pirate forced several steady breaths in an attempt to slow his heart rate. Finally, he began a reasoned plea through clenched teeth. "Pan-"

With a snap of the demon's fingers, the Lost Boys immediately moved in to attack. Cursing, Hook drew his cutlass and stormed to Starkey's side, dodging blades and arrows as he went. A quick shower of sparks as steel met rock, and Starkey's sword arm was free. Hook blocked blows from both Felix and Rufio. The tingling in his hand already fast approached numbness, and he released a frustrated yell. Beside him, Starkey held a dagger; apparently, the Lost Boys hadn't thoroughly searched for weapons beyond the removal of the obvious cutlass.

The bosun didn't even bother to free himself completely; instead, he used the length of rope dangling from his wrist to trip Rufio, then cut off his airway by wrapping it around the Lost Boy's neck. Leaving Hook with only Felix to dispatch. Which wouldn't normally be such a problem. But…

Hook's grip lasted for only two more parries, then his cutlass arced away. It clattered against the boulder, sounding a death knell. Seconds later, Hook joined his blade in the dirt, the blow to his face still echoing round his skull. The jarring impact set his shoulder ablaze, and pain stole his breath away. He barely felt Felix's sword pressed against his throat, lost as he was in the haze of anguish that radiated with every beat of his heart.

Pan noticed, though, and at his shrill whistle, his Lost Boys obediently disengaged. A few of the pirates moved to press their advantage, but halted when Pan called out,

"And just like that, it's over." He sauntered toward the panting Hook. "Disappointing. You didn't even last a full minute, Captain."

Hook scowled murderously, helpless to act on the silent threat. Felix pressed fractionally harder with his weapon, reveling in his victory so apparent to all. Standing nearby, casually working the rope from his wrist, Starkey asked,

"Well, you 'ave 'im - what now? We all know you won't kill 'im."

"Do you, though?" Pan retorted. In a flash, he had elbowed Felix out of the way and taken possession of the sword, which dug painfully into the base of Hook's throat. The pirate reached up to wrestle back the pressure, but had not yet regained control of his hand, and all he managed to do was to slide his palm uselessly along the flat of the blade. Pan sneered, then turned his attention back to Starkey.

"Any one of you could take his place, you know." His gaze fell on Smee, and he smirked. "Well, almost anyone. I couldn't claim to enjoy it quite as much, but you've all got the parts that I need."

"Finish it, then, if that's your aim," Hook choked out.

"Not yet," replied Pan. "First comes the next part of the game. If you'll remember what I said earlier: now that your crew have seen how weak their captain is, will they even bother to help you?" The boy turned to address the rest of the pirates. "You have until the moon touches the western horizon to find your captain. If you fail, I kill him."

With that, Pan and Hook both disappeared, and the Lost Boys began dispersing, leaving the pirates to free their comrades and create a plan of attack.

Pan could say what he liked; Hook's crew would not abandon him. Whether they would find him in time was another matter entirely…