"Captain!"

Hook could ignore the pain searing through his head at every pulse of blood. He could overlook his aching limbs, protesting at the discomfort of lying on the hard wooden floor. He could even surpass the throbbing pain from what appeared to be a dislocated jaw. What he couldn't ignore, however, was the incessant shouting and rough shakes from his first mate.

"Captain!" Smee cried. "There's blood on your face. You're injured, Captain!"

His head was throbbing harder than it would after a particularly intense tavern brawl. In the rare occasions where his opponent took the upper hand, he usually had the grace to stumble back to his cabin and fall onto his bed rather than the hard, unforgiving floor.

"Captain!"

Rubbing the cool metal from his hook against his forehead, Hook groaned as he slowly stood up, feeling the persistent ache of each individual muscle as he moved. He staggered as he tried to regain balance on the gently rocking ship, prompting a nervous Smee to clutch his arm to help keep him steady.

"I can stand up on my own, Smee." Hook grumbled, jerking his arm out of Smee's grasp so that he could swipe away the blood on his lip. Whoever had hit him had a strong arm. "Just give me a moment. And stop with the bloody yelling, would you?"

For a few moments, the pirate tried to compose himself. From what he could tell, it was night-time. The windows were blackened, and all of the candles were still lit. The ship was pretty steady, so they were probably still docked at the small harbour. If Hook had been in his bedchamber for more than a day, his men knew to sail on to the next port to 'avoid losing business'. It was a safe bet that he had only been knocked out for a couple of hours, at most.

"With all due respect, sir," Smee said hesitantly, interrupting Hook's thoughts. "What's happening with you? In one instance, you were telling me not to kill the vermin on the ship, and the next you're telling me you can't stand to see the things alive. And what's with the changing vests?"

"What in the devil's name are you going on about?"

The man frowned. "You've been switching vests all night. Is it because of that woman? The blonde one from the tavern?"

Hook paused, cursing himself for ever letting the image of the maiden with the fair hair slip his mind. Lasses would usually croon over the 'alluring dark mystery' of his hook, and how devilishly handsome they found him, whereas she had an ocean of secrets behind her eyes with no intention of telling them. He had moments where he thought he had a hold of her interest. When he spoke of his travels, her demeanour would ever so slightly change, and it was almost as if she would follow him blindly like the others. Although for most of their time together, she would tease him with those moments before pulling back. She would first draw him in with the allure of her eyes and soft words then block him out by turning away entirely, only choosing to lean closer to him than before once his eyes began to stray. At first, he thought she was just another foolish girl trying to tease him. After a while, he realised that there was more to her. Unlike the others, her cautious movements suggested that she planned her advances. She even spoke of wanting to go to unknown lands, where magic didn't exist and all women wore trousers. The most he usually got out of late night, drunk conversations was a new method of removing blood stains.

At one point, Hook thought he was being bewitched. He had never felt so enticed by a lady in all his life until her. And now she was gone.

As he turned to question Smee on if he had seen her departure, another memory flashed across his mind. The one that reminded him of the throbbing pain in his jaw.

"Someone must have taken her," Hook spoke distantly. "And that someone looked exactly like me."

"Like you?"

"Like me." Hook repeated grimly. His thoughts were running faster than his mind could keep up with. "It would explain the changing vests."

Smee frowned. "What would?"

After a period of silence, Hook finally spoke.

"Alas, I do believe this to be the work of the Dark One."

"Are you sure, capt'n?" Smee asked with eyes widened in disbelief. "Are you sure it's not just the rum? You did look very unsteady when you came aboard."

"Of course it's not the bloody rum, Smee," Hook sighed, "it takes more than a few glasses to have me swaying on deck."

"But why here? Why now?" Smee took off his hat and started twisting it between his hands. "Why would he come back?"

"Does the Dark One ever need a reason?" Hook snapped. "If he needed an excuse, he would use the one that involves me rescuing his wife from a miserable life with a coward. Besides, what other beast would use magic to mimic my form? What reason would another being have to sneak aboard my ship at night and leave all of my treasure as it is?"

Smee couldn't answer. If he hadn't been consumed by a sense of vengeance, Hook would have laughed at how the man in front of him had his mouth opening and closing like a fish, as each new idea faded as quickly as it came. Unfortunately for Hook, now wasn't the time to revel in a small man's small mental capacity.

No matter how hard he tried, Hook couldn't decipher why the woman wouldn't leave his thoughts. Indeed, she had admitted that they were simply 'two ships passing in the night', yet her words didn't ring true to him. Against all his reason, Hook felt as though her words held a greater weight than what she tried to make them out to be. He had only felt that way about one other woman in his past, but her heart had been crushed in front of his eyes. Surely, the Dark One must have sensed and taken advantage of the feeling of ease within Hook, which felt so foreign, so strange, that even Hook himself didn't realise it was there until it was cruelly taken away.

"Capt'n Hook! Capt'n!"

Hook immediately turned to the doorway as he heard the bellows from above deck. Moments later, a deckhand – Hook could never remember what his actual name was – was standing in the shadowed doorway. Even in the dark, Hook could almost see the tension and excitement radiating from the breathless young pirate ahead of him.

"What is it, lad?" He asked curiously.

"News from the crow's nest." The pirate grinned. "We have a visitor."

Hook shoved the man against the nearest wall and pinned him there with his good arm, using his metal claw to slowly scrape across the victim's cheek.

"I don't like to be toyed with, mate." Hook sneered. "If you've got answers, you better bloody give them to me."

"I've already told you." Maurice cowered further back into the wall, holding his hands up defensively. "All I know is that he's somewhere down south."

"Is that right, sir?" The pirate asked, pressing his hook deeper into the man's skin.

"I wouldn't lie to you!" Maurice panicked. "I'm a man of my word."

