Chapter 24

With colossal effort, Hook focused on Tiger Lily's voice. It drove some of the fog away, and he was able to collect his scattered thoughts. First, that he was obviously not in the Underworld, unless his two companions had somehow joined him in death. Or could they be hallucinations?

Second, all of the physical sensations. Cold, where he lay sideways on stone. Exhausted and energized at the same time; his heart pounding, anxious claws in the pit of his gut tempting his limbs to move, screaming for him to get up and go. Also, pain. His chest and shoulder ached. His head throbbed. Every muscle felt wobbly and overstretched. And his wrist: a double layer of anguish, heavy and crushing deep within but bright and fiery on the surface.

Third… the reason? For the suffering? Something about being enslaved. Locked-up. Someone's puppet? No, not quite that; he wasn't doing things against his will, more like… he couldn't carry out his own will. And Smee and bloody Tiger Lily were working to change that.

Reluctantly, Hook dragged his eyes open, knowing that he would only begin to feel better once he had all of the pieces back in place. Even the dim light of the fire hurt his eyes, and he groaned, again reaching toward his face and finding his arm impeded.

It was Smee. He was holding Hook's arm down with one hand while using the other to fiddle with gods-knew-what.

"Hook?" asked Tiger Lily from behind him. He didn't even bother trying to locate her face; any movement of his head was likely to intensify its complaining by multiples.

"Never imagined the afterlife would be quite this painful," groaned Hook, surprising himself and the others with his clarity. Smee glanced back at him with a grin, the relief clearly visible on his face.

"Captain! Hi. Glad you're back with us." He looked up at Tiger Lily. "That's good, right? He's out of danger?"

Hook noted the slight hesitation before she answered.

"It is good, yes. You sound aware, Captain, so most likely you avoided major brain damage. But. The toxin is still present, and could still have an effect on your heart, even to the point of slowing it or stopping it altogether. I'll need to watch you closely for the first few days, and I have some mixtures that can soften its effects. Just tell me if you start to feel strange; think you can do that?"

"Aye."

"Can he sit up?" wondered Smee.

"He could still go back into convulsions, so it's better to keep him lying down for the next hour or two." She patted Hook's elbow, addressing him. "After that, you can sit up, and have something to drink, and we'll slowly get you eating again, too."

The captain couldn't yet get excited by the prospect, as his nausea lurked nearby, although the concept of water in his dry mouth did appeal. But before he could say so, a sudden spike of pain in his wrist had him gasping in a sharp breath.

"Smee? What the bloody hell are you doing?"

The first mate's face took on a tinge of guilt, and he stole a furtive glance at Tiger Lily. "There was a… slight complication with the cuff. Sorry, Captain. But it should be fairly simple to deal with and finally get rid of it once and for all."

The details of the enchantment finally flooded back; Hook narrowed his eyes and demanded,

"What's happened? What 'complication'?"

Smee hesitated, and Hook growled,

"Let me see."

Reluctantly, Smee moved aside while warning,

"Try not to move it, sir."

The sight of the metal piercing his skin magnified the burn. It didn't seem very deep; the flesh holding it in place was curved in its displacement until the very center, so that one could follow the shape visually. It wasn't really bleeding, although purple already spread from one line to the other. Hook cursed quietly.

"I was thinking… probably the easiest thing would be to cut a… a flap, sir. Right here…" Smee indicated a short line bisecting the injury, running from one entry point to the other, on the side farther from his hand. It would create a continuous, U-shaped cut. "Then I should be able to slide it right out."

Hook swallowed several times as his nausea intensified.

"Do it," he grit out. He just wanted it gone, immensely tired of the loathsome object that had caused him so much pain and vexation. Smee chewed his lip as he returned to his preparations.

"Guess you should have waited to wake up, sir," he stated half-heartedly. "Sorry."

"Anything I could give you to help would also have a sedative effect, which is not what we want right now," Tiger Lily added. Hook snorted mirthlessly.

"That's not surprising. The both of you seem suspiciously keen on watching me suffer."

Smee missed the sarcasm, of course, but before his sputtering turned into a coherent protest, Tiger Lily suddenly asked,

"What's your real name, Hook?"

The captain raised an eyebrow and attempted to look back at her, but that only amplified the throbbing in his skull and rolling of his stomach. He winced and shut his eyes. He heard the fairy move around to crouch next to Smee as he asked,

"What?"

"Your name."

"Pirates don't require headstones, love."

Opening his eyes again, he caught her amused smirk. Resting a gentle hand on his forearm, palm covering some of the faint red lines denoting his planned tattoo, she said,

"Don't worry; that wasn't my intention. I'm just making conversation."

He met her gaze for a long moment before answering,

"It's Killian."

Then he felt Smee take hold of his wrist, and he drew a quick, strained breath; he noted that even in its current position, the cuff's enchantment could affect him, as his fingers increased their familiar buzzing. Tiger Lily tightened her grip on his arm.

"Killian Hook?"

Smee's blade bit into his skin. Hook growled in pain before releasing a tense laugh.

