Killian woke up on the floor in his cabin with his cheek pressed against a chair leg. He groaned, which added to the throbbing pain in his head. He searched his fragmented memory of last night, trying to remember just how much he had drunk. Obviously, part of the answer was way more than usual. With all the drinking he regularly did, it now took quite a lot to cause him to be this hungover. His stomach lurched, and he barely scrambled to the bucket in his room before he threw up, and the sweet taste of rum mixed with the sting of alcohol and bile assaulted him.

He flopped on his back, not daring to try to make his way away from the bucket and to his bed. The ship rocking was definitely working against him, and he soon heaved himself up just to throw up again.

Killian mumbled, "I wish I were still passed out."

What followed was a day of hell as he emptied his stomach over and over again. In the end, he was dry-heaving and cursing the rum he had drunk the night before.

Early evening Smee stumbled in and slipped his red knit hat from his head, and he bowed slightly. "Um… C-captain. I hope it's okay if I…." He bowed again and placed a plate with bread and a glass of water on the table. He then quickly crossed to the bucket and put it

just outside the door to the captain's cabin. He next turned back in and said, "It sounds like you've stopped throwing up. Can I help you to your bed, Captain Hook?"

Killian waved him away. "No. I got this now. Thanks for the bread and water; hopefully, I can keep that down."

"Aye, Captain. D-do you need anything else?"

"No, well done, Smee." Killian hesitated, then asked, "Did I bring a woman back to the ship last night?"

"Y-yes. But…. Captain…." Smee blushed and didn't finish his sentence.

Killian knew whatever was coming was going to be bad. "Spit it out, Smee."

"Well, she left before you… had fun."

Killian groaned, "Why?"

"You puked on her, Captain."

Killian rubbed his hands over his face in dismay. "Well, that sucks. You may be dismissed."

Smee bowed and quickly left. He didn't want his captain to question why his ribs hurt. He had no intention of admitting that the woman kicked him after he fell down. She didn't appreciate him getting sick all over her breasts.

After Smee left, Killian hauled himself up and sat in the chair at the table. He breathed a small sigh of relief. The world wasn't spinning, and the smell of bread didn't make him sick. He drank and ate slowly to ensure his stomach wouldn't object forcefully to what he was consuming.

Once the food and water stayed settled in his stomach, he stood and stripped off his dirty clothes and tossed them in a corner for Smee to retrieve and wash later. Then he removed his hook and his brace and placed them on the table. Once he was ready, he pulled out a nightshirt and flopped in bed, relieved to be up off the floor and more comfortable.

Tonight he was feeling old with his sore muscles and his diminishing hangover. He admitted to himself he was very young for the number of years he'd lived. He thought about how Neverland would do that to you, though. Time in magical realms ran concurrently, and while he was in Neverland, time here, in this realm, passed just the same. The tricky part about Neverland was while time does pass, you never age. Rumor was that there was a land without magic and that time didn't pass the same way when in Neverland, but he didn't know if he really ever believed that.

Based on the passage of time in this realm, he realized he had been in Neverland for hundreds of years. The "new Dark One," who had killed the woman he loved in front of him, was now a firm fixture in the land and even more ruthless. He wanted nothing more than to make the Dark One suffer, which all led to his drinking last night. He discovered that the Dark One had gotten his son back, the one who had run from him centuries ago. He began mainlining rum when he heard the Crocodile was ecstatic to have Balefire back. That news had made him furious.

He raked the fingers of his right hand through his hair. Milah was dead. That monster had ripped out her heart while Killian was powerless to do anything about it. He was tied to the mast of his own ship and screaming as he watched the woman he loved be killed. He could still picture the horrible scene perfectly.

Milan. He hated that after over two hundred years in Neverland, his heartache had eased and gone away. She was a woman he had cared for and loved, but her absence didn't sting the same. Somehow while he didn't age, time did heal his broken heart.

Vengeance. Still, that word was one he could hold on to. Revenge and hate had replaced his heartbreak over her, and he continued to puzzle over how to kill the Dark One.

When he arrived back in this realm six months ago, he was disgusted with how powerful the Crocodile had become. Yet, the one bright spot was the fact that he didn't have the one person he had ever loved —his son. Then a few weeks ago, his ally, the bitter queen, managed to perform a spell that swapped one loved one for another. She killed her father, and the Dark One got his son back —magic always came with a price.

Queen Regina was also going to be a problem for him. She was the Dark One's protege and a powerful witch. That resulted in a lot of magical power that was stacking up between him and his goals. Still, he was nothing if not determined, and he was set on making sure to defeat the bloody Crocodile.

Now he just needed to figure out how. The problem was that a loyal crew and a magic ship didn't add up to much. Not enough to attack the Dark One head-on. And so he had been biding his time trying to find out any crack or flaw there was in the power that bastard had amassed.

He admitted to himself maybe Balefire being back wasn't so awful as he had thought. While there was joy now for his father, he imagined the look of despair on the man's face if he killed his son in front of him. That thought made him smile.

Once Killian had felt parental to the boy. After all, he was Milah's son, but that quickly left when Balefire abandoned him and forsook his offer of help, believing that lier, his father —the absolute fool.

Killian stared at the ceiling of his room and tried to shift through what he had learned about the Dark One's ally. The queen had a hatred for the woman whose crown she stole, Snow White, what a silly name. Still, she had managed to live on the run with her husband for about two decades. She had to have some skills and powerful allies, and that interested him.

He pondered what to do, try to work with her or kidnap her and turn her over to the queen for help defeating the Dark One. The second option sounded more promising. He didn't work well with others, and he was a villain. He enjoyed doing villainous things.

He decided that tomorrow the Jolly Roger would sail with the tide, and they would make their way toward Queen Regina's territory. He would be careful, though; he didn't want the Dark One tipped off that he was back and looking for revenge.