Chapter 15

There was a part of Hook that hoped his men wouldn't come. Not because he wanted to die, although his quest for vengeance - his reason for living - was looking even more unlikely now with the cursed enchantment hampering him. Not even because of the utterly humiliating circumstances in which they would find him. It may be the first time some of them would see him naked, but it wasn't as if he had anything to be ashamed of. No, the reason he didn't want to be found was because he feared for their safety. This was obviously a trap, and his men would enter willingly in their haste to set him free.

With a grimace, Hook shifted slightly; his discomfort persisted. He was in a vast, drafty cave, locked inside a tiny cage that didn't even allow full extension of his legs. Worse, the wooden structure sat right on the edge of a dizzying precipice. Hook had seen the depth of the drop-off while Pan was stripping him, shoving him into the cage, and tying his wrist tightly to its bamboo skeleton - there were torches then, their ruddy glow only extending so far into the chasm before being swallowed by shadow. Now, Pan and his fires were gone; the only light just the barest hint of blue at the cave entrance. But the pirate dared not lean against that side of the cage, lest his weight somehow send it toppling over the edge.

Setting his feet, knees bent, Hook scooted himself a little farther to his right. His hand was stuck between two bars near the top of the cage, the rope tied tightly above the cuff, which dug painfully into his forearm. If he really made an effort, he could bend his wrist just enough to slide his thumb back inside, and he was hoping to eventually work the cloth gag out of his mouth. This, too, was tied agonizingly tight, and he wasn't optimistic about removing it, but he had to try.

His left arm was free; a subtle way of taunting his helplessness, no doubt. Even if he could lift it - if his shoulder weren't so damaged and completely useless - he would be able to do very little with the scarred remains of his wrist. Thus, his elbow rested against his hip, the shoulder twinging sharply with each small movement as he sought a more comfortable position.

Some ridiculous amount of time later - maybe an hour? - Hook slumped sideways in defeat. All he had accomplished with his effort was to give himself a sore wrist and thumb, and chafed cheek. He just didn't have the leverage or range of motion to pull the cloth from between his teeth, or even slide it significantly up over his head or down around his neck. He was frustrated, cold, sore… he just wanted the ordeal over, whatever form that ending took.

The pirate closed his eyes and rested his head against the wooden bars. His next idea was to try and stretch his face toward the knot securing his hand, and hope that he could still bite down hard enough to grip the rope. But it was a major long shot. For one thing, the knot was above the hand, tied in the upper corner of the cage, and it would be difficult to position his head at the proper angle to even reach it. The strain would undoubtedly hurt his shoulder, too. Hook couldn't just untie the knot at his wrist; Pan had been clever and anchored both ends of the rope at the cage corner, with Hook's hand tied in the middle. A crosswise bar just above his wrist prevented him from reaching his hand up that far, and the cuff made it impossible to force any more of his arm out through the bars. The only way of freeing himself would have to involve his mouth.

He came close to drifting off several times, but at each instance, a stabbing pain in his shoulder would jerk him awake. Grumbling, he shifted uncomfortably, aching to stretch his cramping knees and spine.

It only grew worse as the minutes - and then hours - ticked by. Two short-lived, agonizing attempts to reach the knots above his head put a very definite end to that hope. All he could do was wait, absolutely helpless, trying not to think of the only other option left to him. Falling would put an end to his misery… but he had to think of his crew. Not only would one of them have to become Pan's new toy, but the demon would probably also use Hook's death as an excuse to torment the pirates as punishment. Even though they would have had nothing to do with it; even though Pan himself was the instigator. Logic never applied to Pan's actions. So, for the sake of his crew, Hook buried his face against his forearm, counting heartbeats, longing for release.

When the first muffled voices sounded from the cave entrance, Hook thought he had imagined them. But then they grew louder, and he opened his eyes and pulled himself up as much as he could. They were definitely men's voices, reasoned and determined; not wild and harsh like the Lost Boys'. Pulse quickening, Hook clenched his jaw and willed the pirates to pass by, or, if they did enter, to wait for Pan to return. It would not be as simple as crossing the narrow stone bridge and cutting Hook free; it couldn't be.

Light flared in the entrance, and in walked Foggerty and several others. Their exclamations upon discovering their captain sounded unnaturally muted to Hook, increasing his dread. The pirates drew their weapons and cast about for any sign of Pan or the Lost Boys, but there was only Hook. Leaving Casey and Scourie to guard their backs, the others headed toward the bridge. Frantically, Hook tried waving them back, shouting a muffled, unintelligible warning. But they misinterpreted his cries as pleas for help, and it only served to hasten their crossing.

A terrible, vibrating rumble sounded from the rock bridge. It jolted the whole cave, causing Hook's cage to shimmy backwards a bit as he clung to the bar in panic. His men released frightened yells as the ground beneath their feet began to crumble; some lurched toward Hook, others back the way they'd come. Scourie lunged forward to grasp the outstretched hand of Ed, hoping to pull him back onto solid ground.