"That would be quite the coincidence."

Responding to a quiet request from Smee, Tiger Lily took hold of the cuff and tilted it slightly so that the edge closest to Smee's dagger pushed against and raised the skin. "Stranger things have happened."

Desperately fighting the urge to pull away, Hook gritted out,

"Jones. Killian Jones. Bloody hell, Smee!"

The dagger thumped to the dirt as the first mate replied,

"That should do it, I hope."

Tiger Lily surrendered the cuff to Smee, her hand joining the other on Hook's forearm. "Killian Jones. Better than Hook."

"Aye, he was," admitted the pirate, before voicing the expletives gathering in his throat. Smee was tugging on the cuff, working it toward the incision he'd just made, and it wasn't coming easily. Tiger Lily squeezed his arm.

"Hook is the tough one, though, isn't he? The survivor? The mask you wear to hide your insecurities."

Something tore beneath the skin, and Hook's cringing hiss was covered by Smee's exclamation of triumph. The cuff finally slid free; the first mate held it up with a happy grin. "Got it!"

Hook peeled his eyelids open just enough to see the cursed ring of gold in Smee's fist, sluggishly shedding a drop of blood onto the cave floor. For the first time in far too long, Hook's fingers felt normal. The captain grimaced a quiet sigh of relief as his first mate tossed the metal aside and returned his attention to the remaining wound. The strip of cloth serving as a tourniquet was still wrapped tight, helping to staunch the bleeding, but despite that, a steady stream trickled down Hook's wrist. Tiger Lily reached into a pocket and produced a small bottle of liquid.

"Put this on the wound before you close it," she instructed Smee. "To prevent infection."

When the burn had subsided, Hook opened his eyes to find Tiger Lily still at his side, watching him. He retreated back into the familiar.

"See something you like?"

The fairy didn't react to his insinuation; he ran his tongue along his teeth before sighing.

"Like it or not, Killian Jones is Hook now, love. There's no pretext; no... separation. Your bloody potions may have blunted the comportment a bit, but…" Here he had to pause when a sharp sting told him Smee had begun his suturing. He caught his breath before continuing tightly. "...Killian Jones won't ever return. He can't."

Tiger Lily tilted her head as she studied him intently; he stared right back, hating how each stab of the needle caused his gaze to falter. Finally, the fairy's face softened, and she murmured,

"I think you're wrong."

Hook scoffed. "Why would you care, anyway?"

"I don't." She got up, and he found himself missing her touch on his arm. "Nothing good ever came of friendships with pirates."

"Aye, too true, lass." He clenched his jaw, determined not to take offense.

She moved to the fire and poured a steaming liquid from the pot. "When this is over, things go back to the way they were. Agreed?"

"Naturally." Then Hook winced. "What's taking so damn long, Smee? You're usually faster than this."

"Sorry, sir. Just trying to line the edges up nicely. I'm hoping it will heal better if I do."

"Bloody hell," the captain muttered.

Tiger Lily returned with a wink. "If Killian Jones ever does make an appearance, send him my way. I'd like to meet him."

Hook flashed her an insincere smile. "I would advise you not to hold your breath." When she didn't reply, he eyed the cup she held with suspicion. "What's that, then?"

"Ginger water. For the nausea." She set the cup nearby to cool, then pressed her fingers into his neck to measure his pulse. Meanwhile, Smee grasped his captain's hand in order to rotate the wrist and grant himself better access to the wound; Hook flinched at the sudden flare deep within the joint.

"Smee," he groaned. "Did you break my bloody wrist to get the damn cuff off?"

The first mate grimaced, shamefaced. "I… might have felt something give way. Unintentionally, of course."

"Brilliant idea, that was. Trading one cause of limited mobility for another."

"Yeah, but at least this will heal, and go away with time. Trust me; it's for the best."

Before he could curse Smee's ineptitude, Hook was overcome with dizziness, and he fell silent as he squeezed his eyes shut. Smee carefully finished the suturing, taking pride in the result: the flap had aligned perfectly, and the U-shaped line of stitches was neat and even. The ugly bruises discoloring the arm would fade with time. Gently, Smee removed the tourniquet, then ran his fingers along both bones in the forearm, searching for the inevitable fracture. Hook muttered unintelligible protests, but kept his eyes closed. Two particular areas elicited pained reactions as Smee probed carefully; however, he felt nothing that needed manipulation, at least as far as he could tell.

"Seems to be only hairline fractures, Captain. You should heal up fine."

Hook growled irritably, but without true malice. The clarity and energy brought by Tiger Lily's concoctions were fading; the emptiness returning. Sleep might help, but it might also sever his connection to his exhausted and sore body. He felt his heart stutter, as if momentarily sticking to itself before returning to normal.

Smee and Tiger Lily were working together to tend to his wrist. The fairy seemed to have some sort of paste prepared that she applied to the wound, while Smee gathered sticks to serve as splints. And despite his discomfort, Hook felt himself drifting… unsure whether he'd wake again, but unable to prevent it. Maybe Tiger Lily was preparing a headstone, after all.