Hook laughed and roughly pushed him away, turning to face the bow of his ship. He scratched his growing beard and stared at the waves gently lapping underneath the soft glow of the moonlight, finding the regular motion and hushed sounds calming.

Hook remembered that Milah would always come here when the night tremors of her last love would befall her, with the humidity of the Captain's bedchamber proving to be too much for her to fall back asleep. He would follow her whenever she accidentally woke him, but she never seemed to take much notice. She would always stand at the very front, leaning against the railing with her eyes closed and her head tipped back. With her hair wafting gently behind her and a hint of a smile on her face, Milah always looked most at ease on these nights, more so than she had ever looked during daylight hours.

It was the serenity of the loss of obligation, she had told him one night, which always made her feel at ease. She did not have to hold the role of an ex-wife, a child's lost mother, a Captain's lover, or even her own self. At those times, Milah would forget about her identity, and pretend that she was a free spirit travelling the endless seas. She would forget the guilt, heartbreak, loss, and just be free. She could be happy.

Of course, Milah is gone now. Hook had spent many restless nights returning to that spot, with a slight glimmer of hope that she would be there. Occasionally, he had tricked himself into believing that he had seen a faint glow of a figure there; an otherworldly presence that lingered on the ship, forever remaining close to him, comforting him. The trick would never last as long as he would like. His mind would always twist the delusion into the one where he was staring into her tortured eyes as she struggled to keep her heart beating.

"I met a creature who was once said to be a man of honour; a 'man of his word'." Hook's countenance darkened as he turned back around to face Maurice, taking slow strides towards him. "I'm sure you'll understand why I don't trust men who claim to be of that character, especially when I reveal that that same creature I met had abandoned his war duty, abandoned his child in another realm, and killed his wife in the face of one whom dearly cared for her."

Maurice blanched as Hook grabbed him by his collar, pushed him against the wall once more, and lifted him slightly from the ground. This man had approached Hook at the most inopportune time. Feeling bitter about the Dark One mocking him once again, dangling what he wanted in front of his eyes before snatching it away, ensured that he was not in a particularly forgiving mood. Finally satisfied from the man's fearful eyes, Hook twisted the fabric in his hand to limit the man's air supply.

"I'll ask you once more," Hook growled. "Tell me where the crocodile is."

The red-faced man started gasping and wildly flailing one of his arms around, so Hook loosened his grip and allowed him to stand on his own feet.

"I don't know exactly where he is," Maurice wheezed, "but I do know that Gaston, my kingdom's most skilled hunter of beasts, is trying to find his domain."

"I'm listening." Hook released him and backed up a few paces. "Make it quick."

"Thank you," Maurice sighed. "It's difficult, as the Dark One leaves few tracks, and speaks to fewer. However, from what I last heard from Gaston, he had been tracked to the outskirts of the Enchanted forest, just outside the barriers of the Kingdom's reign and protection. I haven't yet had a letter back stating his exact location, but someone from the last village he passed through may be able to show you what direction he was headed to."

Hook hadn't expected to get such a lead so early on in his renewed quest. How reliable it was, he wasn't sure, but he had nothing else to go from. Judging by the horrified expressions from the gentleman's face during the past half hour, he was sure that Maurice would have said just about anything to be released from the pirate's grasp. If it turned out to be false, Hook would ensure that this would not be his last encounter with the snivelling excuse of a man.

Hook turned towards the bow once more and made a gesture towards the nearest group of lurking shipmates. "Throw him overboard."

At this point, he didn't have many concerns for the wellbeing of others. Maurice probably knows how to swim, right?

Since his brother and lover had been so cruelly snatched away from him, he didn't believe in actively aiding the happiness of others, especially when his own life has been devoid of it for many years. All he now cared for was revenge, rum, and seeking the bar maid who would surely haunt many of his dreams to come. Though he would never dare admit it aloud, for fear of his shipmates thinking him as weak, he desperately sought what many 'heroes' took for granted; a happy ending.

"Please, Hook!" Maurice called out, feebly attempting to bat away the approaching crew. "I don't care what happens to me, just please try to free my daughter from the Dark One's hold. She sacrificed herself to save her family and her Kingdom, but he's surely holding my Belle a prisoner. Please, you owe me at least that!"

"I don't owe you anything, my boy," Hook laughed. "But I'll keep it in mind, if it'll console you during your swim back to shore. Feel lucky that I'm keeping you alive, mate."

"Captain!" Smee cried as he rushed to Hook's side. "Don't you think that's a little harsh? He did give you the answers you wanted."

"Unless you want to end up with the same fate as the old man over there, I suggest you keep quiet."

"Yes, sir," Smee replied meekly, bowing his head slightly as he glanced over at a struggling Maurice. "As you wish, sir."

Hook sighed, staring at a lone gull, lazily swooping along the shoreline. "Don't tell me you're going soft, Smee."

"I'm not, though I do think you're rather," Smee hesitated, "committed, in finding the Dark one. Pray, tell me this. Why is it so important to find the Dark One now? What's so important about the bar wench?"

"The Dark One has always been my priority, only more so now that he's managed to rip someone away from me once more. And she's not just some 'bar wench'." Hook shook his head and turned to properly face Smee. His eyes were dull, and as tortured as driftwood in the sea amidst a storm. "Lad, have you ever had a moment when your eyes lay upon the most beautiful creature you have ever seen, with all of your pain slithering away when she is within your gaze?"

"I can't say I have, capt'n."

"Then you won't understand the severity that this quest holds to me." Within an instant, Hook's eyes closed off once more, replaced with a steely look. He turned away from his first mate and started walking towards the centre of the deck, ignoring the cries from a visibly absent Maurice. "Lift the anchor! We set sail tonight."