But none of them made it.

The stone bridge disintegrated into the void, taking every last man with it. Their horrified final screams mingled with Hook's wail of despair, echoing around the vast chamber for far longer than naturally possible. Tears of rage scorched the captain's cheeks; he struggled and kicked, howling his fury and grief. Casey appeared frozen in shock, staring at the chasm, features slack, his torch quivering.

Hook bellowed once more and then went limp. The renewed pain in his shoulder could not come close to the guilt that now wracked his every gasp. More than half a dozen men. Gone, in an instant… because of him. He had half a mind to push himself backward; to join them in the darkness. Surely even Pan wouldn't require more suffering after such a loss?

Before he could seriously consider either option, the demon himself appeared, leaning casually against the cage door. It slid backwards another handful of centimeters, and Pan straightened with an insincere,

"Whoops!"

Hook lunged toward him, not caring about the futility of the action. He snarled obscured curses at the boy, shaking with wrath. Pan watched from a step away with an infuriating grin of amusement on his evil features.

"I understand there was a bit of an accident in here. My condolences, Captain."

Hook glared and panted as he strained against his confinement. Pan snorted a laugh.

"Honestly, you're probably better off without them. It took all of them to come across to free you? I was expecting two or three at the most. Then again, pirates aren't known for their brain power." He adopted a sarcastically sad expression. "At least you can remember them by their loyalty."

Angry energy spent, Hook collapsed forward against the cage door. His breaths made wet whistling sounds as he panted past the gag. He didn't even flinch when Pan reached inside to stroke his hair.

"There there, Captain. It's okay to be angry. After all, they were only here because of you."

The demon's echoing of Hook's thoughts should have reassured him. If that was how Pan wanted him to feel, he should feel the opposite, if only to spite him. But it wasn't that simple. There was truth to it, despite the logical knowledge that there was nothing he could have done to prevent any of this; even the whole situation with the cuff was beyond his control. The simple fact remained: those men would still be alive if they had not been trying to rescue him.

Pan worked his fingers into Hook's hair and then tugged firmly, dragging the pirate's head back and forcing him to face him. Hook's glower of hatred was tempered somewhat by the pain and guilt in his eyes. Nostrils flaring, he worked his jaw until Pan smirked and released his hold. The boy glanced back to the still-shaken Casey before stating,

"Technically, I suppose they did find you. So… game over. Let me know how it works out for you, Captain. I don't imagine what's left of your crew will be too happy with this result."

The demon snapped his fingers, there was an instant of dizziness, and Hook's cage winked from its platform over to the cave entrance. Pan appeared nearby with the pirate's clothing in hand.

"You'll need these, I think."

He carelessly tossed the garments at the cage, and they draped haphazardly over the edge. Then the boy was gone.

Grimly shaking himself out of his daze, Casey leaned his torch against the rock wall, then used his cutlass to hack away the ropes securing Hook's wrist. With his hand free, the captain immediately set to work on the gag while Casey cut the door open.

Hook's tired and partially-numb fingers were struggling to loosen the cloth behind his head; Casey hesitated, then quietly asked,

"Can I help you, sir?"

Closing his eyes, the captain nodded once before ducking his head to allow Casey access. The younger man made quick work of the knot, and as the fabric finally slipped out from beneath his teeth, Hook spat, licked his lips, and scrubbed his hand over his mouth. Then he awkwardly crawled out of the cage, clutching his stump against his navel. Casey was already grasping Hook's shirt, but he bent to offer his hand to the captain.

Hook groaned as he stood, his joints and spine crackling audibly as he stretched. Casey held his shirt open, mournful gaze edging toward the chasm that had swallowed his crewmates. The captain carefully slid his stump into its sleeve, tugged the fabric the rest of the way up to his injured shoulder, then located the other sleeve with his good arm. Meanwhile, Casey retrieved Hook's trousers, noting his wincing.

"You all right, Captain?"

"Aye, mate."

There was nothing else to be said. Both still reeling from what they'd witnessed, both experiencing some amount of guilt, for different reasons… no amount of platitudes could ease their raw emotions.

Clothed, but with bare feet, Hook waved off the offering of his vest. Instead, he set his jaw and turned to face the void. A few stiff steps took him to the edge; he stopped just before the ground fell away, closed his eyes, and bowed his head. After a moment, Casey came to join him in the silent tribute.

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Hook and Casey met up with the other search party not long after exiting the cave-turned-tomb. The captain gave his difficult report to a stunned audience before they all hiked back to the beach in a melancholy fog.

Their crimson flag was lowered to half-mast, voices subdued, all merrymaking curtailed. They had no bodies to put to rest - Hook forbade any recovery efforts, fearing that the supernatural powers of the cave would claim more lives in the attempt. So they selected a personal belonging of each man lost and surrendered the token to the sea as memorial.

No one blamed Hook more than he himself. Most cursed Pan - appropriately so - while some questioned their own roles and what they could have done differently.

But none of it would bring back their seven missing comrades.